#i considered both bandana and headband as the same

[kth1]

this or that?: taehyung wearing a hat or a bandana sent by: @loverjimin (cr. dwellingsouls: gif 5)

[jjba-fragmented-star]

New Reference Sheets for Chemaya and his stand, Dark Horse. I changed a lot of things in his backstory which are mostly the key events of his life. I will write his full backstory in the JoJo's Bizarre Fanon wiki which I will do with my other characters. So backstory, extras and Stand information under the cut.

Basic Information:

Name: Chemaya Alley

Birthname: Chimalley

Alias: Chem-Chem, Maya, Uncle Maya, Golden Eyed Gladiator, Immortal Shield

Namesake:

Chemaya(Shemaiah/Hebrew)= God Heard

Chimalley(Aztec)= Shield

Stand: Dark Horse/Chavel Noir(All the Dark Horses by the Trashcan Sinatras)

Nationality: Central American/French

Birthday: May 3

Zodiac/Chinese Zodiac: Taurus/Ox

Age: 2000(Actual Age)/27(Physical Appearance)

Gender: Male

Height: 7ft/2,13 cm

Weight: 96 kg

Blood Type: A+

Species: Pillar Dhampir(Pillar Man/Human Hybrid)

Occupation: Mentor, Artist's Model, Wanderer Formerly: Gladiator, Investigator, Treasure Hunter, Blacksmith

Personality:

Reliable, Pantient, Practical, Responsible, Mother Hen, Gentleman, Aloof, Stubborn, Less Talkative, Sensitive, Overcautious

Likes: His Family, Horses, Cooking, Spring season, Art, Sunrise, Traveling to different countries, Historical documentaries and books, Jasmine tea.

Dislikes: Stone Masks, Pillar Men(maybe some exceptions), Italy, Rude Behavior, his family and friends being hurt, Pomegranate fruit.

Relatives:

Unnamed Grandfather(Pillar Man)

Unnamed Grandmother(Human)

Izel(Pillar Dhampir/Father)

Fiora(Human/Mother)

Andreas McJohan Andrew Joestar(Adoptive Father)

Dimitra Iovianou/McJohan(Adoptive Mother)

Panajotis McJohan(Adoptive Younger Brother)

Elpida Zoheir/McJohan(Sister-in-law)

Zenobios McJohan(Nephew)

Leonidas McJohan(Great-Nephew)

Diogenes McJohan(Great-Great Nephew)

Hariklia 'Grace' McJohan/Bhraghad(Great-Great-Great Niece)

Ambrogio McJohan(Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Orestes Bhraghad(Great-Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Oswald Bhraghad(Great-Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Isaac McJohan(Great-Great-Great-Great Nephew)

Giorgia McJohan(Great-Great-Great-Great Niece)

Background Information:

Original Timeline

-Chimalley was born in France during the Roman Empire from the Pillar Dhampir Izel and the human woman Fiora. Izel was the child of Pillar Man who survived the massacre of his species by Kars and a human woman in Central America. Fiora was the daughter of merchants and had the ability to predict different possibilities in the future of a person based from their choices.

-He had a good relationship with his parents and a peaceful childhood but everything changed, when he was 17 he watched his parents dying infront of him him by Slave Traders and was captured to be used as a Gladiator for the Colosseum. After 7 years of being treated as an entertainment he decided to escape by freeing the other Gladiators from the Colosseum.

-He traveled across Europe, Africa and Asia to expand his knowledge in the different languages and cultures of each country and meeting new people while learning how to survive and new combat skills.

-He became one of the first stand users in the late 15th Century after being shot unexpectedly by one of the stand arrows from the man who created them and saw the potential of Chimalley to use him for his army of Stand Users. Chimalley during that time was confused, scared and wanted to be away from this man, his stand, Dark Horse, reacted to his thoughts and transported him by disappearing in a cloud of dark smoke somewhere safe.

-His pursuit for the Stone Masks started when he encounter a vampire drinking blood from a woman and a stone masks on the floor in the house of a noble man. Chimalley used for the first time his stand by trapping the vampire into binds of shadows and proceeding by drinking his blood. The woman lost a lot of blood but she was alive before the Pillar Dhampir leave with the stone mask and destroying it.

-In the 17th Century he traveled in Scotland and fell in love with the daughter of a Clan Chief, Eimhir McLeod. Their love didn't last long when a stand user threatened the McLeod chief to destroy his Clan if he didn't get Eimhir to marry him. This turned into a fight between Chimalley and the stand user which resulted the death of Eimhir and the McLeod Clan. After this event the Pillar Dhampir didn't fell in love ever again.

-During the 18th century he changes his name into Chemaya Alley and in the 19th century, the year 1883, he finds a lead to someone who has a stone mask in Greece. He arrived in the city of Argos of the Argolida prefecture in the Peloponnese peninsula, after stealing the mask and destroying it he meets a 13 years old child name Panajotis McJohan, who was a stand user like Chemaya, he traveled with his parents from Nafplio to Argos to do some errands. Panajotis took Chemaya to meets his parents and later was adopted by the McJohan family becoming the older brother of Pano.

-In 1888 before the events of Phantom Blood, He accompanied Panajotis to Liverpool, England, to discuss some important stuff with George Joestar I. They arrived in the Joestar Mansion where they met George's sons, Jonathan and Dio, Chemaya found Jonathan pleasant and kindhearted, while Dio gave a hostile aura and he knew something wasn't right with him. The conversation of Panajotis and George ended with angry shouts from the elder Joestar warning the young McJohan to never come close to his family ever again.

-After this event Panajotis and Chemaya started working as Investigators and Treasure Hunters to earn money for some years and later Panajotis works as a woodcrafter and marries Elpida Zoheir, an Egyptian woman from Alexandria. Chemaya will occasionally visiting or write letters and teach the the McJohan family about stands for the following years.

-In 1939, Chemaya goes to visit his family in Greece when he comes face to face with Wamuu, who was looking for the Red Stone of Aja. His fight with Wamuu was one of the toughest he ever had and he finished it by using Dark Horse to teleport Wamuu to another country.

-In 1987, he encounters again Dio in Cairo, Chemaya learned from him that he became vampire via a stone mask, took the body of his Adoptive Brother, Jonathan, gaining a stand via a stand arrow and wanted to rule. Chemaya became furious with Dio of the things he had done to Jonathan and his family and challenged the stupid brat into a stand fight. The Pillar Dhampir was ruthless with the Vampire and he didn't give him any chances to attack back but in the last moment Dio activated his stand ability and time stopped giving him the opportunity to run away from Chemaya. The hybrid was still angry with him but he didn't chase him because the brat wasn't his problem and wasn't worth of his time.

-In 2002 he was in Italy to buy something for his family when he came across Viktoria Erikson, a Hamon User and a SWF worker, who was chasing a occult who had a stone mask and wanted to become powerful, they where successful in defeating the occult and destroying the mask.

-In November of 2011, Chemaya died by being cut in half by a mysterious stand user.

Fragmented Star AU/EOH game Timeline:

In this universe Chemaya's past is the same as the one in the original universe but with some changes:

-In 1987 learned also from Dio that he has Jonathan's head as a trophy and in 1988 Chemaya breaks into the Mansion before the last battle to save it and putting Jonathan's head into the hotel the Crusaders where staying. Chemaya actually thought Jonathan was dead and his descendants would bury him but his was unconscious and the hamon kept him young and alive, his descendants saved his body from Dio and connected it with his head, the Pillar Dhampir without knowing he saved Jonathan's life.

-In 2002, Viktoria and Chemaya had a third person helping them in the defeat of the occult, his name was Michalis Zannos, a Greek stand user who worked as a singer in a famous restaurant in Italy to save money for his sick mother to go in a hospital.

-In 2011 he survived the killing blow from the enemy stand user by teleporting behind him and hitting him unconscious and bringing to the SPW foundation HQ.

-He is currently living in Nafplio, Greece with his three times Great Nephew and his wife.

EXTRA:

-Chemaya inherited from his mother the ability to see the difference possible futures of someone based on their choices and would advice them to choose the most sensible one.

-He is a Pillar Dhampir like his father, he is physically stronger than a vampire but weaker than a Pillar Man and unlike them he can walk during the day. Also he had a horn like the Pillar Men but he broke it when he became 16 so to blend with the other humans.

-The necklace he wears used to belong to his father.

-He is Demiromantic/Asexual

-The red mark in his jaw is made of paint and he has a tattoo on his left shoulder which resembles the Joestar Birthmark. Panajotis payed a tattooist to draw it in Chemaya's body because he considers him family.

-List of wounds from the 2nd Refsheet of Chemaya:

The wound when he broke his horn, he mostly covers it with a green headband, other times with a hat or a bandana.

He has burns in his right shoulder and left arm

Some cuts in his right arm after he fought with a big dangerous animal

Gun wounds in his left side of his chest and shoulder

Wound from a daggers in the left side of his chest

Wounds from whips during his time as a Gladiator

a wound in the center of his chest after being shot by the stand arrow

And a large cut which a reminder of his death in the original timeline on November of 2011. He remembered the previous timeline and the current one he lives.

-Chemaya has an artist eye and describe in detail any piece of art, the reason is because his Adoptive Brother, Panajotis worked as a woodcrafter later in his life and Chemaya is Artist's Model for his nephew Isaac and his mother, Kyriaki Callas/McJohan, who are both painters and a friend from Spain who is a Sculpturist.

-Chemaya every weekend cooks for his family his favorite recipes, one of them is a simple chicken soup because it reminds him of his mother who made it for him when he was a child.

STAND

Name: Dark Horse/Chavel Noir

Nickname: Noir

Namesake: All the Dark Horses(song by the Trashcan Sinatras)

Stand Type: Natural Non-Humanoid Stand, Phenomenal Stand

Stats:

Destructive Power: A

Speed: A

Range: B

Persistence: B

Precision: C

Development Potential: B

Appearance:

Dark Horse has the appearance of a giant humanoid horse made of black smoke, his has six purple eyes, his mane, tail, hands and hooves have the same colour which resembles a galaxy and has three purple cycles in his chest. He face can split up and form a mouth with fangs, he uses it mostly to eat or attack his opponents.

Abilities:

Smoke Manipulation: Dark Horse is made of black smoke, he can change and size and become solid and intangible. He can form smoky tentacles which can become sharp enough to cut opponents and in intangible form he can enter the victim's body and make them stop breathing. It can also form into gloves that covers the entire arms of his user to attack other stands in close combat.

Shadow Camouflage: The stand can become undetectable as along there is darkness or shadow. He can blend into the shadow of a person or animal and follow them.

Shadow Gates: He make gates out of dark smoke which resembles black holes to transport to different destinations in his user's will. Also they can act as dimensional storages to put personal stuff.

Corporeal Disguise: Dark Horse can take the form a regular brown and white Clydesdale Horse with black mane and tail which can be seen by non-stand user.

Weaknesses:

UV lights and when Dark Horse is in solid form his user can feel the attacks from his opponents.

[mythgirlimagines]

I hope that you like this more obscure talentswap! This fast-talking mile-a-minute lass lives for all there is to do with justice, for she is Myth, the Former Ultimate Stenographer!

-——————————————————

BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Being born to two hard-working pervayors of justice (attorneys, in fact), Myth always witnessed her parents getting justice served to the people who deserved it, and always wished to follow in their footsteps, so she would always write what her parents said in the court, so she could use it as future reference. Some of the court officials noticed this, and offered to give this girl a position as the court’s professional stenographer, and you better believe she wears that title like a badge of glory, and performs to the highest of capabilities. Myth’s supreme skill in stenographing earned her a spot on the Hope’s Peak roster as the Ultimate Stenographer, and even in her adult years, she is still working hard every day to record the words uttered by the justice system that she holds ever so dear to her heart. But her best friend forced her to take the next couple of weeks off, and chaperone this years Ultimates and Jr. Ultimates.

——————————————————-

RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Kickboxer

Despite being only two inches taller than their friend, Wyre dominated foes way bigger than them, thanks to their strong and wild kicking, which is enough for them to be considered a champion and caused them to earn their position as the Ultimate Kickboxer, and they are still going strong in their adult years. Despite their rough appearance and her equally rough demeanor and behavior, their criminal record is squeaky clean, and for that reason, Myth and Wyre have been only the best of friends for years and years. Wyre is also the only one who can understand Myth’s fast-talking and shorthand speech, and the only person who can stop Myth from over working herself and stressing herself out over minor details. 

Outfit: An orange and sleeveless hoodie over a bandage-wrapped chest, chains on her neck and wrist, sweatpants that match her hoodie, nothing on her feet.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Puppeteer 

As the mastermind and creative genius behind famous horror web series told exclusively through expertly-crafted marionettes and props, and a creepy voice acting as the narrator, Scar commonly calls herself ”The Narrator”, “The Disembodied Voice”, or, most notably of all, “The Puppetmaster”. Oddly enough, despite puppeteering for specifically in the horror genre, and wearing clothes that would be right at home on a cursed and possessed Victorian-era doll, Scar is actually quite the softie in real-life, often acting like a concerned mother to the other Kibo-Con attendees. Scar’s creepy appearance immediately scared Myth away, much to the dismay of the puppet enthusiast.

Outfit: A red beret on her head, cracks drawn on her face making her resemble a haunted doll, a black and white gothic-Lolita style dress, black and white striped stockings, brown platform heels.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Waiter

Garnering fame all around his hometown for his ability to hold several plates of food all at once, while roller-skating simultaneously, Fusion is a waiter at the “Squeaky-Clean Spoon”, a 60s style diner run by his parents and grandparents, that is famous for their chili dogs and selection of songs on their personal jukeboxes. With their shared love for punctuality in their respective duties and their shared concern for their conmates, you would think that the two would get along perfectly. However, Myth caught wind of a certain skeleton in Fusion’s closet, and hasn’t forgiven Fusion since. Fusion desperately wishes to reconcile with his senpai, even if he is siding with an acclaimed thief.

Outfit: A white dress shirt, a red, yellow, and blue striped tie, a red and white apron, white gloves, red and white four-wheel roller-skates, glasses and pants from his original design.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Thief

As a youngster, Fusion II was born and raised on the streets, and had to steal and loot from any house and store that she happened upon, in order to survive in this dog-eat-dog world. Her natural stealth and clever mindset helps her evade her captors and makes her only the perfect thief. However, a couple of months prior, Fusion II was caught stealing from The Squeaky-Clean Spoon by the owners, and was offered a place to stay at the diner, in exchange for working as one of the diner’s chefs. Because Fusion II and Myth are on opposite sides of the law, they both have a massive grudge against each other, making Fusion II the person Myth gets along with the worst.

Outfit: A black-leather jacket over a pink undershirt, blue-ripped jeans with the same apron as Fusion tied over it, tall black boots, sunglasses from the original design.

Just Anon, Ultimate Tutor 

Tired of his constant truancy, in spite of his stunning genius, Janon’s teachers have forced him to tutor his kohais, as compensation for all of the school days he missed and as a way to learn what actual work feels like. Because Janon can memorize entire textbooks worth of information, he uses all of this knowledge in order to tutor the school children of his neighborhood. While he does equally as well of a job with students older than him, Janon is notably harsher on them, compared to children (his one weakness and soft-spot). Janon shows zero respect for any of his senpais, particularly the stick-up-her-butt stenographer. Myth is oddly intrigued by Janon’s quick retaining of info.

Outfit: The same formal wear that he wears underneath his hoodie from his original design, with a long pink scarf wrapped around his neck (which was knitted by one of his kohais), reading glasses.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Tap Dancer

The famed star of the Spectacular Sparkling Spotlight (or Troupe S3, for short) Dance Troupe, Sparkle and the other girls of her dance-oriented musical theatre troupe are all skilled at all sorts of dance styles, but as her title would suggest, Sparklw (and the rest of her troupe) mainly specializes in tap dancing. A combination of her loud voice, style and grace on the stage, and the sheer amount of knowledge on the world of performing and theatrics, made Sparkle the perfect person to lead her troupe into worldwide stardom. At first, Myth was scared off by Sparkle’s loud and commandeering tone, but eventually (even if she won’t admit it), the skittish stenographer has warmed up to Sparkle.

Outfit; A black and white tuxedo with a matching hat/headband on top of her hair, white gloves, black and pink tap shoes, a sparkly black and white cape, a cane she carries at all times, glasses from her original design.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Graffiti Artist, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Tailor

Egg and Wet Sock are a pair of twins best known for their differently-applied artistic genius. Egg, the older and more physically-gifted (but not particularly bright or sensible) of the two, specializes in colorful and eye-grabbing graffiti, with or without permission from commissioners. Wet Sock, the more brooding and withdrawn (yet equally as cursed) of the two, specializes in custom-made and fitted clothes, particularly those of the emo subculture. Egg’s jokey nature and morally dubious talent puts them at odds with Myth, meaning that, out of the twins, Myth gets along better with Wet Sock, despite their strange and frightening attachment to knives and regularly pulling them out.

Egg’s Outfit: Green-tinted goggles, a splattered bandana covering their nose and mouth, a black tanktop, green cargo pants, black gloves, spray can holsters and boots.

Wet Sock’s Outfit: A simple black and white tuxedo, accessorized with sewing supplies.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Soccer Player

The otherwise ragtag soccer team of Star Summit Co-Ed Middle School has a secret ace up their sleeve, and that ace’s name is Curious Anon. Curious‘s sheer leg strength combined with his strategic mindset and game-breaking power made them popular among soccer fanatics everywhere and makes them truly earn the title of Ultimate Soccer Player. Despite their stoic and permanent game face frightening opponents, as any of their teammates would tell you, Curious is surprisingly kind-hearted and is easy to get along with. Curious’s honest and upfront nature seems to help calm Myth’s nerves, when she chooses to interact with the easygoing middle school soccer star. 

Outfit: A green and white soccer uniform with black cleats.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Skateboarder 

On the other end of the jock scale, we have Anon Nerd, the jerkish and hyper-aggressive Ultimate Skateboarder, and the eldest of the Kibo-Con roster. Because of his less-than-stellar and hyper-violent upbringing, Nerd took it to the skatepark to vent his frustrations with half-pipe tricks. All the time spent at the skatepark made his skateboarding skills escalate and escalate, until he became a pro-skateboarder in his teen years, and eventually the Ultimate Skateboarder. Because of their close-to-opposite personalities, Myth and Nerd don’t get along well in the slightest. Unfortunately, they’ve both developed feelings for each other, that they’ve never experienced before.

Outfit; Hair in a Mohawk with red and black dyed tips, a black tank-top with a bloody skull illustration on the front, black cargo shorts with sheered bottoms, black socks and white sneakers, tattoos on his arms.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Public Speaker

Wanted to wake up the gullible sheep in the world, Eldritch quickly mustered up the confidence (thanks to several online confidence seminar marathons) to go in front of a crowd, and scream at them about all the terrible state the world is currently in, and how they’re all mindless corporate zombies, to let all of those atrocities slide. Despite his reputation as an overzealous Debbie Downer by many of his detractors, he has many fans for his loud and passionate voice and his regular use of peer-reviewed facts, making his speeches far more reliable than they seem. Eldritch’s anti-government attitude puts him at odds with Myth’s heavily pro-government mindset.

Outfit: Neatly combed hair, a black polo shirt with a green pixel design on the bottom, an orange tie, black pants and matching loafers.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Cadet

Despite her sunny and positive attitude clashing heavily against her strict and stoic military family and the rest of her squadron, no one can deny that Dream is a spectacular cadet towards her squadron. She can also play quite the mean bugle. With Dream and Myth opposite temperaments and interactions with others, you‘d be surprised to learn that they have two common point: their shared love of war history and respect for the government. They often like talking about war strategy and re-enacting old wars throughout history, using Dream’s collectible toy soldiers. These activities are one of the few times Myth‘s walls are let down in front of anybody, apart from Wyre.

Outfit: Hair in two small pigtails, a dark green and light green army helmet, black facepaint, a jumpsuit that matches her helmet, black boots with yellow soles.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Cellist

Ever since she was little, thanks to her musician parents (a guitarist father and a violinist mother), Iris has been exposed to music, and eventually chose to follow in her parent’s footsteps with her favorite instrument: the cello. Unfortunately, because of her dislike of crowded spots, Iris couldn’t join an orchestra like she (and her parents) wanted to, so she opted to simply play her cello from home and upload her music online. Regardless of her fears and anxieties, Iris always tries her best to remain positive. Iris may not understand what the hell Myth is even saying, but she always tries her best to strike conversation with her senpai, in hopes that the stenographer can open up. 

Outfit: Silver music note hairpins, a blue denim jacket with silver music note buttons over a black dress with white string designs in the middle, dark grey leggings, dark blue Mary Janes, glasses from original design.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Class Representative

Purple is a student from one of the most prestigious and high-class schools in all of the country, and despite her timid personality, thanks to her strong work ethic and her kind-hearted nature, she managed to secure a position in the school’s hierarchy as the representative of her class. Because of her overly formal and heavily outdated mode of speech that’s more at home with the other students at her uppercrust school, she usually requires a translator (usually Fusion) to make her speech comprehensible to the middle-class conmates. Myth and Purple quickly bonded in true incomprehensible glory, and regularly have conversations that no one but Wyre and Fusion can understand.

Outfit: A black overcoat over a white dress shirt and a red tie, a purple skirt, dark grey stockings, and red Mary Janes, topped off by a red armband on her right arm.

The series centers around the skittish stenographer learning to give potential criminals the chance for redemption.

——————————————————-

PERSONALITY

Stenographer!Myth is renowned upon the justice system for her efficiency in the court and the stoic face she puts on, upon entering a court environment, able to capture speech right down to the tiniest of breaths. But off of the court, she’s the complete opposite, for her speech is about as speedy, jumbled, and incomprehensible as her writing, often requiring Kickboxer!Wyre to translate for her. Stenographer!Myth is often very jittery, when interacting with others, and almost never relaxes or slows down to take a breather. She has zero time for playing or joking around, for a stenographer’s work is never done, and justice never sleeps. Her moral compass and sense of justice is practically removable, which makes sense, considering the environment she lives in. This puts her at odds with people such as Theif!Two. She’ll never admit it, but Stenographer!Myth really cares about each and every one of the Kibo-Con attendees, but she’ll never admit it, for fear of being made fun of or being taken advantage of by a potential criminal hiding amongst the crowd.

——————————————————-

APPEARANCE

Stenographer!Myth has brown hair that reaches her tailbone and wears the same uniform that she wears to court. The uniform consists of a pink headband with a heart pin given by her mother, a blue jacket over a pink dress shirt and a gold pendant with an amethyst in the center, a skirt that matches her jacket, black leggings and ruby red Mary Janes. She carries a stenography machine with her, at all times.

——————————————————-

Phew! I’ve finished this week’s quota! I hope you like this talentswap! Let me hear your opinions on this AU! 

-Fusion Anon

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

Surprise @archersqueen!! Your idea here on this post inspired me to write today! <3 I hope you like!

A Good Night (also on 9L)

Carol tied her hair back, then slipped a cloth bandana around her head to hold the fly-aways and her bangs back. Lathering up the soap they’d bartered from Hilltop, she washed her face, the dust and grime of the day falling away.

At times she thought the soap might do more damage than good considering the rustic nature of it, but she figured it couldn’t be worse than the store-bought products she’d used Before. Besides, it made her skin feel fresh and bright and soft.

She patted her face dry with a towel and turned back to the sink just as Daryl entered the bathroom.

“Kids go right to sleep?” she asked, removing the headband and squeezing a dollop of Eugene-created mint-flavored toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

“Out like lights.”

Daryl grabbed his toothbrush and followed suit, and Carol stared at them in the his-and-hers vanity. It didn’t happen often, both of them getting ready for bed at the same time. The calls of duty—babysitting, night watch, helping a neighbor, fighting off walkers, going on a run, assisting at the infirmary, wrestling their adopted kids into bed—barely ceased.

Tonight was a rarity, and she stood there enjoying it, watching the man she loved do the most mundane thing in the world.

Sometimes when she looked at him, she saw him as he used to be, early on when they’d met, a scared kid in a man’s body, chip on his shoulder, terrified of anyone finding out how soft his heart was—and how easily it could break. Sometimes she saw him growing into more, tentative and bristly, trying so hard to help he practically oozed compassion, only to snatch it away again when someone showed him the smallest kindness. At times she saw him blossoming like that Cherokee rose he’d given her lifetimes ago, learning to speak his mind, take charge, be the man she’d seen hiding in the darkened corners of his soul, testing his time in the light, moving ever closer to those who’d helped draw him away from the horrors he’d grown up with, learning to trust his place in the world—and with them. Other times she saw how selfless and compassionate he let himself be, the perfect opposite to the frightening brute of a man he portrayed to those who’d do them harm. She saw every version of him he’d become throughout their time together, over a decade now—had it really been that long?—the loner, the lawman, the leader, the lover.

But right now, she saw him as he stood next to her, the him no one else got to see. Gratitude and love washed through her, striking her with both the banality and the intimacy of this moment.

Dressed in a pair of baggy sweats and a black t-shirt, his hair freshly trimmed by her only a few days ago, brushing his teeth, talking to her about the kids…she couldn’t believe he was hers.

His eyes darted to hers in the mirror, and she smiled awkwardly at him around her toothbrush. She leaned to spit out the toothpaste and wash her mouth out, and he did the same. They placed their brushes in the cup sitting on the counter between their sinks, and Daryl held his hand out to her.

She glanced down at it, at the strength in those arms, the familiarity of the hands that’d held her with such gentleness, wiped her tears away, pulled her close after a long separation or in bed at night.

Without hesitating, she slipped her hand into his and flicked off the bathroom light as he led her into their room.

They each moved to their own side of the bed, and Daryl waited until she’d settled comfortably under the covers before turning off the bedside light and easing in close to her. She turned to face him in the dark, and he kissed her once, twice, before snuggling down behind her. Carol tucked herself against him, and his arm came around her, settling snugly against her stomach, holding her exactly where she wanted to be, pressed against him.

She felt him place a kiss on the back of her shoulder, another against her neck. “‘Night,” he whispered, his voice as smooth as honey.

“G‘night,” she murmured.

And it was; it really was.

Forever tag list: @billhadecr @madwomanlexie @mel-loves-all @queenohair187 @memcjo  @watashi-no-kitsunegari  @archersqueen @suellenalmeida @chey1995 @itsmymeaningoflife Message me to be added or removed.

[katzenkarussell]

Lilith & Petra Part 1

Female Monster/Female Human - Werewolf/Hunter

First story here on Tumblr! Please enjoy the first part of Lilith and Petra!

After finally reaching a calm life Lilith is ready to retire. Living on a small farm she cares for herself and a small community of werewolves has become a second family to her. The past is in the past. Except it happens to be just nearby. 

_____________________________________________________________________

Lilith remembered the moment itself still very clearly. The before and after had become vague and unclear throughout the years. Maybe it had been the adrenaline. Maybe she just believed she remembered it well. She had kept it to herself what happened that day. 

That day was actually just one of many stressful days. Monster hunters had caught on to Liliths Family. Werewolves were rare, Hunters even rarer. Hunters came in families, a connected network across the continent, and were raised to be ruthless. The hunt was what drove them, what they lived for. So when a family had become suspicious of Lilith’s family the hunt was on immediately. Lilith remembered being thrown into the back of the family car that they later abandoned. They had trekked through a forest for days and were taking a night’s rest when the hunting party descended upon them. Lilith remembered running for her life, remembered the bullets whizzing past her, the voices. It seemed that no one had, in particular, had followed her. But then she was up into the air, caught in a net. 

A trap.

She was doomed. 

Lilith tried to free herself but to no avail. She was stuck, she will die on a cold forest floor, executed for being born. Tears streamed down her face as she gripped into the net, shaking it. 

Someone was running towards her, and soon she saw that someone stop when they reached the trap area. It was a young woman- no a teenager like Lilith. Maybe a bit older. Dark circles under her eyes, messy hair held back with a hair tie and a bandana headband. Another bandana was covering her face. She was breathing heavily from the exercise, eyes flitting around the area, and to Lilith. 

In her hands was a shotgun. 

Lilith felt her fear just taking over, she couldn’t move anymore. This was her end, this was it. 

The teen discarded her shotgun to the forest floor, pulling down the bandana from her face while she moved to the tree that likely had the other end of the trap. Lilith’s mind was racing. Why throw away the shotgun? Was she going to murder her with something else?

Many questions and scenarios went through Lilith’s head, but then the trap roughly dropped her down.

“Shit, sorry!” came the voice from behind the tree. 

Lilith scrambled backward, eyes trained on the hunter before her. The hunter raised her hands. 

“No harm.” and she took a slow step forward. 

“I need to reset the trap, you run”, she pointed into the forest, away from the other voices, “that way. Be safe… and good luck.”

There was a beat of silence, Lilith got up, eyes not moving from where the hunter teen stood. The hunter’s eyes followed her too. 

“Why?”

“I’m Petra. Now run.” 

Lilith ran for her life. The hunter Petra never followed. 

Petra had often returned to Liliths thoughts, however. Sometimes she kept wondering why Petra let her go that day. Other times she wondered if they could have been friends. Some weird alternative universe where maybe they went to the same school. It was another evening as Lilith stared out of her window into the darkness of her farm when Petra crossed her mind. Was she still alive? Was she still a hunter? Was Petra still out there, thinking about some brown shaggy werewolf girl she let run many many years ago? She pushed the thoughts aside.

To help not focus on the past, she decided to transform in the pale moonlight and run through the forest. It was a nice advantage of turning older, turning into the werewolf form became more of a voluntary on-demand thing, no full moon required. It was great for a run. Though Lilith was no longer filled with unbounded energy. Now in her late fifties, her hair was greying on both of her bodies, and her bones and muscles started to complain more now. 

Life eventually had gotten better. Being hunted in her late teens obviously took a toll but… It had all turned better. She now lived on a small farm inherited from her uncle, with a small community of other werewolves nearby. It had brought peace to her life. She knew there were others to turn to, there was safe help to get when something was wrong. Things were safe now. 

With that knowledge always deep in her mind she had bounded into the forest. Her light brown fur was greying in several places, particularly on her nose. Eventually, her body did remind her of her age and she slowed down. The forest was ever so familiar, the smells, the feeling of the dirt. However, something was wrong with the atmosphere. There was tension. Her ears perked up, looking around for anything amiss. The wind made the trees rustle their red and yellow leaves, the forest was moving as it always was. 

Carefully Lilith moved to walk on her hind legs, nose in the air. There was something that had been here recently. She also spotted a few broken twigs and moved earth- someone had moved through, most likely recently. Lilith moved and eventually in a clearing she saw a figure shift around. Human. 

Maybe it was another werewolf? Or someone lost? Or it was another illegal hunter looking for game and trophies? 

Ready to shift into her human form she moved- and a twig broke. 

The figure whipped around, yelling something that got stuck in her throat the moment they spotted the large werewolf form. Stumbling and falling back the person crawled backward against a tree. Lilith transformed into her human form trying to calm the human woman. 

“Listen, you are safe just-”

“I’m sorry! I will leave! I swear!”

“-tend that you never saw anything and-”

“I was just looking for something to eat-”

“-then walk away and pretend nothing changed.”

“- I don’t mean harm, I don’t do the hunt anymore.”

Lilith stared at the other. The hunt. The hunter stared back at her, eyes wide, fearful, raspy breaths filling the silence. And Lilith looked closer. 

“Petra?”

A beat.

“Oh shit, it’s you”, Petra relaxed against a tree trunk.  A weak smile spread across her face, “I’m glad you made it.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“Left the Hunt. Scavenging for anything that gets me money and food.” came the blunt answer. 

Lilith kneeled down in front of Petra and looked at her. Petra was pale, skin and hair dirty and oily. She had kept the dark circles under her eyes, sunken in just like her cheeks. Petra had also aged, but much more than Lilith had. Her clothes were also in bad condition. A worn-down leather jacket sat on top of a grimey hoodie and flannel. Considering the weather and the shape it was giving Petra, Lilith was sure that there were more layers hidden underneath. 

A dry cough made Petra lean away, and the fit shook her body for several minutes. Lilith moved next to her, laying a comforting hand against her back. 

When Petra stopped coughing her wheezing breath filled the air again. She leaned against the tree again, Lilith felt the cold of the leather jacket seep through her own jacket. She hadn’t dressed warmly, not expecting to run into someone. 

“You are sick”

“No shit” 

They started bickering a little. Petra kept trying to brush off anything regarding her horrible cold. Lilith kept insisting that she needs to take medication and some rest. Eventually, Lilith helped Petra get up- while still bickering about Petra’s use of Aspirin for her cold- and they walked together. Soon they reached a beat-up truck. Once white, it had multiple stains and some rust spots marked seams and edges. When Petra opened the door it creaked loudly. After rummaging around her glove box, pulling out varieties of leftover medications, she eventually shook a half-empty aspirin package in front of Lilith. Dropping one tablet into a bottle of water and watching it dissolve, she leaned against her truck. Lilith inspected the inside of the truck while walking around. A garbage can was in the foot space of the passenger seat, a sixpack of large water bottles and some smaller ones were there as well. A folder of some sort was buckled into the seat, a torn and dirty backpack laying on the seat. The driver space was relatively clean, despite the age and wear. A pack of cigarettes rested on the dashboard. The back of the truck was a whole different story. The backseats were folded down, a thin dirty mattress was laid out to make some kind of bed. Several blankets were crumpled in a corner with a pillow. 

“You sleep in your car?” 

“It’s none of your business. Stop staring into my car” came the grouchy voice of Petra. 

“You can stay with me. Until your cold is gone.”

“I said it’s none of your business, I can take care of myself.” 

“I’m taking you home”, and Lilith got into the driver seat and buckled in. 

She saw Petra do a double-take and sprint to the driver’s side. 

“You can’t do that! Get out!” Petra looked confused. 

Lilith had a hand on the wheel and rolled a window down. 

“Yes I can, now get in, I’m inviting you.”

“You think you are funny, don’t you. I can be alone” 

“I’m hilarious, thank you for noticing my great talent, now get in.” Lilith grinned. 

“Seriously?”

“Keys please!” she said with a smile holding her hand out.

“This is my car!”

Petra was staring out of the window, unmoving and sulking. Lilith felt bad for driving the other woman’s car, however, she was in a bad condition. The old truck rumbled through the forest. The silence was uncomfortable.

“Why are you being so nice? You could have killed me, have one hunter less.” eventually came from Petra. Her tone of voice was cold, but the underlying question was obvious: I want to die, why didn’t you kill me?

“Well, a long time ago someone gave me a chance at life for seemingly no reason. So I am giving you a chance, for seemingly no reason.” Lilith gave a sly smile to Petra, who groaned, shook her head, and looked out of the side window instead. 

During the first few days nothing much happened between the two of them. Petra mostly slept for her first three days, only moving somewhat to eat and drink when Lilith pestered her long enough. It was likely a mixture of exhaustion and cold medicine that kept her under the warm covers of the guest bed. 

By day four Petra was willing to stay awake for conversation. Lilith learned a few things such as that Petra hadn’t had a home in the past five years, and nothing permanent for ten. Or that she spent most money she earned on heart medication when not on food. Or that they were actually were born only a week apart. That one shocked Lilith the most. Petra looked so old and worn, life had not treated her kindly. There was a lot of story from Petra’s life that needed to be learned. But Petra stayed vague, giving up only casual and generic information if she wasn’t changing topics of the conversation.

On day five, Lilith had a little plan of attack for Petra. She pulled the recovering woman out of the bed. There was a small protest.

“You need to take a bath.”

“A bath?” “Well first a shower, and then a bath. I don’t think you will enjoy a good bath with the dirt you are already dragging around immediately in it.” 

Downstairs in her small farmhouse was a tiny shower, in which she pushed Petra. Petra looked a little lost at her sudden spa day but resigned to her forced comfort with a small sigh. 

Lilith had forgotten a towel for the shower, so she knocked on the door to let herself in. She also used the situation to grab Petra’s dirty clothes. She was sure that Petra would put them back on. As predicted it was layers upon layers of t-shirts and long sleeves, Petras solution to keeping warm. Out of shower room and she gave it a careful sniff. It definitely was stinky and long worn.  But the smells of forest and nature were also heavily imbued in it, and probably explained why she hadn’t been able to smell her in the forest when they met. Into the laundry it went. 

Upstairs she drew a bath, pouring in a good amount of bubbling soap. It smelled good. For a while, she sat next to the tub watching the water rise and contemplated what could have happened to Petra. Usually, hunters stay with their groups and family, for Petra to be alone it meant a lot. And what had happened to her in the past few years? Heart problems? No stable home? 

“You took my clothes”

Torn out of her thoughts Lilith looked over at Petra. Standing in the bathroom door, hair in a towel, body wrapped in another, Petra gave Lilith a stern look. 

“Did you turn three shades lighter with a shower only?” 

Petra rolled her eyes and stepped into the warm bathroom. Lilith smiled at her, and moved outside, closing the door.

“Call me if you need me.”

A mumbled ‘Yea yea’ came through the door. 

In the bathtub, Petra was staring at the ceiling trying to plan her next steps, but the warm water kept lulling her senses to lose track. Her eyes were heavy, and she rested her head on a towel, trying to stay awake. The water felt good, rubbing dirt and sweat off felt good. Feeling the heat of the water go into her muscles felt good. Despite having slept in a warm bed for a few days now, this little “spa day” truly relaxed her muscles. She started to feel like a person again. 

Eventually, the water had cooled down to the point that it was no longer relaxing, and Petra got out. She grabbed a towel but froze. A large mirror was right across from the bathtub, and for the first time in a long while did she look at herself. Skinny. A few bruises from a tumble down a hill. A scar from a broken arm in her youth. Old. So old and tired. She looked herself over, water dripping down. When she caught sight of the first black lines on her back, she grabbed the towel and went ahead to dry herself off. She didn’t feel like being reminded.

Hair up in a towel, wearing a fuzzy pajama she stared at herself again. If she hadn’t had a face one day removed from dying she would say she looked out of some catalog. The pajama was a striped white and a soft yellow. A small sun was embroidered on the left chest. 

A gentle knock pulled her out of her thoughts. 

“You okay in there?” 

Petra let Lilith inside, who gave her a look over. Petra wished she could disappear. 

“You already look better. I’m glad.” Lilith noted while rummaging through the bathroom closet below the sink. 

“I most certainly am cleaner now”, Petra said, looking back at the mirror, where the tired version of herself stared back. Did she really change this much?

Lilith directed Petra to sit on a small plastic stool, and plugged in a hairdryer. Petra tried to protest, Lilith didn’t need to take care of her like this all the time. But gentle fingers ran through her hair, and again Petra found herself turned sleepy by some warmth. Maybe just today she could allow the other to take care of her. Tomorrow she could leave.

After they were done Petra crawled into a bed with fresh sheets. She felt warm. Relaxed. And interestingly enough: safe.  Lilith was no threat. Maybe Petra could take her time here. Maybe she could just live for a while, not survive. Though she did not spend too much time thinking about it as sleep soon pulled her under. However, that night Petra joined Lilith for dinner for the first time.

[kazosa]

A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

Summary: All you wanted was to use your skills in automotive engineering and design to open your own custom car shop. When the rug gets yanked out from under you, one of your regular customers offers you a job that you just can’t resist. Will it stay a mutually beneficial arrangement, or will something unexpected bloom?

Pairing: AU Dean Winchester x Reader

Appearances by: Chuck Shurely, Donna Hanscum

Chapter Synopsis: reader and her boss, Chuck, have a talk and it doesn’t go well. Dean has a proposal to solve both of their problems.

Word count: 3450

Warnings: language, thievery, conniving

Tagging: @coffee-obsessed-writer (if you want to be added to the tags, holla)

(this will be a multi-chapter series until I get all the words out)

    Dean flipped the green invitation over in his hands, the gold lettering reflecting the light. It was same card stock the cheap, old bastard always used. This one, however, had a snowflake at the top and requested his presence for the annual Christmas party. The dread was already seeping in. The inevitable questions would come up.

    “Do you have a special someone?” then watching their faces drop when he said ‘no’. The disappointment, the sadness, the pity. If it didn’t come from his family, it would come from the shareholders.

    There had never been a real time-table on when his dad was going to retire, but John Winchester had been hinting heavily at it for the last six months. To make matters worse, Dean’s brother, Sam, had gotten engaged to his long-time girlfriend, Jess, at Thanksgiving.

    Dean never understood why being married was a requirement to run the family business. He didn’t need someone distracting him, there was no time for anything more than a one-night stand. His focus had been on creating new blends and staying relevant in the brewing community. If he was going to have any shot at running the business, he needed to, at least, make it look like he was going to have or already did have a long-term relationship.

    He tossed the invitation on the coffee table and got up from his couch. He had less than a week to get it figured out, but other things needed his attention. Grabbing his brown leather jacket and keys, he headed down to the garages. Baby needed a tune up and he didn’t have time to do it himself.

      Business was good. It was always good, and you were confident it was because of you. You did most of the work in the garage and stayed late to help with the books and maintaining inventory. Chuck was deep in the black and you weren’t being cut in on the profits. Getting your own custom design garage going had been a dream and you were saving up for it. You were still a year, maybe two away from having your start up capital at the rate you were going. With Chuck not sharing the profits you were responsible for generating, you asked him for a meeting to talk about it.

    “Damnit, Chuck, you can’t do this to me,” you pleaded. “I’m the reason you’re going on vacation every quarter. No one is going to give me the loans I need until I get my down payment secured. I was counting on you.”

    “(Y|N), if I hand you everything, you won’t appreciate what you have. You’ll never get the work ethic to see something through to completion without help,” he looked so smug sitting in his desk chair. “There’s nothing wrong with this garage and working here. I don’t understand why you’d want to leave.”

    The deep, throaty sounds of the muscle cars that were the bread and butter of the business were in the background noise of the rage you were feeling toward Chuck. You were vaguely aware of movement outside the door of Chuck’s office.

    “This is a load of bullshit. Do you hear yourself?! Do you actually believe the crap that comes out of your mouth? You know what an asset I am and you’re screwing me over to keep e here,” you could feel the heat of your rage begin to crawl up your neck.

    “I’d like to remind you that you’re under contract until the end of the month. You can either resign for another year, or you can walk.”

    “So, you’ve already made up your mind? This is it?” you were numb.

    “January 1st. 1 P.M. You’re not here to sign, I’ll consider your resignation immediate. No hard feelings,” Chuck’s voice was cool and controlled.

    “Anything else?” you matched his tone.

    “No. You can go,” he was almost glib.

    You were clenching your teeth, willing yourself not to break. Quickly, you turned and left Chuck’s office. the old wood and glass door rattled as it closed behind you. Too caught up in the disaster your life had suddenly become, you didn’t notice the man on the visitor couch until he cleared his throat.

    “The hell do you want?” you growled. “Oh, right, tune up.”

    You saw the car outside first before you’d put the information together.

    “Sorry, it’s not you. Winchester, right?” you asked.

    Dean stood up, but he didn’t move. For a man as big as he is and normally so confident, it was a little odd to see him so apprehensive.

    “Yes, but that’s not all,” he said.

    “Not interested,” you really hoped he wouldn’t be like the shocking majority of your customers and not hit on you. They all seemed to want to take you away, provide for you, or some crap about you being a woman mechanic. No one ever took time to get to know you.

    “What? No, wait. I have a proposition for you!” he tried to stop you from walking away.

    “Get the hell out of my garage,” you ordered.

    “Shit! No, it’s not like that! I mean, it is, but it’s not what you think,” he tried to get you to stop and listen.

    You looked at your crazy customer. Over the last year, you’d seen Dean for regular oil changes and a few other minor repairs you were sure he could have done himself. You’d gotten acquainted with him, but not much more than car talk.

    “Can we talk in private somewhere?” he asked earnestly.

    The ‘talk’ with Chuck was still ringing in your ears. You brushed off your hands on your coveralls and said, “Sure, what the hell.”

    The short walk to the café on the corner wasn’t long enough to cool off your flared temper. This Dean guy was working your nerves, too, but at least Donna’s brought the promise of hot drinks and donuts. Reaching for the door, you puled it open letting both you and Dean in. The smell of donuts, cookies, and coffee greeted you, as well as the owner of the store.

    “Hi kiddo!” she called from behind the counter. “Have a seat, be right with ya!”

    “She’s … cheerful,” Dean observed.

    You were feeling better already. Donna’s was the place you went to almost every day. She had the best donuts in town, a small variety of coffee, and now that the weather had turned, apple cider and hot chocolate.

    “Donna is the best. She takes care of everybody,” you felt yourself smiling. You stopped near your favorite booth and turned to face Dean.

    “Have a sea, I need to go wash my hands,” you held up your grease stained hands. “Donna keeps Lava for me. Be right back.”

    You didn’t wait for Dean to slide into the booth. You didn’t even care if he was there when you got back, but you were curious to hear what “proposition” he had for you. In the bathroom, you barely had time to turn on the faucet and grab the soap before Donna came bursting in through the door.

    “(Y|N)! Oh my gosh, who is mister cutie-pie out there?! And are you two going to…”

    “Donna! Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you warned.

    “What?! He’s CUTE! If you’re not going to, send him back my way, huh?”

    Donna was too much, sometimes.

    “He’s a customer and we’re going to talk business,” you were using the scrubbing soap Donna hid under the sink, just for you.

    “I don’t care, you better get his number, then tell me all about it!”

    “Donna!”

    The woman you thought of as a sister, gave you a wink before she bustled out of the bathroom. The gritty soap worked loose the grease that stuck to your skin and rinsed off your hands. The soap worked well but left your hands dry. When you put away the soap, you put half a pump of lotion in your hand and worked if into your skin. Miraculously, when you did a mirror check, no stray strands of hair had escaped your bandana headband. Calling it a win, you went back out to the booth where Dean was still waiting for you.

    Dean sat at the booth, hands clasped in front of him, looking a little nervous. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen that look on his face. If that was how he looked for a business deal, you didn’t think you wanted to hear it.

    Putting your hand on the bench, you slid into the booth across from Dean. The menu was on the table and you put your hand on it, walking your fingers on it to bring it closer to you.

    “So, ahh,” Dean’s hands rapped out a rhythm on the table top, “you come here often?”

    He couldn’t see your face behind the menu to gauge your reaction to his poor choice in words. You didn’t roll your eyes, but you did raise an eyebrow at him.

    “Almost every day,” you admitted dryly.

    “Donna seems nice,” he said.

    You didn’t look up from your menu. You already knew what you wanted, you got the same thing every time. You were just in a bad mood and wanted to make Dean squirm a little.

    “Look… Dean,” you relented and put down the menu. “I only have so much time for my break.”

    “Seems like you might have a lot of free time soon,” he ventured.

    “And just how long were you eavesdropping? Man, you’re really batting .1000,” your voice rose in volume and attitude.

    “Your boss wasn’t being quiet when he gave you the ultimatum. Tow the line or get out, right?” he paused a moment. “You don’t seem like the conforming type.”

    “Oh really, and what type do I seem like?” your volume increasing again.

    “Hi kids! What can I getcha?!” Donna zoomed over to your booth and kicked your boot under the table.

    You started, “I’ll have…”

    Donna cut you off again, and without even looking at you, she said, looking at Dean, “I know what you want, I was talking to handsome, here.”

    For the first time ever, Donna’s bubbly personality bugged the shit out of you. How dare she be nice to the smug jerk across from you.

    “Any recommendations?” Dean asked, sweet as can be.

    “Powdered sugar donuts are on special,” Donna answered.

    “They’re on special every day, Donna,” you grumbled.

    “Doesn’t make ‘em any less special, sweetie,” she said, the usual cheer in her tone, ignoring your our one.

    Dean glanced at you, his expression wondering what he was missing.

    “Um,” he stalled.

    Donna glared at you.

    “In all fairness,” your attention went to Dean, “they are pretty amazing.”

    “You sold me,” he said and handed his menu to Donna, “Two and a black coffee.”

    “I’ll be right back,” she said, then mouthed the words “BE NICE” to you before going back behind the counter to fill your orders. You gave Donna a noncommittal shrug. She was back in just a few short minutes.

      Dean suspected that (Y|N) would be a tough sell on his plan. The whole drive to the garage he thought about what he was going to say. None of it sounded good. It all came out like garbage. After he parked his baby in the to-service area, he stepped inside the garage through the pass-through doors and to the right.

    (Y|N) was hard to miss. Not only was she the only woman in the shop, she had a style all her won, even in work clothes. She was in the office talking to the owner, Chuck. She had her pulled up, a bandana wrapped around her head. Her coveralls had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and he couldn’t see, but he knew she was wearing beat up black combat boots.

    He took a seat in the waiting area. It didn’t take long before the conversation in the office became heated. He heard everything, and he finally knew how he could get her to help him. He stuck his foot in his mouth a few times, but she needed to get out of the shop and that worked to his advantage.

    They’d gone to a café on the corner and he found himself in a booth staring at an untrusting, angry (Y|N), and at a loss for words. (Y|N) gave off a vibe that she had zero fucks left to give, so he pulled no punches, even though he found her attitude slightly intimidating.

   “Look, I’m gonna get right to it, I need your help,” he began.

    “Oh yeah?” you were wary of what he might say next, “this is gonna be good.”

    “I’d like to pay you to do some…let’s call it ‘work.’ It’s out of the ordinary, but I’ll make it worth your while.”

    “How out of the ordinary are we talkin’ here?” you were curious.

    “I need a girlfriend for a week,” his voice was hushed

    You started sliding out of the booth, “You’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

   He half-stood on his side of the booth to stop you from leaving.

    “Hear me out, please. I swear it’s not what you think.”

    His hand was cool and firm on top of yours. When you looked at him, he was still hovering over his seat, his eyes pleading with you to stay. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was that made you change your mind, but you found yourself sitting back down in the booth to hear what he had to say.

    After you checked the time, you said, “You have fifteen minutes.”

    “My family owns a brewery and car dealerships where I’m from. My dad has been very controlling of it and didn’t want to try anything new or change anything about how business was done and... it was part of the reason I left.”

    “And the other part?” your curiosity about this job, and man, were growing.

    Dean squirmed in his seat. This was the tough part.

    “My dad thought it was important for the person he hands off the business to be in a solid relationship when he retires. They even tried to set me up with a “good girl” they thought would be good for me. Almost married her…There’s me and my brother left to take it over,” he said.

    “And you want it?” you guessed. You had other questions, but this was not the time.

    Dean nodded.

    “What’s the catch? There’s always a catch,” you asked.

    “The old man can spot a lie from a mile out. We’re really going to have to sell it. You might have to become my fiancé. I even have my grandmother’s ring if it comes down to it. The old man won’t give the business over unless he believes we’re real.”

    “What else are you leaving out?” you wanted to know.

    “My little brother got engaged at Thanksgiving. There’s a strong chance this won’t work,” he said.

    “And you’re afraid you’re not pop’s favorite?”

    “There’s that and I haven’t exactly been friendly with everyone and my track record with women has not been stellar,” he admitted.

    “You see he irony here, right?” you asked, and Dean gave you a “what are you gonna do” shrug.

    “Is your brother that much of a dick that he would try to snake the business from you by getting engaged?”

    “All he sees is the profit margins. He doesn’t love the business like I do. Never has.”

    You leaned back in the booth and polished off your donut and washed it down with the apple cider.

    “So, you want me to convince your family that we’re a sickeningly in love couple, so you can snake the business from him?” you deduced.

    Dean nodded again.

    “If I help you do this, what do I get out of it?” you wanted to know.

    “Would my unending appreciation be enough?” he asked.

    You crossed your arms and stared at him, unblinking, unamused by his joke.

    He leaned forward and spoke in hushed tones a though he were suddenly aware hey were in a public space.

    “I can provide the capital you needed that you aren’t getting from Chuck. I wouldn’t even need to be an investor. Just call it a gift, or a payment, or whatever, for services rendered,” he said.

    You definitely had not expected him to make you that kind of proposal. A lot of questions rolled through your head. How did he have that kind of money? He didn’t even know how much you needed. What was his dating history that he came to you?

    Dean was relieved that you were still in the booth with him. He could see you were thinking hard on what he’d offered.

    “And if you don’t get the business?”

    “Then I’m still screwed, and you can kick my ass,” he snorted.

    “I have the boots for that,” you said without missing a beat.

    “C’mon, sweetheart. Mutually beneficial deal here. Would it be so bad to pretend to like me for a week?”

    “No, not for the right price, I guess,” you said. “I’m not doing this for nothing, Winchester. And so long as we’re clear, it’s all for show. I’m not a whore to be bought, I just want my own garage. Why a week though?”

    “Not a problem. I don’t have time for a girlfriend, real or fake. The week is my dad’s doing. It’s the only time each year when we are required to show up. He makes a big deal out of it. Party for the whole company. Speaking of, do you have a dress?”

    You laughed, you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t believe the turn your day had taken. It was all so ridiculous. You had plenty of money saved, but you were unwilling to pony up the cash it would take to dress properly.

    “I have a dress, but I have no jewelry to go with it,” you said. “When do you need an answer about this?”

    You knew very little about Dean Winchester, but you’d found him to be mostly pleasant when you’d spoken to him in the past. You supposed there were worse ways to spend a week, especially with the possibility of losing your real job when you got back. But if it went well, you’d have the money to get your shop going. If it went poorly, you wouldn’t have your garage as quickly, but you might get a new friend out of it.

    “Soon as possible,” he responded.

    “I’ll let you know when you get your car tomorrow,” you started to slide out of the booth. “I gotta get back to work.”

      Dean followed her out of the booth and was going to walk her out when Donna stopped him.

    “Hey, buddy. No dine ‘n dash here,” she called out.

    He jerked his head around to see the back of (Y|N)’s coveralls walking away from him.

    “Nice,” he grumbled at her retreating figure. Turning back to the counter, he walked back to where Donna stood and pulled out his wallet. “My mistake.”

    Donna smiled brightly at him. It was like she had no “off” switch.

    “I used ta be a sheriff, didja know?” she asked.

    Dean shook his head and handed her a $20. Donna’s former career hadn’t come up in conversation.

    “Oh yeah. It gave me a particular set of skills acquired over a long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for guys like you. If you promise you’ll be a gentleman and not break my dear friend’s heart, I won’t look for you. I will not pursue you. But if you do, I will find you, and I will kill you.”

    Dean looked at the blonde woman. He felt like she was serious, but also like she might be jerking him around.

    “Did you just… Taken me?” he asked, waiting on his change.

    “Yeah! It’s good right?!”

    They both nodded and appreciated the reference. Donna turned serious again, her brown eyes burning through him.

    She extended her index finger at him to make her point, “I mean it, buck-o. You hurt her the D-Train is comin’ for ya.”

    She came around the corner, his change still in her hand.

    “It’s business, not happily ever after,” he said, letting her guide him to the door.

    “Well! That’s good, huh?!” she chirped. “Cuz cops know things. Thanks for the tip!” she put his change in her apron pocket.

    “Okay then,” she opened the door. “Thanks for coming in… Dean Winchester.” She patted his shoulder as she pushed him out the door. “Come back real soon, okay? Bye!”

    Dean walked out the door and was waiting for his ride to arrive before he realized he’d been hustled, twice.

    “Sonofabitch.”

Part 2

[snailanimations]

Ahhh, how about Lindsay for a redesign? She's cute in personality, but I'm not super fond of how she looks, haha

OKAY so here’s my redesign for Lindsay and I honestly really like it. I’m gonna talk about what I did and why, but I’ll put it under a cut for those who don’t care to know haha. the tl;dr of it all is that I think Total Drama is a product of it’s early-2000′s time and that’s why all the fashion is Bad, but! the rest is under the cut haha

I personally prefer the redesign but hey man it doesn’t have to be everyone’s cup of tea

SO my main issue with Lindsay was her disaster of an outfit and all the different tones that tend to compete with each other. I actually really like the blue of her eyes and the blue of her bandana matching, but when it’s all centered in one place it almost looks like an accident? especially since the bandana and eye color are slightly different shades of blue. Also, she’s a very saturated character. Her skin tone, hair, and clothing is all very saturated and it competes for the eye’s attention in a bad way. Not to mention, her undershirt situation is entirely pure red. I’m not kidding, I color selected straight off of her sprite from the show. What the fuck. It’s a good thing they used so little of it because that color is so incredibly grating on the eyes.

I’m not sure what’s going on with Lindsay’s skirt that looks like it’s supposed to be some kind of wrap? Also the cowboy boots don’t really seem to fit her personality at all. She’s not the type that particularly loves getting dirty (though to the creators’ credit, she doesn’t seem to despise it and freak out too much) and it just seems like an odd fashion choice for the outfit she already has. Maybe it was a 2000s preppy girl trend, who knows. I think bandanas were definitely on the list of trends though, to be fair.

Anyway, about what I changed: I kind of went for a more Barbie-esque aesthetic for her. I did unexaggerate her figure a small bit, but tried to keep her still fairly curvy and thin. Be it style or not, I noticed that Lindsay’s head has a bit of a heart-shape to it and, since she seems like a fashion-forward character, I leaned toward the thought that she would know the type of hairstyle that would compliment her face shape. (I didn’t know this, but google says it’s side-parted, sometimes with bangs, sometimes not, I opted for the bangs, though.)

I kept the bright blue of her eyes and gave her a headband instead, since it seems much more in line with today’s current fashion-trends. Even though headbands probably aren’t super trendy, they’re a step in the right direction. And I also tried to carry the blue a little farther and give her a beaded bracelet with the same colors so that it wouldn’t all be isolated onto her head. I made this her Accent Color so that something would draw your eye from her face to the rest of her body and her movements.

Speaking of her bracelets, I gave her some more of those because Lindsay definitely seems like the type who would want to accessorize. Instead of drawing more attention to her face, since there’s already plenty going on, I went for bracelets. I find jewelry to definitely be something that shows that a character is put together, at least in the fashion-sense, because it’s extra attention that has to be paid to your appearance every day when you get up and get dressed. I did a similar thing with her lipstick, since I thought Lindsay’s original lip color seemed incredibly natural for someone who was constantly seen putting on makeup? Sure natural lip colors are a thing, but why not go the extra mile?

I also kept the balance of colors the same, generally. Like in her original design, her lips and skirt are both similar in color, and her top and her boots match. I tried to keep the skirt as an accent piece, which I think is honestly more successful with it being red, instead of an orange tone that blends in with the brown and bright red of her top and boots. I think it’s more successful in pulling the eye toward the full character, rather than keeping it all fixated on her face.

I gave her a more frilly crop top to go with today’s fashion trends more, and then gave her a skirt pattern that actually makes sense, instead of her bandage skirt. Her boots were one of the first things I fixed in my head, since it makes much more sense for the boots to be more fashionable and less...cowboy? Plus they still match the top, as I said before.

I think the biggest change was making her more of a platinum blonde than a golden blonde, but I think her original hair color is extremely muddied and contributes to all the colors on her competing for each other. Using bright versions of red, blue, and yellow in the character design is an unfortunate decision, in my opinion, especially considering how easily they all blend together in a big mess. I think lightening the hair allowed it to fall more into the background of her face and outfit, which her design desperately needed. It also helped differentiate it from the tan of her skin tone, which I tried to retain in my redesign of her.

[dreamyloverharry]

Phylesha Live on Tour Part 2

Surprise! 

Two shows in to tour and you were quickly making friends with your new tour family. Part of your job was working directly with the main tour photographer, Hélène, whose work you had admired for a little while now, primarily for the fact she provided some of your favorite pictures of Harry on tour. You started out working closely together, getting tips from her on what type of shots were wanted for the profiles.

Harry still made you a little nervous, but making friends with everyone else on tour made you feel more comfortable.

After a few more shows, and a few more new photos of Harry that made the group message melt, Hélène felt like you had gotten comfortable enough to not work right under her wing anymore, and sent you off on your own to take some photos from the crowd from a different angle. As it got closer to show time, your typical routine became the two of you, along with Jeff and Anna, all going out into the crowd together, splitting up for a short while to take pictures from around the arena, but always finishing out the show together during the encore. Even after seeing multiple concerts by now, the few seconds when you were in the audience and the lights went down and the music stopped playing just seconds before Harry took the stage managed to give you butterflies every time.

One very early and particularly rainy morning, when the constant time zone changes were really hitting you, you decided to join the portion of the crew that gets to the venue first for the initial building of the stage because you were feeling a little restless on the crew tour bus and thought maybe some time alone to walk around the empty arena would help clear your head. After exploring the back stage areas a little, you decided to look for some potential places in the seated areas you might want to come back to take pictures from during the show later that night. After a few laps around the lower levels, you didn’t really realize how exhausting walking around an entire arena could be and wanted to find a place to sit down, maybe listen to a little music, and take a break before your day got busy once fans started to enter the venue. You liked that this time while the arena was empty and you had your choice of seats to sit in gave you a glimpse into what the fans would see later on. You decided to go to the upper levels to finish off your break, propping your feet up on the railing in front of you, and listening to Ever Since New York while you had the chance to listen to Harry’s music without being shy about it. From the front row of the highest balcony, something about watching the crew build the stage made you really aware of how crazy this whole thing was, and how lucky you felt to be living like this. Maybe it was a combination of the rain outside, the song choice bringing you back to waiting hours to see Harry in the rain, a little bit of jet lag kicking you especially hard, and an overwhelming feeling of how much you love how your life is right now, but you found yourself trying not to cry, and this time not because of something especially nice that Harry said to you.

You took a moment to be in your feelings and just let it all out without feeling like you needed to keep your feelings to yourself without worrying if your new coworkers would see you crying and ask why. Once you accidentally listened to the rest of Harry’s album, you realized your main crew friends you spent the most time with would probably be arriving in a little while, and you didn’t want them to think you were skipping out on work for the day if they didn’t know where you were since you were so hidden away in the seats. You made your walk up the steps to the halls, scrolling on your phone trying to see how the fans were responding to some of the HSHQ photos that you had posted.

When you stepped into the hallway you almost ran smack into Harry. He was dressed very similarly to how he was when you first met him in the elevator, except he’s wearing a bright highlighter yellow colored tennis shoes that seem vaguely familiar, the same bandana you met him in wrapped like a headband, and the same clip in his hair that he didn’t really need the first time, but sort of did now that his hair was getting just a touch longer. You both jumped out of each other’s way, and once Harry realized it was you, he did a very dramatic crash and spin into the wall as if there was an actual collision that knocked him off his path. He leaned over with his hands on his knees, mock catching his breath, but looked up at you after a second with a mischievous look on his face that you’ve seen a time or two before.

“Love, when I said you could meet me in the hallway, this isn’t quite what I meant,” he said with a slight laugh. You laughed at his old joke he used before, and may or may not have felt yourself blushing, hoping and praying it wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “Well maybe if you say what you really mean, I wouldn’t nearly run you over!” you joke back to him as he cracks a grin and stands up properly, walking a few steps back over to you with his hands on his hips. “What are you even doing here already anyways? Sound check isn’t for a few more hours,” you ask.

“I thought I’d get a run in before the show, and I can’t quite do that if it’s raining outside, can I? Didn’t want to get in the way runnin’ round the floor while they’re settin’ up the stage, and I thought nobody would be up here, but ya had to go poppin’ out of doorways nearly givin’ me a heart attack!” he said with half a smile. “I could ask you the same thing, though. Anna and Helene aren’t going to be here for a few more hours either, did they send you over to get some empty arena shots or something?” he asks you after a moment.

“Consider it what you get for scaring me about eight different times the past few weeks!” you reply, referencing the few jump scares Harry had accidentally been the cause of, including twice at breakfast, once when you thought he had already gone on stage, and one particularly terrifying moment when he was standing behind the door to the lounge you were opening while he was about to exit. “I was feeling a little cooped up on the bus and felt like having a look around. I was just on my way to the lounge backstage, so I’ll let you get back to your run,” you explain, not wanting to hold him up if he wanted some time to himself before performing later.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’ve already gotten a lot done so I can call it a day. If ya don’t mind though, my mum was asking me for pictures of where I was today, so would you mind taking a few I could send to her?” he asked, nodding his head for you to follow him as he leads the way for the two of you to walk together to the main floor of the arena, the mention of Anne making your heart flutter for a moment. “I can send you some that Helene and I take tonight after we edit them, of course,” you reply. You notice that he’s no longer walking behind you, and instead he’ stopped a couple steps back, has turned around, looking over his shoulder in a ridiculous pose. “Or we could take a few while we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he replies turning back around to face you properly, striking another dramatic pose with one hand back to his hip and the other behind the back of his head.

You shake your head at him and roll your eyes, the dramatics really doing you in, as you take a few test shots on your phone as he come up with more ridiculous poses. After a few photos in the hallway, a few sitting on the stairs, and a few mock buying something from the concessions stand, the two of you end up on the main floor where the stage is practically finished. You notice Jeff and Anna standing just off to the side of the backstage entrance, meaning you both should probably head backstage to sign in for the day soon. Harry walks a few steps ahead of you down the path that leads to the B stage in the back of the room, taking in the stage in the few hours that the room is still empty. You let him take in the view the crowd will see on his own, wondering if this is something he’s always done or a new habit he picked up on his own. When he turns around and gives you a smile, he takes your breath away like he did the very first time in the elevator.

“Take this one, I think my mum would like it,” he says before giving a big cheesy grin and a thumbs up to the camera, slightly tilting his head to the side. Your heart melted into about six hundred pieces as he leaned in close over your shoulder while you showed him the pictures you took, how close he was standing to you making your heart melt.

“I fucking swear I just need this man to wear yellow on stage so I can die in peace.”

You swiped away the twitter notification at lighting speed, praying with every ounce of you he didn’t have the chance to read the message. “Just go ahead and send me all of them, I really like them, thanks!” he says squeezing your shoulders. You send them all in a new message and suddenly get another idea for a photo you want from him. “Wait, wait, wait, I’ve got another idea,” you direct him, taking his hand and leading him up the steps onto the stage. You place your hands on his shoulders to guide him to stand exactly where you wanted facing away from where the audience will be, placing his arms in position, outstretched to his sides. You quickly run back halfway down the steps to take the photo, roughly inspired by the picture of him at Madison Square Garden from 2012, knowing a recreation was well overdue.

Without any context, you quickly sent it to the group, then of course next to Harry, since he was the one who asked for photos in the first place. You look up from your phone to see Harry smiling down at you, extending his hand to help you up the steps. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, taking his hand and meeting him at the top on the stage. “Thanks, for making me look nice, darling, I’ve got a bit of an image to keep up,” he says, dropping your hand to do a dramatic twirl with his arms open wide again.

Your phone was blowing up with notifications, half of the group message presumably found dead.

[qualitytacolover]

19 cutest curly pixie haircuts for curly haired girls

New Post has been published on https://www.easypromhairstyles.com/19-cutest-curly-pixie-haircuts-for-curly-haired-girls-2.html

19 cutest curly pixie haircuts for curly haired girls

A curly pixie cut is a short haircut for women with naturally curly hair that is layered and creates a bridled effect. An all-time trend that first exploded in the 1960s, this universally flattering hairstyle is revered by many for its volume, definition, and high fashion appeal!

It's a look that can literally rid you of your worries and hug your natural hair structure – without the weight of long curls. If you're the type who loves a messy, get-up-and-go look and has less time to spend every morning on styling, then you're on the right track!

Curly pixies are not just an everyday hairstyle, they also go with night outings and formal events. Marvel at how Ruth Negga, Halle Berry, Blake Lively and Rihanna confidently wear while walking the red carpet!

Keeping the length and shape of a shiny curly short haircut might require salon visits every 3-4 weeks, and for styling it really depends on your desire. The use of products like gel, spray, and cream can help to de-frizz and define your curls.

There are many trendy options to pull off a curly pixie cut. Read on to learn the right cutting and styling tricks that are personal for you!

Pixie for black hair

How would you describe this look?

We are all in love with this vintage and versatile form. Pixie haircuts for curly hair like this are all about keeping the sides short and the top growing out. Her hair is a super fine coiled texture, but this cut can be customized for any type of curl. It's great because you can wear the hair in front of your ears for a softer 70s vibe or smooth it behind your ear for a polished / elegant look.

Any advice for someone considering it?

For every curly cut, I recommend a cream to de-frizzle / define and a spray or gel to hold the curls in place. Here I styled her curls with motion. Lotion and sprinkle it big with session. Spray (both Kevin.Murphy products). This cut works best for people with strong features like high cheekbones, big eyes or a strong jaw.

Red curly pixie

How would you describe this look?

We call this short curly pixie cut the "big heel", and I used my own technique called the "curlspiration" cut to achieve this look.

My favorite part is that I can connect with my curly girls on a deeper level. Fortunately, not all of her hair was damaged, so we kept the top longer, which gave it an edgy look.

Many times when the big chop and when the hair is healthy enough, we do a bold color because it makes them want to celebrate and let go of a part of them that they couldn't feel. This gorgeous girl wanted a bold red one , I used Chi Ionic 6RR and 20 volumes to get their base color and a high lift red at the ends to create a pop of brightness and some dimension.

Any advice for someone considering it?

You don't need to have previously damaged hair to go short for a curly look. I love pixies on curly girls because the hair is already structured. I feel like it creates a fun overall look.

Any curl pattern from 2a to 4c can rock a pixie. Just be sure to look for pictures with girls who have your curl type so you can have an idea of ​​how it turns out. Choose at least 3 different looks so your stylist can help you choose one that best suits your face shape. Holding the hair a little longer and rounded on the top works for the round, square, and oval faces.

Like most of us curly girls, we use a lot of product in our hair, so a curly pixie can save so much time and money! You can still use the same products that you used while your hair was long, but you will only use less! Most girls find that they narrow it down to one product as well, whether you're a gel lover or a cream lover.

Always keep the curls hydrated, especially when you are doing color. I always recommend the Deva Curl Conditioners because I believe they give the best hydration. The only downside is that you will see your stylist more often. I see my customers every 3-6 months with my Pixie Curlies. I see them every 6-8 weeks.

Pixie Bob Perm for an oval face

How would you describe this look?

This is a pixie bob perm. Her hair is naturally very thick and straight, but has a natural texture.

This is a short curly hair cut with a perm that is not as short as a pixie but not quite a medium length either. The color is actually its natural plus old highlights. It looks lighter and blends after the perm because it sometimes lightens the hair a little.

My favorite part of this hair is that it is really easy to wear hair. She is a busy mother with a toddler. With this perm you can restyle and look so cute without washing every day. She can put on a scarf or headband and that can do her bad hair day as well. It was really a nice refreshing change for her to have curly hair right now!

Any advice for someone considering it?

If you're considering a perm, make sure you have adequate advice before booking a full appointment. Collect some pictures to really show what size of curls you want and how natural you want it to look, and bring your hair story too. This is very important because your hair integrity matters.

For the cut, I personally cut before perm and touch or texture afterwards. If you have too much texturing it can be difficult if we wrap on the bar.

I love preparing my or naturally curly hair with Pureology Fanatic Color – one of my favorite light moisturizing leave-in conditioners that is also color safe. The client can also use it wet or dry so that he can inject on the second or third day to hydrate her curl.

L’Oreal professional (Hollywood Curl series) Wave Fatal and Spiral Queen are the layered products that I love for thick curly hair. Dry after the towel if your hair is still wet. I start with Wave Fatal. Apply liberally, then on top, I layer Spiral Queen Mousse on top.

Scrunch the hair to bring the curls and diffuse or air dry.

Messy pixie

How would you describe this look?

This is a conical pixie with a full, voluminous crown. I think Nicolle compares her cut to a mohawk, but the shape tapers to the top of the occipital bone.

My favorite thing about this haircut on Nicole is the way she highlights her eyes and cheekbones. She used to have a fringed bob, and by comparison, it really lifts and accentuates her features! A bonus is that their balayage is over 9 months old, but there are still a few bits left by the tips.

Any advice for someone considering it?

In my opinion everyone can pull off short hair! It is about feeling confident in your stylist and her ability to work with your texture. I think the biggest thing to keep in mind when you go short is maintenance.

Nicolle sees me every 8-10 weeks for a cut, and once in between to rejuvenate her sides and back. She invests more time and money than with a bob. Even with short hair, Nicole still needs to use a diffuser to get the volume you see in the photo.

Curly undercut

How would you describe this look?

I love this curly pixie because it makes the sides incredibly short, but blends the top in a way to keep the silhouette soft, which my guest wanted. There was a challenge in how long she would keep her curls up, so it stayed tight enough to keep the shape but long enough to have the freedom to style with. I think my favorite part of this cut was the transformation it had on it! There is something very powerful about a large chop and it was very obvious to this guest.

Any advice for someone considering it?

Think about maintenance. You need to have your hair cut much more often than if your hair is longer, so take that into account in your budget and time. If her hair were less curly on top, she would have to be styled much more often.

Shapes like this are fun, because depending on the product and styling, it can easily change to a completely different shape. Face shape plays in styling – for example, if you have a round face, styling is helpful to give yourself more height unless your goal is to emphasize that round shape.

We cleaned and conditioned with DevAUrl Original and used DevAUrl B’Leave-in to get started because her hair is thick but fine. We then finished it with Light Defining Gel and dried it under a hood dryer at a low setting.

A very curly pixie

How would you describe this look?

This is a curly pixie haircut with playful caramel ribbons that run all the way! She's about to grow out after shaving, and as we all know, growing up can be a bear. So it's a great idea to spice it up with color.

Highlights that are too fine can tend to get lost on these types of natural curls. With her hair having that perfect curling band texture, I pop the highlights a little chunkier for this color. This shows plenty of their natural color that really triggers the caramel curls! I kept her hair close to my neck and left a little hair around my ear. She can either put it back or let it go.

I love a short cut with this tight natural curl and the color adds even more character to the style!

Any advice for someone considering it?

There are a few things to consider when considering this style. You work with the natural curl and texture instead of fighting against it. This is a great style for someone who likes little maintenance on the go. Remember, low maintenance doesn't mean boring! You could just as easily go to the gym or a night on the town with this style.

Accessorizing short hair is so much fun! Don't forget bandanas, jewelry headbands and earrings – simple earrings with a breathtaking hair clip or statement hoops can really trigger these curls!

Using her natural curl was as easy as using the right products and diffuser with a very restricted airflow diffuser. I have used all Redken Curvaceous styling products. This cut is also super cute with the front bang area pinned to the side. Another thing that most people value is face shape. She has an oval face and ovals can get away with almost anything. However, I don't keep face shape as the end of all standard. Don't let the "rules" stop you from trying something new. Play according to your own style rules!

Super short and curly

Keep it cool and real with your curly hair. Pixie cuts like this with razored sides add more volume at the top. If you sat and just need it, this is for you.

Ideal for curly thick hair

Tame the wild hair by keeping it short. Curly pixie haircuts like this are guaranteed to have bouncy and vibrant hair with all textures.

Layered pixie

Drastic changes like a big chop can add volume to your hair. Curls like this are another cause of a physical short cut.

Structured for fine hair

If you're considering pixie cuts for curly hair that's fine, opt for layers and styling to mimic fullness. It's like being blessed with chunky locks, of course.

Curly pixie with bangs

Mousse to curls keep this tight even its flocked shape. Let a strand or two hang over your face to create this cute pixie cut with bangs.

Lateral wavy pixie

Doesn't that look like your 3 year old's haircut? The nostalgia on this wavy pixie cut is serious!

Cute naturally curly pixie

If you have curls this natural, every style is a cute style. I'm sure the pixie will make it even sweeter!

Long pixie

How can a pixie cut be long? Well, see for yourself and wear this style for a seriously aesthetic cut.

Blonde pixie

Flossy White looks really delicate on curly pixie cuts. The soft curls and the short cut complement this wonderfully.

Voluminous pixie

For all curlheads out there, try this naturally curly pixie cut and you will never be disappointed. All styles come with ease and comfort.

Asymmetrical cut

Having an uneven cut can bring a soft look because it balances your facial features. The curls give volume and texture and complete the whole style.

For thin curly hair

Get your Liza Minnelli-inspired curly look in a blonde shape! Fingers comb through hair mist sprays for a more structured look.

Pixie for a round face

It's best to hold the cut just above and around the ear area for a framing look. The curls give it a more edgy look.

[easynaturalhairstyle]

19 cutest curly pixie haircuts for curly haired girls

A curly pixie cut is a short haircut for women with naturally curly hair that is layered and creates a bridled effect. An all-time trend that first exploded in the 1960s, this universally flattering hairstyle is revered by many for its volume, definition, and high fashion appeal!

It's a look that can literally rid you of your worries and hug your natural hair structure – without the weight of long curls. If you're the type who loves a messy, get-up-and-go look and has less time to spend every morning on styling, then you're on the right track!

Curly pixies are not just an everyday hairstyle, they also go with night outings and formal events. Marvel at how Ruth Negga, Halle Berry, Blake Lively and Rihanna confidently wear while walking the red carpet!

Keeping the length and shape of a shiny curly short haircut might require salon visits every 3-4 weeks, and for styling it really depends on your desire. The use of products like gel, spray, and cream can help to de-frizz and define your curls.

There are many trendy options to pull off a curly pixie cut. Read on to learn the right cutting and styling tricks that are personal for you!

Pixie for black hair

How would you describe this look?

We are all in love with this vintage and versatile form. Pixie haircuts for curly hair like this are all about keeping the sides short and the top growing out. Her hair is a super fine coiled texture, but this cut can be customized for any type of curl. It's great because you can wear the hair in front of your ears for a softer 70s vibe or smooth it behind your ear for a polished / elegant look.

Any advice for someone considering it?

For every curly cut, I recommend a cream to de-frizzle / define and a spray or gel to hold the curls in place. Here I styled her curls with motion. Lotion and sprinkle it big with session. Spray (both Kevin.Murphy products). This cut works best for people with strong features like high cheekbones, big eyes or a strong jaw.

Red curly pixie

How would you describe this look?

We call this short curly pixie cut the "big heel", and I used my own technique called the "curlspiration" cut to achieve this look.

My favorite part is that I can connect with my curly girls on a deeper level. Fortunately, not all of her hair was damaged, so we kept the top longer, which gave it an edgy look.

Many times when the big chop and when the hair is healthy enough, we do a bold color because it makes them want to celebrate and let go of a part of them that they couldn't feel. This gorgeous girl wanted a bold red one , I used Chi Ionic 6RR and 20 volumes to get their base color and a high lift red at the ends to create a pop of brightness and some dimension.

Any advice for someone considering it?

You don't need to have previously damaged hair to go short for a curly look. I love pixies on curly girls because the hair is already structured. I feel like it creates a fun overall look.

Any curl pattern from 2a to 4c can rock a pixie. Just be sure to look for pictures with girls who have your curl type so you can have an idea of ​​how it turns out. Choose at least 3 different looks so your stylist can help you choose one that best suits your face shape. Holding the hair a little longer and rounded on the top works for the round, square, and oval faces.

Like most of us curly girls, we use a lot of product in our hair, so a curly pixie can save so much time and money! You can still use the same products that you used while your hair was long, but you will only use less! Most girls find that they narrow it down to one product as well, whether you're a gel lover or a cream lover.

Always keep the curls hydrated, especially when you are doing color. I always recommend the Deva Curl Conditioners because I believe they give the best hydration. The only downside is that you will see your stylist more often. I see my customers every 3-6 months with my Pixie Curlies. I see them every 6-8 weeks.

Pixie Bob Perm for an oval face

How would you describe this look?

This is a pixie bob perm. Her hair is naturally very thick and straight, but has a natural texture.

This is a short curly hair cut with a perm that is not as short as a pixie but not quite a medium length either. The color is actually its natural plus old highlights. It looks lighter and blends after the perm because it sometimes lightens the hair a little.

My favorite part of this hair is that it is really easy to wear hair. She is a busy mother with a toddler. With this perm you can restyle and look so cute without washing every day. She can put on a scarf or headband and that can do her bad hair day as well. It was really a nice refreshing change for her to have curly hair right now!

Any advice for someone considering it?

If you're considering a perm, make sure you have adequate advice before booking a full appointment. Collect some pictures to really show what size of curls you want and how natural you want it to look, and bring your hair story too. This is very important because your hair integrity matters.

For the cut, I personally cut before perm and touch or texture afterwards. If you have too much texturing it can be difficult if we wrap on the bar.

I love preparing my or naturally curly hair with Pureology Fanatic Color – one of my favorite light moisturizing leave-in conditioners that is also color safe. The client can also use it wet or dry so that he can inject on the second or third day to hydrate her curl.

L’Oreal professional (Hollywood Curl series) Wave Fatal and Spiral Queen are the layered products that I love for thick curly hair. Dry after the towel if your hair is still wet. I start with Wave Fatal. Apply liberally, then on top, I layer Spiral Queen Mousse on top.

Scrunch the hair to bring the curls and diffuse or air dry.

Messy pixie

How would you describe this look?

This is a conical pixie with a full, voluminous crown. I think Nicolle compares her cut to a mohawk, but the shape tapers to the top of the occipital bone.

My favorite thing about this haircut on Nicole is the way she highlights her eyes and cheekbones. She used to have a fringed bob, and by comparison, it really lifts and accentuates her features! A bonus is that their balayage is over 9 months old, but there are still a few bits left by the tips.

Any advice for someone considering it?

In my opinion everyone can pull off short hair! It is about feeling confident in your stylist and her ability to work with your texture. I think the biggest thing to keep in mind when you go short is maintenance.

Nicolle sees me every 8-10 weeks for a cut, and once in between to rejuvenate her sides and back. She invests more time and money than with a bob. Even with short hair, Nicole still needs to use a diffuser to get the volume you see in the photo.

Curly undercut

How would you describe this look?

I love this curly pixie because it makes the sides incredibly short, but blends the top in a way to keep the silhouette soft, which my guest wanted. There was a challenge in how long she would keep her curls up, so it stayed tight enough to keep the shape but long enough to have the freedom to style with. I think my favorite part of this cut was the transformation it had on it! There is something very powerful about a large chop and it was very obvious to this guest.

Any advice for someone considering it?

Think about maintenance. You need to have your hair cut much more often than if your hair is longer, so take that into account in your budget and time. If her hair were less curly on top, she would have to be styled much more often.

Shapes like this are fun, because depending on the product and styling, it can easily change to a completely different shape. Face shape plays in styling – for example, if you have a round face, styling is helpful to give yourself more height unless your goal is to emphasize that round shape.

We cleaned and conditioned with DevAUrl Original and used DevAUrl B’Leave-in to get started because her hair is thick but fine. We then finished it with Light Defining Gel and dried it under a hood dryer at a low setting.

A very curly pixie

How would you describe this look?

This is a curly pixie haircut with playful caramel ribbons that run all the way! She's about to grow out after shaving, and as we all know, growing up can be a bear. So it's a great idea to spice it up with color.

Highlights that are too fine can tend to get lost on these types of natural curls. With her hair having that perfect curling band texture, I pop the highlights a little chunkier for this color. This shows plenty of their natural color that really triggers the caramel curls! I kept her hair close to my neck and left a little hair around my ear. She can either put it back or let it go.

I love a short cut with this tight natural curl and the color adds even more character to the style!

Any advice for someone considering it?

There are a few things to consider when considering this style. You work with the natural curl and texture instead of fighting against it. This is a great style for someone who likes little maintenance on the go. Remember, low maintenance doesn't mean boring! You could just as easily go to the gym or a night on the town with this style.

Accessorizing short hair is so much fun! Don't forget bandanas, jewelry headbands and earrings – simple earrings with a breathtaking hair clip or statement hoops can really trigger these curls!

Using her natural curl was as easy as using the right products and diffuser with a very restricted airflow diffuser. I have used all Redken Curvaceous styling products. This cut is also super cute with the front bang area pinned to the side. Another thing that most people value is face shape. She has an oval face and ovals can get away with almost anything. However, I don't keep face shape as the end of all standard. Don't let the "rules" stop you from trying something new. Play according to your own style rules!

Super short and curly

Keep it cool and real with your curly hair. Pixie cuts like this with razored sides add more volume at the top. If you sat and just need it, this is for you.

Ideal for curly thick hair

Tame the wild hair by keeping it short. Curly pixie haircuts like this are guaranteed to have bouncy and vibrant hair with all textures.

Layered pixie

Drastic changes like a big chop can add volume to your hair. Curls like this are another cause of a physical short cut.

Structured for fine hair

If you're considering pixie cuts for curly hair that's fine, opt for layers and styling to mimic fullness. It's like being blessed with chunky locks, of course.

Curly pixie with bangs

Mousse to curls keep this tight even its flocked shape. Let a strand or two hang over your face to create this cute pixie cut with bangs.

Lateral wavy pixie

Doesn't that look like your 3 year old's haircut? The nostalgia on this wavy pixie cut is serious!

Cute naturally curly pixie

If you have curls this natural, every style is a cute style. I'm sure the pixie will make it even sweeter!

Long pixie

How can a pixie cut be long? Well, see for yourself and wear this style for a seriously aesthetic cut.

Blonde pixie

Flossy White looks really delicate on curly pixie cuts. The soft curls and the short cut complement this wonderfully.

Voluminous pixie

For all curlheads out there, try this naturally curly pixie cut and you will never be disappointed. All styles come with ease and comfort.

Asymmetrical cut

Having an uneven cut can bring a soft look because it balances your facial features. The curls give volume and texture and complete the whole style.

For thin curly hair

Get your Liza Minnelli-inspired curly look in a blonde shape! Fingers comb through hair mist sprays for a more structured look.

Pixie for a round face

It's best to hold the cut just above and around the ear area for a framing look. The curls give it a more edgy look.

19 cutest curly pixie haircuts for curly haired girls

[the--blackdahlia]

Sentient Chapter 1 (Tom x OC)

Title: Sentient Chapter 1

Summary:  Caia Richards is a up and coming ground breaker in the computer software industry. She's a lover of old technology and also Tom Hiddleston's fiancee. But when her Virtual Reality starts to become something outside of her control, Tom might just have to learn how to handle her world in order to save her life.

Warning: None for this chapter

AN: So I posted this awhile ago, but I decided to repost! It’s not a reader insert, but I hope you guys still like it!

The sounds of Nirvana could be heard down the hallway and down the stairs that led to the basement as Tom unlocked the front door to the house and walked in, luggage in hand. He smiled to himself some. He was glad that their house was in a more secluded part of the neighborhood, where the houses weren’t on top of each other and it set on a couple acres of land. The last thing he wanted after being gone for a while was to come home to police trying to get her attention for blaring music that the old lady down the street considered to be “devil worshipping”. At least it was good music, as far as Tom was concerned.

Dropping his bags off in the foyer, and making a note to drag them up to their bedroom later, Tom made his way into the kitchen. A half empty cup of coffee set on the counter, the k-cup hastily thrown in the trash, like it had been a second thought in someone’s mind on the way to something more important. Tom had to laugh. Especially because he knew that wasn’t the only k-cup in the trash and there had probably been about several consumed before he was even in town.

Tom grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and made his way to the basement door, where he could hear the music clearly. He knew knocking wouldn’t do any good, so he pushed open the door and made his way down to the finished basement where she had her office set up. And by office, it was more like a museum for archaic technology that she just couldn’t bring to let die. That’s why Nirvana’s Nevermind on a turntable.

Tom stood off to the side for a bit, watching her working at her disaster of a desk. She had her glasses on, meaning she had been staring at this work computer for a while now. She had a purple pen in her mouth, making it easy to jot down notes that she didn’t want to add to the programming quite yet. Her short, dark hair was pulled up with a red bandana headband. His beautiful Caia, hard at work. He moved just a bit, and she could see his reflection in her monitor. She dropped her pen and spun in her chair, a smile on her face.

“Tom!” Caia cheered, jumping up, making the chair spin around, and wrapping her arms around him. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve greeted you at the door.”

“I figured you were in programmer mode.” Tom chuckled, nodding at the computer where her top secret project was being worked on. Caia laughed some and rubbed the back of her sore neck. She didn’t realize just how long she had been sitting in the same position, staring at the screen, until Tom had snapped her out of her world.

“Well, I missed you.” She smiled at him. He smiled back for a second before closing the space between them and kissing her gently. She closed her eyes, letting her tired eyes rest for a second as she kissed her loving fiancé for the first time in weeks. They would Skype and text, but they hadn’t had the chance to be in the same room as each other for a while. He was off filming and she was working on the next big technological movement. But right now, it was just the two of them.

“God, I missed that. And I missed you.” Tom said softly after they parted. He held her close to him, not wanting to let go of her. He had been away from Caia for too long at this point. But after countless years as friends, four years of dating, and going on three years of being engaged, Tom knew that a little time apart was needed from time to time. Didn’t mean that it hurt any less when he had to be gone for a long period of time.

“Tom, I haven’t showered. I probably stink.” Caia laughed. “Let me clean up and save my progress then we can get some food. Or just go to bed. I’m sure that you probably have a little jet lag.”

“I’m not really sure what I want right now.” Tom said. “But maybe that shower would be a good idea for you.” He made a gesture of fanning a smell away from him, making Caia roll her eyes.

“Hahaha. You’re sooooo funny.” Caia made her way back over to her computer, starting the save process before heading upstairs.

“How is the VR coming?” Tom asked, following her.

“It’s…something.” She said with a sigh. “It’s just taking a lot longer to work out some of the bugs than I thought it would. But I’m going to the lab in a few days and going to try it out, see how well it works before I take it to the board.” Tom smiled, loving to hear her talk about her work. He wasn’t exactly technological friendly, but he knew how much she loved it, watching her get excited over finding the rare gem of an Apple product at a thrift store or finding a floppy disk in a color or design she didn’t have yet. She listened to him go on and on about Shakespeare and she worked through scripts with him, and she set through tennis matches with him, so it was the least he could do. Plus, she had introduced him to many American things that he didn’t ever think he would like, and here they were. A nice little combination of both of their interests under one roof.

“I’m just glad you have a job you love.” He said. “That you finally found what you wanted to do.” There had been a part in their relationship where Caia had had a crisis. Because Tom was doing what he wanted to do with his life, successful and on the way to being the go to actor. And she was still at a crossroads in her life, not sure if she wanted to teach, take up acting, be a homemaker, or what. But technology had always been a big part of her life, and after taking a couple certification classes, she started working at a software company as an assistant, and worked her way up to the development department. Caia Richards, queen of the programmers, as Tom lovingly called her.

“Let me go shower and I’ll take a nap with you. Then food. I need fuel.” She laughed. She had been living on coffee, junk food, and Kickstarts for a few days now. She needed a real meal sometime soon. Even if it was pizza. She just needed something a little better than Cheetos.

“Sounds like a plan.” Tom yawned. He would need a few hours to recharge before he did anything, whether it be eating or having some fun with his sweet Caia. He kissed her again as she made her way towards the stairs to their upstairs master suite, and playfully swatted at her ass.

“Thomas William Hiddleston.” She laughed.

“What? I can’t help it.” He joked. She shook her head and headed to the beautiful master bath while Tom stripped down and climbed into bed. He had planned to stay awake to talk to Caia, but before he knew it, he was drifting off to sleep. By the time Caia got out of the shower, fresh and clean, Tom was already snoring. Caia had to laugh. Mr. Actor claimed he didn’t snore. She shook her head, deciding to record him at another time. She climbed into bed by him. She wasn’t extremely tired, so she checked a few emails, mainly people from her team asking about progress and her friends telling her how excited they were to demo the VR in a few months. Finally, after doing a little reading, she drifted off by Tom, feeling his arms wrapping around her in her sleep.

Forever Tags: @petrovadixon @aiaranradnay @theas-bedtime-stories @af112992 @itsyaboy-skeetulrich @dekahg @cutie1365 @crownedloki @kenzie-110101 @bandobsession98 @secretlyshycomputer @whatisauser @nanie5 @marvel-af @sammat97 @dslocum89

Tom/Loki Tags: @sheris532

[dragonbagel]

Retrograde - Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[thank u all for interacting, i rly appreciate it!]

Jack had never met Sasha before, but he already knew he hated her. He’d only seen her in one of Rhys’ old photos that he took out when he was feeling nostalgic, although Jack knew that he kept it in the nightstand drawer on his side of the bed.

Sometimes, when Rhys wasn’t home, Jack would carefully take it out and look at it. Although he’d never say it to Rhys, he loved the goofy smile that he wore on his face in the photograph. It was the same one he wore whenever Jack cracked a stupid joke or said he loved him, but it looked different on his younger features. He had to have been no older than 17 when the photo was taken, sprawled out on a couch with his friends. One of them, a girl in a weird hat whose paleness nearly rivaled Rhys’, had her arms folded in mock annoyance. The blonde next to her, whom Jack recognized as Athena’s girlfriend Janey, was cracking a wide grin that showed off her braces. A Hispanic-looking kid could be seen lurking in the background, a bandana holding his ponytailed hair from his face and thick goggles hanging around his neck. He appeared to be laughing at what someone had said off camera. Jack wished he could ask Rhys what had been so funny– he knew that Rhys still remembered– but Rhys wasn’t particularly fond of talking about his life on Pandora, and Jack didn’t want to push him.

And then there was Sasha, whose mere presence pissed him off. She was on the couch next to Rhys, snuggled against his side. He had his right arm wrapped around her shoulders– his real arm, not the cybernetic one he had now– and Jack felt a twinge of jealousy. When was the last time Rhys had held him like that? He ached to be near him, to lean against his chest, to breathe in the sweet smell of his skin. After the fight, it was like he’d forgotten how to live on his own. He made a mental note to work in some extra cuddle time when this whole ordeal was over. But first, he thought grimly to himself, he needed Sasha’s help.

“Is this the place?” Nisha asked, nodding in the direction of the closed apartment door in front of them. Jack nodded, checking one last time that the coordinates matched up before slamming his fist against the door.

“Open up, sweet cheeks! There’s a fucking emergency!” he shouted, ignoring Nisha’s quite obvious eye roll.

After a moment, the door cracked open a little, and Jack could see a bright green eye staring at him from within the darkened interior. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Handsome goddamn Jack, pumpkin,” he said as he threw his weight against the door, forcing it to open and knocking Sasha backwards in the process.

“What the fuck?” Sasha yelled, reaching towards her ankle to grab her pistol and force these lunatics out of her apartment.

She hadn’t even managed to get the safety off before she felt a gun press against the back of her skull, the unmistakable sound of a bullet clicking into the chamber causing her to drop her weapon and slowly raise her hands in surrender.

“Alright, you win,” she snapped. Jack signaled to Nisha, who’d managed to slip through the door behind Jack unbeknownst to Sasha. She pouted at Jack before lowering her weapon.

“So then, now that you’ve broken into my apartment, what do you want from me?” Sasha asked, eyeing Jack and Nisha suspiciously.

“We want…” Jack faltered, unsure of what to say. “We want your help.”

Sasha snorted. “With what?”

Jack remained silent, beginning to fidget. There was a piece to this puzzle Rhys had created that he couldn’t see, but he wasn’t exactly the type to ask for help.

“There’s been a kidnapping,” Nisha said finally, shrugging at Jack’s immediate glare. “What? We don’t have enough time for you to swallow your entire ego.”

Jack continued to glower, but Sasha cut in. “I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with me?”

“Listen, honey, I wish you weren’t involved, I really do,” Jack said, stepping closer to Sasha to make his height advantage clear. “But unfortunately, Rhys wanted his Pandoran trash whore involved in this little operation.”

Sasha’s hand came down across Jack’s face with a sharp crack before he could even react, grinding his mask against his always-sensitive scar. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Jack snarled, recoiling. “You think I don’t know about you and Rhys? About you putting your filthy hands all over my boyfriend?”

There was a murderous glint in Sasha’s eyes as she responded. “I always knew you were dense, but I never thought you’d be such an idiot.”

She walked closer to Jack, jabbing her finger against his chest. “If you think you can bust in here asking for my help then accuse me of messing around with my ex, then you need to get to get your head checked.”

Nisha placed her hands on Jack’s shoulders and slowly dragged him backwards before he actually started getting violent. “I’m sorry Sasha, Jackie here just gets a little… overprotective.”

Jack still looked like he wanted to strangle her, but at least he hadn’t pulled out his gun. The rational part of him (as small as it was) knew that Rhys was as good as dead if he killed her, but oh, what he wouldn’t give to wrap his fingers around her throat.

“Why don’t you go take a seat and let us gals chat,” Nisha said, herding Jack over to the armchair in the corner of the apartment. He didn’t reply, pressing his lips into a thin line. He sunk into the seat, thrumming his fingers against the armrest. His eyes were dark and unfocused, the image of Rhys’ bloodied face imprinted in his pupils as his tortured screams filled his ears.

“How can you stand that asshole?” Sasha said to Nisha as she stepped into the kitchenette. She wrinkled her nose. “How can Rhys stand him?”

Nisha shrugged, leaning against the countertop. “He’s not always that bad.” She paused, thinking. “Actually, yes he is. He’s just not this aggressive to people he doesn’t consider his enemies.”

“And what did I do to earn a spot on his hit list?” Sasha asked, filling a chipped purple mug with hot water before plopping a tea bag into it.

Nisha stared at her, her face growing serious. “He’s convinced himself that Rhys cheated on him with you.”

Sasha looked ready to interrupt and argue but Nisha quickly continued. “I know you didn’t, so no need trying to convince me. Unlike Jack, I can see past my own nose.”

Sasha chuckled at that, beginning to relax as she took a sip of her tea.

“Jackie, he just… he’s in deep. He loves that kid more than Hyperion itself, although he’d never admit it. And now that he might lose him, he’s blaming anyone he can so that he doesn’t have to take it all out on himself. Although,” she said, shooting a worried look in Jack’s direction. “I don’t think it’s working all that well.”

Sasha took another sip, considering. “So you both came all the way out here so he could use me as a punching bag?”

“God no,” came an obnoxiously cocky voice. “I’ve got an entire team of slackers in R & D I could yell at and airlock if I wanted to.”

The girls stared at Jack as he stepped into the room, his mask readjusted on his face and his features composed. “We really do need your help, pumpkin. And we’re in a bit of a time crunch.”

Jack launched into a quick rundown of the past 24 hours, impressively managing to keep his anger to a semi-normal level. “So, basically, he sent us here to find you,” he concluded.

Sasha’s face had paled, her fingers tightly clutching the mug.

“Do you know what he meant? About the vault key?” Nisha asked.

Sasha nodded, something dark and unreadable in her expression. “He wants us to create a fake. That way they’ll give us his location and we can make the trade.”

Jack gaped at her. “As much as I’d love for that to work, that son of a taint would see right through it, and none of us would be seeing a very happy ending.”

Sasha bit her lip before shaking her head. “I’ve done it before.”

Jack raised his eyebrows before letting out a low whistle. “Seriously?”

Sasha set her mug down onto the counter before walking over to the nearby closet, the other two trailing behind her. “It was one of the last cons Rhys helped me pull off before he came up to Helios, that’s how he knows it’ll work,” she explained as she began to rummage through the stacks of cardboard boxes inside.

“Hold up,” Jack said, folding his arms over his chest. “Cons?”

Sasha nodded as she found the box she was looking for, hoisting it up with a grunt and carrying it to the kitchen table. “Your boyfriend wasn’t always a goody-two-shoes programmer,” she said as she removed the box’s lid and dumped out its contents unceremoniously.

“I wouldn’t exactly say he’s a goody-two-shoes,” Jack said with a smirk, wagging his eyebrows.

Nisha socked him in the shoulder. “You’re disgusting.”

The nauseous looks on both her and Sasha’s faces caused him to laugh, the first time he’d done so in what felt like forever; at least, since the forever after he’d fought with Rhys.

“So you’ll help?” he asked.

Sasha nodded. “But I’m doing it for Rhys, not you. No offense, but you’re still an asshole.”

Jack shrugged. “None taken.”

“Then let’s get to work!” Nisha said, clapping her hands together before lifting up the lump of molding clay now laying on the table. “I’ll make the base and you do the decorating?”

“Sure,” Sasha replied, pulling out brushes, a few bottles of shiny-looking paints and a…flamethrower?

“What about him?” she asked, jerking her thumb towards Jack.

“I’m gonna call Tim Tams for a status update,” he said, sliding his ECHOcomm out from his jacket pocket. “Besides, you don’t want me messing around with all this arts and crafts shit. Rhys forced me to take a painting class with him once and I almost burned the room down.”

“Alright then,” Sasha said, readjusting her headband to keep her dreadlocks out of her face. “You can talk in my room for some privacy. Plus, I don’t need your annoying voice distracting me.”

Jack nodded, although a bit of his previous anger resurfaced as he glanced towards the bedroom. He grit his teeth to keep himself from making a snide comment, not wanting to break their still precarious truce. He fumbled to select Tim’s name from his contact list, pressing down just a bit too hard on the screen as he headed into the other room.

Sasha must’ve noticed, because she called his name, causing him to look at her over his shoulder. “I didn’t mess around with Rhys.” When Jack didn’t respond, she continued with a grin. “Besides, he always was lousy in bed.”

Jack cracked a slight smile at that. “Oh, honey, I’d beg to differ.”

He turned to slip into Sasha’s bedroom completely, closing the door behind him and leaving the two girls in the kitchen to continue with their work. He felt extremely uncomfortable, not just because he was in a stranger’s most private room, but also because a part of him still imagined Rhys tangled in the plain linen sheets. Even though Sasha had flat-out denied it, a part of Jack continued to feel ill at the image of someone other than himself seeing Rhys in such an intimate way.

“Hey Tim,” Jack said as a projection of his doppelganger’s face materialized from his phone.

Tim gave a small salute before rolling right into a status report. “Wilhelm was able to get a reading on the guy who nabbed Rhys. I’m sending you the info now.”

Jack raised his eyebrows at the file he’d just received, quickly opening it. “Hugo Vasquez, eh?”

Tim nodded. “Head of programming department.”

“He even looks like a douche,” Jack said, scowling. “Do you see that ridiculous combover?”

“I’m having Wilhelm try to get a read on his location,” Tim said, abstaining from Jack’s rude humor as usual. “He’d also looking into his computer files.”

Jack nodded, already planning out the precise way in which he’d kill him. After weeks of torturing, of course. He deserved no less after what he’d done to…

“How’s Rhys?” Jack asked, immediately feeling his heart stop at the nervous look on Tim’s face.

“Tim,” he repeated, his expression darkening. “How’s Rhys?”

“He’s, um, well,” Tim stammered, focusing most of his attention on avoiding eye contact. “You see, he’s–”

“Please!”

Tim froze at the sound, quickly turning to look over his shoulder.

“Please don’t! Please! I’ll do anything!”

Jack’s pulse quickened as he took in the sounds of Rhys’ pained cries. “Let me see him.”

Tim looked like he wanted to argue, but decided he valued his life a little too much and carried the ECHOcomm over to the arm. Wilhelm was nowhere to be seen, having determined that hunting this Vasquez character would be much easier to catch via his personal computer files rather than the crazy hacking maze he’d set up. Instead, a large projection of Rhys was the only thing Jack could see, and he immediately felt sick.

“They didn’t mean to! I swear, they didn’t mean to!” Jack watched Rhys shout. “I’ll finish the job, I’ll finish hundreds of jobs if you just stop hurting them!”

Rhys was struggling against his bonds, his single hazel eye blown wide and pupil dilated. There were tears staining his cheek, although they were barely visible amidst the dried blood.

“Who’s he talking about?” Jack hissed at Tim, his eyes still glued to Rhys’ face.

Tim shrugged, looking helpless. “I don’t know. There’s– there’s nobody in the room with him, Jack. That Vasquez guy hasn’t been here in hours.”

“M-mom!” Rhys shouted, his voice hitching as more tears fell. “No! You bitch! H-how c-c-could y-” he broke off into sobs again.

Jack stared forward, his features unmoving. “Is he asleep?” he asked finally.

Tim shook his head. “No, he’s been up for about an hour. At first he was just repeating the stuff about Sasha and the key, but now…” The confused, helpless look on his face spoke for itself. “Why do you ask?”

“He, um,” Jack said as he began to fidget with the corners of his mask. “He sometimes has these nightmares, wakes up yelling and all that jazz, and it just, well, it sounds a helluva lot like this.”

Tim seemed to think for a moment before suddenly disappearing from the corner of the screen, the sound of furious typing filling the speakers. Jack waited, raising his eyebrows.

“Y-you liar! You said if I did it you’d l-let them g-go, you promised. You pr-promised!”

Jack chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to comfort Rhys, to hold and soothe him like he did whenever Rhys woke up crying in the middle of the night. He’d never gotten any real information from Rhys about them, but he had enough of a brain to know that they had something to do with Pandora, something to do with the portion of Rhys’ life that he kept buried from everyone, even from Jack.

“I got it!” Tim said triumphantly, appearing back in front of the camera with a very familiar grin. “It’s some sort of synthetic eridium-based drug, basically a hallucinogen.”

Jack didn’t respond, the tightness in his chest worsening.

“It says here that it’s super hard to find, even on the black market,” Tim continued, reading off the database screen. “The only known mass underground producer was Atlas, and we all know what happened to them.”

Jack quickly nodded, already tuning Tim’s voice out as his hearing honed in on Rhys’ cries. I’m coming for you, babe, he thought as he felt something wet forming in his eyes (which was actually impossible, since Handsome Jack never cried; he didn’t even know if he had tear ducts). Don’t you worry.

[vitaliciouscreations]

Summer Camp AU - Percy Jackson

Authors Note at the bottom

This is maybe one of the worst deals I have ever made, Annabeth thought melodramatically, looking up at the hill that stood before her, which was absolutely swarming with bouncing, excited kids. Bobby and Matthew were already catching the atmosphere, growing more and more restless by the second, and Annabeth was genuinely worried that they would break away from her and get lost in the mini-sea of hyperactive children, never to be seen again.

Yeah, that would go over great with her dad and step-mom. She definitely wouldn't be getting that Art & Design Class paid off, that was for sure.

See, this whole issue had started with her guidance councilor telling her that her future prospects for colleges looked bright, as her grades were stellar, she wasn't lacking in extra-curriculars, and her community service record was shiny and full. The only problem was that, as Annabeth wanted to be an Architect, it would be better if she had some experience in Art & Design, and since her fine arts class credit had been filled with a semester of theater, she hadn't worried about that until she had already filled in all of her classes for senior year. This summer was her last chance, and luckily she had found this perfect Art & Design Class that was taught in a two-week segment near the end of the summer at a college only a little whiles away from where they lived. Perfect. The only downfall…

It was expensive. Like, really expensive. Annabeth could pay for it with her own money, but it would dry up most of the funds she had saved to help with college debts and stuff, and she didn't want to do that. She also didn't have anybody else to ask, as the only person besides her dad Annabeth could think of was her mother. And she was not asking her mother.

So, her Dad and Helen had pitched a deal to her. Take Bobby and Matthew to summer camp and supervise them so that they didn't end up getting into any trouble or getting sent home early like last year, and Annabeth would get back just in time to take the Art & Design Class. It overlapped with school a little but since the first week of school was always fairly easy, and since Annabeth would be in her senior year, she figured she could handle it. Just like she could handle taking care of Bobby and Matthew for one summer.

Or at least, she had thought she could handle one summer. Looking out at the absolute swarm of children buzzing up the hill to the camp's admission table, Annabeth was having second thoughts. How on earth could anybody handle this many children all at once? Annabeth could barely stand two, and most of the time Helen and her dad were the ones actually taking care of them. She was going to score a full-ride scholarship anyway, so maybe…

No. Annabeth was not going to back out on this. She was signed up as a camper anyway, so the only two kids she would have to look after were Bobby and Matthew, and even then there would be councilors around in case of an emergency. Annabeth sucked in a determined breath and grabbed Bobby and Matthew's hands, feeling each of them wiggle with excitement as she did so. Then, she began marching up the hill, though she only made it about four steps before Bobby and Matthew outstripped her and practically dragged her along with them. It was definitely and understatement to say they were excited, and Annabeth suddenly remembered how happily they'd chattered on about this place after they'd been sent home for catching a stomach bug. Sickness aside, they had absolutely loved it here.

On top of the hill, there was a long line of parents waiting with their kids, most who were squirming around about as excitedly as Bobby and Matthew were. At the beginning of the line, there was a table set up, tucked near the base of a huge pine tree, probably for shade. It was manned by two people, their faces indistinct at this distance, though above them there was a hand-painted banner that read "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood!" in big, happy letters. All of the 'O's on the sign had smiley faces painted inside of them, as did the C at the beginning of "Camp".

Some child Annabeth couldn't see let off a high-pitched shriek. She couldn't tell if they were simply excited or if somebody was brutally murdering them. It was probably the first one, Annabeth decided, though in all honestly it had sounded a bit more like the latter option to her. She wondered if this was going to be a frequent occurrence.

They got into line. By this time, Bobby and Matthew were actually jumping up and down out of excitement, and Annabeth was thinking back bitterly on the pancakes they'd had for breakfast that morning, and how much syrup they'd been drowned in. The line moved forward a step and Annabeth watched as an excited child ran down the hill towards the direction of the camp, while a parent walked down the hill in the other direction, towards the road which eventually lead back to the parking lot full of cars. Envy filled Annabeth as she watched the parent walk away, as she knew she wouldn't have the same opportunity when they got to the front of the line.

Bobby and Matthew only seemed to get more and more excited as they got closer to the front of the line, which was ridiculous because they were waiting for what seemed like forever, and with all that bouncing up and down and fidgeting they should have gotten tired eventually. Even all the sugary syrup from breakfast and the grocery store sandwiches Annabeth had gotten them for lunch shouldn't be able to fuel this much energy. Annabeth wondered how it was possible for them to be so excited for a camp they'd gotten sick at before, and had only stayed around two-thirds the duration of anyway. Surely it couldn't be that fun.

Finally, finally, they got to the front of the line. Annabeth swore they must have waited at least forty minutes, though that wasn't that surprising, considering how many people had been in line in front of them, and how many were building up behind them. Geez, this had to be a really popular camp.

A girl and a guy were manning the admission table, both looking around her age. The guy had curly reddish-brown hair which he was wearing a rasta cap over, along with the beginnings of a scraggly beard on his chin. There was a pair of silver crutches leaned up against his chair, with faint marks on them that looked like stickers had been stripped off of them recently. The girl, on the other hand, was standing up. She had a red, folded up bandana tied around her head, acting as a headband to keep her hair away from her face, and was wearing a somewhat serious expression, looking almost angry, though not too much. She was a little intimidating, Annabeth supposed, or at least to anybody else. But Annabeth had stood up to way too much to be intimidated by a girl her age just because of a little scowl.

"Names?" the girl asked, sounding a little irritated. Annabeth absolutely could not blame her, because she had already had to deal with all of the people who had been before Annabeth and her brothers, and would have to deal with all the people after. It couldn't be a fun job.

"Uhh, Bobby and Matthew, right…?" the guy spoke up before Annabeth even had the chance to say anything. He leaned forward a little in his seat. "You two are a couple of the kids who got sick last year, right? Sorry about that."

"It's alright," Bobby and Matthew chimed at the same time, before starting a little and staring at each other. They were twins, but not twins who could speak simultaneously very often, so when they did they always got these huge smiles on their faces. Like now, when twin grins bloomed up as they stared at each other.

"Alright, sign 'em in," the girl said shortly, cutting her chin at the guy, who obediently picked up a pen. She was obviously impatient with the sign up process after having been through it so many times, and still, Annabeth couldn't find it in herself to blame the girl. She was irritated too, and she only had to go through it once.

"What was your guys' last name…" the guy muttered, more to himself than to Bobby and Matthew, as he trailed his eyes down the line of clipboards on the table, each holding a single sheet of paper.

"Chase," Annabeth cut in, speaking aloud for the first time through this whole process. "And I'm Annabeth Chase. I'll be signing in as well."

The guy glanced up at her for a short moment, before nodding his head and going back to the clipboards, grabbing the first one and scribbling something on three lines near the bottom, probably the spaces Annabeth and her brothers' names occupied. "Cool. Well, what you're gonna do is go down the hill," the guy pointed with the butt of the pen. "And find the dining area. It shouldn't be too hard to find, and Bobby and Matthew can show you the way. There's a make-your-own-nametag activity going on, and you'll get a lanyard to hang it on afterwards. Take your time, because there are no other activities scheduled today until dinner, so time isn't a problem. And the councilors down there can help you with anything you need."

The girl seemed to be getting impatient, so Annabeth just nodded. "Thank you," she told the guy quickly, before tugging Bobby and Matthew gently out of line and letting them all but drag her to the dining area. They were wearing huge grins as they ran down the hill and tugged at her arms, glancing up at her and bouncing around.

"That was Grover," Matthew explained as they reached the bottom of the hill and headed for the dining area. Or where Annabeth assumed was the dining area. "He's got this thing with his legs where he has trouble walking, but he's still super-duper fun. And last year when we were playing volleyball, he totally won the game for us by spiking a ball over the net with his crutches. The other team said it was cheating but it was so not."

"And the girl was Clarisse," Bobby added on. "She's kinda mean and stuff, but her cabin always wins at capture the flag and hide and seek and stuff. She's super competitive, but she knows how to fight really well and she even beat up a bear once!"

Annabeth blinked at that, and looked down at her brothers, who had turned away now and we're tugging her along again. After a moment of deliberation, she decided that the bear thing must be an overinflated rumor they must have heard. The girl had certainly looked tough and capable, but Annabeth sort of doubted she was capable of "beating up a bear". She'd probably encountered one in the woods and the story had grown from there. Or perhaps something even less exciting.

They arrived at the dining area in a lot less time than it had taken for them to arrive at the admissions booth, and it was packed. Kids everywhere. Annabeth would have balked in fear except they all seemed to behaving rather well. Sure they were talking, maybe at a pretty loud volume, and were messing around with markers and crayons and stuff, but none of them seemed to be going crazy. Nothing was being thrown, at least, and only a handful of the kids were scribbling on their arms.

Bobby and Matthew ran over to a table at the beginning of the dining area, seemingly set aways apart from all the others. Two boys were manning it, who looked awfully similar to each other, both with scruffy brown hair and alike faces, almost as if they were twins, except one of them was a bit shorter than the other, and had features to indicate he was a bit younger. Brothers, more than likely. They seemed to be flicking rubber bands at each other from across the table, which crushed Annabeth's earlier statement about nothing being thrown.

"Hey!" Bobby yelled over the clamor in the dining area. One of the boys from the special table looked down, and grinned, as Annabeth walked over to stand behind her brothers.

"'Sup," he greeted, smiling mischievously in a way that made Annabeth want to slap his wrist before he even did anything. He grabbed some plastic card sleeves off of the table while his brother picked up a handful of different colored lanyards. "So, what year are you guys?"

"Second!" Bobby and Matthew chorused together, making them grin as they spoke in unison again. Matthew motioned with his head behind to Annabeth. "This is our sister, she's here on her first year. That means she gets green, right?"

"Right-o!" the other brother said, leaning across the table to hand a bright green lanyard to Annabeth. "And you guys are blue," he continued, picking out two light blue lanyards and handing them over to Bobby and Matthew. Annabeth stared at both her lanyard and her brothers' a little skeptically, as the color was a bit odd for regular lanyards, being strangely lightly-colored.

"What's with the coloring?" Annabeth decided to ask.

"It's so that we can identify what your experience with Camp Half-Blood is, basically," the first brother answered, misinterpreting her question. "Also so that you can tell who the camp councilors and leaders are, since they wear white lanyards." He hooked a thumb around his own lanyard, which was indeed white, to show her. "We separate the years because we have different surprises and activities for each year, and because it's easier to identify first years so that we can tell if they're getting lost or need help or something, though with you," he glanced her up and down quickly, "well, I doubt you'll need too much help. The older kids rarely do."

"That's not what I meant," Annabeth told him, though the information was helpful. "I meant why are the colors so… light? There's something off about them. What's different?" Even the white of the councilor boys' lanyards looked just a little off.

"Oh," the other one said. "They glow in the dark. The woods get pitch black at night so they're useful just in case anybody gets lost. We have a curfew, but a lot of kids wander off at night anyway, which…" he shrugged casually, as if to say something like 'it happens'. "Great eye, though," he added on, the side of his mouth quirking up a little mischievously.

"Thanks," Annabeth said absentmindedly, examining her lanyard with new fervor. Glow-in-the-dark lanyards, huh? It certainly was interesting. She wondered how expensive they were, though with all the traffic this camp seemed to have the price might not be much of a problem. Glow-in-the-dark seemed a little tacky for any architecture project, but perhaps Annabeth could think of some way to implement it classily. It would be an interesting challenge, at the very least.

"She's got that look again," Bobby said to Matthew, and they both grabbed her hands and tugged her along, tugging her out of her thoughts as well. The first boy barely managed to call them back to collect their plastic card sleeves.

Bobby and Matthew lead her over to a table which was only partially seated with kids, and Annabeth noted that the entire surface was covered with markers, colored pencils, crayons, and pens, as well as all sorts of types of paper, sequins, glitter, and glue. Annabeth was certain her brothers were going to make an absolute mess of this, and she was not looking forward to reigning them in.

Matthew and Bobby briefly filled her in on the fact that they were making name tags, before lunging at the arts and craft supplies with eager eyes and grabby hands. Annabeth surveyed the table with a more critical eye, thinking on her name tag's design before she even dared to get started. She had always been like that, ever since she was little. Apparently it was a thing she had inherited from her mother, though she knew so little about the woman that she couldn't vouch for that fact herself. According to her dad, they were both harshly analytical, though Annabeth was a tad warmer than her absent mother. Annabeth would never admit to it, but hearing that made her feel the strangest sense of pride in herself.

This, Annabeth decided after a moment of surveying the table, was a chance to gauge how much advancement she'd have to make during the Art & Design course to be satisfied with her performance. Architecture required a certain amount of skill with design, and though a name tag may not seem like a very big deal, designing it might help Annabeth see just how bad or good she was at design naturally and how much she would have to improve.

She started with a plain white piece of card stock. All the pieces of card stock were already cut down to proper size, but there was an additional small stack of colored printer paper on the table, along with a couple pairs of safety scissors. Annabeth thought for a moment before grabbing the piece of white card stock by the corner and carefully folding it, first forwards, just the corner, and then backwards, and then forwards, and then backwards… etc., each fold taking up about the same space width-wise. When she finished she had a sort of paper accordion shape, which she stretched out again, just enough to keep it from bunching up too much but not enough to flatten it.

She reached for the colored paper next. Since she'd folded it from the bottom left corner to the top right, the creases in the card stock went diagonally, which was what she had been going for. It kept her design from looking too plain, or at least she hoped.

First, she grabbed a black marker. Using it, she colored all of the left sides of the folds, so that looking at it from one way made it look like it was on an all-black background, while looking at it from the opposite way made it look like it was on an all-white background. Anywhere in-between you could see the alternating white and black, but again that was Annabeth's goal.

Secondly, she began tracing the letters of her name out on a regular sheet of paper. She felt she had to practice first because her name was rather long, and the card space was rather small, and she had to make sure it was readable without it being too big or too small, or some of the letters being abnormally larger than others. She also had to make sure that when she folded up the letters the same way she had the card stock, they neither looked oddly misshapen, nor were too small.

She got it right after a few tries, and moved on to the colored paper. Rainbow, she decided, while a little gaudy, would be a good bet for a camp name tag. It probably wouldn't be too flashy, and, she thought with a hidden smile, Bobby and Matthew would like it. She'd been temped to just use gray paper, as in architecture simplicity was key, and also gray was her favorite color (or shade, if they were speaking in technicalities) but with a moment of hesitation she passed it over, deciding that simplicity may not be key in this specific instance. Besides, against the black and white it may not stand out very well, and this was a name tag after all.

So rainbow it was. Any one color didn't seem correct to Annabeth, as the black and white background nicely contrasted and she would mess up the balance with one single color, unless she did it with a lighter shade of green, but she wasn't sure she wanted to use her lanyard color, or rather, a few shades off from her lanyard color, which was even worse.

The biggest problem after that was that the rainbow had six (or seven, including indigo) colors, and her name had eight letters. She thought about it and decided to include pink, and also indigo, but then the issue was where to put the pink, as setting it in between red and orange seemed just a little wrong. After a small internal debate, she decided to put pink before red, meaning that the first 'A' of her name would be pink, and continuing on. She also decided to use the darker, more intense shade of hot-ish pink rather than the light, ballet pink, to better blend in with the red right after.

Folding up the letters was a little tedious, and she had to make sure she matched the folds of the card stock exactly, which was a challenge, but after the second 'A' she had to trash she seemed to get the hang of it. For a moment she wondered if she should add glitter or anything else Bobby and Matthew seemed to be enjoying a little too much, but she decided that this was the point where the "simplicity is key" lesson came in. She already had rainbow letters, that should be about enough.

Plus, the slight three-dimensional aspect, which Annabeth was hoping would survive the plastic sleeve, at least for a few days. She had worked way too hard on it for it to go to waste.

She had to apply the glue to the back of the letters in the most careful way possible, as to not mess up the crisp folds she'd made to match the folds of the card stock. She used the butt end of a colored pencil to again carefully press the letters down into the card stock, as to not mess up anything, and it took a painfully long time but Annabeth desperately didn't want to mess up the folds. She'd worked really hard on this so far and she swore, if she screwed this up—

There! Done. Annabeth dropped the colored pencil off to the side and raised her hands up to either side of her, looking down at her masterpiece. It looked fine to her, but then again she was the one who had created it, so her frame of judgement may be skewed. The corner of the second 'n' was looking a little dull, and the folding with the 'b'— Ahh yes, there was Annabeth's perfectionism, acting up again. She looked to either side of her at Bobby and Matthew, both who were in the last legs of creating their glittery, sticky, sequin-y, and very colorful name tags, which were barely legible through the arts and crafts mess. Not that that really surprised her too much.

As she glanced at her half brothers she decided to let them be her judges, and cleared her throat softly, scooping up her name tag carefully and holding it out by the edges in front of her, so they both could easily see it. "Bobby? Matthew? What do you guys think of my name tag?"

Bobby and Matthew both looked up from wreaking glittery destruction and their eyes went wide as they spotted Annabeth's name tag. Bobby put his hands down on the table as if to squirm towards it, while Matthew just leaned forward a little more, but they were both wearing looks of such awe that Annabeth's stomach swirled with pride and accomplishment.

"Whoa!" Bobby exclaimed, perhaps a little louder than he should have. "That's so awesome! How'd you do that, Annabeth?"

"Yeah!" Matthew agreed enthusiastically from the other side, as a proud smile bloomed across Annabeth's face. "It's amazing! Can you help me with mine!"

Bobby grabbed her arm, smearing glitter across the area above her elbow, though Annabeth found she didn't actually mind that much. "Me too! C'mon, please!"

Annabeth's smile was almost splitting her face at this point, it was so broad. "Alright," she conceded, though it wasn't like she was regretful. Quite the opposite, in fact. She carefully set her name tag aside, in a place where it would neither be squished nor covered with glitter, and positioned herself so that she could help with both her brothers' name tags at once, as they had already begun vying for her attention. The name tags were glittery, scribbly, colorful messes, but they were fun messes, and Annabeth at least managed to smooth out the edges a little bit, and make sure that they were clearly legible in a way that both Bobby and Matthew still thought was cool. Cursive, they thought, was absolutely astonishing.

By the time she finished with their name tags the day was running out. They'd arrived at around four, give or take a little, spent a long time in line, and then walked down to the dining area. Then they'd spent a while making name tags, and Annabeth would theorize that it was around six-ish when they finally finished and laid out the little masterpieces in front of themselves, all of them feeling the slightest bit of satisfaction in their accomplishments. By then there were councilors walking around, including the two brothers they'd spoken to earlier, complimenting and giving constructive criticism to various campers over their name tags. One of the more common comments Annabeth heard was about the legibility, or more accurately, the lack thereof, of the name tag, prompting the creator to make their name a little easier to read.

The councilor on the table left of theirs finished up, softly patting a small girl on the shoulder and saying something that left her beaming. Instead of moving over to their table though, she moved to one ahead. Another councilor was coming around their right, but was at least two tables away, so Annabeth disregarded him.

"Hi!" a cheery voice said from off to Annabeth's left. Annabeth turned her head quickly, eyes narrowing, but was only met with the sight of a teenage girl.

Said girl had curly red hair, some of it being pinned back semi-successfully from her face with bobby pins. She had ruby glitter glue smeared across the left part of her forehead, along with traces of glue and blue marker on her right cheek. There were several types of glitter clinging to her hair, and her orange shirt was smeared with paint even though Annabeth was sure there hadn't been paint of any kind involved in the name tags. She was also wearing a pink lanyard, not white.

"I'm Rachel," she introduced, smiling brightly. "I'm here to check your name tags."

"You're not a counselor," Annabeth said. She tried to put the inflection of a question at the end of that statement, but it didn't really work and came out sounding like an accusation.

"Uh?" Rachel said, and glanced down when Annabeth indicated her lanyard. "Ah, no, I'm not. Technically speaking, I'm just a camper, but I kinda qualify as a junior councilor," she made a wiggly hand motion. "My dad won't let me officially become a councilor because he's kind of a jerk, but around here the councilors kind of regard me as one of their own. So I'm basically a councilor except I can take classes instead of teaching them, and I don't get paid anything." She shrugged, before smiling at Annabeth. "It's okay for me to check your name tag though, promise!"

By now Bobby and Matthew had already shoved their name tags towards her, and it was obvious they held at least some degree of recognition towards her. The girl—Rachel—seemed to do as the other councilors did, checking over their name tags carefully and dishing out praise like a pro, with some sneaky constructive criticism in the middle. One thing she praised in particular was the legibility of their name tags, which they both gladly gave credit to Annabeth for, in turn gleaning a small smile from her.

Rachel checked over the rest of the table's name tags quickly, praising and softly criticizing in turn. From the tone of her voice, along with many of her statements and admittedly a little bit due to her messy appearance, Annabeth was fairly certain she was an artist of some sort. Not positive, but fairly certain.

Finally, she turned to Annabeth, and in response Annabeth carefully picked up her name tag and showed it to her, forcefully ignoring the tiny bubble of anxiety that seemed to have formed in her stomach. Was she really so desperate for praise? It was just some stupid camp name tag.

"Whoa!" Rachel exclaimed loudly, leaning over the table a little as if to get a closer look. "That's awesome! Seriously, you did that all yourself?"

Annabeth nodded calmly, trying to fight off the broad, proud smile that was trying to struggle its way onto her face. It was kind of a losing battle.

"That's so cool," Rachel told her, sage green eyes practically glowing with sincerity. "Like, really. This might be the coolest name tag I've seen all day, and I've seen mine," she joked. She then perked up and snapped her fingers, pointing at Annabeth right after. "You know what, this is totally summer collage worthy! Only if you agree though."

"What?" Annabeth asked.

"Ah," Rachel waved her hand vaguely. "It's this thing Camp Half Blood does, dating all the way back to the year it first started." Rachel giggled at her little joke. "Basically we hang this huge cork board," she held her arms out all the way to try and indicate the size, "-out on the side of the Big House, and all summer we take like Polaroid pics of cool, fun or interesting stuff—like your name tag," Rachel inflected. "And then we pin them up on the cork board and at the end of the summer we take a really good quality pic of the whole thing and put it in this scrapbook we have in the Big House. We also use it to like reminisce about the past summer and stuff." Rachel waved her hand again. "It's basically just a bunch of pictures of cool stuff up on a board, and your name tag definitely counts as cool. But if you don't wanna, then that's fine. It's just a thought. So?"

"Uhm," said Annabeth. "I—sure, I guess."

Rachel beamed. "That's awesome." She then gestured over her shoulder a little, though at what Annabeth couldn't tell. "I don't actually have the camera right now, it's back at the Big House, but I will talk to Chiron and come back in like an hour? Dinner will be starting then probably, or at least I think," she glanced down at a watch on her wrist, which was mostly black except for a couple of paint splotches. "Yeah, it's 6:17 now and dinner will happen at seven-fifteen. It normally takes place at eight but Sundays scheduled differently." Rachel waved her hand and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Basically, you've got like fifty-eight minutes of free time, and then dinner will start, and then I will come around with the camera and interrupt your eating probably. Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," Annabeth agreed, shrugging. "Sure."

"What's for dinner?" Bobby asked from beside her.

Rachel shrugged, her mouth curling into an easy smile. "Ah, a whole bunch of things. Burgers, hotdogs, bratwurst. There's also salad if you're a vegetarian with something against tofu or whatever." Rachel leaned in a little and put her hand over her mouth conspiratorially. "A tip, if you see Clarisse or the Stolls," she pointed to the two brown-haired brothers as she said this, "on the grill, and you're a vegetarian, it's probably better to just wait until you see them switch with a different councilor. None of them can cook tofu for anything, and the Stolls aren't really best with the regular meat options either. Also, if you're going for a salmon burger and you see Katie," she gestured over to a councilor girl with long brown hair tied back in a French braid, "just don't. Don't. Go for tofu or regular instead. It's not worth it."

Annabeth nodded. "Thanks," she said shortly.

Rachel winked, backing off to a normal distance again. "No problem. It's just that Katie seems to be under the impression that fish is only good when it's charred beyond all recognition, and I don't want anybody to suffer through that. She probably won't be cooking anyway, but I thought I'd give fair warning." She shrugged, and then tilted her head to the side.

"Actually, Percy," she looked around, but didn't seem to find whoever she was looking for to point out to Annabeth, "-is the best with cooking fish, but most of the time he's either too busy or too tired to cook, so you'll be lucky if you can snag one of his." She looked back to Annabeth and gave a little wave. "Nice meeting you," she said, before moving around to another table.

Annabeth went back to Bobby and Matthew, who were now trying to thumb wrestle each other on the table in front of her. Both of them were sort of bad at it, but Annabeth didn't comment. She carefully moved her name tag a little closer to her, just to be safe, and then leaned her elbow onto the table and cupped her face, drifting off into her thoughts. Fifty-some minutes of free time now, and Annabeth had absolutely nothing to do. Their luggage had gone into a sort of heap with everyone else's at Bobby and Matthew's insistence, and Annabeth doubted that she'd be able to dig her bag out of the pile and grab a book even if she wanted to or knew where to go.

So she had nothing to do. Annabeth realized that was a false statement before she was even finished thinking it. The arts and crafts supplies were still spread all across the table, and from Rachel's statement they, or some other unlucky person, would be eating off of this table soon. And unless Annabeth wanted to be eating equal parts dinner and glitter, she would probably have to make an attempt to clean some of the mess up.

So she stood up from her seat and surveyed the table. It was an absolute nightmare of a mess, glue bottles strew about and paper scraps all around. Glitter and sequins coated the table like the world's worst and shiniest wax job. There were also a bunch of uncapped markers all around, and colored pencils lay around like pick-up-sticks.

Well, Annabeth was so pleased she'd decided to take this job on.

She started with the markers, finding matching caps for the ones she could and just putting some random loose caps on ones she couldn't. She figured she could sort it out later when the table was a little cleaner. She stacked them off to the side behind an empty marker box, so that they wouldn't roll down the table, and one of the other girls at the table caught on and she and her friend started uncapping and recapping the markers correctly, before beginning to place them in boxes. Annabeth muttered out a quick thank you and glanced back at her name tag, making sure it was still untouched.

The colored pencils went the same way, the first girl's friend moving from markers to colored pencils as soon as she saw Annabeth going for those. Another guy at the end of the table was picking up glue bottles and sticks and capping those, trying to leave as little of a sticky puddle as possible, though sometimes it seemed inevitable. Annabeth grabbed a piece of card stock and scraped up a small glue trail with the edge of it, making sure the guy was watching, before setting it off to the side and passing the guy a handful of the cards. It still left some glue behind, but it was better than big puddles.

Annabeth had just started surveying the huge mess of glitter, paper scraps, and sequins when a counselor guy, one of the brothers from earlier again, came around with a trash can, a dustpan, a hand broom, a rag, and a bottle of what Annabeth assumed was cleaning spray. He brightened a little when he saw their table, and set the trash can down so he could better hold the other four items. "Oh, you guys have already started! Cool, well, I will leave this stuff here," he set the other four items at the edge of their table, near the glue guy who was now being helped by two other kids in his endeavors. Then the counselor guy pointed over to another table, which looked about four times worse then theirs had even when Annabeth had started, "-And go help them, and if you need anything just grab me."

He strode off to the other table, and the glue guy almost immediately passed the dustpan and broom to Annabeth, leaving the cloth and cleaning spray alone for the moment. At some point while Annabeth wasn't paying attention, Bobby and Matthew had begun passing stray colored pencils over the the girl collecting them but now had stopped and were looking up at Annabeth. She gave Matthew the dustpan and Bobby the hand broom and they got happily to work while Annabeth moved her name tag to a safer spot again and then began brushing the glitter and stuff into little piles with a piece of paper and her hands, making it easier for Bobby and Matthew to not make a mess of things. Part of Annabeth wanted to snatch the broom and dustpan back from them, but she also didn't want to offend Bobby and Matthew, so she just let them go at it, and re-piled all of the glitter and sequins they missed so that they could come back to it.

Thankfully, Bobby and Matthew seemed to get kind of tired of the broom and dustpan after a while and gladly went over to help sort colored pencils and markers while relinquishing the dustpan and hand broom. Annabeth did her best not to let her relief show as she quickly went around the table, sweeping all of the piles and trails Bobby and Matthew had missed or left behind them. Glue guy sent her a quick amused glance before "helping" one of he younger children assisting him, basically taking over the job entirely but putting his hands on top of her hands as to not seem like that's what he was doing.

While Annabeth was still busy sweeping the table up, Glue Guy finished with the glue puddles and tossed a sticky stack of card stock into the trash. He then picked up the cleaning spray and rag and started on the glue residue which he hadn't been able to scrape up, avoiding spraying the areas where Annabeth hadn't reached yet. This was more impressive then in sounded because he also had a young girl, like seven or something, dangling off his arm the entire time.

Eventually Annabeth did all the good she could do with the broom and dustpan, and dumped the last load into the trash can before looking around. The counselor brother that had visited their table was still at the table he had pointed at, which was definitely cleaner but still struggling. Annabeth picked up the garbage can, along with the hand broom and dustpan, and strode over, setting the garbage can down with a loud thunk. When the councilor brother turned around—Travis, said his name tag—Annabeth offered the broom and dustpan out to him wordlessly, which he took with a smile so grateful it bordered on hysteric. Annabeth felt bad for him.

It sort of looked like Glue Guy had their table handled, aside from the little girl dangling off of him, so Annabeth walked around the side of the messier table and grabbed a couple pieces of stray card stock, using the same trick from earlier to scoop up glue puddles and make the clean up easier. The councilor brother said something about her not having to do that, but Annabeth ignored him. Her mild ADHD would drive her crazy if she just had to sit still at her table until dinner was ready, and at least this way she felt helpful.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a large grill being set up by a couple of councilors, along with a fold-out table that was quickly laden with hot dog and hamburger buns, and she meant a lot of buns. Another guy with green eyes so vivid in color that Annabeth could see them from here came jogging up lugging a garden hose under one arm, and the biggest bottle of liquid soap Annabeth had ever seen under the other. He set both down near the feet of another councilor, who Annabeth quickly recognized as the guy from the sign up table with the crutches, and then started trying to affix some sort of nozzle to the end of the gardening hose.

Counselor brother—Travis—briefly set the dustpan and hand broom down and held his hands out, clearly indicating for Annabeth to hand him the pieces of card stock that were covered in glue. She did, and he dumped those, along with the contents of the full dustpan, into the trash can behind him. Annabeth received a thumbs up from him as she went back to her glue scooping.

The smell of cooking meat started filling the air. Annabeth briefly glanced over her shoulder and saw the other counselor brother on the grill. She tried to recall Rachel's warning about them, whether it was salmon or vegetarian burgers she had to avoid, but couldn't recall exactly. Though Annabeth hadn't been planning on going for either anyway, so she supposed it didn't really matter.

With everybody at the table plus her and counselor brother #1 working together, the table cleaned up fast enough. It seemed like most of the other tables were pretty clean too, with the exception of a few, so Annabeth headed off to the next one with Travis quickly behind.

He glanced down at her lanyard, but then back up at her when he saw she didn't have a name tag on. By then Annabeth had started sweeping the table they'd reached though, so he moved in to help.

"Where's your name tag, helpful girl?" he asked as he set the trash can down.

Annabeth waved back in the direction of her table, hoping nothing had happened to it in her absence. She'd put in a lot of effort so she figured she was justified in being worried for it. "Back over there. I'll put it on later. My name is Annabeth."

"Well, thanks a lot, Annabeth," he said. "You're being really helpful."

Annabeth shrugged and dumped the dustpan into the trash can near his feet. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

After they finished with that table it seemed most of the tables were good, or at least good enough, so Annabeth left the dustpan and hand broom with Travis and went back over to her table. Matthew handed her back her name tag as soon as she came over, saying he had picked it up to make sure it didn't get sprayed. Annabeth thanked them and sat down, quietly appreciating the newfound cleanliness of their table.

"Hey!" a friendly voice said from behind her just as she sat down, and she turned her head to see Rachel. The red-haired girl held up a vintage-looking camera and smiled at Annabeth. "Got it."

Annabeth held out her name tag, cupping it in her hands gently, and Rachel's soft smile turned into a grin. "Awesome idea," she murmured, backing up a little. "This'll make for a great shot." Annabeth didn't really know what she was talking about. Rachel put her eye up to the camera and tried a few angles around Annabeth's hand before evidently finding one she liked. A quick flash went off and then a moment later the camera buzzed as a picture printed out of it. Rachel quickly switched the camera to her left hand and withdrew the picture, shaking it back and forth a few times before looking at it. Her smile widened and then she held it out for Annabeth to look.

It certainly looked like her name tag. In addition, Annabeth now understood what Rachel had meant when she said, 'makes for a good shot', because the background of Annabeth's fingers looked really cool against the name tag. Annabeth decided not to tell Rachel that it hadn't been intentional.

Rachel had caught it at such an angle that the black background stood out more than the white, though the letters were still clear spelling out her name. The diagonal slant of the folds seemed like a much better idea now then it did even when she was folding it because from the angle Rachel had snapped the photo they looked really artistic.

"You're a good photographer," Annabeth said, handing the photo back.

Rachel beamed at her brightly. "Thanks! You're a good name-tag maker." She giggled a little after that statement, and then held the photograph up, along with the camera. "I'm gonna go drop these off with Chiron. Another little tip I should give you is that it's a good idea to get into line for the hose now, because the warmer water only lasts for about twenty people before it feels like you're washing your hands with ice water. The bathrooms are pretty good about having a lot of hot water, but the hose always feels like it's pumping straight from the Arctic, so," she jerked her head towards where the guy with the garden hose was standing, currently talking to the crippled guy from the admissions both. Then she ran off again.

Annabeth got up, along with Bobby and Matthew, though she felt a little unsure. Nobody else was in line for the hose so she wasn't really sure if Rachel had meant immediately so she tried to subtly tow her little brothers along with her to get near to the guys, but far enough away that she could play it off.

It didn't seem like that was necessary though, thankfully. The guy from the admissions booth noticed her approach, and nudged the guy with the hose, who immediately looked over and gave her a small smile while hefting the garden hose. "Wash your hands?" he asked, green eyes catching hers for a moment.

"Yeah," Annabeth replied, and the guy jerked his head down, black hair tousling gently, to indicate the gigantic bottle of soap at his feet. Annabeth leaned down and squirted a little into her palms, rubbing it over the backs of her hands before the guy suddenly turned on the water.

He jerked the nozzle down quickly so none of the water sprayed her, and then twisted something on it so the water started coming out in a more gentle stream. He leaned the nozzle towards her again and Annabeth wet her hands, before briefly instructing Bobby and Matthew to do the same as she had while rubbing the soap around a little and then rinsing off. Rachel had been right, the water was warm. She would have to thank the girl next time she saw her.

"Wash your hands!" the green-eyed guy yelled as he sprayed Bobby and Matthew's hands. Almost immediately several people lurched up from the nearest table, and a line quickly formed. Apparently Rachel wasn't the only one who knew about that warm water thing, as several teenagers behind Annabeth crowded in to soap their hands and shoved each other around. Annabeth pulled Bobby and Matthew away from the crowd as soon as possible, and then shook her hands out to air dry them. Bobby and Matthew followed her example.

Bobby and Matthew then dashed ahead of her to the two fold-up tables set out and grabbed paper plates and plastic cups from the first table. It was Annabeth's turn to follow their example so she did the same. There were a dozen or so two-liter bottles of various types of beverages, stuff like soda, water, and lemonade set up on the first table. Bobby and Matthew were struggling to pour a bottle of Coke into their cups so Annabeth took it away from them and helped. She made herself a little note to self to not let them drink soda every night, and especially not stuff with caffeine. That was a recipe for disaster right there.

Bobby and Matthew both got hamburgers. Annabeth, unable to remember Rachel's exact advice on the counselor brothers' cooking, decided to play it safe and went with a hot dog. Then she herded Bobby and Matthew back to the original table, now thankfully free of the previous artful mess, and sat down to eat.

Dinner passed pretty quickly. Annabeth was actually surprised by how hungry she was once she started eating and the hotdog didn't really fill her up, but it seemed like the councilors at the grill were far too busy for her to go up at try to steal seconds. Also, Bobby and Matthew's energy had rocketed to sky high levels once they'd eaten and Annabeth was sort of afraid of what would happen if she left them alone and unsupervised, even for only a minute or two.

She started playing rock-paper-scissors with them, if just to keep them occupied. Bobby had this tendency to pull out rock about two-thirds of the time, while Matthew varied wildly between paper and scissors but never rock, so playing them both meant she couldn't always win. She still managed to get the most wins in though, a feat for which she was proud. It got even easier when some of the other people at their table joined in, though seven-way Rock Paper Scissors was a bit of a challenge to rate.

Finally, she heard a loud whistle from the right of her, and turned in her seat—along with everyone else in the dining hall—to face the direction the whistle had come from. There at the front of the dining hall a dozen or so teenagers were gathered, all wearing white lanyards around their necks. They were standing in a semi-circle around a table set slightly off from the rest, at which two grown men were seated.

The first of the men, sitting on the left side of the table, had a kind-looking face and was staring out at the crowd, one of his hands placed on the handle of an empty wheelchair. From the way his legs were positioned, and how close the wheelchair seemed to be, Annabeth could only assume it belonged to him.

The second man, sitting on the opposite side of the table, hardly looked like he was paying attention. He had short, curly black hair and was wearing a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt over what had to be the worst beer-belly Annabeth had ever seen. Admittedly Annabeth hadn't seen many beer bellies in her life, but still.

The man on the left cleared his throat, and smiled out at the crowd warmly. "Campers!" he called out, voice ringing across the dining hall. "New and old, I welcome you all to Camp Half-Blood, and hope you will all enjoy your summer with us!"

Just the way he spoke seemed to evoke a sort of comfortable feeling in Annabeth. Her first instinct was to jerk away from it, which probably spoke lengths about her personality, but instead she just took a deep breath and relaxed. Those times were long gone. Bobby and Matthew were right next to her. There was nothing bad going on.

God, she was just a little bit messed up, wasn't she?

"As many of you know, the next thing that comes up is signing up for this coming week's classes," the man went on. Annabeth was guessing he was the 'Chiron' Rachel had mentioned, as the man in the Hawaiian shirt still hadn't looked up at the crowd of campers even once, and Rachel had spoken of Chiron in a rather fond tone.

"For you new campers, I will lay out the basics. Mondays through Fridays are normal days, with four classes each day, though you may take an optional free period during one of those classes. Saturdays are community days, in which campers either go out into the city to do charity work, or pick up here at camp. Sundays are camp days, in which the entire camp participates in various activities together. Sundays are also open to visitation from parents, so for those of you who can, be sure to inform them. Officially the camp runs for thirteen terms, each term encompassing an entire week. At the end of each term campers may sign out of camp, in which case it is likely that a few new campers will sign in."

The man cleared his throat and then gestured behind him at the group of older kids. "Behind me are the councilors. You can identify them by their white lanyards, as well as myself and Mr. D. I am Chiron Brunner, the camp's activity director, while this," he indicated the man in the Hawaiian shirt. "Is Mr. D. He is the camp's supervisor. If you ever get lost or need help, you can ask anyone with a white lanyard and they'll do their best to assist you. Also, should an emergency arise, please follow your counselor's direction."

He clapped his hands together and smiled out at the crowd warmly. "Now, with that out of the way, we can get to signing up for classes. As I mentioned, each weekday has four classes a day, which means you may sign up for up to four classes each week. If you wish, you can take a free period one of those class times, in which case you should write you name down on the free time clipboard, under the correct time slot. Please take care to follow the age restrictions, as some classes are not fit for younger children, and please remember that signing up for classes is not a competition. There is plenty of room in each class, and there are often multiple classes of each type per day. Please do not push or shove the other campers while signing up for classes. And, above all, remember to have fun!"

Annabeth had no idea where they were supposed to sign up for classes, but thankfully Bobby and Matthew did. They rushed forward as soon as it was obvious the man was done talking, and made it past the front row of tables between the normal tables and the table set off from the rest. At the edge of each table were a couple clipboards, each with an activity scrawled across the top.

A few of them caught her eye as she browsed over them, sticking out to her if only for their strangeness. Etiquette didn't really sound like a normal summer camp activity, but it had a decent amount of sign ups so she supposed it was possible. Annabeth thought she might sign up for rock climbing, but passed it up at the last second in favor of hiking. Though when she saw the self-defense clipboard, she lunged for it right away.

In the end she ended up signing up for Self-Defense, First Aid, Arts& Crafts, and Hiking. She felt that they were all fairly practical choices, as Arts & Crafts might help her in Art & Design later, First Aid was a useful skill all around, Self-Defense was both something she was already experienced in and something she wanted to be more experienced in, and Hiking would keep her active.

She didn't know what classes Bobby and Matthew had signed up for, though she had spotted both of their names on Arts & Crafts when she'd signed herself up. She kind of hoped they'd end up in the same class actually, and that almost surprised her.

After it seemed like everybody was finished signing up, a few of the councilors went around and picked all of the clipboards up, jostling and joking around with each other playfully. They headed out of the dining hall, in the same direction Rachel had gone when she'd left, while another helped Chiron into his wheelchair.

"Alright!" Chiron exclaimed once safely in his wheelchair. "Now it's time for the campfire!"

Almost all of the campers around Annabeth erupted into cheers; it was almost deafening. Even Bobby and Matthew were screaming, before the crowd surged forward and Annabeth was dragged along. She barely managed to keep an eye on her two little brothers as they were all swept up.

The campfire site was large. There was a huge stone pit, and by that Annabeth really meant huge, inside a circle of bleacher-like benches, which had a few levels to them so that the large number of campers could fit better. It was still a tight squeeze, and a lot of people ended up sitting on the ground, including Annabeth. She pulled Bobby and Matthew down next to her, because there was no way they were going to find a spot to sit on the bleachers.

They seemed really, really excited, and Annabeth was actually kind of confused until the group of councilors returned, whooping and hollering and holding jumbo packs of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows over their heads. They tossed the bags and boxes around and campers began ripping into them, while a different councilor started passing metal rods around, though thankfully only to the older kids like fourteen and up or something. Bobby and Matthew waved their hands around until Annabeth got one as well, and then immediately began requesting she roast their marshmallows for them.

How could Annabeth say no to that?

The campfire took a little to catch, with some lighthearted arguing among the campers about who got the poker. Eventually, though, it really ignited, and fire filled the pit. Annabeth finally got a hold of some marshmallows, though she put all three marshmallows she was roasting on her rod at once, because she had a feeling that if she left one or two with Bobby and Matthew to wait, they would be gone when she turned back around.

She walked around a little, eyeing the campfire until she found a place with fairly exposed embers and knelt down, placing her marshmallows close. A lot of other people were roasting their marshmallows just by flame, and completely relatedly a lot of other people were also accidentally setting fire to their marshmallows. Annabeth knew that the embers were actually the easiest way to do it, as there was far less fire risk, and because the embers were actually hotter then the normal flames.

The heat of the fire was a little uncomfortable, but Annabeth managed to bear it until she was content with the state of her marshmallows. She withdrew her rod, having a near miss with a slightly shifting log, and went back to Bobby and Matthew, grateful for the distance from the hot fire. Bobby and Matthew heaped compliments upon her when they saw that she had roasted their marshmallows to perfection. Or more accurately, that she had managed to roast the marshmallows at all without them going up in flames.

Bobby and Matthew had gotten the graham crackers fairly easily, but Annabeth actually had to go wandering around a little to find the chocolate. She carried the marshmallows with her and while she was on her hunt, a couple people stopped her to ask how exactly she'd roasted her marshmallows like that. Annabeth had no reservations about explaining the ember trick, though she did her best to explain it quickly because she didn't want to leave Bobby and Matthew alone for too long. She got a lot of thank you's for the explanation, some of them a little more physical than she would have liked, but eventually she finally managed to get a hold of a bar of chocolate.

She passed the remaining fourth of the chocolate bar off to the first person who asked—apparently she wasn't the only one lacking in chocolate—and then helped Bobby and Matthew with their s'more building. It was a little hard to get the marshmallows off of the rod, as they had sort of melted together a little bit, but in the end they each ended up with their own individual s'more. In actuality Annabeth had never had the opportunity to eat a s'more before, so she was kind of surprised how good it actually managed to taste, considering how simple the individual ingredients were. She didn't say anything about it out loud though because she was sure saying anything about it would be weird.

People kept coming over to her, pointed her way by others, asking how to roast their marshmallow correctly. It was actually a little ridiculous. She kept telling people to look for the embers, but at some point she actually ended up getting to her feet and showing someone, and it escalated from there until everybody was asking her to roast their marshmallow. Annabeth did a few, but eventually she had to take a step back. The heat from the fire was too much to be standing so close too for long. Still, throughout the night she would say she roasted something like two dozen marshmallows, including Bobby's, Matthew's, and her own.

About an hour later, when many of the younger kids were beginning to droop over, some of the councilors stood up and called for bed time. There was a lot of moaning and groaning, but all of the younger-looking kids began getting up. Annabeth began to get up too, following her younger brothers' example, but Bobby and Matthew waved her off, claiming it was only for kids twelve and under. They pouted a little as they explained the rule, but Annabeth could see that they were growing a bit tired, and none of the kids put up too much of a fight as they were herded off.

Apparently the rest of the campers could hang around for however long they wanted, though it was recommended that they go to bed around 10:00 to 11:00, as breakfast was at 8:00. Sometime along the way, someone explained to Annabeth that the cabins were age separated, and that she, as a seventeen-year-old, would end up in Cabin Three. Cabin One was the Councilor Cabin, and eighteen-year-old campers got Cabin Two, and so on and so forth. Annabeth wasn't really worried about getting lost, but that worry dissolved entirely when someone else told her that there were huge brass numbers nailed to the top of each cabin that were extremely hard to miss

The campfire was nice and all, but without Bobby and Matthew Annabeth didn't really have anyone to talk to. She spotted Rachel at some point, but she seemed to be entirely absorbed in a conversation with one of the other councilors. A pretty girl, with a regal expression and black hair in a braid down her back.

She hung around for maybe another fifteen to twenty minutes, before getting up and heading in the direction the younger kids had gone. It would probably be more appealing to sit around the campfire and talk with her friends once she had actually managed to make friends. Or if she actually managed to make friends. Rachel had seemed nice, but Annabeth was pretty sure she had come off a bit too cold. That seemed to be the problem with most of her first impressions.

She found Cabin Three. It looked like any of the other cabins, except for the brass number above the door and the different weeds growing around its base. When she opened the door it was empty on the inside. All the other seventeen year olds were probably still back at the campfire.

One of the bunks had a sticky note with her name scrawled on it, and all of her stuff piled near the base of the bed. The bed actually looked surprisingly comfortable, and felt so too once Annabeth sat down on it. Since there was no one else in the cabin, Annabeth just changed into her pajamas there, and then grabbed a book from her bag and flopped down onto the bed. She only made it a few pages before she decided to shut the book. It had been kind of a tiring day, what with corralling Bobby and Matthew all day and all the new experiences. She knew she would probably just wake up when another person entered the cabin, but she figured the extra sleep was worth trying for anyway. Forcing herself to stay up for another ninety minutes just because she might wake up a couple times was so not worth it.

She put the book on the floor near all of her other stuff, turned over, and shut her eyes.

-

Hey! If you made it this far, good for you! I’m ecstatic that you took the time to read my fic. Thank you a bunch!

Now, if you’ve been following me for a while you might know that it has been a long time since I posted anything related to me writing. This isn’t any different on fanfiction or AO3. I haven’t posted any of my writing in a long time, and I’m sorry if I disappointed anyone with that.

I’ve been writing all this time, but I haven’t been posting because I wanted to save them, I guess? It started out with me wanting to get a few chapters out before I posted something, just in case, and it spiraled from there. I am most definitely a passion-driven writer.

I have a lot more of this particular fic, but I don’t know if I want to post it or not yet. I don’t even know if I want to post this, haha. While I was reading through it I kept cringing; it’s so long and my attempts to capture what I think Annabeth’s thought process is like is so, so verbose. I could probably cut out half of this fic and it wouldn’t even matter.

Still, I’ve been editing too much lately and I’ve really been craving to just get something out there. Show people that hey, I’m still alive and active and stuff. I wanted to see if anybody would respond, I guess. Whatever.

This is kind of me venting, actually, rather than a proper authors note. Whoops. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story, and I would really appreciate some feedback so I can gauge interest.

[jessicakehoe]

Everything You Need to Know Before Cutting Your Own Bangs

It’s week seven of social distancing, and chances are that your boredom is beginning to reach its peak. So much so, that many of us are considering cutting our own bangs it would seem – according to Pinterest, searches on how to cut your own bangs are up a huge 102 per cent.

Bella Hadid recently cut her own, and I’m almost 100 per cent positive one of your friends already has but the question remains, should you? To find out if it’s possible to give yourself a new look and not immediately regret it, I reached out to Canadian hairstylist Kirsten Klontz. Before you pick up the scissors, here’s what she had to say:

OK first things first, is it possible to cut your own bangs and not immediately regret your decision?

Yes of course! It is definitely less of a risk if you already have bangs that are a bit grown out and you are just looking to trim them. If you are considering a big change on your own – do your research on styles, maybe even DM your hairstylist for a second opinion. Hair is something that is an expressive extension of your personality and it’s fun to change it.

For anyone considering cutting their own bangs, what is your advice for them?

Please put down those kitchen scissors – it’s better that you use a shear that has a fine point for better precision. You can find a variety of decent professional barber/stylist hair cutting scissor sets on amazon ranging from $30-$100. I also recently discovered transparent, stick-on eye shields. You stick them on your forehead and can pull your hair down over them to cut. It is an effective way for you to see exactly where your bangs would sit on your face and avoid getting hair in your eyes at the same time.

Can you outline a few steps people can follow if they do want to cut their own bangs?

First off, your need to assess where you like to part your hair: centre, side or both? If you want the flexibility of changing your part then consider a centre part and a bang that gets longer on the outer edges. That will ensure that you can move them side to side. If you want a side sweeping bang, then you will start on the side where your part is. If you are looking for a heavy blunt fringe, you will start with a centre parting.

Once you have figured out your placement, you will want to start by sectioning out a triangle. The wide edge or bottom of the triangle will be in line or parallel with your forehead, the top tip of the triangle will land in the centre of your parting. Depending on how thick or thin you want your bangs to be, either increase or decrease the size of the triangle.

I would recommend point cutting up into the bangs. What that means is holding your shears vertically as opposed to horizontally. Start in the centre and work your way to the outer edges.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Bella 🦋 (@bellahadid) on Apr 27, 2020 at 1:46pm PDT

Are there any hair types that should be wary of cutting bangs?

Curly hair can be more challenging, depending on the type of curl that you have. I would recommend that you cut your hair dry, styled in the way that you wear it most often. If your hair is naturally thick, start with a small triangle section and, as a precaution, cut them a full inch longer than you want them to be. Typically when there is less weight on the strand, the curl will helix tighter or “shrink up” more than it did before you cut it. You don’t want any surprises the next time you wash and style it. Play it safe and you can always take a little more off if needed.

If someone has cut their own bangs and doesn’t love the new look, is there anything they can do to fix the situation?

There is one trick for a particular scenario. Say you cut them just a little too short and wished they were a little bit longer, you can pull a bit more hair from directly behind the section and cut it longer than what you did previously. It might seem weird that the hair underneath is a bit shorter but it’s perfectly ok. In some cases, this actually encourages the edge of the bang to curve under more easily. But be careful to consider how much hair you pull so that you don’t all of a sudden make them too thick. If something really bad went down, pull out your favourite accessories to clip them to the side or try cute headbands or bandanas. And don’t worry too much – I promise they will grow out.

Once you’ve cut your own bangs, what’s the easiest way to style them?

I absolutely love the Hot Tools One Step Blow Out to round brush my bangs, it takes all the juggling out. Tools like this, that are a blowdryer and brush in one, really make things easy. If your bangs are longer, a curling iron or flat iron are also great options.

The post Everything You Need to Know Before Cutting Your Own Bangs appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

Everything You Need to Know Before Cutting Your Own Bangs published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/