#sandblonde

[nightmaresart]

ᐯᑌᒪᑎEᖇᗩᗷᒪE

Another MagicWeaver fanfic because I love them sm, they're on my mind 24/7

Triggers⚠️

Mentions of blood, slight panic attack, googled Polish🇵🇱

Word count: 2,5k

It's not proofread and English is not my first language, all mistakes are my own

Waiting for the ship to land, a couple of people were standing on the landing site, for the team that had been sent on this mission to show their faces. Niran Pruksamanee was one of them, he mainly wanted to check for injuries and get the latest updates on everything. As the ship opened its door after it had landed safely, someone quickly rushed out, seemingly panicking. Niran managed to get a glimpse of who it was, Aleksander. 

Pushing through the few people that were waiting, Aleksander ignored everyone who even dared to call out his name. He needed to clear his head from everything that had gone wrong during the mission. He had lost control again over his magic and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Aleksander never knows what is happening when he is no longer in control, all he knows is that people have most likely gotten hurt because of him. He needs to get away from people before something goes wrong again. Rushing through the door of his room and locking it behind him, Aleksander fell to the floor, clawing at his armor and throwing it in the corner once he'd gotten it off him. His boots and his eyepatch got the same treatment before the man pulled his knees up to his chest and pushed his palms into his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose Aleksander did not feel any better. He sees glimpses of what had happened when he lost his cool, and like he suspected earlier, people had in fact gotten hurt. 

Running around the base, Niran is looking for Dr.Novak, asking anyone who he came across if they had seen the man. Almost all of them told him no, they had not seen the man, until he asked an older member of overwatch, Agent Zero, “I’ve seen him rush to his room, seems to me he is not doing well, best you take it easy with him Niran,” and with that Niran thanked her and made his way to the mage’s room. 

Uncurling himself and getting up from his position on the floor, Aleksander slowly made his way to the bathroom, deciding that splashing some water on his face may do the trick in making him feel better. Letting the water run over his hands, they slowly began to tremble but ignoring this Aleksander splashes his face a couple of times before turning the water off. Gripping the sink with a deathlike grip he looks at his reflection in the mirror. A tired man stares right back at him, his hair is a mess and there are eye bags clearly visible. Scowling at what he sees, Aleksander straightens his posture, letting his hands wander to his hair and pulling it out of the messed up bun. His breathing becomes more labored the longer he stares at his reflection. What previously was panic has now become anger, anger directed at himself for losing control like that. 

In a blink of an eye he had smashed the mirror into pieces, not even registering the pain that shot through his hand nor the blood that was now covering some shards of the mirror. Letting out an angry shout, Aleksander walked back to the room with an ugly expression on his features. He begins pacing around while running his non-bloody hand through his hair, even gripping the sandblond locks. Being so caught up in his own thoughts and anger Aleks barely registered the knocking on his door, but he did hear it and he wanted to shout at the person to leave him the fuck alone. 

“Sasha?,” 

That voice, that nickname, why did it have to be Bua of all people. Aleksander stopped in his tracks, he wanted to scream at the other man, tell him to leave him alone. But he didn’t, dropping his hands beside his body, his shoulders sagged. 

“Will you let me in please? I want to check on you,”

Blinking away the tears that swelled in his eyes, Aleksander took a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak, “Leave Bua, go away,” 

“No, not until you let me see you,”

“Go away!”

“Sasha-”

Walking up to the door, Aleksander glared at it, getting tired of this back and forth, “Odejdź” He spat out the word like it was venom, hoping that it would make it clear that he did not want to be seen like this. 

Niran sighs as he hears the word being spat at him, it is never good news whenever Aleksander will switch to his native tongue. This only made the white haired man more determined to get in the room and help the mage. “Nothing you say will change my mind Sasha, i just want to help you,” hearing nothing but silence for a minute, Niran was about to walk away until he heard the door being unlocked. Straightening his posture he looks at the disheveled man in the doorway. Before Niran could ask if he could come in, Aleksander already moved to pull Niran inside and closed the door behind them. 

Looking around the room Niran’s eyes landed on the armor, boots and the eyepatch that Aleksander had thrown in a corner, sighing softly he now understood why the other was so determined to keep everyone out. Turning around to face the man Niran noticed just how exhausted he looked, he also noticed the bleeding hand and he immediately reached for it. “What happened? Did you hurt yourself?” He was met with silence so Niran just assumed that is exactly what had happened. Taking Aleksander to his bathroom, Niran’s eyes fell on the broken mirror and the dots started to connect, but he didn’t comment on it. He simply sat Aleksander down on the edge of the bathtub and began rummaging through the cabinet for some bandages. 

Aleksander slowly began to feel the pain register, he was too caught up in his anger to notice before. The bleeding hand began to tremble as he tried to take deep breaths through his nose, he felt pathetic and he certainly did not like Niran seeing him like this. Getting lost in his thoughts, Aleksander didn’t even notice that Niran had crouched down in front of him with the bandages and spray in hand. He only snapped out his destructive train of thoughts when the other man gently took his hand and put the spray on it. Wincing at the stinging feeling Aleksander fought the urge to pull his hand away. 

“Sorry,” Niran whispers, almost afraid to break the silence that had settled over them. Putting the spray aside when he was sure he had cleaned all wounds, Niran slowly began wrapping the bandages around Aleksander’s hand with gentle fingers. 

Fidgeting with the fingers of his non-injured hand, Aleksander took this calm moment to look at Niran. He has always thought that the man in front of him was pretty, gorgeous even, but it was rare to be the center of his concern. Keeping an eye on Niran, Aleksander felt his heartbeat quicken, heat rise to his face and his previously destructive thoughts stop completely. He knew he should feel scared of these feelings, he has always been scared of developing them in the first place, but this felt nice. It felt good even. Watching the man rise back to his feet after he was done with wrapping Aleksander’s hand, he looks at the hand that Niran was offering him to help him back to his feet. Taking it the two walked back to the room. 

“Want to tell me what happened to cause all of this?” Niran knew the reason already, the others had told him what had happened but he wanted to hear it from Aleksander himself. Hoping to get a better understanding of this complex being in front of him. 

Averting his gaze, Aleksander sat down on his bed. He wanted to tell Niran what happened, he really did, but he was afraid of the judgment that might come with telling it. 

Sitting down next to the other man, Niran patiently waited for Aleksander to tell him. Raising his hand to tuck a piece of the sandblond locks behind the other’s ear, looking as the blue eye looked around the room. 

"Przepraszam,” Aleksander sighed, finally making eye contact with Niran, “I lost control over my magic… People got hurt,” He whispers, it still haunts him that whenever he is no longer in control bad things happen. “I never wanted it to happen, yet it did-” A warm and soft hand took Aleksander’s own and at that moment everything spilled from his lips, from the moment he had felt the control slip, to the glimpses he saw of what happened during it and the panic that filled his body when he regained consciousness. 

Niran listened to everything that Aleksander told him, not judging the man like Aleksander had thought he would’ve, but nodding and gently squeezing his hand. He felt safe, like he could tell Niran anything and the man wouldn’t hold it against him like so many others had done in the past. Taking a deep breath Aleksander stopped his rambling, squeezing Niran’s hand back he felt all sorts of emotion bubble to the surface. Including the feelings he had for the other man, the feelings he so desperately tried to bury and ignore. But he didn’t want to ignore them anymore, Niran might turn him down, not return Aleksander’s own feelings, but that would be alright, he would get over the rejection. 

Taking the silence of Aleksander as a sign he was done talking, Niran nodded slowly, not sure if anything that he might say would help, but he still felt the need to break the silence. “I’m certain that with time this will no longer happen, that you will be in full control at all times, Sasha,” Niran had seen the power the other holds, it would take time to be in proper control of it all, “But you will not have to do it on your own,” He offered a faint smile to Aleksander and snorted softly in light amusement when Aleksander averted his gaze again. It was almost adorable.

Fighting the urge to scoff at the snort he heard from Niran, Aleksander couldn’t help but feel the heat return to his face, “Thank you,” he whispered, returning his gaze to the one of Niran, not being able to help the faintest smile forming on his face. 

“Thank you for allowing me to help,” Niran whispered back before laughing when Aleksander dropped his hand and lightly shoved the taller man off his bed, covering his face so he avoided getting smacked by a pillow. He sometimes forgets just how easily Aleksander can get flustered like that. 

“Stop laughing!”

“Then stop trying to smack me!” 

Dropping the pillow he was holding back on the bed, Aleksander stood over Niran, which was a mistake because now the man on the floor could pull him down. Bracing for impact, Aleksander made a face at Niran, “Why did you do that?”

Shrugging from his position on the floor, “Now we’re even!” He still had a bright expression on his face, the tension from earlier now clearly broken by the two fooling around. Rolling on his side so that he could face the mage, Niran once again tucked the sandblond locks behind the other’s ear, “Hey,”

Rolling his eye Aleksander couldn’t help but smile, he had to admit that the idiocy of Niran was rubbing off on him, “Hey,” the man said back to him, letting his eye roam Niran’s face for the who knows how many time, “Can i tell you something?” Aleksander needed to get it off his chest now, he needed to tell Niran how he felt about him. 

Raising his brows, Niran adjusted his position, “Of course, you can tell me anything,” He thought it would be another bad thing that Aleksander had gone through, or something terrible he had witnessed that he wanted to get off his chest.

A deep breath, his eyes closed for a little while Aleksander was trying to find the right words. Once he found them he nodded and opened his eyes again, looking at the concerned face of Niran, “It’s nothing bad, I promise,” seeing relief wash over the features of the other man, Aleksander fought the urge to snort in amusement. Taking another deep breath Aleksander let it spill from his lips, “When I'm with you I feel like myself.  I feel like every side of me is present and accepted.  and I feel good about it—  I feel good about who I am when I'm with you,” 

Was Aleksander confessing his feelings? His feelings for Niran? Niran felt his breath catch in his throat, he felt his heart speed up, heat rise to his face. He knew he was staring at the other with wide eyes, happiness washed over him and a big smile made its way onto his face. 

“It’s okay if you don’t–” before Aleksander could finish his sentence Niran had grabbed his face and peppered it with kisses. Oh. OH. His heart skipped a beat as he genuinely laughed for the first time in months. 

Pulling back, Niran had a grin from ear to ear, “Of course I return them Sasha, I was afraid I might never get the chance to act on them,” running his fingers across Aleksander’s face the two layed there on the floor for a minute, or maybe longer, neither of them was paying attention to the time anyway. 

After a while Aleksander got antsy, “As much as I would like to have you do that,” gesturing to the calm tracing of the other’s fingers, “I would prefer to get off the ground,” Aleksander shot Niran an awkward smile, the floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to be.

Processing what Aleksander had just said, Niran sprung into action, quickly getting up himself before helping Aleksander off the floor. Holding the mage’s hand, Niran brought it up to his lips and gave it a kiss, “Better?”

Chuckling at the gesture Aleksander nodded, “Much,” cupping Niran’s face for a brief moment, Aleksander turned to look at the mess he had made in the bathroom and made an uncomfortable face. “Suppose I’ll have to explain what happened to the mirror,” Dropping his hands to his sides he then made an apologetic face at Niran, “I’m sorry for cutting this short, But–”

“But you need to clean yourself up and look presentable before you inform Winston about the mirror?” Niran finished the sentence for him and normally it would annoy the absolute shit out of Aleksander, but now it was appreciated. Aleksander nodded, “Tak,” 

Leaning forward to press another kiss on Aleksander’s face, Niran understood the need for privacy, “When you’ve done all that, come look for me,” making his way to the door Niran opened it and turned to face Aleksander, “See you in a bit my mage,” 

Smiling softly, Aleksander made a sound of approval, “I’ll see you soon then, Bua,” nodding the other goodbye he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Aleksander felt like things would go better from now on. 

[stylists-supporting-stylists]

SANDALWOOD 🏖 . . . . . Reposted from @hairbykaleighb - SANDALWOOD 🏖 #beigehair #beigeblondebalayage #balayage #balayageombre #babylights #strandlights #teasylights #teasylightsandbalayage #strandlightsandbalayage #goldwellcolor #goldwellapprovedus #beachblonde #sandblonde #moneypiece #curls #hairgoals (at The Hair Company by The Skin & Body Spa) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuNRPlmAOZv/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1nzkbwpxhkjfn

[patrikhairstyle]

Lo shatush ci regala schiariture naturali. Come create dal sole. #shatush #shatushhair #shatushbiondo #shatushlove #shatushpatrikhairstyle #patrikhairstyle #patrikhairstylist #patrikhairstyle13e #corsoitalia13/e #sandblond #biondosabbia #naturalblondehair (hier: Patrikhairstyle) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPQFqKBhIG6/?utm_medium=tumblr

[philshappenings]

I’ve never seen a little gal as optimistic and happy as you were, so much joy and life!

[nici-barber-hair]

Bei Stefanie war der Wunsch nach einem beigen natürlichem #Blond Sie war auch mutig und ich durfte etwas von der Haarlänge Abschneiden. Ebenso durfte eine #Haarverdickung von #Unverblümt auf ihr Haar, so das alle styles besser halten. Wir waren sehr glücklich mit dem Ergebnis ❤ Danke Stefanie #balayage #natürlichesblond #beachwaves #sandblond #sprayP #shampooG #loreal #diarichesse #Gilchingfriseur #alling #gauting #Starnberg #weßling (hier: NICI Barber & Hair) https://www.instagram.com/p/CFIFDDdo2md/?igshid=igk0lb38tb2a

[dryades-angeli]

My creative State

After my Conversation with @jonquilclegane yesterday, I am in the mood to draw my own Version of Sigyn. I want to draw a skirt for her, that is not to long und not to short. I´ll design her an outfit in the style of an Valkyrie, in which she should still appear feminine and not too dominant. And I want so give her freckles, greenish blue eyes und sandblonde curly hair. Sigyn has original goldblonde hair, but it isn´t easy to make a design with this Haircolor, that doesn´t resemble Amora. I came up with the idea of ​​designing an outfit for Loki afterwards and then thinking about what the children would look like. Also, I had in mind to draw my own comic based on the Marvel characters, showing Loki's love for Sigyn. This makes me wonder how the two would interact, and the thought occurred to me that the relationship between Rhysand and Feyre, from the book Court of Thorns and Roses would match. Rhysand is a little bit like Loki und Feyre remembers me of Sigyn. Anyone know the book? Would you agree with me?

[puxandooscabelos]

@naicarvalho90 | CoR sTYle @l.a.j.e #balayagefoils #balayage #ombrehair #blondeambition #bluntbob #loiroareia #sandblonde #cabeleireiros #hairdresser #sp #wellaprofessional #paulmitchell (em LAJE)

[romorais27uk]

Another Blond!!! (By Rodrigo) #blonde #blonder #iceblonde #simplysmarter #indola #loiros #loiroperfeito #sandblonde #loiroareia #loirogelo #highlightshair #schwarzkopf #schwarzkopfprofessional #blondehair #hairforyou #cut #haircut #bobhaircut #bob #chaneldebico #stepney #stepneygreen #shoreditch #hackney #mileend #bethnalgreen #likes #like4like #followｍe #followback #follow4like @hairforyousalonandbeauty (at Hair FoR you Salon and Beauty)

[grecoisms]

title: time of the singing birds (1/5)

pairing: cullen rutherford / cassandra pentaghast

summary: 

"She never made things easy. But she always made them possible."

Cullen and Cassandra across the years.

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.

1. They are still cleaning blood off from the cobbled streets of Hightown when the Seekers prepare to leave, a whole army of them, the same way they have arrived: clad in the darkest of clothes and blankest of faces. Kirkwallers – what is left of them anyway – avoid them automatically, not quite aware what is happening, what will happen. It is hard to forget recent happenings, even if summer envelops the city in its hotbright arms.

The tail of the small army is almost out of the great market square when a solitary figures emerges from its mass, and hops off their horse, graceful and quick. Cullen, who is helping with reparations along with some remaining templars closely tagging at his heels, notices this warily. He doesn't stop the task at hand, which is presently to load the cart with salvaged Chantry stuff: a half-singed book here, a chipped Andraste statuette there. An Antivan leather rug. Letters carefully stacked into a smaller cabinet with rattling doors. Alphabetized. Cullen is impressed, which is a sort of miracle nowadays. 

At the end of the day, after leaving Darktown, he has to sit down at the dock to collect himself. Because despite sending food and finding shelter, the mass wails and blames and points. He doesn't shake before them, but he bites his tongue until he tastes blood.

He already sent two of such carts in Lowtown and plans to check the deal the templars made with the Blooming Rose and the Hanged Man. Shelter. Food. Order. Desperate times, desperate measures, he thinks, just when the figure who gets off from their horse starts to stride towards them.

The figure is a woman, all sharp edges and a strict expression. Cullen senses the leadership in her movements - no one moves quite as sure, quite as determined.

He is just about to throw Chancellor Uthric's Legendarium onto the cart when the Seeker stops before him. The youngest templar, Thomas, freezes. His mouth hangs open, all comical. Cullen bites his tongue before he can snap at him, and instead, crouches down to collect the loose papers that are falling out from the fractured spine of the codex.

"Knight-Captain Rutherford?" Nevarran accent, hard on the tongue. He looks up. The sun blinds him, catches the Seeker from behind, turning her into a dark silhouette.

Still, he doesn't stop his task. Up and down, left to right. From the ground, to the cart. From the Chantry tables, to the people's belly. Cullen laughs a bitter laugh.

"I am not Knight-Captain anymore" he'd address her properly, but he lacks this particular etiquette too, it seems. He wipes his face with the cleanest patch on his sleeves, careful of the fresh scars. "But I am Cullen Rutherford, yes."

His soldiers - Thomas and Lauranna - share a quick look between them. Their faces are shadowed and battered, their armours with the proper insignia thrown in the cool shade of the debris, discarded. They must be a sorry sight. Still, Cullen has never felt calmer, here, standing in the sun, moving objects with his own two hands. Survival, it seems, has turned boredom into safety.

When he stands up, straight as an arrow, the Seeker steps towards him, stepping onto the half shadows of the great white columns. She has a solemn face, all angles and dark eyes that do not shy from his gaze. An armored and strong and scarred woman, only a few years older than him. Though Cullen does not trust his own age anymore.

Because sometimes, when the sun sets red behind the Vimmark Mountains, Cullen would think of home, and his heart would feel ancient and lost - as if he dropped it somewhere between Kinloch Hold and Kirkwall. Perhaps it turned to stone, like Meredith, and sunk deep down to the bottom of the Waking Sea. Maybe this is why he favours the docks so much. He adamantly refuses to think of the docks at home, by the lake. 

Yet when Cullen looks at the woman and finds her face familiar, it does not hurt like violent sunsets and the deepdark waters. In fact, he trusts her scarred and stony face on sight, like he trusts the loops in Mia's handwriting. Even years later he would not be able to tell exactly why his heart calmed so under her eyes.

"Well, serah" the woman smiles a bit and her scar ripples with it. She speaks as if they had been talking for hours now. "There is a ship going to Highever tomorrow morning. Then we'll set for Haven, for the Conclave. Surely, you have heard of it."

"Yes" Cullen says, careful, because the scar on his mouth is still fresh and because he knows an offer when he hears it. "But I don't need to sail across the sea and listen to a council saying that there is a problem. I live it now. And I watched it happen." He motions to the cart, he points at the debris. He thinks of the hundreds of hungry mouths and the hushed wails when he crosses Lowtown. He thinks of Kirkwall, burning and mad and red.

Cullen doesn't add, because it is obvious: I made it happen.

The woman makes a barking sound - it takes a second for Cullen to realize this is her way of laughing.

"You are every bit the man I have heard about" she crosses her arms to hide the white symbol on her breastplate, an eye on bright fire. "We may be kindred souls, Commander. I, myself, also dislike idle talk and favour taking action."

"I am no Commander."

"You could be." the woman retorts, eyes flashing. "You should be. You were forged in an army. For an army. Better still, you are fit to lead, to plan, to command. Unless your idea of saving Thedas is to sort through Chantry Literature."

Her mouth is set in a thin line as she eyes the piles on the cart. Cullen locks his jaw and steels himself.

"That is also a commendable way of ensuring safety. And legacy, for the future."

"Legacy lies in people, not paper." she says. "And safety should be done with them and by them, and again, not through paper. But you know this, do you not, Rutherford?"

She points at her own scar and looks at his. Soldier to soldier.

"Alright, Seeker." he says, holding up his hands. "You have my attention. What is your proposal?"

"The Conclave is but theory. What the Divine truly wants is radical change to the order of things, so Thedas can survive the next age. What we think - what Justinia thinks, is that the Conclave will fail. More dire decisions are needed. For this reason, I have set out to collect a group of remarkable people to serve her and the Maker's will."

It is Cullen's turn to make his distaste visible.

"Am I to serve as a substitute for Hawke?"

"Maker no. The woman is a force of nature, but she has no finesse for battle strategies. And her presence, though sorely needed, is out of question as of the present, unfortunately. She'd have been the symbol for our cause. Alas. But no matter if Hawke returns or not: You are to be the Commander of the Armed Forces."

"If I accept."

"If you would, please."

"Hm" he scratches the beginnings of his sandblonde beard and knows he would not know himself now if he would stare at his reflection in the water. "You don't know me. Why the trust?"

The woman seems annoyed.

"Would you require a more elongated verbal foreplay? Take care, I am not a patient woman by far."

Cullen laughs, and this time, it is genuine. The woman laughs as well. When they calm, the woman's eyes are solemn again, almost angry. He doesn't know yet, but this is a sign of her passion.

"Listen" she says. "What I am, however, is a Seeker of the Truth. You know what that means, do you know? I know true men when I see them, and you look like one. Trust me. Trust yourself. Come with us, because we need your help."

She is shorter than him by an inch, but in the semi-sunlight and dark armour, she looks like a giant. His heart sinks.

"I cannot go with you tomorrow."

"But you will come." A hopeful lilt.

"But I will join you later. When I have finished the last of my dealings here."

"When you have filled the cart and the list, you mean."

"You got me." He smiles again, but it smaller and sadder this time.

"Well, Commander Rutherford" she says, and gives her hand for a shake. "Welcome aboard the Inquisition. Write to the Haven Chantry once you start your journey there."

Her grip is firm and warm. His is tentative.

The whole ordeal is a but seconds. She lets go, nods to the others and is already on her way back to her horse and to the docks.

Cullen almost crouches back again to read the burnt letters of some other book when he realizes something.

"Wait" his voice is a shout, all echo as it reaches her. She turns around, caught offguard."I didn't catch your name."

"Cassandra" her voice reverberates across the square, even and acute, like her. "My name is Cassandra Penteghast."

She disappears. 

The fleeting bells from the Viscount's Keep begin their solitary song under the scorching sun.

[derengeldernacht]

Goldene Zeiten

Nervös spielst du mit dem linken Ärmel deines formalen Outfits herum, während du die Grüppchen von sich unterhaltender Prominenz betrachtest. Zurückgezogen zwischen den Säulen, wie du bist, erschrickst du leicht, als dich eine rot gekleidete Person von schräg rechts hinter deiner Schulter anspricht.

“Dein erstes Mal hier?”

Du drehst deinen Kopf, nickst zögerlich und fühlst wie deine Wangen sich peinlich berührt erhitzen.

“Ist es so offensichtlich?”

Der Champion von Sinnoh, denn du erkennst, dass sie es in dem dunkelroten Ballkleid ist, zuckt gleichmütig mit den Schultern.

“Ein bisschen. Abgesehen von mir versuchen in der Regel nur einige Neulinge im Abseits zu verschwinden. Die meisten hier kennen sich und nutzen die Chance sich auszutauschen.“

“Ah”, du lächelst ein wenig verkniffen, Blick auf deine polierten Schuhe gerichtet. Sie grinst über dein sichtliches Unbehagen.

„Entspann dich, keiner beißt. Jetzt zumindest noch nicht.“

Du reißt deinen Kopf so schnell herum, dass dir ein wenig schwindlig wird. Dein offensichtliches Entsetzen entlockt ihr ein leises Schnauben, aber sie erklärt:

„Mit der Zeit steigt auch der Alkoholpegel. Am Ende der Nacht ist immer irgendwer besoffen und leistet sich etwas peinliches. Aber keine Sorge, bis dahin dauert‘s noch. Außerdem sind üblicherweise mindestens zwei oder drei Champs nüchtern, immerhin sind hier auch Pokémon involviert.“

Verstehend nickst du, willst du dir doch nicht vorstellen, welchen Schaden einige der anwesenden Pokémon anrichten könnten. Demonstrativ einen großen Schluck aus ihrer Sektflöte nehmend fügt sie dir zuzwinkernd noch hinzu:

“Diesmal bin ich dran mit trocken bleiben. Nicht dass Lord nochmal versucht jemanden in den Hintern zu zwicken.”

Mit einer Augenbraue angehoben siehst du sie fragend an, doch anstatt zu antworten winkt sie ab und tätschelt deine Schulter.

„Vielleicht ein andermal. Jetzt muss ich sozial spielen. Kannst du ja auch mal probieren.“

Du folgst ihrem Blick zu einem Guardevoir mit verschränkten Armen, dass euch anstarrt. Lilly lächelt dir aufmunternd zu, bevor sie aus dem Schatten der Säulen tritt und sich unter die Menge mischt. Du nimmst dir noch einen Moment, dann richtest du deinen Ärmel und folgst ihrem Ratschlag.

Auf die Terrasse schlüpfend erkennst du eine dir bekannte Person an der Balustrade lehnend. Motiviert von deinen Gesprächen mit den anderen Champs und Top-Koordinatoren machst du auf dich aufmerksam:

“Sozial genug gewesen?“

Sowohl die Frau, als auch das neben ihr sitzende Arkani drehen dir ihre Köpfe zu.

“Lady erlaubt mir durchaus Pausen. Wenn’s auch nur dafür ist, dass die mich nicht umbringen.“

Ihr trockener Ton und die Geste, die sie mit den hochhackigen Schuhen in ihrer Hand macht, zeigen deutlich, dass sie nur halb scherzt. Mit einem skeptischen Blick auf das Feuerpokémon stellst du dich mit gesundem Abstand neben sie an die Brüstung. Lilly interpretiert deine Geste richtig und kichert.

“Keine Panik, er wird dich schon nicht beißen. Normalerweise ist er gut erzogen. Nicht wahr, Kleiner?“

Das große Hundepokemon grummelt in amüsierter Zustimmung, legt seinen Kopf auf die Schulter seiner Trainerin und hechelt freundlich. Mit einem nicht mehr zu unterdrückendem Grinsen trittst du nun selbst näher und tätschelst die sandblonde Mähne.

“Nett dich kennenzulernen, Lord.”

Er hufft als Antwort, blinzelt dich an. Dann hebt er seinen Kopf, wufft zu seiner Trainerin und flickt ein langes Ohr Richtung Ballsaal. Sie krault ihn ebenfalls kurz hinterm Ohr, bevor sie dich ansieht.

„Brauchst du was vom Buffet?“

Du blinzelst überrascht, aber schüttelst deinen Kopf.

„Nein, warum?“

„Es ist Skandaltime.“

Fragend runzelst du deine Stirn und gibst ein wenig intelligemtes „Häh“ von dir. Anstelle einer Antwort lehnt sich die Championess mit einer Handgeste zu Lord mit dem Rücken zur Balustrade zurück. Sie kopierend, beobachtet ihr gemeinsam, wie das Arkani das Buffet ansteuert und sich das Tablet mit den Krabbikeksen schnappt. Nur um das komplette Ding vorsichtig und ohne Verluste zur Schokoladenfontäne zu tragen und hineinzukippen. Dir klappt vor Überraschung die Kinnlade herunter, während der Unruhestifter zurück auf den Balkon trabbt, um sich eine gespielte Standpauke und eine diskrete Kuscheleinheit abzuholen.

Den restlichen Abend verbringst du auf dem Balkon mit der Beobachtung des Chaos, das eine nüchterne Championess, ihre Pokémon und diverse Champs in verschiedenen Stadien der Trunkenheit anrichten können und bist ziemlich froh über die Abwesenheit von Paparazzo.

[mirkanhiukset]

Kauniisti uloskasvanut balayage raidoitus sekä pituutta venähtänyt polkka sai uusia pehmeitä raitoja tyvestä alkaen. Niskaan jätettiin omaa tummuutta antamaan kontrastia elävöittämään kokonais sävyä.

Sivut leikattu lyhyemmiksi ja taaksepäin hieman piteneväksi.

Latvat kerrostettu ja kevennetty. Luonnostaan hyvin taipuisat ja erittäin paksut hiukset kaipaavat kosteutusta ja harjausta jolloin pinta silenee ja hiukset liikkuvat kauniisti.

Balayage raidat kasvavat pehmeästi ulos jopa parisen vuotta kuten viimeisissä ennen käsittelyä otetuissa kuvissa näkyy.

Mukana myös olaplex tehohoitona.

#balayage #dimensional #dimensions #sandblonde #warmblonde #highlights #multicolored #layeres #layerhaircut #naturalhair

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A post shared by Hiushuone Kristal (@hiushuonekristal) on Sep 1, 2020 at 1:53am PDT

[nici-barber-hair]

Bei Stefanie war der Wunsch nach einem beigen natürlichem #Blond Sie war auch mutig und ich durfte etwas von der Haarlänge Abschneiden. Ebenso durfte eine #Haarverdickung von #Unverblümt auf ihr Haar, so das alle styles besser halten. Wir waren sehr glücklich mit dem Ergebnis ❤ Danke Stefanie #balayage #natürlichesblond #beachwaves #sandblond #sprayP #shampooG #loreal #diarichesse #Gilchingfriseur #alling #gauting #Starnberg #weßling (hier: NICI Barber & Hair) https://www.instagram.com/p/CFIE54VoPiq/?igshid=i4fdgp9e3zgt

[tamahakes48564]

20 wunderschöne sandblonde Haare lange Frisuren im Jahr 2018. Sehen Sie hier di… https://ift.tt/2NHstLt

[craigmcnett]

20 wunderschöne sandblonde Haare lange Frisuren im Jahr 2018. Sehen Sie hier di… https://ift.tt/2Zl58pP

[nickolaseide56091]

Light brown to sand blonde – # light brown #sand blonde – # light brown #sandblond https://ift.tt/2Yo6I9Z

[weirddemiwood]

Surviving Chapter 2

Fandom: The Walking Dead & Supernatural

Pairring: Dean x Oc (Katy Dixon Singer)

Warning: language? violence (Duh)

It was morning and I was minding my own buisness. Since I still had my gun on me I cleaned it to keep myself buisy. I looked up when I heard a yell and sprinted in that direction. “Carl! Sweetie! Carl!Carl!” Lori called out. It was him who yelled. He was okay but a bit further we saw a Dumb-Ghoul or Walker eating a moose.sry, had to do that. The moose had two arrows sticking out of it and I asked myself who shot that animal.Maybe Daryl? The group told me he was a hunter. Of course not one like I was but the classic one.

The group all started hitting the Walker or slashing at it with wathever they ahd till Dale chopped it’s head of. We heard shuffles from behind us and all turned around as a man with sandblond hair and blue eyes, that looked like mine came out behind a rock, a crossbow in his hands. “that was my moose!” the man yelled as he saw the Walker. “look at this, pitted by that geek.” he said and started to kick the Walker around. “Calm down boy.” Dale said. “What do you understand from it old man?” he asked angrily. “I hunted the moose for miles and wanted to bring it to camp.” he said whikle pulling out the arrows. “should we just cut around the pitted part?” he asked looking at us. “I wouldn’t risk it.” Shane told him. Daryl looked at us and told us about the squirrels he caught. So he hunts moose and squirrel? Crowley would love this. 

The walker head moved again and I grabbed one of Drayls arrows and put it through the head. “You have to hit the brain.” I told them and Daryl looked at me curiously but didn’t say anything.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here, I’ve brought squirrels. We’re gonna cook them.” Daryl yelled out, thinking his brother was at camp. “Daryl, wait a moment, I have to talk to you.” Shane said. “About what?” Daryl asked. “About Merle. There was a problem in Atlanta.”Shane explained. Daryl looked around at all of us, confused. “Is he dead?” “We’re not sure.” “Yes or No?” Daryl was getting angry. “It’s not easy to explain, I’m gonna try.” Rick said. “Who are you?” Daryl asked. “Rick Grimes.” “Rick Grimes? and what do you want to tell me?” “Your brother was a danger to all of us, thats why I cuffed him to a pipe on the roof.He’s still there.” Rick explained. Daryl stepped back and wiped over his face. If he was anything like me, he would probably attack Rick in a few moments. I got in a defence stance. “So, that I understand it correctly.You say you cuffed my brother to a roof and left him there?!” He yelled angrily. “Yes” Rick confirmed. Daryl lounged himself at Rick but I jumped against him and through him to the grounf before he could reach Rick. Daryl pulled a knife and I got in a defencive stand. He swung the Knife and I ducked first but then shot up and grabbed his arm, taking the knife away from him. Shane leaped at Daryl from behind and got him in a choke hold. “I’m warning you.let me go!” Daryl yelled. “Better not.” Shane answered. “The choking hold is forbidden.” Daryl exclaimed. “You can indicate me.” Shane told him. “I would like to talk about this in peace. Do you think we can manage that?” Rick asked. He got no response. “Do you think we can manage that?” Rick asked again and Shane let go of Daryl. “What I did was not without reason. Your brother doesn’t really work well with other people.” Yep, definitly my brother. “It wasn’t his faul, I dropped the key.” T dog said. “couldn’t you pick it up?” Daryl askeded. “It fell in the drain.” Daryl groaned and stood up. “Don’t think I feel better now.” “Maybe if you hear this: I locked the door to the roof with a chain, so the walkers don’t reach him and with a lock.2 T dog said.“I’ts at least a chance.” Rick said. “To hell with all of you!” Daryl exclaimed.”Just tell me where he is so I can get him.” “He’ll show you.” Lori said. “Won’t you?” “I’ll go back with you.” “Me too.” I added and both looked to me. “Why would you want to come? You don’t even know him.” Daryl asked. “He’s my brother too.”

“What?” Daryl asked and I sighned. “My name is Katy Dixon-Singer I ran away from home when I was seven. I had two older brothers, theire names where Merle and Daryl.” I told him and I saw the shock on all the faces when they heard that I ran away so young. Daryls eyes grew wide. “Why?” he asked in a low voice and I stepped closer, not wanting the rest of rhe group to hear what I said. “You know why, your farther was no goog man, at least not after mom died,” I told him. “Our farther?” he asked.”He was your farther too.” “Maybe in blood, but to me my farher was Robert Singer, the man who raised me and thought me how to fight.”