ok look. i know there’s this fandom-wide idea of annabeth being super organized in contrast to percy’s, well, percy-ness, but here’s the thing:
annabeth chase is a messy ass bitch.
she’s so smart, and so creative but she gets so distracted so easily so she’ll start a sketch for one building or statue or whatever, and then immediately toss that paper aside in favor of a new, better idea. and then again and again.
and we all know that she has glasses. like no doubt about it. she has this huge horn-rimmed reading glasses that percy likes to steal, a lot of times she won’t even notice them slipping down her nose until they very nearly fall off her face.
it’s very rare that she brushes her hair: if it poses any sort of difficulty in the morning, she just tosses it up on a rat nest of a bun or ponytail that she probably either did sleep in or will sleep in.
all of her papers are everywhere in her backpack; she tried to stay organized with folders, but all of her assignments and what not ended up outside the folders, floating around in her bag in an order she can figure out.
that’s all i got for today, just your friendly announcement that annabeth is a messy ass bitch.
I really want a scene where Stiles is waking up in the morning and he yawns and then the camera pans over to Lydia and she’s lying in bed next to him, asleep, her face illuminated beautifully by morning sunlight. But she’s doing something really goofy, like drooling on the pillow or she’s got her fist tightened into a ball near her mouth, or her hair looks like a rat’s nest.
And Stiles just looks at her with these soft eyes and smiles and slowly raises his shaking hand to count his fingers, breathing out a sigh of relief when there’s five.
When I was 12 I loved Annabeth because like…she didn’t really give a shit about what she looked like, and there would be moments where Rick would say “She woke up with a rat’s nest” or “She didn’t have time to brush it” and yeah. That meant a lot to little me. So here are some headcannons based on my own blonde, thick, curly hair experiences.
When she was living on the streets with Luke and Thalia, she wouldn’t really brush her hair. Sometimes she would, but she would only comb through the top later bcuz she was young and in a rush, so there was this giant hidden knot of tangles at the base of her neck.
(Thalia eventually had to cut off the clump because it was so gnarly. Annabeth named it “George”)
Back when she was still living at home, her stepmom would force her to sit down every morning so she could comb through the bed-head. She would rip the brush through Annabeth’s hair, and roll her eyes when she started crying. “Stop being dramatic. It’s not that bad.”
Because of that ^^, Annabeth’s head is basically numb now??? Like, you could tear out a clump of hair and she would hardly react.
She can’t fit all her hair under a hat. Even when it’s in a bun. It’s fucking impossible.
She gets tons of questions like “What shampoo/conditioner do you use?” and she’s like “…uh, whatever’s in the shower?? Department store shit?” and they nod like she’s just given them sage haircare advice.
Annabeth doesn’t cut her hair short. She can’t make herself, even though she knows it would be more practical to have short hair but…she can’t. It’s not a vanity thing. Her hair is unique, she knows this, and it’s sort of become a part of her. Like a calling card.
She feels the same way with dying her hair. Sometimes, she really hates being blonde, because there’s always some fuckboy who’s like “lol ur blonde u must be a dumb whore” which is stupid and doesn’t even make sense, but some ppl actually slut-shame her about it. So she keeps the color because fuck those people.
People are always asking to braid her hair. All the time. It’s fucking annoying.
(The only person she lets braid her hair is Piper because she actually knows what the fuck she’s doing.)
Some people just…touch her hair. Like, random strangers. In the grocery store, at the movies, in school. OMFG all the time in school, the kid sitting behind her will reach out and pat her hair, and she’ll turn around to glare and they’ll just be like “what?”
She plays with it when she’s hyper-focusing, twirling and twisting it around her fingers. Once when she was 13 a group of girls started teasing her about it. “Why do you always play with your hair? Do you think your special? Are you trying to flirt? You’re so weird and gross.” She stopped playing with it in public after that.
She ALWAYS has hair-ties. ALWAYS. She’s that girl with, like, four hair-ties on her left wrist at all times. You need a hair-tie? Go to Annabeth, she’s gotchu.
All of her hair-ties break, though. Like, they just snap. She has to buy the super durable ones.
The only people who are allowed to play with her hair without asking for express permission are: Percy, Piper, Hazel (although she always asks anyways), and Rachel.
OMFG Rachel and Annabeth and Hazel bond over their curly hair. Like, they each have different kinds of curly hair, but they can all bond together over it.
Like, someone says “you can’t comb your hair in the shower” or “do you ever brush your hair?” and Annabeth, Rachel, and Hazel share a Look.
Annabeth went through a phase where whenever someone would say something like “OMG i would do anything to have your hair you’re so lucky,” she would respond with “ok i can shave it off and glue it to your head if you want” with a complete straight face.
She gets headaches when she wears high ponytails.
Her hair gets REALLY poofy when she brushes it out. Like, just a cloud of poof. It’s such a relief when she does this sometimes, because it sort of takes off a lot of its weight.
If she ever does cut her hair, she’s going to donate it. All of it.
She hates it when ppl call her “blondie”. Even Percy.
She’s actually broken a few hairbrushes before. But now she knows what kinds to buy.
For the last time, no. She doesn’t like straightening her hair. It takes forever, it’s really hot and uncomfortable, and it never stays. It’s stupid.
NO. BANGS. NEVER.
She can totally hide things in her hair. Sometimes ppl will stick pencils and pens in it. Percy and Piper have a game where they try to see how many things they can fit in her hair without her noticing.
She has to braid it when she swims. Like, none of that majestic hair-flowing-underwater crap. If her hair gets wet, it will tangle, and brushing that shit out is a pain in the ass.
She’s recognizable in a crowd. She sort of likes that.
Sometimes, Percy will refer to her hair as a lion’s mane. She sort of likes that.
Generally, she doesn’t really care about how it looks. It poofs up when it’s summer, it turns dark when it’s winter, and it will get tangles no matter how many times she brushes it. She doesn’t have the time or energy to care.
She doesn’t shave her legs, because who gives a shit? (also she’s blonde so the hair doesn’t really show up, so if she did care that wouldn’t be too much of a problem.)
Just….Annabeth dealing with her hair like only Annabeth would.
A fem!snowbaz fic as a gift for my AMAZING, DEAR FRIEND @ismill!!!
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Some blood/violence (rat-related, bc catacombs)
Sofia Snow is a smudge on my mirror that I can’t scrub off.
Sofia Snow is the scratchy tag on the back of my shirt.
Sofia Snow is a curse on our houses.
Sofia Snow is who I imagine walking down the isle with me in matching white dresses.
I hate Sofia Snow.
Snow barges into our room way past curfew, bruises blotched across her arms. She is gripping that damn sword, the one that’s almost as tall as she is and not quite as golden. It’s smeared with blood.
Green goblin goo is drying in that rat’s nest she calls hair.
Even though I’m screaming inside (I always am when she returns like this), I just blink impassively and turn back to my Potions textbook.
I can hear her slamming open drawers, sword rattling around and bumping into things until she finally spells it away. I try not to imagine her flushed face, the freckles violently spattered across her nose like fucking constellations.
How does Violet Baudelaire tie her hair up into a perfect ponytail with a silk ribbon? Not a silk ribbon tie that works more like a regular hair tie, but a piece of silk ribbon that she ties into her hair. How does she create that perfect pony without her hair slipping out or looking like a tied up and tangled rats nest? Especially because she doesn’t double knot it! How the fuck does it stay????
"Hey rapunzel,“ Clint snickers as you saunter into the room, your hair swaying behind you steadily with each step of your feet. "You ever gonna cut that rats nest off?”
“Clint,” Nat nudges the man in his ribs, silencing his little mocks. “I think it’s beautiful (Y/N),” Nat gives you a little smile as she stares at your hair, her gaze intently looking up and down the expanse of it.
“God, give me five minutes with some scissors and you’re hair will be good as new,” Tony chuckles as he walks in, a cup of lukewarm
Coffee in his hand. “How do you not choke yourself every night on that thing? It’s so long I wouldn’t be surprised to wake up one morning to find you dead, that mess wrapped around your throat,"
"Ha ha,” you laugh dryly, snatching the cup of coffee from his hands and taking a generous sip. “I was actually thinking a out cutting it you losers, now I’ll just keep growing it out to annoy you guys,” you hand the cup back before waltzing into the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat before your morning run.
"Wait,“ Tony follows you like a lost puppy, his brows furrowed at your words. "Are you really thinking of cutting it?” You nod your head as you grab a bottle of water and an apple, feeling its tenderness before deciding it was good enough to eat. “Oh my god, I never thought I’d see the day,” Tony beams excitedly, nearly bursting with joy from your words.
“I’m not so…I’m scared to do it,” you sigh, hanging your head a bit as you look down at the frayed ends. “It’s taken me so long to get it this long and I’m always being told how pretty it is and-"
"But (Y/N)-” Nat Interjects, biting her lip as she rises from her seat on the couch. “Think of cutting off those dead ends, starting fresh,” You nod, toying with the far too dead ends.
“And,” Tony adds, raising a finger to interrupt Nat. “Think if how much easier missions will be when agents aren’t constantly grabbing at your massive ponytail, eh?” You smile a bit at Tony’s attempt at a joke, your spirits brightening slightly.
“Think of how much easier it Will be to style!” Clint calls from his spot on the couch, too lazy to get up with everyone else. You smile and nod some more, your spirits rising by the minute.
“Come on,” Tony offers you his arm, giving you a little smile. “I’ll drive ya to the best hair salon I know,” you bite your lip, looking to
Your frayed ends and to his hand hesitantly. You knew you needed to cut your hair, it was beyond dead and it needed this, plus you wouldn’t have to listen to anymore jokes from any of the avengers anymore, it was a win win…right? You sigh shakily and take Tony’s arm, almost immediately regretting it when he dragged you down the stairs and to the lobby, demanding some fancy car from Friday to pick them up.
"So, what we’re you thinking of getting?“ Tony asks as his car pulls around, stopping right before you two. He opens your door for you and closes it once you slide in before rushing around to his side to get in.
"Um…something really short…I was thinking pixie cut short?” Tony looks at you with wide eyes, that same smirk playing at his lips.
“I’ll be damned kid, you’ve really put some thought into this?” You nod your head, biting your lip again.
"Yeah, yeah I have,“ you admit quietly. Tony smiles even more as he directs his attention back to the road, waiting for an opportune moment to pull out into traffic. "Well, I know just the hairdresser for you,”
You sat in the chair nervously while Tony stood beside you, smiling at you encouragingly as the hairdresser ran his fingers through your now wet locks.
"Hmm, so a pixie cut huh?“ You nod your head, squirming a bit in your seat. The man smile as he tilts
Your head, looking at you like some subject under a microscope. "I think I
Have the perfect look for you,"
"Don’t tell me,” you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head a bit. “I don’t wanna know…just- just do it,” you
Couldn’t believe you were saying these words but you were, they were coming from your mouth, you could feel them on your tongue. The man gives Tony a skeptical look but he merely smiles, giving him a nod to go through with it. With a sigh of hesitancy the hairdresser makes the first snip.
“So how does it look?” The hairdresser asks as he has you look in a mirror. It was short, so, so, so, so, so short but you did have to admit- you looked pretty damn good.
“I like it,” you smile, reaching up to run you hands through your now short and soft locks. “I like it a lot,”
“See, and you were scared ya big pansy,” Tony chuckles as e looks at you, an almost find twinkle in his eyes. “I’m
Proud of you kid, you did something really hard today,” you smile and blush, casting your gaze down toward your feet.
“It was just a haircut…” You mutter, smiling when Tony scoffed.
“Yeah, but how long have you been putting it off? And you got it cut so short too! I’m proud of you (Y/N)!” Tony beams as he pats you on the shoulder affectionately. “And as a reward for your bravery how ‘bout we go out and get some food, maybe buy you some new clothes to match your new hair?” You smile and nod, feeling much more confident in your hair already.
Semi-headcanon that dirt just kind of…appears on Bart. Like, she doesn’t even dislike being clean or taking showers once Ken teaches her the basics and not to swallow the shampoo, but she’s still always dirty within an hour after getting washed. They spend a week in a motel with a working shower without doing any hands-on killing and yet she’s absolutely filthy the entire time. No matter how many times she showers her hair is still a total rat’s nest. Ken is constantly like ‘Where is it all coming from?’ ‘Whose blood is that???’
also i believe in a conspiracy theory of sorts….well less conspiracy theory as in 4biddenknoweldge/alex jones more genuine concern based on evidenced patterns but i truly believe the culture of vaping being an uncool wet nerd loser 4chan virgin activity was culture strongly encouraged and propagated by tobacco industry psy-ops so young people wanting to quit and/or wanting a safe viable alternative to the rats nest smoking cigarettes entails were going to be met with derision mockery and scorn. *adjusts tinfoil vape pipe* just my two e-cig puffs
So you know how everyone headcanons Hux with a pet cat?
Techie needs a rat.
Sometimes rats builds nests behind his equipment where it’s warm, and at first he was terrified of them, scared they’d bite him or crawl over him in his sleep. But then one little one starts getting braver and braver, peeking around corners at him and darting away when he looks, then creeping back. He feeds it pieces and crumbs off what little he gets to eat- leaving them out at first, but then it starts trusting him enough to dart up and take them out of his hand. To hang around and sit on his desk, or sit still just long enough to let him pet it.
He talks to it while he’s working. It’s almost like having a friend.
Eventually it trusts him enough to sit on his shoulder and he sleeps with it curled up under his shirt where it’s warm.
on the one hand, im [hopefully] helping to clean up a pretty bad/toxic working environment right now for one of my teams
on the other hand, it’s so bad and toxic that me, my boss, and one other person are working on it, and to some extent i didn’t know but kinda knew (so like… intuited) that it was a bad situation but i figured it was being worked on so i didn’t look under the rock
I have this one with the oval head. I have long hair and terrible split ends, so my hair tangles up pretty nasty. This takes the knots out so gently - and I mean it brushes through the knot instead of just ripping a huge, tangled hair-ball from your head. It doesn’t tear or break my hair, it doesn’t hurt at all, and the bristles feel so nice on your scalp.
Kind of a silly post, but I just love a good hair brush that feels nice and is actually good to my hair.
Just had a plot bunny I probably won’t ever write wherein Dean is an electrician/plumber/some kind of contractor and Cas is trying to sell his deceased father’s house.
Chuck fancied himself a DIY type.
There’s a nest of rats chewing up exposed wires. Conduits dangling from a thread. Hacked splices everywhere. PVC bent hard enough to split the wires, and plastic wrap under the kitchen sink.
Dean sweats and curses and wears TyVek all the time. Cas worriedly peeks his head in with a tray of sandwiches. The sandwiches will get covered in plaster dust. Cas mentions some of his siblings helped their father work on the house and he can call them over if Dean has any questions and Dean trembles in fear. But despite being the client from hell, Cas isn’t so bad, and when he crawls under the house with a flashlight and comes out with his hair all disgusting Dean can’t help but think he’s a little cute, but then Cas wasn’t wearing anything under his TyVek because “it was hot” and hot daaamnnnnn
Anyways that’s what I get for hanging out on home repair blogs for too long
Request: Can you please do a Isaac brett or Derek one in youre sick series ❤️
Note: I chose to do Isaac because a lot of people have been asking for imagines with him in it. Plus, I just miss Lahey lol.
shrill, piercing doorbell rang in my ears as I laid on the couch. Groaning, I
pushed myself up and stumbled over to the front door, glaring through the
window to see who dared to disturb my misery.
Of course. Isaac. Who else?
“Hey.” He offered me a small smile.
“Hi,” I said in return, hands
automatically flying to my hair to try and tame the rats nest I was sure I was
sporting. “What are you doing here?”
“Stiles said that you were sick.” He
said simply. He held up a metal can. “I brought soup.”
Grunting a slight thanks, I waved
him inside, mumbling, “Let me go get changed. Just wait on the couch.”
“You don’t have to change.” Isaac
stopped me. “You look fine- I mean, for a sick person.”
I rolled my eyes. I highly doubted
his words. He was probably just being polite. More than likely I look like
something that crawled out of a shower drain and then died. “Right.”
Isaac padded over into the kitchen.
“Where do you keep your bowls?”
“Bottom shelf.” I responded, leaning
heavily against the doorway in an attempt to fight the crippling nausea I was
“So, what do you have? A fever,
“A stomach bug. Honestly, I’m
He snorted. “Tragic.”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t wish this on
anyone. Not even my worst enemy.”
Isaac snickered as he popped open
the can of soup with ease and dumped its contents into a bowl. “Well, hopefully
you’ll be able to keep this down. Are you thirsty? Do you want some ice water?”
“That would actually be great.
Thanks. Cups are on your right.”
Isaac quietly fetched two glasses
and filled them carefully. He passed me one, but my weak hands nearly dropped
it. Luckily, Isaac’s crazy good reflexes kept it from hitting the floor. “You
good?” He asked as I accepted the cup with two hands this time.
I cautiously took a sip. “Do you want to sit down? Maybe watch a movie?”
“I can’t stay long.” Isaac smiled
sadly. “I’ve got a Biology test today. I don’t really want to miss it. I just
wanted to come and check on you and make sure you were alright.”
My heart was pounding in my chest. I
was strangely dizzy, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the stomach bug or
Isaac. “That’s really sweet Isa-” I stopped talking suddenly, closing my mouth
and nearly sprinting for the bathroom. The stomach bug. Definitely the stomach
I was done, I brushed my teeth vigorously. Isaac stood in the doorway,
awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Are, um, you alright?”
“Now that I’ve got that nasty taste
out of my mouth? I’m definitely more than alright.” I gave myself the once-over
in the mirror. I looked like actual trash. But Isaac didn’t seem to mind.
“You know, I was thinking…” Isaac
started, leaning his shoulder on the door frame.
I gurgled some Listerine and spit.
Isaac’s face was red. “Well, I… I
don’t really want to leave you alone like this so… if the offer for the movie
is still available… I’d like to take you up on it.”
“But what about your test?” I
questioned, wiping my mouth off.
Isaac’s signature lop-sided smile
took up residence on his face. “I can make it up some other time. I’d much
rather look after you for the rest of the afternoon.”