#the bleached green was such a good colour on me

[androidghoulz]

me last year

[fingertipsmp3]

Is it just me who cannot figure out their colour season

[29121996]

.

[kindaasrikal]

Things the ninja fear, except they make zero sense:

Kai: I refuse to forget he’s afraid of elves. It’s a good thing Christmas doesn’t exist for them, he would NOT survive the groups of little kids dressing up as elves for it.

Zane: uneven floor tiles. They literally had one job and now he feels like pulling them out of the ground and putting them back in an organised pattern that fits. He has done this once before at the monastery at 5am and Wu had to, for the first time ever, hit him with his stick and tell him to go to bed.

Lloyd: Bunnies. Specifically ones with white fur and red eyes. It reminds him of Harumi and Garmadon a tad too much. And Akita. Every time it reminds him of Akita he actually just turns super depressed until he sees the red eyes and screeches onto the ceiling spider-man style.

Cole: bleach. He drank it as a kid, got caught, and was rushed to the hospital. He didn’t understand what was so serious but all the panic made him terrified of bleach, and most cleaning products that aren’t used for hygiene.

Nya: the colour yellow. Ironic, isn’t it?

(She once was in a house that was fully yellow as a child and couldn’t tell up from down and ended up sobbing like a baby. Kai had to sell all of the fully yellow things in their house.)

Jay: crocodile’s. He had a dream when he was younger about a crocodile in his parent’s bed eating them under the blanket and he never got over it. Best part was that it wasn’t gory or detailed or anything, it more cartoony of a dream, but nevertheless he has had a vendetta against crocodiles from that day on.

Edit: Bonus+

Morro: flowers. As a child Wu read him a story about an evil flower that first started the fear, yet when he left the monastery he was no longer afraid. It was during his travels to find out how to become the green ninja that the fear sprouted again. Due to multiple events. He once ate a poisonous flower. He once came across a corrupted flower that was bigger than a mountain and liked to eat stuff. He once came across a cemetery covered in deadly flowers. He once got force fed incredibly sweet flowers. And he once had someone give him a bouquet of flowers, except that person had no idea that this flower can give some people severe allergic reactions. Yeah. He is terrified when he’s near flowers. He likes those really small ones that grow on the ground though if that helps.

Garmadon: the light. He hisses like a vampire when too much light hits either his skin or eyes.

Wu: pitch black darkness. Best believe you’ll find him half transformed into a dragon and in a corner with a spear when the light comes back on.

Skylor: beards. They look like rats nests to her. Specifically ones on people with bad hygiene, she will automatically back away and get close to throwing up in fear if that thing comes near. After seeing Wu’s beard care routine (cause you have to have one with a beard that long) Skylor has accepted Wu to be one of the people that her fear doesn’t apply to.

Pixal: weird scratchy floors, they feel disturbing to her at first, but during her first few weeks alive she watched a movie about creatures coming out of those exact same scratchy floors and she has never been the same. She sits on Zane’s or Cole’s shoulders when they’re near some of those type of carpets.

This was supposed to be fears that didn’t make sense and then I made them all make sense.

Best part, Jay’s fear was me projecting. Number 1 crocodile hater right here.

[carmenized-onions]

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

[f0point5]

intro throughts

Logan being a little pookie, a bit like cute hamster, but he got BUFFED over winter break, wouldn't recognize him if compared to his first race last year

Kevin looking normal, would appreciate maybe a little bit from distance, having his face that close was almost uncomfortable, not bad though

Zhou looking good, I love his hair

appreciate Daniel just smirking, not actual wide smile that close to the camera, love his beard, gives "your daughter calls me daddy" vibe

Nico challenging his pose for future political career

Valterri and his mullet plus his highlighter green suit, not great not terrible, looks better with the bleached hair (at least in my opinion)

Yuki looking like a robot, sorry our Japanese sweetheart they did you dirty

Alex and his natural hair, appreciate it, plus loving the white suit

not gonna lie, that shot of Ocon did things to me that I'm not so sure about

Pierre looking like he wants to kill you (knowing how tall he is, it's how he would have to look up to me as well, makes it quite funny), great shot of his eyes

Lance... where did that hair come from man?!

Oscar, oh my adored Mr Koala. not a bad word about you (insert Kris Jenner's "you're doing great sweetie") - his eyes his neck his hair, consider me dead thank you

George's eyes look so huge there, for some reason he reminds me of The Boss Baby 😂 good thing he didn't do anything stupid or cringe-y this time

can we talk about how proportionally perfect Carlos is? also those eyes see to your very SOUL you perverts!

they did Lando dirty, kinda sad that they did him from afar

Charles being Charles. no other words needed

NANDOOOO! Grandpa of the grid looking amazing, whoever decided to use this shot deserves a raise

Lewis looking like he's preparing for a boxing match, but in a weirdly hot way

not sure about Checo, he stands there kinda like a 🧍🏻‍♂️, love his eyes though

and Max. oh mister please have a mercy with my poor heart, that little smirk and those eyes will keep me awake at night!

that's it, I'm done 😂

Logan did indeed bulk up. I keep seeing videos of him in the paddock and I’m like damn son you had a lot of steak over Christmas.

Don’t talk to me about Ocon. I’m going through something with him at the minute and I’m deeply ashamed.

Oscar is really having a moment. I hope it lasts all year.

They need to stop doing close ups of Daniel.

I liked Lando’s actually. He is a short king but he’s a cutie, and Orange is his colour.

Fernando has definitely had Botox or a chemical peel and he is looking incredible. INCREDIBLE.

Lewis looking kinda hot ngl he isn’t a bit of me but that promo really was.

The Ferrari boys and just models. You can’t even judge them against the rest of the grid they’re just beautiful. The way this team has the two best looking drivers and Red is their colour…I’m going to miss Carlos next year.

Max. That smirk is going to haunt me. In there very best way.

[madphantom]

hiyaaa, hope you dont mind, but super randomly just popped into my mind, but how's your hair doing? i remember you bleaching it and how it turned blue or green or sth from it and i kinda had a crisis over it on your behalf, and then you had red like back in march, you still rocking that? also how much breakage are you fighting on a scale from one to ten?

not asking in a werid way, u just quit fashion colour due to employment™ and a lack if confidence against people judging®, so now I'm just invested in strangers' hair as a replacement

also please feel free to ignore me if you want !!

Aiiii I love asks remembering things about my personal posts!!

After the big bleach nightmare my hair was damaged as fuck, so I cut it shorter in the front, but then I kinda wasn't satisfied with how that looked so I just gave myself a bob. I immediately proceeded to regret this because cutting your own hair without a mirror during what could best be described as some sort of manic outburst never goes well and it looked bad, so I dyed it neon green.

The green was fucking gorgeous and long lasting so I ended up keeping it for a record time of three months while I was trying to grow back the unlucky bob, however I was in a movie in February and the director asked me to go blonde for it, so I went back to blonde.

Unfortunately my roots just looked incredibly yellow in contrast to the white hair I'd given myself previously ("like piss on fresh fallen snow" to quote my friend who soon after this quote became my boyfriend, do not make any judgement about my taste in men based on this fact), so immediately after the shoot I went to my trusty hair care store five minutes before closing time and grabbed some red dye.

The red was super cool? One of my top colours. It had this orange hue in the sun and gave off major Ziggy Stardust vibes. My hair had also grown out a bit again so I gave myself a rockstar shag and vampire bangs. However, it faded at crazyyy speeds and the faded colour was just this vague salmon and did not look good, so I switched to a more bluish red.

Well, at least according to the package. The shade was called poppy red. My bestie described it as venomous milipede pink. Cool colour, undoubtedly, but not quite my vibe. I did however briefly rock the faded pink with some bold red highlights. That looked cool.

Then I switched to turquoise! I had that colour last summer and got rid of it because I was photographed at a protest by a nazi with it and got scared to be easily recognizable. Back then I got this faded red hair because I wanted a colour that felt safe and the guy comforting me after the bad experience had faded red hair. My future boyfriend by the way, hi :) I currently have that turquoise hair and it's cool, but I'm heavily debating going lavender again. We'll see what my impulse control says:)

As for breakage: I religiously use conditioner at the moment, and as long as I stay in my hometown my hair is in perfect condition. I'm not sure what happens when I visit my boyfriend, the humidity is probably different in his hometown or something but it tangles like hell there. But all in all, 7/10, good hair:) thanks for your ask:)

[nickeverdeen]

Request for a arcane/pjo/spiderverse/marvel matchup (platonic or romantic, I don’t really have a preference for it) :]

Hi! So I’m genderfluid but lean fem presenting, and use they/them pronouns. I’m aroace (romance positive/neutral, sex repulsed). My main hobbies include writing, drawing, and some martial arts (taekwondo and kickboxing specifically, but I’m trying to branch out to maybe Krav Maga or BJJ).

My interests vary, like, a lot but the stuff right now are poisonous plants and animals (jellyfish and manchineel trees specifically), the usages of mushrooms to make reusable building materials and vines as piping materials in order to create sustainable cities, BSD, f1, history in general, old-times weapons (SWORDS. So, so many swords), Sky:CotL, the 1983 revolution of Burkina Faso (real specific, sorry), and I tend to develop similar interests to people around me.

I’m an Aquarius and an INTP-T (last time I checked) with gifted kid syndrome and eldest daughter issues. I’m also Canadian and can’t stand hot climates what so ever and have social anxiety disorder and general anxiety disorder. I also play piano and most woodwind instruments and I know 2 (English, French) languages and am working on a 3rd (Italian).

Physically I’m 5,10-5,11 with pale skin and light freckles, brown-red, wavy hair that’s about a bob length in the back and has 2 longer pieces in the front as well as 2 bleached pieces. I’m plus-size and relatively muscular in my legs and shoulders (not so much in my torso and arms but eh) as well as kinda curvy. I’ve got large, slightly downturned hazel eyes and weird eyebrows but there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m looking to get some snakebites soon, as well as an industrial piercing in at least one of my ears.

My style leans between comfy stuff (jeans, hoodies, etc) and Edwardian era witch (dresses, witch hats, big leather sacs). I always wear docs and my favourite colour is green.

I don’t have a lot of preferences in other people tbh, everyone’s chill.

My favourite foods are beef barley stew, lemon meringue pie, and Ethiopian food as a whole (Chinese takeout from specifically Quality foods is the next best thing imo). I really like ovaltine and I have a few health issues that were still trying to figure out (iron deficiency + possibly pcos).

I’m not a cat or dog person, I love both don’t get me wrong, but I really like weird animals and I want a pet bear (not legal where I live or good for the animal sadly :[ )

I tend to be a bit abrasive and standoffish at first, and I can come off a bit bitchy but I swear I’m nice enough to people I care about—

———————

Idk if I did this right, sorry—

[ @scyphozoa-mancinella ]

You did it just perfect, cariño, don’t worry

——————

Your Arcane match is…

Violet

Vi would absolutely love sparring with you in taekwondo or kickboxing, and she’d probably challenge you to push your limits in Krav Maga or BJJ, giving you tips and encouragement

She’d respect your standoffishness and wouldn’t push you to open up, but she’d always be quietly watching out for you, especially if anyone messes with you

Vi would be genuinely interested in hearing about your knowledge on poisonous plants, sustainable cities, and history—she loves learning new things and would admire your vast interests

Since you’re both tough on the outside but soft towards those you care about, you’d have an unspoken understanding of each other, no need for a lot of words

Vi would get involved in your hobbies, whether it’s looking at cool swords or learning more about music and history, and she’d love that you pick up on her interests too

She’d take you to try new foods, always down to explore interesting cuisines like Ethiopian food with you

The weirder the dish, the more Vi would be into it

Vi would be into your mix of comfy and witchy clothes, and she’d probably steal your hoodies and Docs when you’re not looking

She’d love that you both have that “abrasive but secretly caring” energy and would feel comfort in knowing you don’t need constant attention but are there when it counts

Vi would push you to get stronger, especially in your martial arts, but she’d also encourage you to keep working on your creative passions like writing and drawing

She’d be there for you through your health struggles, offering quiet comfort and checking in on you without making a big deal out of it

Your PJO match is…

Thalia Beryl Grace

Credits: frostbite.studios

Thalia would immediately connect with your love of martial arts, and she’d probably challenge you to a friendly sparring match or two, admiring your skills

You and Thalia would geek out over ancient battles and old weapons, especially swords, and she’d love discussing historical revolutions with you, given her fascination with mythology and legends

Thalia would be up for exploring new places with you, especially if they involve nature or ancient ruins—she loves adventure and would appreciate your company

Thalia isn’t a touchy-feely person herself, so she’d fully understand and respect your need for personal space, never crossing any physical boundaries without your permission

Unless she were to get you out of danger’s way

She’d relate to your tough exterior and standoffishness and would respect you for standing your ground, knowing there’s a caring side underneath that not everyone gets to see

Thalia would love that you play instruments and would probably have you teach her a thing or two on the piano, especially since she’s musically inclined as well

Thalia would understand your anxiety and wouldn’t pressure you to socialize or do anything that makes you uncomfortable, always having your back in social situations

She’d enjoy your intellectual side and would be more than happy to engage in long conversations about poisonous plants, ancient battles, and anything else that piques your interest

Thalia would love your mix of comfy and witchy fashion and would probably show up in something equally cool, bonding over your shared appreciation for unique aesthetics

She’d be a quiet but solid support for you through your health struggles, never making a big deal of it but always being there when you need her

Your Spider-Man Across the Spiderverse match is…

Gwen Stacy

Gwen would love that you play piano and woodwind instruments, and she’d invite you to jam with her, teaching you some cool techniques on her drums

She’d be impressed by your martial arts skills and would probably ask you to teach her a few moves, as she’s always looking to improve her own physical abilities

Gwen would be super interested in your research on poisonous plants, sustainable cities, and historical revolutions, always listening intently and asking questions

She’d invite you on wild adventures around the multiverse, always keeping things exciting but respecting when you need a break or feel anxious

Gwen would love your unique style, especially the Edwardian witch vibes, and she’d always compliment your outfit choices, maybe borrowing your Docs for a day or two

As someone who also deals with her own issues, Gwen would completely understand your social anxiety and wouldn’t push you beyond your comfort zone, always being there to support you

She’d be mindful of your boundaries around touch and would wait for you to initiate any physical contact, whether it’s a high five or a hug

Gwen would love learning about your different hobbies and interests, especially anything related to history and weird animals—she’d even start reading up on them herself to understand you better

Gwen would be there for you through your health issues, always checking in and offering support when you need it, and she’d be a quiet but strong presence in your life

While Gwen loves adventure, she’d also know when to slow down and just hang out with you in a low-key setting, maybe watching cartoons or playing music together when life feels overwhelming

Your Marvel match is…

Shuri

Shuri would love your intellectual curiosity and dive into deep conversations about poisonous plants, sustainable building materials, and historical revolutions

She’d find your research fascinating and would love exchanging knowledge with you

Shuri would totally involve you in her lab experiments, especially when it comes to sustainable innovations like using mushrooms and vines in building materials

You’d work together on eco-friendly tech

She’d be super respectful of your need for physical space and never push you to be physically affectionate unless you’re comfortable

She’s good at reading those cues and would know exactly when to give you space

Shuri would love training with you and might even create some high-tech gadgets to enhance your martial arts, helping you with anything related to Krav Maga or BJJ

You and Shuri would constantly collaborate on creative projects, whether it’s designing new tech or discussing history and current innovations, pushing each other to think outside the box

Shuri would appreciate your interest in animals, especially the more unique ones, and she’d introduce you to the advanced wildlife tech she’s developed to help protect endangered species

Both of you have a sharp wit and a sarcastic streak, so there would be lots of playful banter between you two, but always in good fun

Shuri would invite you on amazing trips to explore new cultures, environments, and technological wonders

She’d definitely want you by her side for both adventure and learning

Shuri would appreciate your style and might even design some custom outfits for you that blend her Wakandan fashion sense with your witchy, Edwardian aesthetic

She’d be invested in helping you manage your iron deficiency and possible PCOS, possibly even creating tech to monitor and improve your health

Shuri would be deeply caring in her own unique way, always looking out for you

[freaking-jeepers]

taeyoung headcannons

i've recently been a bit obsessed with tae so i figured why not share some stuff with the class!

a whole bunch of bullet points below the cut...

a comfy clothes advocate. its not comfy? its not fashion. hoodies, big jackets, baggy overshirts; you name it, he wears it

speaking of, he lives in corduroy trousers. honestly, why be uncomfortable these days? he’s already got so much work to do

he also never wears black. he feels too edgy and out of place when he wears it. plus, that was t’s thing when they were thirteen

tae absolutely adores animals. yes, we know this. but you must understand: he LOVES them. he picks up stray birds, chases after foxes, talks to squirrels. growing up with a dog really brings something out in you

his favourite animals are bats though, closely followed by dogs. something about baby bats just gets to him

despite the whole 4town shabang, tae’s still an introvert. he doesn’t really like being the centre of attention, and it took almost their entire first tour to be somewhat okay on stage. why do you think he doesn’t have a single solo line in any of their songs?

he’s very upfront though. if someone’s out of line for whatever reason he won’t hesitate to present his thoughts. it’s not in a harsh way or anything, but he automatically announces a differing opinion, even if it’s just that someone thinks that minecraft is bad

yeah that’s right, he’s a gamer. he wouldn’t call himself good at video games but he grew up with a ds… and he plays a lot with z and jesse

tae bleaches his hair. yep. you heard me. that blonde is not his natural hair colour… kind of

tae’s hair is naturally brown with an assortment of random blonde strands. out of the band, aaron t is the only one to have seen this in person since tae’s been dyeing it since he was fourteen. t loved how it looked back then, but tae despised it, hence the bleaching (fanart coming soon i got you)

during that fourteen-year-old era, tae also dyed his tips bright pink… and he wants to die his hair green or blue one day

this man was a straight A student, like, he cried when he got a B in maths once and t got an A*

(using an english school system) tae took history, geography, german and psychology (and of course english, maths and sciences) in high school. english was by far his favourite subject, and he reflects his love for language through writing a lot of 4town’s lyrics

i'll probably do one of these for each of them!

[copperbadge]

sam! you mentioned having pink hair - do you do it yourself or get it professionally done? if the former, what dye do you use? thanks adhd dad

Yes! I do it myself -- I use Punky Colour, a UK brand that comes in little half-pint pots. If you're in the US you can get it from Amazon, but they also sell it at a lot of Ulta stores in the hair dye section, or a comparable brand like it. It's not that it's particularly better than any other dye brand, but if you have short hair it's multiple re-dyes in a single resealable package; artificial colors like pink don't last as long, generally speaking, so you need to re-dye fairly frequently. With pink I do it about once every two weeks, with blue or green it's basically once a week. I get one initial dye and four or five re-dyes out of a pot of Punky, and it's relatively inexpensive. (For folks who are about to recommend Overtone as a color-conditioner, feel free to talk about it, but I tried it and wasn't impressed -- as far as I could tell it didn't do anything.)

If you need to bleach before dyeing and/or have never dyed before, I would recommend starting out with a Splat kit. The Splat brand is sold in most grocery/drugstores, and often it comes as a full kit -- you get bleach, post-bleach conditioner, and a single application of dye, all in one package. It looks like something a fifteen-year-old would shoplift, but I can't deny that it works. Once you've worked with Splat once or twice, you'll have a good idea of how dye works with your hair and can branch out.

I've looked into getting it done at a salon several times, but every time I ask about it they want me to do a consultation with a colorist, which sounds like awkwardly wasted time when I know what I want, and generally they also try to convince me I should go for something more "natural". I'd take that somewhat amiss if I didn't know I look awesome with pink hair, which I know because I get tons of compliments from strangers when I have it. Lately I've found men in particular will compliment it and then ask me how/where I had it done -- I think there are a lot of men who would love to have brightly colored hair but don't know where to start. I come across as safe to ask because I don't have a lot of other...IDK what you'd call it, even, signifiers of something? I have no piercings or ink and I dress like I'm an accountant on vacation, so I think I seem like someone who won't scoff at them for not knowing.

Good luck! I hope you have fun with it. I definitely enjoy putting a little splash of color out in the world, especially in winter when everything's a bit grim.

[fishfingersalad]

The foretold fic of Connie and South helping Wash bleach his hair for the first time! Includes Wash and Lina as siblings.

Fic under the cut

Lunch was a rather boring affair with York away on a mission and North on shore leave with his sister. If you asked Wash who was more likely to come back injured, he couldn’t tell you. The man was abruptly jolted out of his musings by something slamming down onto the table in front of him.

“‘Sup loser”

Wash sighed and turned to the voice, “Hi South. I thought you were supposed to be Austria or something”

South dramatically threw herself down on the bench next to him, “Firstly, it was Australia, second, I got sent home early for an attempted assault of an officer,” She flipped her hair out of her face. “Thirdly you now owe me thirty dollars.”

“THIRTY DOLLARS??? What- I- Why??” 

“Thirty dollars Australian, not American, and,” she gently threw a plastic shopping bag onto the table, “I heard you were thinking about going blond”

Wash shot up so fast he almost fell off the bench “How do you know about that? You weren’t even in the room?? I don’t even think you were on the ship?!?”

South waved her hand ambiguously “You told Ohio who told Connie who told me, and I needed to pick up some dye to redo my tips anyway. So, wanna do your hair?”

Wash considered it for a minute. Getting hair products outside of shampoo while in space was hard, plus the only other people he knew who dyed their hair were Vera and Carolina. He’d listened to Vera complaining about getting chemical burns on her scalp so he didn’t exactly trust her skills, and asking Carolina for help seemed like a good way to end up on the training room floor. It looked like South was, unfortunately, his best bet.

He sighed, “Yeah, sure. Why not.”

A slightly manic grin spread across South’s face before she spun around and yelled across the mess hall, “HEY CONNIE! HE SAID YES!”

Connie turned and yelled back “WAIT REALLY?!”

“YEAH, GET OVER HERE! WE GOTTA DO IT BEFORE HE WIMPS OUT!”

Someone, probably Georgia judging by the voice, shouted, “SHUT THE FUCK UP ASSHOLES, I’M TRYNA EAT”

As he stared at the women's twin smirks, Wash got the feeling he may have made the wrong decision. He sighed, resigned to his fate. “Can I atleast finish my lunch first?”

Half an hour later saw Wash sitting on a bench in the women's showers wearing an old torn shirt he’d stolen from Maine. South was shaking a bottle with something blue in it, while Connie was gently finger combing his hair. Wash turned his head towards South, “Remind me why both of you need to be here again?”

South smirked again, “‘Cause I’ve been dying my own hair since I was like thirteen, and Connie knows how to cut hair so if we fuck up she can atleast make you look decent.”

Connie reached over to smack South on the arm, “I’ll have you know I used to bleach and dye my hair all the time. I probably have more experience with bleach than you, Miss natural blonde.”

Wash almost dropped the box of pink hair dye he was looking over, “Wait, seriously? You with coloured hair?”

Connie laughed, “Yes, seriously. I was really into scene and emo culture, I’ll show you some pictures sometime.”

South slammed the bottle on the sink a couple of times before going back to shaking it, “What like, teased hair, raccoon tail dye, all that?”

“Yep! Bright pink and green too.”

“No way!” South tilted the bottle a bit before walking over to Wash and Connie,“Heads up Wash, this is gonna smell like cat piss and itch a bit. If it starts burning, wash it out.”

“Wha-” His words were cut off by the odd feeling of a thick liquid on his hair. True to South’s word he felt a tingling feeling on his scalp, it was uncomfortable but not painful. He did have to resist the urge to scratch it as the blond woman rubbed it into his hair.

“Y’know,” South started, “We’re probably gonna have some leftover bleach, Wash’s hair is pretty short… Connie, how ‘bout we bring back the old hairstyle?”

“Are you asking if I wanna bleach some of my hair again?”

South shrugged, “I mean, why not? We’ve got all the materials.”

Connie pondered it a second before nodding, “Yeah sure, probably no raccoon stripes this time though”

“Hell yeah! Wash is just about done now.”

Wash suddenly zoned back in, “I am?”

“Connie, flick his cheek for me and then sit your ass down next to him so I can bleach yours” Connie happily obliged, “Wash, grab that plastic bag and put it over your hair”

Wash tilted his head, thinking maybe he heard her wrong “What? Why?”

“D’you wanna question me, or do you want your hair to be bleached properly?” Wash silently complied. “So, Connie, where do you want me to bleach?”

Connie eventually settled on bleaching the shaved part of her hair for the effect of, as South put it, ‘a sickass hot pink undercut’. The packaging said they had to wait half an hour before washing out their hair, none of them particularly felt like wandering around with plastic on their hair so the three of them were sitting on the tiled bathroom floor and gossiping. They were halfway through Connie telling them about how she accidentally walked in on Florida and Wyoming in a storage closet when the alarm on South’s watch went off.

The two of them with bleach in their hair went to separate stalls to rinse it out. Together, Wash and Connie turned to look at themselves in the mirror. 

Connie turned a little to look at her now blonde undercut from a different angle, “Y’know I think it looks good! How about you, Wash?”

Wash stared at his reflection for a second before turning to the third person in the room, “South”

“Yeah?”

“...”

“...”

“South, why is my hair ORANGE?!?” Connie tried to muffle her giggles for a moment before giving up and beginning to laugh so hard she had to gasp for breath.

“Well, Wash. You have dark hair. Like really dark. It's- pfft- it’s not gonna go blond in one round of bleaching”

Wash looked at her, his face full of betrayal, “We have to do this AGAIN?”

South just shrugged “I mean, I thought we might. There’s a reason I bought two boxes of bleach.”

“We should- we should wait another- pffft- another day or two before bleaching it aga- again” Connie was just about rolling on the floor.

“I’M GONNA HAVE ORANGE HAIR FOR A FEW DAYS?!?”

“Awww cheer up Wash,” South punched his shoulder, “You’ll be right”

Wash just pouted at her.

Two days later, the three of them were back in the bathroom, rinsing out their hair again. The girls hair with pink dye, Wash’s with a second round of bleach. Wash was hesitant about looking in the mirror, but both the girls' hair looked amazing, and Connies assured him that his did too. Taking a deep breath, he turned to his reflection. It looked… familiar. He felt a gentle smile come over his face. A hand reached out and ruffled his hair “Seems like you like it, if that dopey grin is anything to go off of”

Wash whacked the hand, “Oh piss off South.”

The woman shrugged and smiled her crooked smirk, “If it’s too yellow I can always message North to pick up some toner”

“No, no, it’s good! Yours is too.” As Wash was talking, Connie reached over to fluff his hair. “What is it with you guys and my hair!”

Connie stuck her tongue out at him, “You wear your helmet all the time! We hardly ever get to see it!”

All three of them snapped their heads towards the door as it was thrown open. Carolina walked in and paused for a second before noticing the three by the mirrors. 

“You three, what are you- Wash? Why are you in the women's bathroom? I-” You could practically see the moment her brain processed what she was seeing,“South, Ct, could you two… give us a minute?”

“Sure thing boss,” South saluted her sarcastically before clapping Wash on the shoulder, “Try not to die, Rookie.”

The door closed behind the women as they left, most likely to try and eavesdrop.

Carolina looked almost shocked, she briefly reached out her hand towards him before dropping it again, “Your- your hair, it’s-”

“D’you… like it?”

“You look… you look just like mom…”

Wash reached up a hand and ran it through his still drying hair, “Yeah that was kinda my intention. Dad’s gonna hate it.”

“Dad hates everything, I wouldn’t worry about that,” She sighed and looked away for a moment before walking over to lean against the sinks next to him, “It suits you y’know?”

Wash leant his head against Carolina's shoulder, “Thanks, that- that means a lot.”

She gently ruffled his hair, “Yeah, I know. I know.”

[melanie-ohara]

A Hunt for Gold

Whumpuary2024, Bonus Day - Prompt: Flinching

Shin struggles to find her place with Sabine and Ahsoka

That's right, there's more! At this point I am mostly just using the prompts, this doesn't technically count as a challenge entry

AO3 Here

Sabine sat at the desk in Huyang's workshop and carefully soldered the powered plates back into her beskar's harness. She was right: the damage was too severe to be properly repaired and unless she could somehow build a forge out of twigs and shrubbery she couldn't reclaim the metal to start again. The remnants might give her enough protection from a glancing blaster bolt, but that was it. She had patched it together as best she could, and for now its appearance reminded her a little too much of Thrawn's reanimated storm troopers. She shuddered at the image. A new paint job would hide the scars, at least. Only her helmet and vambraces were still intact enough to stand up to a lightsaber - but now that Shin had started to settle in on the ship - uneasily, but it was a start - she wasn't sure how much she needed to worry about lightsabers any more. Sabine leaned back in the chair and her hand dropped to rest on her stomach, above the stab wound Shin had gifted her when they first met. Now we match, she thought to herself. 

"I want to dye my hair."

Sabine jumped at the sound of Shin's voice. She had been so wrapped up in herself, she didn't even notice the door opening. Now that Shin had properly recovered from the surgery and didn't need the compression vest any more she had started wearing whatever she could find that was clean, which today was most of Sabine's training clothes with one of Ahsoka's robes draped artlessly over the top for warmth.

"Um… okay," she said, taken aback. 

Shin paused and looked down at the workbench and Sabine's armour. "You're busy," she said, and turned to go.

"No," Sabine said quickly, standing up. "I have time, I mean." Shin didn't like being cooped up and it was rare to catch her in such a good mood. She was quickly learning to make the best of them.

"Your armour," Shin said, but Sabine waved her hand dismissively. 

"It can wait." Shin stepped aside so Sabine could leave the room and lead the way back to her cabin. "Are we just bleaching your roots, or did you have a colour in mind?" 

Shin touched the braid that hung down over shoulder, her fingers playing over the gemstones woven into it. "Green," she said.

Shin sat in the chair at Sabine's desk and talked more about how she wanted it to look while Sabine mixed the dyes and loaded them into applicator capsules for her spray tool. She got to work on her dark roots first. Shin shuddered a little as the first puff of cold pigment made contact with the top of her head and tensed as Sabine gently combed it in, but she settled in after a moment and let her work.

"What's with the gems?" Sabine asked, to distract herself from the strangely intimate feeling of carefully brushing bleach-white into Shin's hair. 

"Baylan gave them to me," Shin said. "I didn't know what they were at first."

Sabine watched the teeth of the comb part Shin's hair and slip easily through the strands. "And what are they?"

Shin didn't answer for a long time, and Sabine saw her hand travel up to the crystals again. She rolled one between her finger and thumb for a while like she was thinking. "Something he gave up."

Sabine let her have the cryptic answer and backed off. She knew Shin didn't really like talking about Baylan - his leaving hurt much more than her stomach wound, and Sabine didn't want to push her. Instead, she slid the bleach dye out of her spray tool, replaced the nozzle and picked up the cartridge of green dye. She passed Shin a towel to put over her shoulders to protect the tank top she was wearing, though it belonged to Sabine and she wasn't too worried about it getting a burst of colour. With anyone else, Sabine might have draped the towel herself, but Shin didn't like to be touched.

"I'm surprised you're letting me do this," she said, and immediately wished she'd kept it to herself.

"Why?"

Sabine shrugged and fiddled unnecessarily with the settings. "I just… well, you don't like being touched, that's all."

Shin said nothing, and Sabine cleared her throat awkwardly. Just get on with it and shut up, she thought to herself, and started to carefully coat the lower strands of Shin's hair with a faint mist of green. She hadn't dyed hair this way since before the war, when she had given herself a purple ombré in the Ghost's refresher. Hera had been furious at the mess, but she had a lot more experience now - as well as better tools. While the dye was still wet, she back-combed it quickly but carefully into Shin's hair, varying the lengths of her strokes so the dye reached higher in some places than others, so the fading colour didn't look too neat. That had been her own idea: Shin was too wild for the Coruscant-salon perfect look Sabine had been trying for as a teenager. 

Working on Shin's hair felt like painting. Like art. There was the same connection she felt to the canvas and the paint, only this time it was a living, breathing person under the hissing tool. She wanted to touch her, and comb her hair with fingers instead. To rub the dye into individual strands, one by one, until it was exactly how she envisioned it.

"I don't mind you," Shin said suddenly. It had been at least five minutes since either of them had last spoken.

"Sorry?" 

"Touching." Shin's hands were in her lap and twisting over each other awkwardly. "It's okay, if it's you."

Sabine almost dropped the spray tool, and she was glad Shin was facing away and couldn't see the blush on her face. "Oh," she managed dumbly, and then, "good." 

"Yes," Shin said. "Otherwise my roots would still be showing."

Sabine wasn't sure if it was a joke - Shin delivered every word with the same inflection, whether it was a death threat or asking for a drink - but she let out an awkward chuckle. She brushed at Shin's hair a few more times, and then put her tools down to examine her work. 

"How do I look?" Shin asked, shaking her hair out and then rolling her neck to ease the tension from sitting still for so long.

Sabine stepped out from behind the chair and looked at her. "Beautiful," She said. It was the truth - the green highlights had an ethereal gleam amongst the pale blonde that made her eyes shimmer and her skin shine. The pale flush her words brought to her cheeks made for a very pretty contrast too. Sabine shook herself and picked up a hand-mirror to show Shin the back, and she nodded approvingly. Her oh-so-rare, oh-so-endearing smile spread on her lips and it was so infectious Sabine couldn't help smiling back.

"I like it," Shin said. 

Before she had even thought about it being a bad idea, Sabine had leaned over her head and gently placed a kiss on Shin's forehead. She flinched like Sabine had just slapped her and almost tripped over her feet in her rush to get out of the chair and then out of the room.

"Wait!" Sabine called out, but by the time she had followed her out Shin had disappeared down the ship's ramp and into the Noti camp below. She was about to run after her when Ahsoka cleared her throat. Sabine hadn't even noticed her, but she was once again standing in the doorway of her room. 

"Trouble?" she asked, one of her not-quite-eyebrows raised. 

Sabine made a face and awkwardly clasped her hands in front of her. "I may have done something," she admitted.

"Like what?" 

Sabine braced herself. "Like kiss Shin."

She didn't know exactly how she expected Ahsoka to react. Anger seemed unlikely, but not disappointment or frustration. She had taught her the Jedi code, and how it forbade attachment, and Sabine knew this looked like another of her arrogant rebellions. 

Ahsoka smiled with a strange, almost knowing look in her eyes. "Are you going after her?" she asked.

Sabine frowned. "You're not… annoyed?" she asked. "The code - "

"My Master was married," Ahsoka interrupted. "His Master had a son nobody knew about, and I… well, let's not go into that now."

"Oh, we're going into that now," Sabine said, a little stunned by the idea that the stoic Ahsoka Tano might have dalliances in her past. 

Ahsoka shook her head. "Not now." There was a hint of sadness in her gaze that convinced Sabine to drop it. Instead she dropped into a chair at the centre table and put her head in her hands with a sigh.

"I scared her off," she said, pulling her head up to look at Ahsoka. "I don't think she'll want to see me." 

Ahsoka pushed herself off from the doorframe and started towards the exit ramp. 

"Whoa, hey!" Sabine said, getting up like she was going to stop her somehow. "What are you doing?"

Ahsoka didn't say anything, just dropped down off the ramp to the ground below.

*

She thought Shin might have walked off, maybe down towards the river or out towards the mountains, but Ahsoka instead found her sat almost exactly in the middle of the Noti camp. They had all shut up their pods and powered them down, making her seem like the only living thing for miles around.

"Everything okay?" Ahsoka asked as she approached.

"They're all afraid of me," Shin said. Ahsoka looked around at the deserted camp and nodded a little. The Noti had locked themselves in as soon as they saw her.

"You were trying to kill them not long ago," she pointed out as she sat down next to her.

"Not them," Shin said. "That was the bandits. I only wanted Sabine."

Ahsoka looked across at her, taking in her new hair colour and the regret in her pale eyes. "Well you've got her now," she said. "Maybe not the way you expected."

"I didn't mean to run," Shin admitted. She picked at the scrubby ground in front of her and sighed. "I wish I didn't." 

Ahsoka resisted the instinct to lay a hand on her shoulder, the way she would have done for Barriss all those years ago. "This isn't training," she said. Though she wasn't sure how Baylan had brought up his padawan, she knew he was a dyed-in-the-wool temple Jedi, and suspected he had driven her just as hard as Anakin had her. Or Luminara had Barriss. "It's hard to see at first, but it's different." 

"I don't know what you mean," Shin said. 

"You don't have to push yourself," Ahsoka explained weakly. She was not the person to be giving this talk, and she could imagine the infuriating way Anakin would smirk at her inability to communicate. "Whatever is between you and Sabine isn't a challenge to overcome, it's not… a trial to endure." Ahsoka sighed. "I'm no good at this," she admitted. 

"No," Shin agreed, and Ahsoka smiled. Her honesty was refreshing, and reminded her not to try and make everything a lesson.

"Sabine doesn't want to rush you," she said. "She just doesn't know how not to rush herself."

Shin plucked a blade of grass and flicked it away. "I don't know how to feel this way," she admitted. "It's never happened before."

Ahsoka felt a sad smile creep over her face. She knew how that felt: there had been nothing in her training to prepare her for how it felt to see Barriss smile at a joke, and her training was all she knew. Before she had understood it, everything had changed. "Sabine knows," she said. "And you'll get the hang of it."

Shin stood up and stretched. "I'm going for a walk," she announced. "Tell Sabine…" 

She trailed off, unsure, but Ahsoka nodded. "I will," she said. 

Shin stared off at the ship for a while, and Ahsoka wondered what she was thinking behind her glassy, green-blue eyes. Without another word, she turned away and walked off. 

[thesecondface]

2017: I am eighteen. the night is young yet but the club is closing. somehow with eight limbs in my field of view I stumble over to an asda, buy boxed bleach, and get to; time has no sway on me but the jagerbombs have prompted unprecedented action. I wake up the next morning and in the cold light of sobriety realise that I have only bleached the hair that I can see when facing a mirror — that is to say, there is a party in the front and business in the back. my parents just so happen to be visiting me that day. pin drop silence in the car as they take in the ginger monstrosity. so begins the era of florid hair colours; pink, orange, unintended swamp green.

2024: I am twenty five. same me, different university. the last of the bleach has disappeared perhaps two years prior; a metre of growth and a return to black. the bleach beckons. I ignore it because I am no longer eighteen and stupidly drunk, and if I am to bleach my hair I will not do so in the bathroom at 2am. eventually I cave and get highlights, professionally, and at a parlour. I am pleased with the hair; truly it looks good, but there is an unhappy thought scratching around the inside of my skull: I am not truly satisfied. the itch grows. the hair lightens, as it does when one spends enough time in the sun, and washes too much their hair. the itch grows. I somehow buy a box of hair dye in raspberry pink. somehow it finds its way onto my desk and stares at me while I work for three days. no, I tell myself; do this properly: but the itch is THERE and the dye is THERE and 2am strikes and all of a sudden I am eighteen again and it's the same me in another dorm room, and I rip open the package and one thing leads to the next and I am now pink of hair.

anyways the itch is GONE and this is happiness and I am GLEE and it's now 3am and I have pink hair and all my bedding is white and I'll have to bag the hair up because indeed I have not thought this through but. happy :)

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

okay my little cretins,

I’m planning to get my hair coloured—again. I have black-brownish hair so usually I get lighter foliage over them.

now this is my usual hair color—like chocolate brown with lighter caramel highlights.

but, I’m thinking of doing smth drastic now. I can’t cut my hair because I love long hair and I have bangers long and wavy hair. So, I’m thinking of a statement hair color lmao. Also, i don’t think the current hair color is gay enough and I need the new one to be very loud—very gay.

So, I’ve boiled down my options to shades of pink. Or lilac. I considered green as well but didn’t like it very much.

this is a fave of mine. But since I have dark hair, I’ll need a lighter base like brown or blonde and get this over it. So it’ll be slightly brownish-pink but with a 80-20% ratio (80 being pink).

so vote my babies thankkkksnsnsjsjjs

P.S. I’m brown. So, pink is quite difficult to put on. But I might just risk it jjjsbsjsj

[bzedan]

I felt very smart starting this list with 'Golden Brown' by The Stranglers and ending with 311's 'Amber'--it's fall colours!! And what leaves think it's fall have turned (there's still plenty that insist they've plenty of time to hold green here). I don't have much to say on this one - it feels like fall, all stops and starts and changes and unexpected blazes.

Related media to some of the songs:

'Música da Lagoa' is a delight I encountered thanks to a Tumblr post, the video of it being played in a river/pond is a joy.

I listened to 'He Needs Me' several times before I realised that before I'd heard The A's perform it I'd first heard it from Shelly Duvall in the 1980 film Popeye. If you've never seen this wild wonder, it looks like it is currently available on both Hoopla and Kanopy in the US, which many library cards give you free access to.

I feel like I've for sure mentioned Centaurworld here, it's a two-season complete story musical animated portal fantasy about a warhorse and it's one of my favourite shows of recent years. If you've got Netflix, it looks like it is still available, which is nice when so many small wonderful shows get shuffled out of libraries too quickly. Anyway, it's got a lot of voice actor joys in it overall, especially if you're a modern musical theatre nerd.

Have I talked about Dead on a Sunday before? The lead singer sounds like Bob from Bob's Burgers and they lean into it sometimes, but also they're just a good emo trash band.

Anyway here's a link to September's playlist on Spotify, with the track list below the cut.

And embedded if you like that:

'Golden Brown' - The Stranglers

'Baby No More' - Anjimile

'Spinning' - Pom Pom Squad

'Dog With A Bone' - Pony Talk

'Dammit (After Dark)' - Dead On A Sunday

'Pamela' - Ellie Bleach

'He Needs Me' - The A's

'The Perfect Dress' - Bart Graft

'Heart Of Glass' - The Surfrajettes

'Dance Hall Days' - Wang Chung

'Take It to Your Grave' - Urban Heat

'I'll Tumble 4 Ya' - Culture Club

'Nunca Volveré A Amar' - Dead On A Sunday

'Here's The Thing' - Fontaines D.C.

'Just What I Needed' - The Cars

'Sacrilege' - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

'Couldn't Get It Right' - Climax Blues Band

'So Destroyed (Channeling Rage Peace)' - Prince Rama

'How Does The Story Go?' - SPRINTS

'Let's Get Creative' - Yo Gabba Gabba

'Fantasy' - Tall Juan

'The Hero of My Story (Comfortable Doug)' - Flula Borg

'Leave It Open' - Kate Bush

'Take Me - Make Me Lose Control' - Carol Douglas

'Soft Spot' - Claud

'Awful' - Hole

'Street Fighter' - Pom Pom Squad

'NEW MOON (DARK PHASE)' - Duran Duran

'Dance Wiv Me - Live At The iTunes Festival / 2013' - Dizzee Rascal

'A Horse With No Name (CYRIL Remix)' - America

'Música da Lagoa' - Hermeto Pascoal

'Amber' - 311

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

I love your mind, your funkobra headcanons are making me lose it I’m obsessed

hi!!!! oh my god that makes me so happpy <3 here, i will do some more just for you :)

this kind of ties in to what i said before about kobra loving history, i think he collects Stuff™️ from before the world went all… yeah. especially coins and stuff, currency fascinates him, because it’s so different to carbons.

^ one time ghoul asks about them and so he breaks it down for him. all the president stuff is really confusing to ghoul, like why are there guys on the money 🤨 who are they 🤨

they play games in tommy’s, there’s a running challenge of who can shoplift in the most interesting way without getting caught. there have been mechanical contraptions brought into that store. tommy suspects Something but can’t prove it.

kobra’s secretly really good at singing, and one time ghoul hears him and melts into a puddle.

ghoul can knit. isk why. i just look at him and go “someone give this mfer a craft project. as a treat.”

one of kobra’s nervous habits is flicking his lighter on and off, one of ghoul’s is pulling his eyelashes out. he also chews on his hair. Creechure <3

when kobra gets his period, its bad. like, bad. he has to lie in the bedroom in the Complete Dark and Silence for like four full days.

ghoul has really really long hair, like to his waist. i think ive said this before, but kobra braids it!!! kobra braids it!!!!!!!!!

with their old movie pile and makeshift tv, i think ghoul really likes musicals. i think his favourite would be crybaby. idk why.

kobra an’ pois are totally city born in my mind, i think they escaped when kobra was like seven and pois was like ten.

ghoul on the otherhand, zoneborn. so’s jet.

and i reckon that means that kobra doesn’t know some stuff, like what’s in death valley and why dracs never go to the spot in zone six where the diner is, and a bunch of stuff about the witch and DESTROYA that zone kids get taught like immediately.

that’s also why kobra’s way more lax about worshipping the phoenix witch, most zoneborns are Super Intense about it [including ghoul and jet] whereas city borns tend to take it less seriously.

they paint eachother’s nails all the time. and help dye eachother’s hair. kobra sticks with the bleach all the time, but ghoul can’t go a week without dying it a different colour. he likes black with a lot of different stripes and stuff.

ghoul gets really clingy, like he’ll just hug kobra like a koala and not let go.

ghoul just Drinks Things. like strange green glowy liquid? in my mouth please. he has radium poisoning.