#Just reminder that Pepper is probably in NYC the least of other places. You are more likely to run into her LA or SF or NJ than NYC.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

you wanna write with pepper....

SO YOU WANT TO INTERACT WITH PEPPER POTTS IN HER MAIN CANON // Given that Pepper's company Resilient is based in Seattle, Washington, she is not readily available in New York based folk, that's not to say that she doesn't travel there for work but not often enough that she feels the need to own a car there. Typically, speaking Pepper is in Seattle and the West Coast if you needs to find her.

For reference to know where Pepper is, in order of how often she is there;

Resilient Headquarters + Pepper's primary home -> Seattle, Washington

Satellite Laboratories -> Paramus, New Jersey

Resilient Technology Junkyard -> Los Angeles, California

Visiting step son -> San Francisco, California

Secondary Offices + Stark business -> Manhattan, NYC, New York

wherever her media company she owns is based

idea borrowed from @/overclocks & @/involuntaryspy

YOU WORK IN CITY PLANNING // Resilient does play a part in rebuilding cities as well a building cities (ignoring the track record of those cities falling, not Resilient's fault; we can not control what happens after it is built), so if you are looking into rebuilding a city or building a city with energy efficiency and the use of Stark-patented repulsor tech, you will want to be in contact with Resilient and program proposals of this scale always lead to meetings with Pepper. Examples of these cities that formerly were was an improved version of the City of Asgard called Asgardia, and The Troy formerly known as Mandarin City.

YOU ARE LOOKING FOR WORK // Pepper's a bit of a micro-manager in that she does run oversight in the hirings that happen in the Resilient's R&D, this may have to do with the fact that one of their dear friend and employee was replaced by a spy. Additional departments that Pepper oversees who Resilient is working with in terms of marketing and P.R., as they have worked with the bad seed Marc Kumar in freelance PR before. This would be if you are looking for tech specific work or are looking for PR/marketing work.

INTERNSHIPS? // Now in the terms of internship, there are paid position available to which Pepper does not oversee internships typically (now that is not to say that certain individuals, friends of tony or tony, can try to pull a few strings with Pepper and get a kid they knew an internship or even shadow her (it better be a damn good deal)

YOU REMEMBER... THAT. HIM. // No you don't, and you definitely don't remember some Tony Stark-Gone Bad in a Silver suit infecting people with Extremis... Now if you were so happened to have been affected by these events, and possibly remember, than there may be means of compensation or more specifically need assistance in getting your life back on track. This happens all out of Pepper's own personal pocket and you will not say anything more about this; no need to thank her either. She's happy to undo the wrongs done and help. (its just painful)

YOU ARE CALLING BECAUSE OF TONY STARK // This is a risky option, because of the fact, that Tony Stark as a subject is very touchy for her. That's her best friend, that's the cause of a lot of pain in her life as well. If her and Tony are on good terms, well that's great and we should keep it that way. If they are outside of each others' orbits, it's a risk but if you want anyone to tell you like it is, than she's your girl. You need advice about working with Tony, or you've ran into a problem with Tony Stark and you need help, like serious help, and you chose the risky option. He's probably dead again, or broke, or some forms of indisposed and who has done more for Tony Stark at the cost of her own sanity than Pepper Potts? SSo you call her because you know she can save Tony Stark, or more importantly protect the legacy of Iron Man, want to keep that out of harmful hands. You will be responsible for damages for pulling Pepper Potts back into Tony Stark's orbit and shadow.

YOU NEED AN IRON SUIT // Not to have for yourself, she does not in fact do that, or loan anything. Rhodey wasn't available, Riri wasn't available (although she is a kid you should leave her alone and not be the first option) and Tony is definitely not available. She does have Rescue, and she's been around the superhero block a few times. Whose the woman who beat Whitney Frost and wore her mask to break Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill out when Tony was going brain dead on the run from Norman Osborn? PEPPER POTTS. Now her suit, specifically does not come equipped with inherent offensive weaponry, but Tony has decked her out with plenty of enhancements and features. She's even ran a team of superheroes called The Order, as their HERA to The Pantheon. YOU are responsible for any grievances she may have, as she really should not be your first choice, but the good news about her is that she likes plans, and will follow orders, and typically wants to do good in the world and help people.

CRISIS -> SEARCH AND RESCUE // Whatever city she may be in at the time; home base is Seattle Washington, she's in Los Angeles and San Francisco California often, and on the rarer occasions she is back east in NYC. Rescue typically comes with her; enough has happened to her that she's got her suit somewhere near enough by, that she will suit up and aid in crisis scenarios by evacuating civilians, and assisting in search and rescue efforts; which aftermath wises does typically lead to Pepper Potts providing aid through Resilient in city repair and contributing free energy sources when she can.

YOU HAPPEN TO BE IN SEATTLE AND YOU WANT LUNCH // If you show at Resilient offices, and ask if Pepper Potts has taken her lunch yet, the answer may possibly or probably be no unless she's had a business luncheon alredy, but if Pepper hasn't taken a personal lunch yet the receptionists may simply schedule you in for a lunch with Pepper if only because it will get her out of her office or second office (yes she did get the bed at the office replaced; don't judge, she's a very hands on ceo, artifact of being a former very hands on executive assistant to tony stark). she will pay for the lunch too and just accept that you are suddenly in her schedule for the day.

YOU NEED SPARE PARTS // You need to scavenge for spare parts from the Resilient Technology Junkyard, and Pepper happens to be at her Los Angeles offices, and you run into her trying to scavenge, if you are there without permission you will be removed; there are legal means upon which you can access the junkyard and pull what you want from there. (don't worry she's already removed everything that could be dangerous and anything that tony stark has personally developed and still under an airtight patent)

YOU NEED THE MEDIA // You need the media, you need to get something out there, or you need to drown something else. Pepper still in fact owns one of the largest media companies on Earth. This is a very risky option for you; normally pepper stays uninvolved with this company unless she has to step in to toss out bad applies. This is your nuclear option, because Pepper will warn you that if you need a specific story published and pushed out to everyone? She is going to have people dig into you, into your life and history, and into whatever your situation is because she has accepted the power how media can impact and control the world, and if she's pushing out a story; she wants to be as certain as she can it's not rotten and going to spoil the bunch. So be prepared, but she can control the media and help with your PR, image, or get a vital story out.

YOU ARE ONE OF TONY'S MENTEES // Now she doesn't know under what illusion she has become the Iron Mama, co-parent or co-mentee to you by extent that you'd chosen Tony Stark or been taken under Tony's wing; they seriously need to have a talk about this, return her calls; but here she is. You've got Pepper Potts, sometimes known as Rescue, with her heel in the both worlds, to give you advice, remind you are in fact a kid, and help you out as best that she can. Typical rule of thumb? If it is going to hurt people or endanger more lives or you are a minor and it risks your life, than don't do it. If Tony Stark/Iron Man would do it, than maybe don't do it either. That isn't to say that Tony doesn't have his moments and gives good advice. She's not here to cancel out his mentoring, it's come to her attention that everyone thinks she's substitute teacher in Tony's absence or the co-parent to this deal you have with Tony.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 13

first time readers click here 💖

TWs/Summary: In this house, we ship Reader/Tony's Rolls-Royce. Reader and Tony being dorks on a date. That's it that's the chapter. Lots of sass and Tony being Tony.

A question for my readers: Are you still invested? How's the slow burn? Is everything realistic? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

As usual, my beta is @miscmarvelwritings . I love her.

"Nice digs, Cupcake."

"Nice ride, Tin Man."

The sass fell from my lips, warm and familiar, paving the way for our upcoming debut like the old, soft living room rug. Any awkwardness I had expected there to be left the moment I saw Tony pull up to my front gate in his Royce: the man was just that extra. The size of my estate, the five-figure outfit of mine - it paled in comparison to his own clout. 

In a world where my choices were usually distributed between stuck-up rich boys or insecure middle-class men, Tony was a fresh drink of water with his absolute indifference towards my and his own net worth.

I wasn't afraid to admire said ride, either. Being a huge petrolhead was what got me interested in engineering, physics and computer sciences in the first place. The desire for speed grew into thirst for knowledge: how to get more horsepower, how to tune, how to mod. No mechanic took an eighteen year old rich-girl seriously even when I had all the lingo right, I had to be a step ahead, at all times, if I wanted my ride to be the best. And I never settled for less than that.

"No driver?" I inquired for the reason behind the unusual behaviour. After all, a Rolls' wasn't the kind of car you drive personally. All the amenities it had, it had in the back.

"Gave Happy a day off," Tony remarked absently. I noticed the small quirk of his eyebrow, however. He was intrigued.

I decided to give it a shot. "So what, this thing packs, what, about five-fifty horses?" I mused, watching Tony nearly swerve into the opposite lane. "At two and a half tons, it's still gotta be pretty quick with that V12-turbo. How fast it go?" The satisfaction was immeasurable, as pleasant to my soul as sitting in a heated leather chair with the smell of a new car, engine quietly rumbling in front of me. And by quietly I mean, it was focus-or-you'll-miss-it kind of quiet.

"Well aren't you full of surprises, baby girl," Tony grinned; a happy, excited grin even. It made his face lose ten years of age just like that. "Zero to sixty in five and a half seconds," He said after a moment. 

"Not bad," I said, sounding impressed. I already knew that but I wasn't planning on robbing Tony out of well deserved praise for his choice in vehicles. 

"Got a ride of your own?" He asked with a smile, like he didn't know it already. No background check would have skipped my three speeding tickets, but I concur. This game was fun.

"I do, actually. It's a 2008 Range Rover. Supercharged," I added in the end, just to emphasise.

"A big car for such a little girl," Tony whistled playfully.

"I'm compensating," I deadpanned. "I'm a little slow on the uptake, y'know, so my Rangie with five hundred horses makes up for it. Gotta keep it balanced."

Tony chewed on his lip. "Five hundred? Haven't heard about that, it comes with three-ninety-five in stock," His eyebrow wiggled. "Tuned it?" He cast me a contemplative glance.

"Yup," I exclaimed happily. As far as the date, I would have been utterly ecstatic to talk about cars all evening. Screw the boring "where do you see yourself in five years" questions, talk to me about your favourite engine swaps. Concept cars, give me those. Monster trucks? Yes, please. Vintage low-riders? Couldn't wait to get my grubby little hands on one. Gimmee!

Tony kept his silence and kept his press smile starting the moment we set foot on getting out of the car. The place he'd taken me to was ridiculously upscale and fancy; the valet hesitated only for a second before catching the keys Tony so carelessly tossed in his direction. There was almost no fear in his body language when the boy approached the massive, expensive vehicle.

The hostess smiled big at Tony and gave me the world's biggest stink-eye when he looked the other way but what else is new? As soon as she left us in the privacy of our booth, I didn't hesitate to stick my tongue at her retreating back. A brief lapse in maturity, if you will.

Tony cackled, growing suddenly serious. "Did she bother you? I can get her fired. I should get her fired."

"Nah," I shrugged. "Don't really care, just wanted to showcase my amazing sense of humour." Snorting, I gave Tony a wink and a secretive grin.

"You really don't give a fuck, do you," His eyebrows twitched again, a sign of mild interest that I noted during our routine sciencing time together. Tony was incredibly expressive if one took the time to observe.

"I could suck your dick under the table right now," I answered honestly. "It's just that when God gave out things like dignity and shame, I wasn't home. Too many fun things to do, y'know," I spoke as casually as I could even though I was dying of laughter inside.

Eyes bulging, jaw hanging mid-way to the floor. Tony was serving Looks™ and I didn't mean just the white tee and purple blazer combo. "Princess, you're going to be the fucking death of me!" He took a sip from his water glass, smirking.

Finally releasing my mirth, I gathered my hands in a lock in front of me. His own, warm and calloused, reached over - I allowed the brief intimacy, clasping them, fiddling with the leather band of his watch. For a moment, it was just us, sitting in the dim light, discovering each other anew to Robert Johnson singing the blues and NYC bustling with life just behind the wall. 

The waiter took our orders - and if I totally butchered the Italian, Tony was gentleman enough not to make any remarks. 

"Somehow, every time I am with you, you both manage to meet my expectations to a T and surprise me at the same time," I wasn't able to completely ignore my nerves. My hand was still loosely in his and he didn't mind at all, me messing with his watch.

"How so?"

"I'm going to loosely quote someone, bear with me." Mr Davies's words popped into my mind just as I was wondering how to best articulate my feelings. "You're eccentric and interesting because it's, well, it's you, because it would be much weirder if we'd be sitting here and making boring small-talk and asking each other the genetic get-to-know-you questions," I briefly paused to sip my Dom Peringon and stare at our hands. Gathering my wits. "That would be why I don't do dates. It sounds so tedious on paper, just sorting through people until a person that's not absolutely mind-numbing comes around."

Tony was silent for a moment, the sheen of his eyes, the faraway look; he was lost in memories. Probably remembering all the girls he had charmed before. I didn't doubt it was easy for him: his smile was distracting and people usually were attracted to shiny things. He shone plenty. Also, most people were stupid, they never cared to look past the golden wrapper. I was convinced there was a diamond under it. But then again, I was biased.

"I've never thought about it that way, but I guess you're right," He finally said, serious. "With Pepper, at least, it was. Come to think of it, we never had that much in common, besides Stark Industries and her willingness to put up with my shit." It was painful for him to talk about her, that much was obvious. His laugh was forced and sardonic.

I, on the other hand, never understood why they got together in the first place. Or maybe I did - but the cold, composed Pepper and the chaotic, energetic Tony reminded me too much of my own parents. All four people in this fucked up equation could have been much happier if they choose... What? Being alone? That was terrifying, too.

I kept quiet, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

"You know, this is so bizarre. Even an eighteen year old kid has got it figured out," He suddenly said, his tone bitter like the coffee that he loved.

"Woah, slow down," I put up a hand. "I never said I know what to do. I just said I know what NOT to do." The 'kid' remark would have made me eye-roll so hard my skull would crack any day. In this context, however, it was pretty spot on.

Tony snorted. "And how did you come by that information, pray tell, Baby?"

I huffed. "Have you met my parents?" We simultaneously cringed and I hurried to erase that mental image. "I make fun of myself for being into old dudes all the time," I made air quotes around the phrase that made Tony scoff, "But, honestly speaking, I've never even been on a date. Like a real one. Usually it's twenty minutes and I'm falling asleep mid-conversation. People can't seem to keep up with me or something," I felt genuinely dejected. "So many meaningless questions, so many downright idiotic comments. From men," I pointed out the obvious. "My mother used to tell me she thought I was gay because I didn't act like a girl... Whatever that means."

"That sounds pretty shitty," Tony was studying me like one would have been looking at an exotic animal in a zoo. "That said, I agree."

"That I don't act like a girl?" I teased him, the left corner of my mouth tilting upward. "Fuck that noise. I want to drive fast cars, drink straight liquor and have orgasms. If that makes me a dude... I look pretty good for a dude in a dress."

We laughed in unison, tension evaporating under the shared, mutual understanding. With Tony, it was easy. The waiter brought our selected dishes. Blink-and-he's-gone. Top notch service.

"A dude in a dress, can't say I'm surprised 'bout your lack of dates," He remarked conversationally, happily digging into his food. The noises he made were intriguing, to say the least, and I followed suit on my own food, finding it absolutely delicious. A delicious meal with a delicious man at my side. I refused to feel guilty about my thoughts.

"I guess I have exactly one (1) date on my ledger now," I raised my argument.

The fork clattered as Tony once again, came to a sudden realization. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding."

"No shit," I gave into the urge to roll my eyes. "But on the upside, my first date was with the most gorgeous, intelligent and witty bachelor of the city. I'd say I don't have it all that bad," I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Aw, you're making me blush," Tony recovered quickly, grinning. "And don't be shy. The most desired bachelor of the country, if not the world."

I shook my head. "No, the world's most delectable bachelor is one of the Saudi princes. What's-his-name, the one who posts goat and horse pics on Insta," I snapped my fingers a couple of times, trying to remember the name as Tony looked at me all offended. "Anyways, you get my point. I could have a go at him, don't you think?" Cocking my shoulder, coyly twirling the strap of my dress, I gave Tony my best come-hither look and was rewarded with an appreciative once-over. His eyes were growing hungry again. 

"You're a million dollar baby," He finally said, voice low. "And the extent of people I would be willing to share you with is very small."

That got me interested, sudden heat prickling underneath my skin. The conversation took a turn I didn't expect it to; and there lied the delight of being around Tony. He was always ready to surprise, in the best way. "Tell me," I requested politely.

"That's a conversation for another time," He was enjoying the chit-chat, desire beginning to creep into his features.

"Mmm, you think?" I allowed the strap of my dress to slip down my shoulder, exposing a collarbone, showing him just how far I was willing to go to satisfy my curiosity.

He swallowed audibly. "I think... You're smart enough to figure it out," He finally gritted his teeth, finishing off his dinner and immediately calling for the check. 

I wasn't done yet, however. The possibility of riling him up, taunting him into a lustful frenzy - I was in heaven. Karma had favoured me that evening, it had given me a chance to get Tony back for all the times he unknowingly made my mouth water and my brain go blip. "Must be Steve then," I bit my lip in thought. 

Honestly? I was as clueless as the couple next table over. Steve it wasn't, that much I knew for sure, he and Tony had their little love/hate dramatic connection that always ended in a massive ego standoff. Tony would be on the frontline fighting against Steve if the blonde dared to show anything even remotely resembling romantic interest towards someone Tony himself had his eyes on.

"Princess," Tony growled, sarcastically raising an eyebrow.

"Not Steve," I replied, cracking a smile. Success! "You know, I'm really bad at guessing who's into me. Unless someone is balls deep in me," My face was mere inches away as we quickly shrugged on our coats. "And even then, I can't be sure."

My giggling was accompanied by Tony shaking his head in exasperated fashion; he took my hand nonetheless and I happily swayed it between us, poster child for "not a care in the world". He allowed it, maintaining the same exasperated air about him, and I let him. Fondness and happiness seeped through that anyways.

"Brat," His voice was kind. And his kiss tingled where he left it on the corner of my mouth, sweet and short. "Here, have a go," Before I could react, the keys to his Rolls Royce were placed in my palm and he was making his way around the car to the passenger's side.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)! @softie-socks @schemefrenzy

[histrionic-dragon]

Google Says WHAT?! --A mini-fic

I’ve been reading the Hundred-Year Playlist series by the amazing @girlbookwrm and also creeping on other people’s comments on the story, because that’s something I do with stories I like. @girlbookwrm mentioned, in one of the comments-conversations, that if you Google “queer 1930s Brooklyn” you get Steve Rogers fan research on the first page of results. I may have swooped in to say that Tony’s reaction if he accidentally saw that, in-universe, would be hilarious, and then-- this happened.

It’s a bit more serious than I originally intended it to be, but still has some levity to it.

Story below the cut and maybe eventually on Ao3.  Takes place a few days after CA:TWS, because who better than Tony to sift through the SHIELD/Hydra data dump?

“Really, sir,” said JARVIS, “I must strongly advise you to go to bed.”

“Great,” Tony said absently. “You’ve given me the advice. Now you can feel good about it.”

“Sir . . . .”

Tony pushed his chair back from the table, spinning a little as it drifted smoothly across the lab until he was juuuust within reach of the countertop where he’d left his coffee. He picked it up and took a sip. Not too cold, yet.

Almost, but not quite.

“Look, JARVIS,” he said out loud, “I’m not working with fire, I’m not operating heavy machinery, I’m not actually making anything. I’ve even slept in the last 24 hours. Why are you on my case?”

“It is the total amount of sleep you’ve had in the past five days that concerns me, sir.”

Tony snorted.

“. . . and your reactions to some of the information uncovered by the Black Widow’s information dump at the beginning of that time.”

Tony put his mug down on the counter. It made a sharp clack sound. Not like the normal ting or click-thump of putting down a drink--this was loud, attention-grabbing, the sound of ceramic hitting on granite countertop just barely not hard enough to break.

Great. Now his coffee was a drama queen.

“Look,” he said. “It is entirely in character for Obie to have been paid off by someone to do what he did, and he needed sketchier contacts than Stark Industries has to get in with the Ten Rings. Might as well have been Hydra. I honestly could have put that together if I’d had time to stop and think before everybody I know called me up and asked me to start going through those files, it just rattled me that I didn’t and then that came up, okay? Honestly, I’m kind of surprised Rhodey didn’t think of it first and warn me when he called,” he added thoughtfully, “except I’m pretty sure Rhodey hasn’t slept in a lot longer than I haven’t. --Shouldn’t you be bugging him?”

“Colonel Rhodes is not my priority,” JARVIS said mildly. “And I believe he would agree with my assessment of your needs in this situation--as would Ms. Potts, who has repeatedly contacted me from the construction site in Malibu to inquire as to your well-being. I would hate to tell her you’re neglecting yourself.”

Tony stopped scowling at his lukewarm coffee and its noisy mug and moved the scowl to the ceiling. Technically JARVIS’s sensors were at least as dense at mid-wall and in the baseboards, but JARVIS would know what he meant. “You,” he said, “are a cheating cheater who cheats.”

“You did build me, sir.” JARVIS’ voice was extra-bland. He only did that when he was very pleased with himself. Tony sure as hell hadn’t made that part of him.

Artificial intelligences. They grew up so fast.

“Fine,” Tony said after a moment. “I won’t go down that particular rabbit hole anymore tonight, alright? No more looking to see how long Obie was working for Hydra, no more sniffing around what happened when—” His hands clenched tight enough to hurt and he made himself relax.

“I won’t follow up on the ‘was Obadiah Stane involved in the car crash’ angle until tomorrow. In fact, I won’t look at the secret files anymore. Just give me a few more minutes to finish up a couple trains of thought about other things from them, and then I’ll call Pepper myself, okay?”

“If you must, sir.”

~

Tony really was being good, dammit. He didn’t follow up on anything he thought could be related to Obie or his parents’ death. He didn’t go looking for anything new and unpleasant. He didn’t do anything but follow the money, because Hydra couldn’t have come out of nowhere. Once they got into the US government, sure, money wouldn’t be an issue, but how do you get your secret little evil organization off the ground? Couldn’t exactly ask around for angel investors.

No, all he was doing now was hunting for cash. He was going to figure out just how far down the rabbit holes went (the hydra-holes? Something something Hercules burying the immortal head under a rock and the other heads grew two more unless you torched them and arson would cover up a lot of records of failed operations but not all of them and THAT was interesting funding-wise, because to extend the Greek monster metaphor and borrow from that one D&D comic, you actually would get lightheaded and pass out if you had too many heads and too little blood supply to deliver oxygen and so they needed some stable sources of income in this heads-are-evil-operations-blood-is-money metaphor and again, once you were embedded in a government organization, you could totally just use that funding, but they weren’t like that to begin with and if you were going to get started as mostly outside a government operation in the US but needed the ties to get in, you needed money, and leverage, and that meant organized crime, and that meant—)

Long story short, he was looking up the history of various criminal organizations in the US and trying to figure out which ones might have been started by Hydra, or which other, older organizations they might have taken over or just steered in the ways they wanted. That meant reading about, among other things, the Mafia and their various sources of revenue going back to--based on what he knew about business and networking and family ties and inheritance and seriously, fuck you, Obie--about a generation and a half before the official, formal rise of Hydra as a Nazi science organization, to see if that would connect up with ties made even later when Hydra people came over in the fifties. So basically, large-scale criminal enterprises from the early 1900s on.

Maybe it took a little more than a few minutes.

On the other hand, it was a particularly fascinating more-than-a-few-minutes. People had gotten homicidal over really weird shit in the dark ages. Street gangs beating up people until they sold a different newspaper--now that was aggressive marketing. Tony still hated pop-up ads--Stark Ad Annihilator was the best adblock software on the market for a reason, that reason being that Tony had been bored and hopped up on decongestants one day and--anyway. Still better than getting stabbed to death. And then of course there were the hilariously inventive ways people had come up with of making, smuggling, and secretly serving booze during Prohibition, and that was probably where he really ought to be looking if he was going to follow the money. But there were all these interesting little spinoffs, like—

“The mob owned a lot of gay bars?” Tony said out loud, frowning. “What, like—’da boss says love is love. Dis is an equal-opportunity institution’?” He snickered. (It was not a giggle.) “That’s probably too funny to be accurate.”

“Indeed, sir,” JARVIS said. “The article you are about to click on reports, in summary, that the mafia had a great deal of expertise in running illegal nightclubs. When Prohibition ended, some mob bosses saw an opportunity to maintain this revenue stream.”

“That makes a decent amount of sense. Not very funny, but—” He waggled his hand. “Could see da business sense.” He snickered again.

“Quite,” JARVIS replied. “Sir, I must remind you—”

“Yeah, yeah. Just a few more minutes, J.” Tony glanced up briefly. “Promise.”  

“I will hold you to it, sir.”

Tony nodded absently— “sure, whatever”--already looking through a few other databases. The proto-SHIELD organization had been based in New York City for a while--with other offices elsewhere--before its official rebranding and move to DC, which meant he was looking for people with behind-the-scenes pull in NYC in the fifties.

“JARVIS, if you’re mother-henning, help me out and open up a few Google searches.”

“Sir?” JARVIS sounded marginally offended.

“I need crappy, surface-level information. Broad strokes. Your searches are too good. Give me anything they’ve got for searches on banking, politics, real estate, whatever pseudoscience or spiritualism was big at the time, and hell, why not, the LGBT community--all of those--in the twenties, the thirties, and the forties, and then take those results and show me anything that cross-references with our SHIELD people of interest in the fifties or later.”

A pause.

“Done, sir.”

“Anything good?”

“A few more data points to cross-reference with other sources. We may have the beginnings of a paper trail on the history and extent of Mr. Stane’s involvement with the organization, related to his business ties before Stark Industries, but—”

“Skip that,” Tony ordered. He wasn’t going to go into that. Not tonight. Not until he had everything he needed to chart out the whole festering shit-show and deal with it all at once.

“As you wish, sir. Two, perhaps three, of the prominent city council members at the time may have had ties to Hydra, most likely unknowingly. A housekeeper’s murder may have been precipitated by something she overheard rather than her affair with her employer, although the perpetrator may be the same woman as originally suspected. There may be more behind the apparent suicide of a SSR agent and a deadly riot at a movie theater than was originally suspected as well--though in those cases the revelation is the extent of the foul play, not its presence. There are also a few cases I have flagged as false positives. Would you like to review those?”

Tony stood up and stretched, his spine popping. Ow. “Sure,” he said, yawning, “they’ll be funny. And then I’ll call Pepper and go to bed,” he added, rolling his eyes, “so don’t say anything.”

“That is wonderful news, sir.”

The false-positive Google searches appeared as holographic screens around him. The first one was about a shady real estate deal that Hydra clearly hadn’t had a hand in, because the fact they didn’t own a particular piece of land later was a real hindrance to them, so that was good. The triumph of run-of-the-mill white-collar crime over evil. Or something.

The next few were restaurant reviews, for some reason. About all they proved was that foody talk from seventy years ago was just as weird as foody talk today, except people back then had really really liked preservatives as much as they really really hated them now.

Another search result was a Buzzfeed article: “17 of Howard Stark’s most hilarious parking tickets.” Apparently his dad had had a bad habit of just leaving cars lying around once he’d modified them with anti-theft mechanisms. One had sprayed a cloud of skunk musk at the officer leaving the ticket. Judging by the comments, people thought this was hilarious. They were all missing the point of the collateral stink-damage to bystanders and nearby cars. Tony could do it better than his dad ever had. Tony could do better in his sleep.

That left a sour taste in his mouth. --His brain? His mouth tasted awful, come to think of it, like the stale coffee now gone stone-cold at his elbow and too long without sleep, but that wasn’t the point. He needed mind Mentos, was the point. Next false positive.

(this is the actual search result!)

Tony started cackling.

“Are you alright, sir?” JARVIS asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said, clicking on the flagged article. “Yeah, I’m fine. What, this came up because of—?”

“Confluence of a known Hydra target and the search term ‘queer 1930s Brooklyn.’”

“Like the rainbow mafia, that makes sense when you think about it.” Tony shook his head. “Oh man, I’m gonna tell Cap that someone’s turned their history project on him into the history of Grindr.”

“Sir?”

“He blushes like a lobster. This’ll be the best. Thank you for this, J, you’ve made my night.”

“Are you going to leave the laboratory at any point in the near future, sir?”

“Yes, Mom, as soon as I read this actual article because even though it’s probably not really about Grindr, I’m sure there’ll be plenty in there I can embarrass Steve with. . . .  --Oooh, excellent subtitle. ‘Mr. Rogers’ Gayborhood,’ I’ll have to . . . .”

He trailed off absently as he realized what he was reading. “Huh. --JARVIS, how deep in the search results was this buried?”

“About halfway up the first page, sir.”’

“Huh.”

“Are you alright, sir?”

“Fine, it’s just--really good historical research, kind of light tone, but actually . . . probably not a horny undergrad messing with a history prof on a paper assignment. And the comments are . . . people are agreeing with . . . There are historical documents here.  --OK, real search engine time, JARVIS: is there some sort of, like, scholarly and/or Internet message board consensus that Captain America is gay and I missed it?!”

“It appears to be a topic of heated debate, actually,” JARVIS replied, “the foremost proponents of which are adamant about it not being a joke.”

“Okay,” Tony said, “I know about the clone conspiracy theorists and the Russian conspiracy theorists and the weird cultists and the Reagan administration snake-people conspiracy theorists, and I know he does too. How does Steve not know about this already?”

“He does, sir.”

Tony made a wheezing, squeaking noise, torn between hilarity and incredulity.

“The Captain has apparently been approached on occasion--in person, informally, and inconspicuously, most often by people who have written scholarly articles on the subject—”

“He has?”

“--and has refused to give any meaningful reply one way or another, other than that it’s not really anyone else’s business.”

Tony blinked. He was familiar with that bland kind of shutdown. It did not go well with the picture of flustered, wrong-footed Cap that his head kept trying to give him. He got flustered when he didn’t know what was going on. He got calm and blank and authoritative when he did.

“His refusal to answer questions has been especially marked when asked about his relationship with James Barnes.”

Tony blinked again, reached out on autopilot, and took a gulp of his now definitely too cold and ugh ugh ugh awful coffee.

Once he’d finished gagging and had acknowledged that, yes, his mouth absolutely hated him and this was possibly worse than waking up hungover and tasting stale vomit because he had been sober and in control of his own behavior when he slugged that down, there were no excuses--once he was done with that little ritual of disgust, he frowned, then firmly swiped the article’s display off to one side. “Save that for tomorrow, J,” he said. “And start a new file. I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

“Are you certain that’s wise?”

“‘Is Cap into guys’ is a more fun mystery than ‘did a terrorist organization recruit my dad’s best friend to spike his drink or cut his brakes the night he died so he’d be out of their way,’ JARVIS,” Tony said heavily. “Let me have my fun.”

He might be imagining it, but he thought JARVIS sounded almost gentle when he said, “Of course, sir.”

***

CODA.

Tony had been asleep.

He knew he’d been asleep, and he knew he was awake now, and he wasn’t sure when he’d transitioned from sleeping to thinking or if he’d just woken up abruptly. It hadn’t been a nightmare. He was lying perfectly still, his heartbeat was regular, and he wasn’t sweating or anything. He was just lying in bed, awake, aware that he was awake, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

“JARVIS,” Tony said.

“Yes, sir?”

“The guy Steve wouldn’t tell the Internet people about. That’s the same guy--that really weird message from Natasha . . . . ?”

“So it would appear.”

Tony thought for a minute.

“Well shit.”

“Aptly put, sir.”

Tony look at the ceiling some more.

“Merge the new folder I told you to make with the other one, the—”

“The folder entitled ‘Soviet Winter Reunion Tour or Something, Romanoff is Being Cryptic, Get Steve to Explain When He’s Conscious,’ sir?”

“Yeah, that one. Merge ‘em. Rename, uh, ‘Ancient History, Search and Rescue Edition.’ Mark it high priority.”

“Done, sir.”

“And JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Send Pepper a bunch of flowers and see if you can maybe find an earlier flight for her to come home.”

[thisislizheather]

July Jiffs 2019

So technically the end of August is the appropriate time to start any and all Halloween/autumn talk (I think I made up that rule, but it feels right), so I’ll respect that and wait. Just know that I’m inwardly filling up with joy in anticipation of the best time of the year. Here’s what went down this month!

I made a list of some of my favourite summer vacation-y movies that I like to watch to pass the ungodly slow summer hours.

I read and reviewed the book Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed (the woman who wrote Wild).

We had a small party for July 4th and it was the best. Here’s what I made and loved: Panzanella Salad with Fresh Mozzarella (I used the How Sweet Eats recipe, but added mozzarella and omitted the corn and avocado - I also made the croutons the Ree Drummond way, because that’s the tastiest way), Spinach Bacon & Artichoke Stuffed Mushrooms (because they’re so delicious I want to scream), I used bell peppers as the bowls for holding the ranch for the vegetables, Slow Cooker Ribs, Eggplant Lasagna (I can’t remember the recipe I used, but it was pretty basic), Peanut Butter & Nutella Cheesecake Bars (this was the second time I’ve made these and it’s a perfect dessert to make a night or two before so that it can really set up), Blueberry Lemon Bread, and a charcuterie board (which is like assembling food art & I love it).

My favourite fruit/vegetable season is the end of summer mainly because of the fresh tomatoes and corn, so I can’t wait to try some of these corn dishes available in NYC right now. Although I don’t know how any of them are going to compete with the corn gnocchi at Park Avenue Summer. (I just looked and there’s also a sweet corn agnolotti with black summer truffles on the menu now too, so things just got interesting.)

Jenn sent me a link to this lovely poem Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo that I just love.

I watched the AOC documentary Knock Down The House on Netflix and it’s so, so good. Cried at the ending.

I went on Nathan’s podcast to talk about dogs, cheating and movies.

I went for lunch at the cafe at Lilia in Brooklyn and it was ONLY AVERAGE. So that was disappointing. Maybe I ordered badly? I got the prosciutto, parmigiano butter, balsamic mustard sandwich - and even though it looks great (love whole grain mustard), it was really just too bready and not very flavourful.

Above Photo: Prosciutto, parmigiano butter, balsamic mustard sandwich at Lilia Cafe, Brooklyn

I saw Midsommar (by the same guy who did Hereditary last year) and I really liked it. Some parts are just unnecessarily graphic (and the slow motion shots of this stuff are insane to watch), but the plot was great. Love an original movie.

Watched the entirety of Champions on Netflix and it really bums me out that it got cancelled, it was a really fun show.

Made this chocolate chunk coconut banana bread and it was goooooood.

I visited the new TWA Hotel at JFK and wrote about it over here.

So excited to hear that there will be three more seasons of Big Mouth!

I also rewatched Dante’s Peak (still a great movie) and Twister (again, it holds up). I think I was in a natural disaster kinda mood that week.

Do you remember experiencing or hearing about the ride Kongfrontation at Universal Studios in Florida? I’ve only ever heard of it, but it seems like it was probably the best ride that ever existed at that park. I hate how most ride these days are just 3D screens with no real interaction or animatronics, it’s bullshit.

Fucking obsessed with this strawberry lemonade kombucha that’s apparently only available at Trader Joe’s. I thought their gingerade was the best flavour, but now I have to reassess everything. (Also tried the “watermelon wonder” but it’s pure trash.)

Some songs that I can’t stop listening to: You Need To Calm Down by Taylor Swift, Blow Your Mind by Dua Lipa, Everybody by Elliphant feat. Azealia Banks, Boys by Lizzo, Let Me Go by Hailee Steinfeld & Alesso feat. Florida Georgia Line & watt, Doin’ Time by Lana Del Ray, We Were Young by Petit Biscuit feat. JP Cooper, Calma (Remix) by Pedro Capo & Farruko

Apparently I can’t get enough of Bill Hader.

I refuse to shut up about how great the (square bottle) nail polishes are at Urban Outfitters. They’ve been consistently great for years. I’ve been wearing their neon pink Hot Tub off and on for at least five years, and they keep putting out wicked new colours. There’s almost always a 3 for $10 deal and recently I got Coffee Creamer, Sun Bunny & Optic White and they’re BEAUTIFUL.

It’s currently Restaurant Week again (it’s on until August 16th), so of course I went back to The Dutch for their beautiful wagyu steak tartare. I also had the corn cappelletti with chanterelle mushrooms and marjoram that was heavenly.

Above Photo: Wagyu steak tartare, The Dutch, NYC

Above Photo: Corn cappelletti, The Dutch, NYC

I saw The Farewell and it’s everything I wanted it to be and more! Definitely go see it. It also reminded me of this beautiful song that I had to sing for a competition once years ago, Caro Mio Ben.

There’s a deal with ClassPass where you can use the service for free for two weeks, so I tried it and it’s not that great. It’s just too expensive to justify having it when I already have a monthly gym membership somewhere else. I did try an aqua cycling class through Aqua Studio during the free trial and it was… only okay. I mean, it’s fun and great to be in the salt water, but it wasn’t all that challenging as a workout.

I wasn’t planning on buying it, but I tried it, loved it, so had to buy it: Glossier’s Brow Flick. I’m still learning how to use it properly, but so far I’m really into it. It inspired this eyebrow products video that I posted last week.

I saw Toy Story 4 and I really hope this is the final one they make because the ending was so good. That’s all I’ll say. Quality series of movies, right here.

Some friends of mine recently opened up a small, late night food place called Foodstruck in Astoria and the food is really good. They’ve just opened, so they’re still figuring out their hours but I think they’re catering to the late night crowd, especially servers/bartenders who get off work late. Check out some of the food specials from this past week.

Above Photo: Burger with gruyere, onion marmalade, sun dried tomatoes & a rosemary garlic butter on a potato bun

Above Photo: Fried boneless chicken thighs with a garlic soy tamarind glaze

Above Photo: Fried chicken sandwich with a spicy mayo, cheese sauce & pickles on a potato bun

My too-kind friend Irene got us a housewarming gift of a Diptyque candle (in eucalyptus) and somehow it’s still going after three months of daily use, which is incredible. Do not look up how expensive this candle is.

I watched To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before on Netflix and really liked it! Especially the hot tub scene. But let’s not get into it. I double-checked to make sure they’re both over 21 and they are, so all’s good.

Made this pappardelle pasta with mushroom ragu when Nathan was out of town (I like to get my mushroom recipes in when he’s gone) and it’s definitely going on my favourite-dinner-recipes list.

I ate at Misi in Brooklyn because I’ve wanted to go for ages and the pasta was solid as hell, I’d definitely go back. We had the charred peppers, marjoram, and whipped ricotta crostini, the corzetti with marinated sungold (peeled) tomatoes, garlic, pecorino & summer herbs (have you ever eaten a PEELED tomato? It almost feels wrong. The good kind of wrong), the strangozzi with pork sugo, nutmeg and parmigiana and for dessert we had the strawberries and cream gelato (it was a special that night) and the espresso gelato. Everything was so crazy good. The service was fantastic and the space is huge. Is it better than Lilia or L'Artusi (pasta-wise)? Ugh, that's such a hard question. It's really good. I'll have to revisit to get more intel to make a final decision on that.

I went to Coney Island with Irene and it was great, as it always should be.

I visited the Profundo Day Club (mainly to get my ass in a pool) earlier this month, and I highly doubt that I’ll return. Mostly because even though the pool was nice (small, but nice) and refreshing, the blaring house music in the middle of the day was a little excessive. There’s also a disco ball above the pool itself. And a unicorn floatie that drifts around the water. And waitresses who shoot sparklers off when someone buys a bottle of liquor. It’s… not for me, let’s say. And the cheapest pass was $70 (tax included), which is waaaay too expensive for Queens. Let’s be real.

There’s a new season of Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee and the Martin Short episode is just lovely. It almost killed me when he was talking about when he bought his house and said, “We bought it in 1986” even though his wife passed away years ago. Am I being ridiculous in thinking that him using the word “we” is so sad and sweet and nice? Or maybe that’s a normal thing to say and I’d melt at anything to come out of his mouth. And while it was a good episode, I got so fucking sick of all the filler shots of coffee being brewed, coffee being poured into a cup, beans being tossed in a can, flowers sitting in vases - for fuck sake JUST TALK TO MARTIN SHORT AND SHOW ME THAT. Annoying as hell.

Nathan and I started watching season three of Stranger Things and… it’s not good? We saw all of the first season, which was pretty good. Attempted season two and never finished it because it became boring. And last week, we watched the first couple episodes of season three and I think we’ve silently agreed on just stopping it altogether. And look, I’m happy other people like it, but it’s just not for me. Demogorgons are too close to being dragons, maybe that’s why I can’t care about them?

I like to go to at least one baseball game each season, so I went to a Mets game last weekend and got this beauty that was the giveaway (below) since it was the 50th anniversary of the moon landing.

Honestly, this bobblehead makes me so happy for some reason. I love going to Citi Field especially ‘cause the food is always so good. We got the filet mignon steak sandwich from the aptly named Pat LaFrieda’s Original Filet Mignon Steak Sandwich, incredible fries from Box Frites, souvenir cups & drinks from Effen Vodka Bar, mozzarella sticks from Big Mozz, and chips & queso with ginger lime margaritas from Cantina.

Above Photo: Pat LaFrieda’s filet mignon steak sandwich, Citi Field

Above Photo: Fries with parmesan ranch and cheese sauce from Box Frites, Citi Field

Two new things that I’m going to start doing:

1. Buying less things off of Amazon. If there’s an alternative, independently run company that I can find the item at (and if the price isn’t wildly more expensive) then I’ll shop there instead. Every new thing I hear about Amazon makes me shudder, and I hate that it’s become my default place for me to buy anything.

2. If a store/restaurant is cashless (ie. credit cards only), then I’ll refuse to shop there. It’s insane that this isn’t illegal everywhere yet. I’m so sick of it and cash should be accepted everywhere, it’s nuts that I even need to say that. (I was excited to have lunch at Ole & Steen in Union Square for lunch the other day, but they’re “cashfree” so fuck them!)

Some things that I’m looking forward to doing this month: I’ve already sent in my email requesting tickets for Saturday Night Live (you can only request tickets during the entire month of August), I can’t wait to see Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark with Layla, there’s a tomato gelato that I want to try that sounds either awful or life-affirming, going on our anniversary trip at the end of the month, excited for a Canyon Creek caesar salad with Harmeet, planning on going to the CNE with my mom (haven’t done this in years), going to two weddings (!!) and I love weddings, being in a pool with Marla and a bunch of our kids, and taking advantage of a few more Restaurant Week specials. Excited for the last month of trash weather!

[ilovethings-somuch]

Get It Right (14/?)

Sebastian Stan/Reader

A/N: So this is like pure fluff. Some good stuff is coming! I mean, maybe, actually I don’t really know. I will let you guys know right now though. I’ve been experiencing major writers block for this story. I’m doing my best to work through it but updates may slow down significantly. I’m really sorry! I hope I can figure it out soon because I really like this couple but I’m just not sure. If you guys have any suggestions or requests of something you want to see with this couple I would love to hear it! Also just, thank you so much for reading, I’m feeling very sappy at the moment and I’m just very thankful that you guys are so supportive! Anyways I��m going to shut up now, I hope you like it!

(last part)

“G’morning babe” Seb mumbles when I stretch out next to him.

“Good morning” I sigh “What time is it?”

“Like 10:30. Why?”

“Seb, I have something to tell you” I say while rolling to face him

“That sounds ominous, what’s up?” He rubs my arms soothingly.

“So, um I have this song coming out today and it’s about you, I mean what else is new. But I thought we could announce our relationship around the time the song is released. I want people to know that the song’s for you” His smile grows as I talk to him and as soon as I’m finished he presses his lips to mine.

“I’m so glad you’re ready to announce this” he says when he pulls away. “Do you have a plan for how? Like social media? Are we doing a random exclusive interview? A papwalk?”

“I was thinking instagram, we could use those pictures we took the other day”

“Sounds perfect, and I know just the caption” he says before pecking my lips.

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise” he tells me with a wink.

“Sebbb” I whine. “Please, I need to approve”

“As if I’d do anything you didn’t approve of” he clutches his chest in mock offense.

“Oh I know you would. Pleasssse?”

“I’ll show you before I post it, but I’m gonna make you suffer for a few hours”

“Seb that’s so rude!” I yell throwing a pillow at him “If you’re going to tell me anyways why not just tell me now?”

“‘Cause you’re so damn cute when you’re upset” he boops my nose to prove his point. I quickly push his hand away and get out of bed with the groan, mumbling curses at him as I make my way to the bathroom. I decide to take a quick shower since my hair is sticking in all directions. When I get out and make my way to the kitchen I find that Sebastian made breakfast.

“Do I smell bacon?” I ask excitedly while wrapping my arms around him while he cooks.

“Yes ma’am” he points his spatula towards the plate covered by a paper towel. I quickly unwrap myself from him and bounce over to the plate to grab a couple peices. “You’re supposed to wait until everything’s done” he says with an eyeroll

“Okay, grumpy” I recover the plate before hopping up to sit on the counter.

“I’m not grumpy” he turns to face me after turning the stove off.

“You sound grumpy” I reply with a smirk.

“I’m not” he runs him hands up the sides of my legs while stepping to stand in between them.

“Oh, I get it. You’re not grumpy, you’re horny” I tease while moving to rest my arms on his shoulders. He quickly slaps my lower back/butt with his right hand. “Um, ow?”

“Stop being mouthy” he says seriously.

“Oh honey, mouthy is what I do best” I raise my eyebrows testingly. This earns me another slap in the same spot. I expect this one so I’m able to control myself enough to not wince or jump.

“Are you done”

“Sebby I’m just getting started” I flash a smile and pull at his hair gently before pulling his lips down to mine. It’s a hungry kiss, all teeth and tongues and roaming hands. That is until my stomach decides that it’s too hungry for this and lets out an angry grumple. I immediately throw my head back in laughter and Sebastian rests his forehead on my shoulder while giggling. “To be continued” I promise him with a quick peck before moving to grab another piece of bacon.

Sebastian made, what I call, garbage eggs. Which means that you take whatever you can find in the fridge and mix it in with your scrambled eggs. His mostly contained peppers, onions, cheese, mushrooms and hash browns.

“This is really good, Seb. It reminds me of camping”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I used to go camping with my mom family all the time and this is always what we had for breakfast”

“That’s sounds fun, and delicious”

“It was” I’m suddenly nostalgic for my home and I end up chugging half of my orange juice to avoid any tears.

“Hey, are you okay?” Seb asks, noticing my change in mood.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. I guess it just kinda hit me that I’m moving here and I’m not going to be able to see my family as much as I’m used to”

“I know, it’s hard. But it’s going to be okay. There’s always facetime and phone calls and you can go home and visit whenever you have time off” he reassures me while rubbing his arm along my arm.

“Right, it’ll be good” I say, reassuring myself more than anything. We finish breakfast in a comfortable silence before Sebastian takes the dishes to the kitchen. I stick by the table a few extra minutes to check my phone for any important updates. My manager sent me an email to confirm that the release time hadn’t changed and asking if I told Sebastian yet. I quickly typed my response before seeing a text from my mom.

Momma!: How’s NYC treating you?

Shit, hey remember when I said I left out the whole Sebastian thing when I told my family about going to New York. Yeah, welp, this is gonna be great.

Me: It’s good! I really like it here. There’s something I need to talk to you about can you call me when you have a chance?

Within a couple minutes my phone lights up with an incoming call

“Hey, Mom”

“Hey honey, what’s up?”

“So uh well I really like New York so I think I’m going to move here. I actually found a place that is really nice and I went and saw it and everything. So, yeah I guess that’s happening” I shake my head at myself, frustrated that I can’t just speak my mind.

“That’s, wow, I’m happy for you. I can’t believe you decided so quick”

“Yeah, I guess it’s just one of those things that you know. And you know I need 4 seasons, LA would be too much sun”

“Right, is that all you needed to tell me? I was expecting something more urgent”

“Um, no that’s not all-” and that’s the moment Sebastian decides to yell from the kitchen, definitely loud enough for my Mom to hear

“Hey, babe, do you want to help me dry?”

“Hold on a second” I call back before tuning back into my mom asking who that was. “Yeah, okay that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. So remember when I went on Ellen and she surprised me by bringing Sebastian Stan on the show?”

“He’s the captain america guy right?”

“He’s Bucky, yeah sure. Anyways, um, we kind of started dating shortly after that” I stumble over my words, unsure of what her reaction will be.

“(y/f/n y/m/n)! And you’re just now telling me, your mother, this?”

“Yes” I say weakly “I just, I wasn’t sure how you would take it and I didn’t really know how this was going to turn out so I just wanted to wait until I knew for sure”

“And now you do?”

“Yeah, Mom, I really love him”

“Well then I guess there’s nothing for me to say. I’m happy for you, I can’t wait to meet him”

“Thanks Mom, I should go, I love you”

“Love you too”

I sigh once I hang up the phone, surprisingly happy with how that conversation went. Maybe she’s finally realizing that I’m growing up. I make my way into the kitchen to find Seb putting the last couple dishes away. I sneak up and hug him from behind, rocking us slightly.

“Hey, there. Sorry I interrupted your call, I didn’t realize you were on the phone”

“Nah it’s fine. I was just talking to my mom. I, uh, told her about us” he quickly turns in my arms to face me and rests his forehead against mine.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I realized that I should probably tell her before she just finds out from social media”

“Yeah she probably wouldn’t like that”

“Have you talked to your mom?”

“Yeah, I told her the other day when you said I could”

“Look at you, being on top of things” I tease, lightly brushing my lips against his

“I just can’t wait for you to meet her, she’s going to love you”

“God, I hope so” the thought of meeting Seb’s mom is terrifying.

“She will, I’m sure”

“Are we continuing now?” I ask, drawing a line along his cheek with my nose. I don’t get an answer, but Seb is quick to push my tight against the nearest wall.

“God, okay now I have to shower again” I say, trying to push Seb off me

“Noooo” he whines while hugging me tighter. “Stay”

“You could join me in the shower” I suggest with the hopes it will make him get up.

He pulls his head back to look me in the eye before speaking, “that’s a compelling argument, but I want to stay here” he tells me before laying his head back down by my neck. I simply sigh in defeat before wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Can we at least roll over? I can’t breathe”

“No” he mumbles into my skin.

“Seba, I can’t breathe” I try to emphasize.

“Yes you can”

“How do you know what I can and can’t do?”

“Because if you couldn’t breathe you wouldn’t be able to talk right now and I can feel you breathing”

“Okay, let me rephrase. It is hard to breathe”

“But you’re managing, and if I roll over you’re just going to run away”

“I won’t, scouts honor” I say with a mock salute

“You weren’t a scout” he says assuredly

“How would you know”

“I just have a feeling, am I right?”

“Yes” I grumble, “But seriously Seb, I won’t run away I promise. Please can we roll over?”

He groans before shifting his weight to roll onto his back, keeping his arms around me and pulling me with him. I can’t help but laugh at his awkward effort. I try to wiggle out of his hold but he keeps his arms tight around my waist. “You said you wouldn’t run away” he whines when he loses his hold on me.

“I’m not running away you dummy” I insist before I slide off his chest to curl into his side. His arm quickly wraps around my back to hold me closer. “See? This is better”

“Debatable” he shrugs

“Okay, well at least this way you won’t kill me”

“Yeah I guess that’s a plus” he tells me with a kiss to my forehead. He rubs small circles on my back while I trace imaginary designs on his stomach. We stay in a comfortable silence for awhile until I almost fall asleep.

“Okay, I need to get up” I say while sitting up from his grasp. He moans in protest and I see that his eyes are closed. “Sebby wake up” I coax with small kisses up his chest.

“I don’t wanna” he mumbles back.

“Come on, we need to shower” I straddle his hips while I kiss up and down his jaw

“Why?”

“Well you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m going to. And I thought you’d like to join me”

He slowly peeks one eye open to look at me before fully opening his eyes. I quirk my eyebrows at him in question before rolling off him and making my way to the bathroom, consciously swaying my hips extra. I make it into the shower and am halfway through washing my hair before I hear the curtain shift and Seb steps in. I turn to face him wrapping my arms around his neck before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “You made it”

“How could I refuse?” he smirks.

(next part)

Tags: @amistillmyself

[asmirandaseesit]

Vamos a la Playa

Hello again,

It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other. As an update on my life, I’m a senior now, and after returning from Turkey I’ve spent the past calendar year basically doing nothing. I’ve been to a few new cities in the U.S., most notably Chicago, which I’ve been considering posting about solely to talk about the food. I’ll keep you posted as to what I decide to do.

Anyways, this time I decided to brush the dust off this blog to talk about my recent spring break trip to Puerto Rico. I apologize in advance for the low-quality photos, in a lapse of judgement I forgot to pack my camera... :(

So- to the fun stuff. Puerto Rico. Otherwise known as one of the random islands in the Caribbean that the U.S. for some unclear reason still has ownership over (we got Puerto Rico, Guam, the Philippines, and temporarily Cuba as part of the end of the Spanish-American War). If I were to summarize Puerto Rico in a few words, it would probably be: fun, and lawless. I can’t really think of anything else that would capture it as well as those two words. Popular would work too, since there were a lot of other tourists while we were there. It was like any Caribbean island I would have expected: an endless bounty of rum, fresh fruits, and sunshine, all topped with a Latin flair and failing economy (thanks for the tip, Disney). The people were all so kind and so interesting too! Basically all of our Uber drivers engaged us in a fully-fledged conversation and usually gave us recommendations on places to go/eat. The food was exactly what I would have wanted-- dishes emphasized seafood, plantains (served in any method possible), Spanish spices, and I never found myself in a shortage of avocados. What more could a girl ask for?

Needless to say, I’d give Puerto Rico a 9/10. I’m deducting a point off because this week cost me an arm and a leg. Restaurants were priced the same as places in Manhattan or LA, (understanding that I ate seafood practically every day) which was a rude awakening considering people had told me that Puerto Rico was relatively cheap. However, I don’t regret a single dollar I spent, I had a blast and that’s what matters... right?

To walk you through my experiences, I’ll go through the pictures first. We left Syracuse Thursday night for NYC, crashed at friends’ for the night to catch our 11 am flight Friday morning to San Juan. Shoutout to Kai for letting me sleep on his futon, again (you’re the best, and you always will be).

Funny enough, the day we left the entire Northeast was getting slammed with a snow storm-- I think there were a couple of inches in NYC. Man, never had I ever been more glad to be waiting in an airport, jetting off somewhere (literally anywhere) else. Cackling to ourselves at the blizzard outside, the squad and I boarded and took off on time for San Juan. Unscathed by the winter storm, we landed in San Juan around 4 pm that day-- I love when you fly somewhere and the second you walk out of the airport, your body is shocked by the temperature difference. Ahh, the sweet sensation of perspiration.

We quickly went back to our Airbnb, changed, and went out to dinner. Now maybe it was the travel- or the sangria- but this was one of the more euphoric meals I’ve ever had. We went to Casita Miramar, and all ordered the aguacates rellenos (stuffed avocados).

Yes, it was just as good as it looks. Better, actually. *drools* The shrimp was charred perfectly, served with a creamy red pepper sauce that was sweet, garlicky, buttery and just classically good. On the side were tostones (smashed fried plantains). UggGGHHHhh. We then split a guava panetela (divine buttery almost amaretto-y cake layered with guava jam) and were served complimentary shots at the end- called “chichaitos,” they’re traditional Puerto Rican rum shots with anise liquer and a few coffee beans added (usually three for money, love, and health). After slamming those down and being painfully reminded of my relationship with rakı, we went home to catch some z’s for the rest of our trip.

The next day, we rented a car to go to a beach about an hour out of San Juan. My roommate has a friend from San Juan, so we shaped a lot of our itinerary around his suggestions (turns out, the locals know what they’re talking about). So, we ventured out to Manatí, and visited the playa la Poza de las Mujeres.

The water was crystal blue, warm, and the beach wasn’t crowded at all. I had to stop for two iguanas to cross the road though, which was weird.

We then went out to dinner at a little place called Mere Pescao (where I got mahi mahi and plantain skewers) and then went out to drinks at La Coctelera on Calle Loiza. There, I got a rosemary and beet Tom Collins, which was OK but not my favorite. We also went to a Basque bakery and I got a guava pastelito (divine).

The next day, we went to probably the worst brunch we’ve ever had (DON’T go to Caficultura) in Old San Juan. The food was subpar and the service was horrendous. I would say the one saving grace was being able to try a Cortadito, a local favorite similar to a macchiato (the real kind, not the over-dressed crap you get at Starbucks). However, if you do want the real deal-artisanal Puerto Rican coffee, DO go to Cuatro Sombras. They roast all their beans in house (which are locally harvested from Yauco) and even offer special cupping demonstrations and tastings. We then walked around Old San Juan, which is absolutely adorable and reminiscent of Macau (or any other old Portuguese/Spanish town with cobblestone streets, brightly colored buildings and ornate white reliefs).

This is one of the castles in Old San Juan- nicknamed “El Morro” it served as a fort dating back to the 16th century and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The next day, we were on the road by 7 am to go horseback riding on the beach in Isabela (2.5 hours west of San Juan). We went with a small company called Tropical Trail Rides, which was a 2 hour trail ride on 3 different beaches/through coastal brush. Coincidentally, our horses all embodied us in their own ways; Taína was the dark, ethnically ambiguous one (me), Cristal was the crotchety standoffish one (Audrey), Canela didn’t give a flying f*** about the trail ride or her job (Bella), and Whiskey was fully erect the entire time (Lily). Classic.

The four horsemen of the apocalypse

It was a really nice ride, and honestly I could��ve done it all day. We even got to walk over old U.S. missile launchpads in the forest dating back to the Cuban Missile Crisis! Love me some history.

After getting back from horses, we got smoothies and lunch/dinner at La Casita Blanca, a small local place in Santurce. I got the pastelón, which is essentially a take on lasagna but instead of pasta its sweet plantains. I didn’t snag a picture because frankly it wasn’t pretty enough, but trust me- it was DELICIOUS. Like a Puerto Rican moussaka- all the things good in this world, really.

The next day, we left our house at 5:30 am to catch the 9 am ferry to the island of Culebra. (Yes, you did the math right, Fajardo ferry terminal is an hour away from San Juan, and the ferry was scheduled for 9) - It’s an island about equidistant from Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands, approximately an hour east of PR. I was nervous about this ferry since I had read online it could be rough seas, and with my seasickness, I knew it could get ugly. Luckily, I could recline my head back so I felt fine- but man, the seas were unkind to us that morning. At least 10 people in my immediate proximity were stumbling over to the trash can/bathroom. People were dropping like flies! Bags were being passed left and right, people were toppling over pale and drenched with sweat... it was atrocious. Like a cafeteria food fight, but not fun. After an hour or so of that torture, we landed on the island and decided to rent a golf cart to navigate to/from the beaches around the coastline.

Drinking a piña colada on the 2nd most beautiful beach in the world. My white privilege is checking in right about now.

Flamenco Beach was gorgeous. The sand was fine and white, the water was bright turquoise, and the coastline was curved perfectly like a horseshoe. It was well worth waking up at 5 am to see.

After our time at the beach, we decided to go snorkeling for a bit at Melones Point and try to find some turtles. No turtles unfortunately, but we saw some cool fish and got a lot of hilarious snorkel photos in the water.

After a full day without food, I decided to get some sustenance at Zaco’s Tacos while waiting for our 5 pm ferry back to the main island- would recommend if you’re on Culebra, it’s reasonably priced and the tortillas are definitely made in house (as a Southern Californian, you can tell).

The next day, we had our zip lining adventure in El Yunque National Rainforest. Fun fact, PR is home to the only tropical rainforest in the U.S. National Parks system. So, when in Rome.

The rainforest was beautiful. The park was a combination of 8 zip lines, mostly short, but the longest was about 2000 feet long over unobstructed tree tops with a view to the ocean. Simply incredible.

Jacked mushrooms go zip lining

After our boost of adrenaline, we ventured into the rainforest to check out a suggested trail to a swimming hole in the river. The “hike” was about 10-15 minutes, really a casual stroll, but the swimming hole was beautiful, and well worth the confusing drive/30 potholes I ruined our rental car with.

Like basically any other body of water in/near Puerto Rico, the river was clear and there were these cute fish swimming around us the whole time. They kept bumping into me though, which I didn’t know to find endearing or creepy.

After another long day, we got food at this restaurant on the beach called El Alambique, where we got buzzed off more piña coladas (an ongoing trend over spring break) and I ate a seafood salad the size of my torso. The Syracuse game was also on at the bar the whole time, funny enough.

The next few days were slightly uneventful, as we had to return our rental car (the crappy Hyundai Accent we became so attached to, listening to Puerto Rican radio and counting iguana roadkill on the highways... final number of 26 FYI) and we had already hit everything on our itinerary. We ended up spending a day the the Renaissance Hotel on the beach in Condado, which was great because we got all the perks of staying there without actually dishing out the $400 a night!

Sipping on prosecco like I’m actually worth something

For lunch, we walked to a nearby food truck called Kabanas for the best fish tacos I’ve had in my life.

You really can’t go wrong with fresh red snapper though, can you?

Afterwards, we went home to get ready for dinner and happy hour. We went to a rooftop restaurant called El Punto de Vista in Old San Juan, where they have 2 for 1 mojitos EVERY DAY until 5 pm. Need I say more?

This place is known for their mofongo, which is another Puerto Rican specialty. Take plantains, fry them, mash them, then top them with meat/seafood and a sauce. This is mofongo with shrimp and garlic sauce. Come on, forget about it.

The next day, I went on a run around Condado to get some exercise. After realizing I hadn’t been that warm in about 5-6 months, it made sense why about 2 miles in I was dripping sweat. I ran around the lagoon and back and managed to snap this photo:

Ah, what it would be like to run this every morning

The next day or so we pretty much screwed around San Juan and ate a lot more. Our last night, we went out to La Placita de Santurce and it would have been like 150% more fun if any of us were in the mood to binge drink. If you’ve been to Hong Kong, I would compare this to a Puerto Rican LKF: a concentrated network of bars and clubs and drunk pedestrians crowding the streets looking for the next place to go. Good vibes, readily available alcohol, and a crowd with people young and old... it was the place to be on a Friday night.

Unfortunately, the next day I woke up with a sore throat, and what viral infection I thought I fended off right before break finally caught up with me. I took it easy my last day there, and we finished off with dinner at one of the most renowned restaurants in San Juan- Jose Enrique. To preface, it’s got 680 reviews on yelp and 4.5 stars, and at opening at 6:30 pm there was a line to get in about 30 people long. Was it worth all that hype? Maybe- the food was incredible, I got the snapper which was fried and served with a sweet potato puree and a papaya avocado pico de gallo. It was, in all worlds, a very good meal. If you can swing the wait, I recommend going here.

I’m not going to talk about the 15.5 hour horror story that was our trip back to Syracuse, but to give you an idea, it lasted from 12 am to 3:30 pm the next day. So, I’ll leave you with my favorite song right now, that we heard about 3 times a day in PR. It’s a bop.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJQP7kiw5Fk

Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you next time!

Hasta luego~

Miranda

[strmyweather]

35.

I know I’m supposed to dread getting older, but honestly, I never really have. That’s probably at least in part due to the fact that my parents have both aged incredibly gracefully, and I have every hope that I’ll follow in their footsteps—but also, I feel as though I’ve learned and grown so much through my late 20s and early 30s that it’s pretty hard to wish that process would stop. I definitely wouldn’t choose to go back, even if I could.

Still, thirty-five does ‘feel’ like a big birthday on some levels. I mean, I’m a whole new survey demographic now (not an ‘18- to 34-year-old adult’ anymore). I’m officially a CrossFit Masters athlete (yay!). And if I were to have a kid (which at this point is pretty unlikely), I’d now be formally classified as an ‘elderly primigravida’ (sexyyyyy).

At any rate, the steady turning of the earth just has me thinking this year, a bit more so than other years. So, just for fun, here are a few things I’ve learned—some silly, some semi-profound, but all thoroughly true, at least in terms of my own experience of the world.

Any of these ring true for anyone else?

1. In general, seeking out new experiences is more fulfilling than trying to recreate old ones. There are always exceptions — I’ve seen the Broadway show Wicked something like eleven times, in part because I honestly enjoy seeing the different actors’ takes on the characters that I (now) know so well. I ran the NYC Marathon a second time, because I didn’t have the race I wanted to have when I did it in 2014. But in general, our most cherished life experiences are special at least in part because of their uniqueness, and we’re happier when we accept that awesome day or event or moment as a beautiful standalone memory, versus trying to duplicate our joy.

2. At a restaurant, order the thing that you’d never cook for yourself. Restaurants are special, or should be. Most of us don’t eat out every day, or even every week—and we also don’t typically go out on our own; it’s usually a date with a dining companion (or two, or ten) with whom we’re looking forward to spending some quality time. So if you’re in it for the experience, then you kind of owe it to yourself to get the tuna tartare or the fried ice cream or whatever amazing thing you’d never go to the trouble of learning to make at home.

3. Nope, that to-do list is never going to stop scrolling through your brain… One unfortunate fact of adulthood, it seems to me, is that there will never not be something that you ‘should be doing’. There’s a certain level of baseline chatter that you just have to learn to shelve.

4. …but travel is one huge thing that helps with hitting Pause on that list. If you’re only focused on the next couple of hours—where exactly is that ferry port, how do you say ‘bathroom’ in Greek, and what should we have for lunch today?—then it’s hard to remember the closet cleanouts and plant repotting that you’ve been meaning to do.

5. Speaking of which—carry-on only. Always and forever. Even if you’re staying for a month. There is always a way to do it. Bag fees aside, it also keeps you from ever being separated from your stuff, and it’s also just so much simpler logistically—I’m a travel backpack devotee, and I can’t count the number of times my life has been made easier by the fact that I could physically manhandle my own possessions without assistance (up steep flights of hostel stairs in London, through a tropical downpour in Zanzibar, during an hourlong border crossing in Nicaragua).

6. You don’t have to love your job. I mean, it’s easier if you don’t HATE it, either, but… they call it ‘work’ for a reason. You’re not failing if your job isn’t the thing that drives you to spring out of bed in the morning. Despite what social media would have us believe, very few of us actually have the luxury of having our personal interests, our inherent talents, and our actual income all line up—and there’s nothing wrong with that. (And, also worth considering: if my paycheck actually depended on language-learning or CrossFit or international travel, would I still love those things quite as much?)

7. For the most part, vegetables are legitimately delicious. Subtitle: 'Please Stop Steaming Your Brussels Sprouts'. A food you think you don’t like is usually a food that you just haven’t had cooked properly. (Okra isn’t slimy if it’s sliced into medallions, tossed with a little cornmeal, salt, and pepper, and sautéed in just a tiny bit of oil. You're welcome.)

8. Just because you are CAPABLE of doing something—physically, mentally, or emotionally—doesn't mean that thing is necessarily the best FIT for you. As a teenager (with many natural intellectual gifts, but going through a rather unfortunate Shania Twain idolization phase), I was once told by an authority figure, “To whom much is given, much is expected.” Yikes. Talk about feeling like you’re not measuring up. Whether real or imagined, that burden stuck with me for decades—and my resume is sprinkled with some pretty impressive entries from my 20s and early 30s. But what you can’t see there is the associated anxiety, insomnia, weight gain, and general dissatisfaction. It’s taken a long time for me to shake off the reflex that I ‘should’ be aim to be the ‘best’ at absolutely everything—to internalize the fact that, while my abilities matter, so does my own personal happiness. I have a far better work-life balance—and feel like much more of a ‘whole person’—now, at age 35, by virtue of having accepted a position that (on paper) is a little less impressive. In my current role, I still make a difference in people’s lives—but it turns out that I actually have more to give to others by virtue of the fact that I’m also able to take care of myself.

9. Almost no decision is actually permanent. The one exception might be the choice to have a kid—once you take that leap, you’re kind of in it for the long haul. But everything else—romantic relationships, career choices, homeownership—sure, it’s all super stressful and keeps us awake at night… but almost all of it IS still changeable, if we need it to be.

10. Most people you meet are struggling in ways that you know nothing about... The ones who seem to have everything? Rest assured, they don’t. And the ones who are acting ‘off’ and making you second-guess yourself? Chances are good that their behavior has nothing whatsoever to do with you. We humans are inherently short-sighted, selfish creatures whose default mode is to look out mostly for ourselves—evolution made us that way—and yet, in this society filled with modern comforts, we can and should be kinder.

11. ...and strong people only get that way by having gone through something. When you meet someone amazing, remember that they usually had to pass through some kind of test to become the person they now are. I often find myself looking at brilliant, kind, steady, smart, capable people with equal parts admiration and curiosity—wondering, “What darkness did you fight?”

12. The way to tell a ‘good’ lie is to include one solid detail. I’ll preface by saying that lying in general just isn't worth it, not least because it becomes super hard to keep track of… and people can also smell overcompensation a mile away. But on the occasions when you need to tell a relatively harmless fib—to turn down an invitation, to spare someone's feelings, to get out of a party, whatever—include just one good bit of realism. “One of my friends is going through a breakup and I told her I’d meet her for drinks tonight.” “Turns out my parents are coming into town next week, so I don’t think I should commit to that quite yet.”

13. Art is the best travel souvenir. Food gets eaten, clothes blend in with the rest of the closet and lose their connotation. But art is a colorful home addition, a perfect conversation starter, and a constant visible reminder of the adventures you’re had. And if you can simultaneously support a local artist from whatever awesome place you’re traveling to, so much the better.

14. Trains are way more pleasant than planes. The trip might take just slightly longer on paper, but think about it. Free wifi, plenty of legroom, a café car, the ability to stroll, zero required ‘cushion’ time for security screening… and, in sharp contrast to airports, train stations are typically right in the middle of the city center, which (chances are) is likely where you were going anyway.

15. If you’re lucky enough to have a cool family, stay consciously grateful for that. Families look all different ways and have all different dynamics—but we hear so much about all the problems that we sometimes take for granted the millions of ‘normal’, down-to-earth, cohesive, functional family units. Plenty of people out there are doing a really solid job—supporting one other’s various life transitions, thoughtfully listening and providing navigational advice through unforeseen challenges, raising reasonably well-adjusted kids, and straightforwardly taking each other down a peg when needed. We all screw up here and there; that’s inevitable—but if you’ve got one of the awesome families who generally puts the ‘fun’ in dysfunction, it’s worth recognizing that fact and savoring it.

16. A little bit of real stuff is better than a lot of fake stuff. (Just read the famous Amazon reviews of the sugar-free gummy bears!) But really, this is true of just about everything. What would you prefer: one deep conversation or six hours of superficial small talk? One dense fudgy brownie or a whole box of SnackWells cookies? One pair of high-quality leather boots vs a dozen pairs of knockoffs?

17. Not everyone is going to like you. And this works in gradations as well as absolutes—some people are going to like you a lot more than you like them, and lots of people won’t like you nearly as much as you like them. It’s the law of averages in action, and there generally isn’t a lot you can do about it. The takeaway is that it’s a huge waste of emotional energy to continue seeking approval from those who aren’t going to give it.

18. It’s OK to make dumb decisions once in a while as long as you accept the consequences. One of the perks of adulthood is that we're allowed to make less than optimal choices. There are times when opting to stay on that sunny rooftop for a seventh cocktail with our friends really is the ‘right’ decision for our mental health.

19. Nobody else sees your body the way you do. For better and worse, 'perceptual adaptation' is very much a Thing. We see ourselves in the mirror twenty times a day. The holiday belly or PMS bloating truly is not visible to anyone else. Not only are we just so much more highly attuned to fluctuations in our OWN bodies than those of others, but, likewise, other people are also generally way too preoccupied with their own physical ups and downs to even notice yours.

20. This country needs a Life Skills class. In recent decades, we’ve (happily) been moving away from traditional gender stereotypes—and yet, objectively, there was a lot of practical value to some of the stuff our parents learned in Home Ec and Shop. When my sister and I were teenagers, my family once sat around the dinner table and drew up a curriculum that we thought every modern public school student should have to learn by the time of their high school graduation, featuring lessons like changing a tire, sewing on a button, balancing a checkbook, and cooking a couple of basic recipes. I freely admit that, while I am a shining example of a very ‘successful’ twenty-first century student, I’m also significantly lacking in a lot of knowledge areas that would have been considered ‘basic’ not so many years ago.

21. The majority of us wake up with an ‘earworm’. Start paying attention. It’s easy to disregard, but I’ll bet you wake up with a random song in your head first thing every morning.

22. Learning a second (or third, or tenth) language literally causes your brain to work in different ways. You know that pleasant collective lingering that sometimes happens after a group of people have eaten a meal together? Where they all stay around the table—conversing, laughing, relaxed, maybe sipping one last drink? Yeah—in English, we don’t really have a word for that. Dutch does, though: ‘natafelen’ (after-tabling). There’s also the well-known ‘gezellig’—which means ‘cozy’, warm, familiar, but can apply to people or events as well as to spaces. Or what about ‘uitbuiken’—which is basically what we do after Thanksgiving dinner, ‘letting our belly out’—that phase where you push back from the table and take a few minutes to relax and digest. And it’s not just untranslatable words—even concepts that are able to be directly interpreted just ‘feel different’ in other languages. 'Onzichtbaar' (literally: 'unseeable' in Dutch) ‘feels’ just sliiiightly different from 'invisible' in English. Another great example is the large number of ‘creative’ names and words that exist in the Harry Potter series—for instance, in English, the name Dumbledore just sort of calls to mind the image of a tall wizard with a white beard. In recreating that same feeling in Dutch, the translator settled on Perkamentus, a derivative of the word for ‘parchment’, which creates that same gut-level impression for native Dutch speakers. This kind of thing is why translation and interpretation are such art forms—and why the opportunity to learn a new language via adult immersion is so incredibly enriching. You don’t simply gain a new vocabulary; your world inherently becomes broader, because with new words and ideas also comes an ever-so-slightly different vantage point for perception.

23. Split your auto-deposited paychecks. Even if it’s just a little bit, diverting a percentage of each check into a separate account that you rarely access is a way of giving yourself a tiny safety net. If you never see it, you get used to living on what you have. And then, when the day comes that you really need three pounds of coffee and a carton of protein shakes, but are trying to survive until payday because Costco doesn’t accept American Express (ask me how I know)… well, you’ll be really happy when you realize you can make that grocery run after all.

24. Not everybody needs a four-year degree. We will always need skilled tradespeople. (Every single one of us has had that moment when we’ve been deeply, overwhelmingly grateful for an experienced plumber!) A college degree is a great accomplishment, but we’ve perpetuated the idea that possessing one is somehow a mark of intelligence and essential for lifelong success. In reality, four years of undergraduate study have become an increasingly expensive commitment that isn’t necessarily the best value—or the best fit—for everyone. Trade schools and community colleges are undervalued resources that are worth considering. Furthermore, a non-linear path is also okay, even preferred. Take a gap year. Do some service work. Try a part-time job or internship. Read some books. See the world. An expensive and lengthy education may, in fact, be the best choice after all—but give yourself the tools to make an accurate cost-benefit analysis before deciding.

25. Athletics are empowering. Being able to unconsciously trust your body is a wonderful thing. Furthermore, you learn fascinating things about your own individual physical and mental machinery when you explore its limits. This doesn’t necessarily mean deadlifting 300 pounds; your own personal light bulb might be learning to differentiate between the sensations of a high heart rate versus true muscular fatigue, or discovering that the reason your back often hurts is because your superior mobility has allowed you to slide through life with insufficient muscular stability. We all need to get more ‘comfortable being uncomfortable’—because that’s how we grow.

26. Let kids fail… The helicopter-parent epidemic is resulting in an exceptionally anxious generation. The fact is, the way that children grow into confident adults is by being allowed to calculate small risks (that feel large to them, developmentally) and experience both positive and negative consequences. Maybe that steep downhill on their bike will be the most exhilarating thing they’ve ever experienced, or maybe they’ll fall and get badly hurt. Maybe they know their exam material well enough that they can get by okay without studying, or maybe they’ll fail and have to work that much harder for the rest of the semester. Either way, their world is slightly broadened—and their fear slightly lessened.

27. …and, as adults, we should continue to move toward things that scare us. It is a reality of life that you will eventually be forced to confront just about everything you fear, whether large or small. So when the moment arises for you to confront a fear on your terms, that’s a growth opportunity—and, as with everything, having that degree of control sometimes makes all the difference. Actively choosing to undertake an experience is usually a lot more comfortable than being forced into it.

28. Pro-birth isn’t the same thing as pro-life. Meaning, if you’re staunchly anti-abortion, then you’d better also be pro-social programs to support those kids once they’re actually on the planet. (And ideally you’ll also be pro-contraception, pro-health education, and pro-living wage / paid family leave.) In other words: please make sure your moral opinions line up in a way that makes logistical sense.

29. Knowing what you don’t know is just as important as knowing what you do know. And people respect you more when you own that fact confidently. This is true of any life situation, but is actually a concept that I learned firsthand as a healthcare provider. We PAs are exactly (and only) as good as our own self-awareness; we can do so much, but only if we remain acutely aware of the boundaries of our knowledge and experience.

30. The relationships that stick (romantic and otherwise) are the ones that you don’t have to look for—they just find you. This is true of lots of things, actually—career options being another big one. The takeaway is that when something is ‘meant to be’, it tends to be ‘easy’. That’s not to say that we don’t still have to put in work—rather, that the way forward is clear and obvious; the path opens itself up to you, unforced.

31. On the flip side, letting go of a relationship that is no longer serving you—romantic, friendship, or otherwise—is a vital skill. It’s also one that we never truly master, because the context is different every time. But this is one of those situations where life experience pays off big time—not because you necessarily have more tools in the toolbox, but because you’ve had more practice at the flexibility with which you can wield them.

32. Parents learn just as much from their kids as the other way around. I’m not a parent, but I have parents—a couple of pretty awesome ones, as a matter of fact. And while I definitely have one of the ‘good’ family stories and still tend to run straight to my folks anytime I have a ‘life question’, I also recognize that they’ve been stretched, pushed, and challenged in many ways by virtue of the people that my sister and I are. I’m sure they’ve lain awake at night worrying about me at times, but I’ve also nudged them into traveling to new cities and countries, have introduced them to people from different walks of life, and have indirectly forced them to examine their own ideas and beliefs. I’m at a point in my life now where it doesn’t look likely that I’ll end up having kids, at least not biological ones, and this is really the biggest piece of regret that I feel about that: missing out on so many unknown (and unknowable) experiences. What might I have learned—how might I have grown—from those hypothetical kids?

33. Stress is stress is stress. Your poor little body is always trying to compensate for the various abuses of life. It does not know whether your cortisol is high because you had a crazy workday, because you’re in a calorie deficit, because you did a two-a-day training session, because you had a fight with your partner, or because you only slept four hours. It does not know whether your sympathetic nervous system is activated because you just did 100 GHD sit-ups, because you had an awesome birthday cheat day with a couple thousand more calories than usual, or because you just completed a 12-hour road trip in bad weather. It just knows that it’s stressed. Treat your body kindly. After all, you only get the one.

34. One of the absolute greatest things about getting older is self-awareness—learning how to drive your own individual machinery. There’s a lot to unpack here, but basically: life gets a lot better when you can ‘manage yourself’ proactively instead of simply reacting to every small event. Personally, I know that I’m wired for an early bedtime and an early wakeup; that I need a lot of time alone to recharge my batteries; that I’m a more settled and positive person when I make time to write first thing in the morning; that I am prone to become unduly stressed in a competitive setting; that I shouldn’t commit to anything in the evenings after a full workday; that week two of my monthly cycle consistently delivers my strongest days in the gym; that I’ll sleep poorly if I don’t eat enough on a given day; that my emotional intuition is generally accurate even if I can’t put it into words; that endurance training beats up my body much more than heavy barbell work; that I consistently underestimate the physiological stress of driving a long distance; and that despite often dreading a task beforehand, I will almost always immediately commit to doing it perfectly once I’ve actually started. TL;DR—if you know your inherent patterns and tendencies, you can build your life around them in a way that makes you a better, happier, more optimally functional human.

And, 35… Comparison is the thief of joy. A pediatric surgeon I used to work with, when discussing his surgical outcomes with parents, would often put it another way, “The enemy of good is perfect.” Either way, this is probably the single most important thing I’ve learned thus far as an adult… that it’s so much easier to savor your own small accomplishments if you aren’t constantly focused on how you stack up next to others. Social media perpetuates this issue in spades, because there will always be someone smarter, prettier, stronger, funnier, or more accomplished—and nowadays, it’s harder than ever to avoid having that fact thrust in one’s face.  But if we’re happy inside ourselves—if a patient tells us we’re appreciated, if we squat five pounds more than we did last week, if we love the way a new shirt looks in the mirror, if we’ve internalized a few more life lessons at the age of 35 than we had by 25—shouldn’t that quiet satisfaction be enough?

[readnowsleeplater]

Bang - Excerpt

FTC Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review from the publisher.

Hello, hello, everyone! I'm a bit late to the party today, but without further ado, here's an excerpt from BANG by Barry Lyga! Read on for more info about the book, which will be released on April 18, 2017. There's also a list of stores where you can pre-order the book, and a schedule of blog tour stops. Long-time readers will know I love Barry Lyga's Jasper Dent series, and I can't wait to dig into this new pageturner. 

About the book

A chunk of old memory, adrift in a pool of blood.

Sebastian Cody did something horrible, something no one--not even Sebastian himself--can forgive. At the age of four, he accidentally shot and killed his infant sister with his father's gun.

Now, ten years later, Sebastian has lived with the guilt and horror for his entire life. With his best friend away for the summer, Sebastian has only a new friend--Aneesa--to distract him from his darkest thoughts. But even this relationship cannot blunt the pain of his past. Because Sebastian knows exactly how to rectify his childhood crime and sanctify his past. It took a gun to get him into this.

Now he needs a gun to get out.

Unflinching and honest, Bang is the story of one boy and one moment in time that cannot be reclaimed, as true and as relevant as tomorrow's headlines. Readers of This is Where It Ends, The Hate List, and Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock will appreciate this extraordinary novel.

''Heartbreaking and brutally compelling.'' --Kirkus Reviews, starred review ''[A] raw exploration of persistent social stigmas, a beautiful study of forgiveness, and an unflinching portrait of a parent's worst nightmare.'' -Publishers Weekly, starred review ''Lyga tackles a number of relevant issues in this heartbreaking novel, including gun control, suicide, and religious and racial prejudice. The pain and anguish Sebastian feels every day are raw and chafing, and the chemistry between Sebastian and Aneesa is tender and realistic.'' -School Library Journal, starred review ''Lyga manages his intensely emotional material well, creating in Sebastian a highly empathetic character....'' -Booklist

Excerpt

Mom says I should bring something to the party, even though there is nothing in the invitation to indicate this. “It’s polite,” she says. “It’s what people do.” And I wonder in which class do people learn this fact about modern life? What if I missed the class, skipped over it to take chemistry or biology? What other important social ingredients does my etiquette larder lack? 

“And what if I don’t bother?” I ask her. “What then? Why is being a little out of step such a major felony?” 

“Just do it. Don’t examine it; don’t dissect it.” 

“You’d think if they wanted me to bring something, they would say so.” 

“They don’t want you to. But you do anyway.” 

“That makes no sense. Doesn’t it make more sense for us to agree on something, together?” 

She sighs, but it’s not her annoyed sigh. It’s her my son is so goofy and so smart sigh, the much rarer variety. But since things are going well right now, I figure maybe this is a good time to broach another topic: “Like back on the last day of school. You wanted to talk and I didn’t and—” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you brought up Lola and I threw up?” 

Her face goes tight. “Not now.” 

“Look, I just wanted to . . . I’m just thinking that maybe we need a way to talk about it. Her. You know? Isn’t it time?” Past time. I should try, I should make a real effort, before I go. Go away. 

With a grimace, she flaps her hands. “You’re going to be late. Don’t be rude to these people.” 

Typical. She brings it up; I recoil. I bring it up; she recoils. We’re never in sync. 

And there’s no arguing with parental authority. At her insistence, I bring a two-liter bottle of soda, as well as a truly gigantic bag of potato chips. Balancing the two of them while riding my bike would be impossible, so I have no choice but to accede to Aneesa’s snarky wish and walk to her house. 

The cookout is attended by maybe fifteen people, a decent enough total for a backyard barbecue, perhaps, but a poor representation of the neighborhood in general. Easily four hundred people live in this development. How many did the Fahims invite? I’m willing to bet most of them. 

There’s a red, white, and blue paper tablecloth on a picnic table piled high with bags of chips and pretzels, a card table stocked with drinks and cups (to which I add my two-liter bottle, it vanishing like a chameleon among its fellows), and a large plastic tub filled with ice and bottles of water. No beer, I notice. 

The grill billows forth great gusts of fragrant smoke. I take a peek—burgers and dogs, along with delicious-smelling basted barbecue chicken skewers. 

“It’s Alexander the Great!” Aneesa’s dad says, spying me lurking by the grill. 

“I didn’t cut your cords,” I remind him. 

“More like Theseus, then,” he amends. 

“Maybe more like Ariadne.” Theseus navigated the labyrinth, true, but Ariadne was the one who gave him the ball of twine and the idea in the first place, so let’s give her her due. 

He laughs and slaps my shoulder, then wields his barbecue tongs with a flourish, gesturing to the grill. 

“What can I get you?” 

I’m not a big eater, but it smells so good that I want one of each. “I’ll try the chicken.” 

“Good man!” He tongs a juicy skewer onto a paper plate for me and presents it with a little bow. “Enjoy. Aneesa’s around here somewhere. . . .” 

“I’ll find her. Thanks, Mr. Fahim.” 

He pauses just a moment, then says, “Call me Joe. Everyone does.” 

“Okay, Mr. Fahim.”

“Joe,” he admonishes, shaking his tongs in faux outrage. 

“Joe. Right.” 

I step off to the side with my skewer and do what I do best: watch. Mingling has never been my strong suit. My public life began with concentrated doses of overwhelming pity (“You poor boy!”) before transitioning into a bewildered scrutiny (“He’s still around?”) and then finally settling into a resigned acceptance of my continued existence, marked mostly by tight smiles and sharp nods and general avoidance of conversation. 

Most of the people in the neighborhood ought to be able to manage at least that level of politeness. I don’t need people to approach me, just as long as they don’t outright avoid me. Mr. Marchetti and his wife are here, without her son, Don. Too bad. He’s older than I am, but I could have at least made small talk about the comic book he publishes in the school lit journal. He’s probably off somewhere with his girlfriend, a noted psychotic who has spent as much time in a mental ward as at school. 

The chicken is delicious, slightly cumin-y, with a hint of garlic in the sauce. It’s skewered with marinated onions and peppers, and I’m in some sort of chicken heaven, scanning the backyard for Aneesa, thinking how great it is that I can joke around with Mr. Fahim, when it hits me: The Fahims don’t know about me. 

About who I am and what I’ve done.

Excerpted from BANG © Copyright 2017 by Barry Lyga. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.

Read more excerpts from BANG and find out more about Barry Lyga on the blog tour!

Teenreads (3/30) Novel Novice (3/31) Short & Sweet Reviews (4/3) Young Adult Books Central (4/6) Read Now, Sleep Later (4/10) Sleeps on Tables (4/12) The Cover Contessa (4/14) Mundie Moms (4/27)

Pre-order a copy of BANG

Changing Hands, Tempe, AZ  http://www.changinghands.com/book/9780316315500  Books of Wonder, NYC http://www.booksofwondershop.com/bang.aspx  Addendum Books, St Paul http://addendumbooks.blogspot.com  Blue Willow, Houston http://www.bluewillowbookshop.com/barry-lyga-bang-pre-order  BookPeople, Austin http://www.bookpeople.com/book/9780316315500  Little Shop of Stories, Decatur http://littleshopofstories.com 

About the Author

Called a “YA rebel-author” by Kirkus Reviews, Barry Lyga has published seventeen novels in various genres in his eleven-year career, including the New York Times bestselling I Hunt Killers. His books have been or are slated to be published in more than a dozen different languages in North America, Australia, Europe, and Asia. After graduating from Yale with a degree in English, Lyga worked in the comic book industry before quitting to pursue his lifelong love of writing. In 2006, his first young adult novel, The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl, was published to rave reviews, including starred reviews from Booklist and School Library Journal. Publishers Weekly named Lyga a “Flying Start” in December 2006 on the strength of the debut. His second young adult novel, Boy Toy, received starred reviews in SLJ, Publishers Weekly, and Kirkus. VOYA gave it its highest critical rating, and the Chicago Tribune called it “…an astounding portrayal of what it is like to be the young male victim.” His third novel, Hero-Type, according to VOYA “proves that there are still fresh ideas and new, interesting story lines to be explored in young adult literature.” Since then, he has also written Goth Girl Rising (the sequel to his first novel), as well as the Archvillain series for middle-grade readers and the graphic novel Mangaman (with art by Colleen Doran). His latest series is I Hunt Killers, called by the LA Times “one of the more daring concepts in recent years by a young-adult author” and an “extreme and utterly alluring narrative about nature versus nurture.” The first book landed on both the New York Times and USA Today bestsellers lists. Lyga lives and podcasts near New York City with his wife, Morgan Baden, and their nigh-omnipotent daughter. His comic book collection is a lot smaller than it used to be, but is still way too big.

I hope you'll all add Bang to your Goodreads TBR shelves and check it out when it debuts in about a week. Better yet, click on one of the pre-order links above and get ready to read!