#Oral-B Toothbrush

[90s-2000s-barbie]

Rugrats & Nickelodeon Oral-B Toothbrushes / Toothpaste (1998) 🦷 🪥

[misforgotten2]

And so the OCD begins.

American Home - December 1964

[bundlebrent]

Pros: definitely remembered to brush my teeth last night

Cons: Apparently left the bathroom while doing so and now cannot find my toothbrush

[strangewolfbird]

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[vitagr]

خفن ترین و به روز ترین مسواک دستی اورال بی 🪥

انقدر تکنولوژی و ویژگی داره که باید ساعت ها در موردش صحبت کرد

تا پایان هفته آینده می توانید این مسواک رو به همراه دو یدک فقط ۶۵۹ هزار تومان تهیه کنید

کد تخفیف : vitaclic

📣 نکته مهم 📣 این کد تخفیف فقط روی “ ست مسواک و یدک اورال بی کلیک “ کار می کنه و روی خود مسواک خالی یا یدک خالی قابل استفاده نیست !

لینک خرید محصول 👇🏻

https://vitagr.com/oralb-clic-toothbrush-and-brush-head-set/

#مسواک #مسواک_اورال_بی #اورال_بی #اورالبی #اورال_بی_کلیک #oralb #oralbclic #toothbrush

[chasejlondon]

@OralB 3D CLINICAL INTENSIVE WHITENING TOOTHPASTE (BRIGHT BRILLIANCE)

Gives you WHITER TEETH IN ONE DAY*, that you can feel from the very first brush,working instantly!

https://youtube.com/shorts/ciVda7OSnRw?si=rRSy4vAvAyVWpd8J

#oralb #teethwhitening #ad #TheOralBWhite #savvycircle @SuperSavvyMeUK #content

[bestonetech]

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[croydivision]

Pearly whites... price is right

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[139123]

Click Here>>>

Oral-B Pro 5000 Smartseries Power Rechargeable Electric Toothbrush with Bluetooth Connectivity,,,,

About this item

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Pressure sensor lights up on brush and smartph1 if you brush too hard. 5 modes: Daily Clean, Gum Care, Sensitive, Whitening, and Deep Clean

To maintain the maximum battery capacity of the rechargeable battery, unplug the charging unit and fully discharge the handle with regular use at least every 6 months

[dissociacrip]

i saw that one disability-related post a while ago about dental care but i can't find it again so i'm gonna mention a few things as a (mild to moderately) mentally & physically disabled person, whose teeth hurt when i eat sweet stuff now + i've had a root canal due to a fall + i'm learning to take care of myself, that may or may not help other folks with their dental routine

note: i am not a dentist & this info is mostly what i've gleaned secondhand from dentists, so yeah, i am not an expert in any capacity

water flossers aren't as effective as regular flossing (doing both is actually what's most effective) but they're better than nothing & helpful in cases where coordination problems or other issues might prevent regular flossing technique (i imagine this also depends on the quality of the water flosser)

if you use one of the plastic pre-made floss picks things, rinse the string off in-between each time you use it to floss one side of a tooth, it's tedious but it mimics moving to a new (clean) part of the thread like you do with regular floss

if you get an automatic toothbrush, get one that does circular rotation rather than just vibrating or whatever, as this mimics the tools they use in a dentist's office + imitates the circular motion you're expected to make with a standard toothbrush (which is also hard with coordination issues), i got one that does this pretty cheap from walmart (it's an oral-b but i forgot the specific type) + it automatically times it for you

if you have white spots on your teeth that are uneven with the shade of the rest of the tooth those are potentially white spot lesions due to demineralization; whitening products can make this worse rather than help it, but some products can help with remineralization such as mi paste topical tooth creme, which contains calcium and phosphate (i have yet to try this myself but it seems to get suggested by a lot of dentists, orthodontists, etc. for white spots on teeth & it's also supposed to help with sensitivity and tooth health in general because the white spots are lesions so it's not purely cosmetic!)

it's advised to not rinse your mouth immediately after brushing as this potentially dilutes & reduces the effects of the flouride (if you use fluoride toothpaste), stuff says to wait at least 15 minutes or so

just giving your teeth a quick scrub (even if it's without toothpaste and just water) is better than not brushing your teeth at all

if you have trouble seeing a dentist for financial reasons, try to see if there are income-based or charity dental services in your area, sometimes dental schools also provide low-cost/free dental care

that's all i can think of for now, i wish i had more advice for people who struggle to be able to brush their teeth at all in general but this is all i got unfortunately :(

additionally - you're not bad, useless, gross, or a failure if you struggle to (or can't) maintain oral hygiene; this stuff is much easier for some people than it is to others & those who take it for granted like to forget that, no one deserves to be mocked or looked down on for being disabled & struggling to/not being able to do """basic""" stuff like this!

[pseudophan]

unrelated to phagenda but i had a dream that d+p got a pet lizard and dan would massage(?) it with an electric toothbrush during videos (especially during ad reads). it ruined the audio and was super awkward to see this lizard getting vibrated all over during nordvpn spons

i.... at least get an oral b sponsorship or something like

[fleckcmscott]

All Wrapped Up

Summary: Arthur reaches a milestone he'd never dreamed of. Y/N pulls out all the stops.

Words: 4,735

Warnings: Adult situations, Swearing

A/N: This story was a real challenge. Figuring out these characters, their hopes and experiences and dynamics fifteen years later, felt like trying to predict the weather. And I never have an umbrella when I need it! 😂 I hope you all enjoy this piece. Thanks for reading! 💜

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Y/N gave her mouth another good swish-swash-swish and spat in the sink.

Lukewarm water rinsed her Oral-B toothbrush; she it shook off and returned to its charger. She drew a round brush through steely brown locks, a dollop of mousse in the bristles to lend the feathering a touch of fluff.

Three perfume bottles stood on the shelf to her left. She chose the pink tapered oval in the middle, a gift from Arthur called Here's The Heart, the fragrance of daffodils and sunlight and his latest favorite. She dabbed it on her wrists, her collarbone, the pulse point of her neck. Sandy shadow brightened her eyes and rosewine painted her lips, a sultry red saved for special occasions.

Crouched on one knee, she dug out the personal lubricant hidden behind her tampons, which had been on standby for two months. (Alarm had frozen her solid when her monthly had hit six weeks late. But then she'd remembered that at fifty-four, it was to be expected.) She smeared an ounce between her legs. A warmup for both their benefit - and a sure ego boost that'd rev his engine. Make him grin that cocky grin.

Glass of water in hand, she padded out of the bath.

She tiptoed to her side of the bed and set the water on the nightstand. Morning's first light seeped past the edges of the window shades. She gave one a quick but quiet pull, held the bottom bar until it rose halfway.

Soft and gauzy as a favorite dream, sunrays cast a hazy hue on Arthur's pallid skin. A light snore caught in the back of his throat. He lay supine, one hand curled against his breast, the toes of his left foot sticking out from the emerald, blue, and mauve kaleidoscoped comforter. The perfect position for what she had planned.

Biting down a wicked giggle, she shimmied out of her robe and dove under the covers headfirst.

Muted confusion from above. Grumbles and groans. A skinny thigh shifted beneath her palm. She swallowed around him and continued on.

Fingertips patted polyester, as though searching for a flashlight in the dark. At her back, her shoulder, her head.

A squeeze to his sculpted hip, nails a whisper along his v-line...

The comforter lifted, followed by the sheet. Arthur squinted through the crevice. "Christ, you're naked."

The giggle she'd bitten down spilled forth, nose nuzzling at his coarse curls. He grasped her upper arm and tugged.

"What did you expect?" She crawled up his body, lips following a familiar path along his stomach, his chest. "You only turn fifty once. Happy birthday."

"Mmm." In a flash, he grabbed her ass and rolled on top of her. Kissed her softly, then kissed her hardly, mouth swooping to collide with hers. He tasted of stale nicotine and the smell of rust after a rainstorm. She sought to freshen it with her Aquafreshed tongue.

But he broke off, coughed into his elbow. A smoker's cough that'd worsened with the chill of November and the radiator heat that accompanied it. She decided to give him his second present early, right after this gift for them both.

When he stole the water from her nightstand, she narrowed her eyes. "Hey, I was planning on using that."

"I know." Green irises met hers, a direct stare that set the pit of her stomach in a wild swirl. That stare stayed locked on hers as he emptied the glass. Slow, deliberate, his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow.

She played with the spartan hairs on his chest. "I noticed a couple grey hairs while I was down there. You're officially an old man now."

"You mean I'm finally catching up to you?"

"Uh huh." Her toes ran along his calf. Its muscle twitched. "You're going to start getting flyers from Gotham's Senior League and the Elk's Club."

Amusement crinkled his face, half-lidded eyes enthralling in their relaxed contentment. While his black whiskers had gone white, his sideburns remained sterling, his loose curls cinnamon and sugar. Lines had become faint tattoos on his forehead, and the crevices on his cheeks had grown longer, deeper, framing his thin lips and doubling his dimples. Wrinkles crisscrossed the bottom of his chin, and the fold beneath it was twelve percent squishier.

But he was as alluring as ever. As handsome as the night she'd first lain in this very bed with him.

Desire swelled her heart, a thump-thump that was suddenly ten times louder.

She clutched his shoulders and purred. "Fuck me, old man."

Laughing, he took hold of the headboard.

And took charge.

~~~~~

"During our last session, you talked about how challenging turning fifty would be." Dr. Ludlow spoke around the ballpoint pen in her mouth. "How are you doing now that the day is here?"

Blurs from this morning seared Arthur's memory, the saltiness of sweat and skin. He felt the fierce heat of a blush and gulped the brazen images away. "I feel good."

"That's great." She lowered herself to her armchair and put her stoneware mug opposite the ashtray on the coffee table. Planted her pen firmly between forefinger and thumb. "How have you worked through last month's feelings?"

"Um, I dunno. I've written in my journal a lot."

"Take a minute to think it over. We've discussed how milestones can trigger mood swings. What's been your strategy to avoid that, and what does your birthday mean to you today?"

He shoved the tip of his tongue in the fleshy part of his cheek.

Fifty. He'd never imagined reaching fifty. Forty-five maybe, just old enough for his body to start falling apart to match his mind. Even when he'd crawled out of bouts of malaise and hadn't wanted to die, the age had remained as intangible as a good reputation and the clout that went with it.

Business was slow but stable. Kids were losing interest in clowns, preferring cartoon characters or Barney or Power Rangers, whatever the hell they were. Birthday parties were getting slimmer, special events and holidays were getting busier. He had a reliable list of regulars. It all evened out.

But his heart remained devoted to his first love - comedy. He'd been chasing that dream for fifteen years. With stardom continuing to elude him, the event horizon of his fifth decade felt like a sign the time to achieve it was running out.

He tapped his Stutton over the ashtray. "I want things I haven't gotten yet. Being a famous standup, you know? Everything comes so easily for some people, and I've been working and working and-" A flinch against the sinewy frustration rising in his breast. God, why did therapy sometimes make him feel worse? Couldn't he skip the soul-searching on his special day? Why hadn't he rescheduled when she'd offered? He breathed on a 3-4-5 count. "I'm trying to remember I can't see the future. Just what I want it to be."

Her pen jotted. "I wonder what your life would look like if you were famous. What you would get out of it."

"I've told you," he said, glancing at her in disbelief. How could he make it any clearer? "I'd make people smile. They'd know who I am, that I'm funny and good."

"Don't you have that now?"

"What do you mean?"

"The people in your life. Y/N, your friends, your family in Missouri. They know you, that you're funny and good. What difference would fame make?" Each syllable pricked, firm but kind points that dulled to prods.

He hesitated, measuring himself. Found he felt about six inches short and not a little pathetic for having the same longings as the lost, lonely man he'd thought he'd left behind. Ancient insecurities aroused, he tucked his hands under his thighs.

After a moment, Dr. Ludlow set her legal pad on the table and moved to sit on the sofa. She left a professional one cushion space between them. "Goals give us a sense of purpose, a way to navigate tough times. Having them is one of the reasons you've done so well. But what I'm hearing is that you want acceptance. You want to be loved." A beat. "You already have that, Arthur. Don't forget it."

His throat shrank to a straw. Her words carried a reality he no longer doubted; he'd lived enough for them to be more than theory. But spoken aloud by a witness to his life, they were engraved with the power of unvarnished truth A truth he could revel in, relax in, cherish and count on.

A truth that brought him joy the way nothing else could.

There was his ever-present wife. The million dollar baby he'd found in the freezer section of a grocery store. She'd made a mistake after their earlier lovemaking, but mistakes were part and parcel of years together, so it'd been all right. Her reasons had been sweet, and she'd promised not to repeat it.

And a card from his in-laws had arrived last week, happiness in a mint green envelope. A bluebird in a mulberry bush wished that on his birthday, he'd find everything he desired, no matter how small. Tangible proof that he mattered, that they were thinking of him even hundreds of miles away.

Wetness burned the outer corners of his eyes. He swiped at them with the sleeve of his cardigan. Hitched chuckles built in him, like the climbing roar of applause at the end of a successful set.

He was fifty and he was loved.

Dr. Ludlow offered a box of tissues. In a tone woven with kindness she asked, "Would you like to talk about your plans to celebrate, or keep them for your journal?"

~~~~~

Kneeling on the back of the red, round booth, Y/N reached to hang the Happy Birthday banner on the wall. "Is it even?"

Patricia spoke from two yards behind her. "If Arthur tilts his head."

A chuckle on her lips and a song in her heart, Y/N slid the Y three inches lower and stuck it with a pin. One of the perks of being a long-time regular at Kao-Wah's was the ability to commandeer the back corner, the one by the bar. (That it was an uncrowded Thursday didn't hurt.)

After this morning's misstep, she was determined to make this evening perfect.

She climbed down backwards, kitten heel brushing padded vinyl before finding the floor. She pushed a four-top against the booth's six-top table, just the right amount of space for guests, and the cake Patricia had helped her make. Mandarin with homemade frosting, made with unsalted butter, powdered sugar, milk, and canned oranges. Ingredients Y/N could handle with a best friend.

Patricia ripped open two crepe streamers, one teal and one yellow. "Has he seen you in that yet?" She indicated Y/N's outfit with a nod.

Her dress was a number she'd picked up at L. Ballinger's summer closeout. Tiered Chantilly lace, ivory, with a dropped bodice and long sleeves, it revealed enough to remind Arthur of what she was hiding. Pretty and feminine, swingy and fun. She took the end of the streamers, walked backwards to unroll and twist them together. "I saved it for tonight."

"You'll knock him dead," Patricia said with a wink.

Y/N taped the crepe paper along the chairs, akin to a velvet rope at a red carpet announcing a Very Important Person was on the way. A small bundle of balloons rose from each end of the table, completing the cheery decor. Hand on one hip, she surveyed their handiwork and smiled.

Patricia ordered two sparking wines and took a seat at the bar. "When Robert turned fifty, I planned a romantic evening to celebrate. Strawberries dipped in chocolate, massage oils, rose petals in the bathtub, the works. Well, I'm in the tub waiting for him to come home - he refused to take the day off - candles all around the room.

"The front door opens, and I straighten my legs and stick out my chest like a pinup. He stumbles in, drenched in oil and coolant, and he says, 'What the hell are you doing? I need a shower!'" Shoulders shaking with laughter, she wagged her head. "He hopped in there, rose petals and all, all the while I'm running around blowing out candles before the shower curtain goes up in flames. I'd never moved so fast. And I thought life at fifty would be boring."

"You're the most exciting old dame I've ever met." Y/N pecked her cheek and slid onto the stool beside her. There was a gold serving basket brimming with fortune cookies to her left. She snagged one from the middle, cracked it open, and popped the sugary wafer in her mouth. Ears filled with crunching, she read the bit of wisdom contained within: You cannot love life until you live the life you love.

An unexpected but welcome melancholy washed over her. The ripples of her life had ebbed and flowed, but living with Arthur was a steady joy. He was very much the man she'd fallen in love with. Gentle with a streak of shyness but determined to speak up and pursue what he desired. But he'd grown, too. Exited the purgatory between adulthood and adolescence neglect had locked him in. He'd learned to trust himself, to like himself on good days, now the vast majority.

She folded the fortune, to be placed in her purse with her compact and pager. "I can't imagine ever being bored with Arthur. I'm proud of him. He's done a lot of work to get here. I'm lucky I've been the one to see him do it."

"You haven't just seen it. You've helped."

Her insides twirled, a pleasant tickling at her navel. "We've helped each other." She sipped at the wine glass and continued. "There is one other thing I've been trying to help him with. Maybe you'll have an idea..."

Y/N went over the scene of the crime, albeit without the salacious (Patricia would have called them fun) details. She'd started in right as Arthur'd pulled his briefs past his knees. He must have recognized the shape and weight of a cassette booklet. Irises sparkling, he'd asked what music collection she'd gotten for his Walkman.

He'd ripped the balloon patterned wrapping paper from the squeaky plastic. Squinted down at tiny red letters on white tapes.

"'Stop smoking with the Gotham Lung Association?'"

He pushed them away and rolled his eyes. Stood and yanked his underwear over his hips. "I wish you'd stop using special occasions for that. Telling me to quit smoking. Especially on my birthday. I'm down to half a pack a day!" He grabbed his pajama bottoms from the vanity. "I know you don't like it. You haven't liked it for fifteen years."

"But I need five more decades of you," she'd said, clambering on hands and knees to his side of the bed. She'd caught his pantleg, drew him to her a with a gentle tug. Despite her tenderness, annoyance kept his brows furrowed.

She'd pecked his thumb, the back of his hand, the knobby part of his wrist. Then her gaze had lifted, her resolve softened by apology. "All right. I won't pester you about it on your birthday anymore." Her slight shrug and unsure smile had twisted his grimace into a grin. "May I keep Christmas?"

Patricia gaped at her, an Are You Serious look. "You thought today would be good to remind him of what annoys you?"

"That's not what I meant. I realize it was a dumb thing to do. I just..." Chin propped on her knuckles, Y/N huffed. "If I were to lose him because of that nasty habit, I'd be devastated."

The clink of glass on the walnut bar top. "You meant well. You always mean well." One cheek hanging off the stool, Patricia hugged Y/N at the waist. "Getting older isn't easy. Let the man enjoy it. And learn to take a day off."

A slight nod as Y/N's shoulders slackened, tension ebbing away. There was something about Patricia's blunt kindness that made her feel wonderful, like she was the little sister for a change.

Y/N swirled the rest of her wine, deciding that one fun detail couldn't hurt. "Besides that, we had a great morning. I made sure he didn't mind waking up early."

~~~~~

Arthur wished he wore a watch so he could check it.

He was supposed to met Y/N in front of Kao Wah's after she got out of work, around five-thirty. Though he'd left the apartment at five and ridden the train for nine stops, there was no sign of her. He patted his left breast, then reached under the winter coat's placket to check the inner pocket.

Folded into quarters, the late arrival remained in place. His mouth curved in relief.

His toes tapped the sidewalk, he puffed clouds into the autumn air. Another minute and he rummaged through his pocket for a quarter. There was a payphone on the corner. He'd call her office in case she'd been delayed.

Three steps later, Y/N's call met his back. "Arthur!"

Holding Kao Wah's door open with one foot, she waved at him and waved him towards her. "I'm sorry," she said when he was an arm's length away. "I wanted to grab our favorite booth while it was free."

But he'd only registered a couple of words, the syllables after her sorry a muffled drone. "Look what came in the mail today. It must've gotten lost." He retrieved the October-dated letter from his coat, not looking up or around, too busy buzzing to pay attention as she held his elbow and guided him inside. "Ruthie's coming next month. She- she wants to go to Gotham University." The mere possibility of having family nearby nearly scuttled the reason for tonight's engagement.

"Really?" Y/N smoothed his hair back, unbuttoned his formally-puffy-now-lumpy coat. "Mabel hasn't mentioned it. Either she's gotten better at keeping secrets or Ruthie hasn't told her. I hope it's the former." Y/N continued, pulling him along." It's too bad she couldn't make it this month. She could've helped us all celebrate."

A slight flinch of his head. "Who's all?"

"Happy birthday!" a chorus of cheery voices cried.

The heavy lashes that shaded his cheeks flew up, eyes as wide as a Mun Shou platter.

Patricia and Robert, Ryan and Sheila from Gotham Elementary. Gary - no, not that Gary, who was in England visiting family - but a fellow aspiring comic Arthur had gotten to know during open mic nights at the Smile Factory and Pogo's. A circle but a tight one, a clockface with each person a numeral, a sign of the progress of his life.

Slanting his gaze to Y/N, he tucked the letter in his pocket. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I wanted to," she said, warmth in her cocoa gaze. "We all did."

A slight sway, a tuck of the chin. He ran a hand down his vintage, black suit jacket and tightened his neck. Dressing up to the nines for her had been the plan, a playful way to make their date extraordinary. But at the crowd's casual attire, he felt a little left-footed. "I'm overdressed," he murmured,

Y/N adjusted his lapels. "You look wonderful."

He loosened his large bowtie, the size you'd see during a 1976 Oscar broadcast, so that it draped untied at the neck. Plucked the collar button of his dress shirt and made of show of pulling it down. Once adjusted, he gave her form a demure but thorough ogling. Nearly bare shoulders, a neckline he longed to kiss, the dip of her waist beneath the lining and lace. He'd glue his hand there later. He wet his lips. "Thanks. So do you."

"Come on, sit down." Patricia wore a wry grin. "Before you two set off the sprinklers and ruin the party."

A buffet of Arthur's favorites and a couple new dishes swamped the table. The five spice beef was the perfect winter warmer, the pan-fried noodles with vegetables expertly seared. Moo goo gai pan and chicken chow mien arrived on oversized platters. The egg rolls were extra crispy and the pork fried rice extra sticky. The first round of drinks were on him and Y/N; she ordered Mai Tais between pots of oolong tea.

He'd gotten better at chitchat, gained the confidence to take a chance, perfect the small stage. As the dinner wore on, he noted how natural it felt to break off into side conversations. Succeeded in listening and responding without have to wonder if his instincts had led him down the street of weird. He knew what to do with his hands.

Years of budget cuts had hit the school system like a mallet, and more and more fundraisers tried to make up the difference. Bake sales and book fairs, ticket raffles and auctions. Ryan and Sheila discussed the school's upcoming winter carnival, which Arthur had been a regular part of for a decade. And at events he wasn't hired for (at a reduced rate), he gladly volunteered. It was easier to give of himself now that he had a quadraphonic life instead of mono.

Patricia had convinced Robert to finally, finally sell Gorman Fire and Ice to their grandson for a song, so they could finally, finally take a vacation, a trip to the Bahamas since Cuba was no longer allowed.

Suit jacket slung across the back of his chair, Arthur jotted on a napkin while he and Gary went over the rotation of open mic nights across a sea of clubs, and a new guy in the biz who had a habit of stealing jokes.

An hour later, while he was still high on carbs and comfort in his own skin, Y/N presented him with a cake. Two tiers, rectangular, specks of orange dotting its pale yellow frosting. He leaned into her, mouth agape. "You made this?" He took a languid bite, licked the frosting from his lips and stole another. The mandarin sponge melted on his tongue. He hummed, wrapped an arm around her. "I have a sneaking suspicion I'll want you to make me a cake every birthday."

She snorted into her tea and called across the table. "Patricia, could you pencil me in for a cake lesson every November for the next thirty years?"

Patricia served herself a second slice. "I'll be busy in Acapulco."

Once the check was brought and the leftovers started to be scraped into oyster pails, Arthur stood, scooting his chair away with the backs of his calves. Rapped a fork against his Mai Tai coupe the way he'd seen on TV. Rolled the Tiki themed stem between thumb and forefinger. Studied the amber liquid and considered the right thing to say.

"Thank you for coming," he began, hewing close to the opening of a comedy set. He giggled at the association, an arc of inspiration sparking. "When I was a young man, I thought fifty would mean nights at home with no friends. But now I worry my bad knee'll go out more than I do."

Laughter danced across his friends' faces. He reveled in their smiles, their open admiration. Dr. Ludlow's earlier counsel echoed at the base of his skull. He exhaled a long, satisfied sigh. "I'm glad you all care about me and are here to celebrate."

"You're a jolly good fellow," Patricia said, and raised her teacup for a toast.

Y/N reached out, laced her fingers with his own. Brimming with tenderness, her gaze lifted to his. "Here's to many, many more."

~~~~~

It was just after nine o'clock in 4A. Y/N had traded her dress for stirrup leggings and an off-the-shoulder sweater. Arthur remained resplendent in his evening wear. They'd made a pot of decaf and planned to call Ruthie on the weekend, invite her to stay with them during her visit.

Ready to be returned on tomorrow's lunch break, the smoking cessation tapes sat dejected in Y/N's canvas tote bag. Way back in '81, she'd said she'd get him to quit if it was the last thing she did. It was hard for her to let go. But he'd given her permission to nag at Christmas, and if he wanted to take steps to quit, he knew how. It had to be up to him.

Cross-legged on the carpet, he sat by the coffee table and tore open another gift. He held up the VHS in triumph. "I've Always Loved You," he read, then flipped it over to scan the summary. "I don't think I've seen this."

"Me neither." She perched on the sofa, to his left. "But it's from 1946 and the title's true. There's one more present. Close your eyes."

Leaning back on his hands, he did. She bent over the side of the sofa, retrieved what she'd shoved underneath before his wake-up call. The light weight dropped on his lap with a soft rustling.

One eye cracked open, then the other, surprise engulfing his entire visage. A cautious palm skimmed the tweed carpet bag, a blue and red plaid to go with his clown costume. (His usual nylon prop bags had started to fray after six months. Their novice repairs lasted about two.) Parallel to the bag's top zipper was a bronze nameplate: Carnival.

Arthur fidgeted with the handle. "I'll need a gig at Wayne Hall to use this."

"Open it."

He dragged the zipper's tab an inch. Peeked inside the bag before dragging it further. "Oh..."

Gingerly, he took out the Kala ukulele, reddish brown like mahogany, its four tuners pearl and chrome. The certificate pasted in the soundhole had a manufacture date of 1972, but the instrument looked untouched, as though forgotten in the back of a closet.

"I know getting new clients has been harder the last couple of years. This might help. The library has VHS music lessons you can check out." She knelt behind him and cupped his shoulders. "The strings were put on last week."

His fingertips flitted over the neck, began to pluck the G and C strings at a beginner's tempo. Not quite a match for the notes he played, he crooned a version of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." Gravelly and half hummed, the way you'd sing a lullaby to a sleepy child.

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a..." The music came to a gradual stop. "Do you ever wish for more?"

"More of you? Always."

"Today Dr. Ludlow asked what I'd get out of being famous. I thought about it when I got Ruthie's letter. And at the party." The corners of his mouth turned inward. "Do you think I ever will be?"

Y/N nibbled her bottom lip. Tried to find the balance between the truth as she saw it and greater possibilities. Magazines and television implored women to feel like they were defective for aging (and going by the ads for men's hair color, they were about to be dragged into the same predicament.) Popular culture focused on the young. The next Big Thing wasn't old enough to buy a bottle of wine. At Arthur's age, fame was unlikely. For that matter, it'd be unlikely for anyone at any age.

She'd never wanted to be anything special, just herself and to do some good while she was at it. Arthur's outsized need for attention was one of their biggest differences. But she understood where it came from, understood him. His wish for fame was a tough and twisty bit of scar-tissue on his soul.

"There's so much left to chance," she said. "Timing and connections, the right person in the right audience on the right night. That any of us get what we want is a miracle."

A light nod, as nearly imperceptible as his voice. "I still wanna try."

"Good." She wrapped her arms about him, lay her palm above his heart. "Miracles can't happen if we don't."

He grasped her hand. Kissed the back of it and kissed her wrist. "Not everyone makes it. To fifty, I mean. I might not have. I'm happy I did."

Smiling, Y/N grasped his jaw and tilted his head back. Bent over him to seal their mouths. "Me, too," she whispered. "Me, too."

~~~~~

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[venic-bxtch]

𖤓Crossing the Divide𖤓

𖤓Part 2𖤓

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!pouge!reader

Warnings: Cussing, Rafe kinda babying the reader, some trauma dumping, meanish Rafe, suggestive(I think)

The bed was King sized with a white wooden frame and pink floral designs on the bedsheets, blankets, and pillows. It also had a pink mesh mosquito net. The rest of the room had white walls and filigree designs on the borders. You had 2 dressers, a massive closet, and a vanity. You also had a desk with a laptop on it. Rafe had left a note on it saying you could start applying for colleges and scholarships, and take necessary classes and tests.

You got up, yawned and stretched. You heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.” You said in groggy voice, as you stifled a yawn.

The door opened and Rafe walked in. He was holding a few Chanel and Louis Vuitton shopping bags, and some unopened packages. He had already gotten ready. He wore a black polo shirt with khaki shorts, his prized rings, and gold watch.

“Mornin’ doll face.” He smiled and put the items on the bench in front of your bed.

You looked at him with a little smile,”Good morning Rafe.”

He sat by you on the bed,”How’d you sleep?”

You sighed dreamily, remembering the absolute paradise you felt while sleeping,”Amazing. I actually slept through the night for once.”

He stroked your cheek,”You’ve never slept through the night, doll face?”

You shook your head,”Nope. Back at my house, I’m using a 10 year old mattress. It’s stuffed with a bunch of random stuff, I never cared to check.”

He pursed his lips and spoke in your ear in a low tone,”I’ll make sure to take good care of you. You won’t regret this.”

You were sure your face was on fire. You were falling for his tricks.

You looked at him, smiling,”Thank you.”

“Of course, doll face. How bout you get ready, and I’ll take you for a lil’ drive. We should get ice cream.”

You nodded,”That sounds good. I’ll be down in like 10 minutes.”

He scoffed,”Oh sweet thing. You’re gonna be exfoliating that skin, moisturizing it, and putting on makeup and perfume. That’s gonna take a while. How bout you brush your teeth then eat breakfast?” You nodded rapidly, you haven’t eaten a good meal for days. He patted your thigh once,”Alright I’ll be downstairs.” He smiled and walked off.

You got off the bed and walked to the en-suite bathroom. He had put out an Oral-B toothbrush and toothpaste for you. You rinsed your mouth out. You shuffled back into the bedroom in the cold hardwood to get your bunny slippers. You gently padded down the stairs to the dining room. There were 2 plates with pancakes and bacon with iced tea for you and coffee for Rafe.

Rafe was fidgeting with his ring while taking slow sips of his black coffee. He looked up with a massive grin on his face,”Doll face.” He got up to pull out a chair for you. He put it right next to his in a vertical position. He patted the cushion of the seat,”Come on, sit.”

You nodded and spoke quietly,”Ok.” You slowly sat down. You observed the food.

He chuckled,”Don’t worry dollie. I ain’t gonna kill ya’.”

You sighed, knowing that you’d regret your words,”You murdered Perterkin. That’s why I’m a little afraid of you…” you trailed off.

He grabbed your face forcefully, his tone more aggressive,”Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth! You’re gonna listen. You’re gonna listen good doll face. I didn’t fuckin’ kill Peterkin. It was that John B.” He let your face go roughly,”You got that?”

You looked down,”Yes..”

“Good. Now eat up. We have places to be.”

A few tears rolled down your cheek and fell in your lap. Quiet sobs exited your mouth. You always hated when people yelled at you.

He sighed,”Hey dollie, I didn’t mean to be so aggressive……” he rubbed your back, shushing you,”I’ll be better. I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, “you still hungry?” You shook your head,”You still wanna go out?” You shook your head. He picked you up out of the chair bridal style,”I’ll but you back to bed. I’ll be right by you,Ok?”

You calmed your crying down,”Ok.” This man was sick. He was manipulating you and you still fell for it. You haven’t had anyone but your friends care for you. But this felt different.

He gently placed you down on the bed, helping you take your slippers off. He laid down right next to you, his hand loosely on your waist.

He whispered,”I just want someone to care about me, and be with me, and help me…all my family’s gone. They don’t care. Most people don’t like me. Fuck, Topper and Kelc don’t really like me anyway. You actually give a shit. I can tell.”

You whispered back,”Oh…my family is gone too. My parents died in a shipwreck. I’ve been scared of the sea since forever. I just don’t have anywhere to go. My other family members don’t know I exist.” You put your hand on his, tracing his insignia ring.

“You’re better than me. You didn’t start doin’ drugs and selling em’”

“I started smoking.”

He let out a quiet laugh,”I’ve done it all, dollie.”

END OF PART 2

[ibeautyblog]

iHerb: Reviewing My #34 Order

NEW POST :)

I managed to get two orders on Black Friday from iHerb.com, mainly of regular things that I order. It turned out really worthwhile! I tried to be focused on the important things we need and not to “scatter” because it’s too much shopping all this November This time I ordered natural shampoo and conditioner, colorful bath bombs for kids, soft baby hair brush, perfect bath sponge, electric…

[magnetothemagnificent]

Do you have dental advice for people who struggle to take care of their teeth due to disability, depression, etc? I'm afraid of needing dental work but oral hygiene is really hard for me.

Alright so my advice as a future dentist (current dental assistant, not a dentist yet):

1. Find a toothbrush you like. Doesn't matter what brand or what kind. What's important is that you brush. If a toothbrush with cartoon characters on it is what will motivate you to brush, get it.

(If the brush head is smaller, though, than the usual adult brush heads, just remember to spend a little more time on each tooth since smaller brush heads cover less surface area).

If an electric toothbrush is your jam, get an electric toothbrush. Just get a toothbrush.

2. Find a toothpaste you like. Doesn't matter what brand or flavor. They pretty much all have the same ingredients. I would highly recommend toothpastes for sensitive gums, like Sensodyne or Oral-B, because if you haven't been practicing consistent oral hygiene for a while, your gums are most likely very sensitive. But really, any toothpaste is good. Just stay away from the charcoal stuff, it's more likely to do nothing at best and cause damage at worst (especially if you take medication).

3. Try to brush twice a day, but no more than three times a day. Brushing a whole bunch one day doesn't make up for not brushing the day before, too much brushing can damage your enamel with the abrasion.

Brushing once in the morning and once at night is ideal. Try to brush before you eat breakfast, or at least half an hour after you eat. Brush for about 2 minutes, making sure you brush each surface of your teeth.

Your teeth have five surfaces, three that are accessible via brushing: Make sure you brush the sides that face your cheeks, the sides that face the inside of your mouth, and the biting surfaces.

4. Try to floss once a day. There are different flossing methods now, find one that works.

-Traditional string and fingers

-Handheld floss picks

-Electric water pick

There are pros and cons to each, but the important thing is that you floss. Flossing is important regardless of whether you have food stuck between your teeth; flossing helps remove plaque deposits between your teeth that can build up and cause irritation to the gums. Make sure you floss between each tooth. If flossing a certain groove brings up a large amount of debris, floss that area again until the string comes out clean.

5. Drink lots of water. Unfortunately, this isn't a "as long as you're hydrated situation". Other beverages can be great for hydration, but they're either very sugary or acidic or both, which aren't good for maintaining the pH in your mouth. This doesn't mean you have to give up your favourite drinks- just make sure you also drink plenty of plain old water, especially during and between meals. Do whatever you can to incentivize drinking water: fun water bottles, fun drinking straws, alarms, whatever it takes.

6. If you struggle with remembering to brush your teeth and/or floss, set alarms to remind you.

7. Try to reward yourself for practicing good oral care. Maybe put on a short YouTube clip while you floss and brush, or play a song. This may sound corny, but have a chart that if you reach a certain quota you reward yourself. It'll help you turn oral hygiene into a habit.

8. If you can afford it, try to see a hygienist to give you a full clean. At the very least they'll help get your teeth back to a baseline, and then all you need to do is maintain it. Some places will have free or reduced cost dental clinics, so keep an eye out for those if cost is an issue. Hygienists don't do any drilling or invasive dental work if that's a fear you have, all they do is essentially a very thorough brushing and flossing.

9. Keep a toothbrush and toothpaste in your shower if time and spoons are an issue, that way you can brush your teeth while bathing, knocking two out in one. Likewise, keep a toothbrush and toothpaste by your bed if getting out of bed is an issue. If you can, you can try to buy a bunch of pre-pasted disposable toothbrushes to keep by your bed, so that you don't need to worry about even having to apply toothpaste to your toothbrush.

10. Don't give up if you fall off the wagon. If you forget to brush your teeth one day, you always have the next day. If you brush your teeth but didn't floss, at least you brushed. If you flossed but only gargled mouthwash, at least you did something. Something is always better than nothing.

Best of luck!!!