#did you know that the british say ‘Bob’s your uncle’ to say ‘

[dollopole]

Of course you would be a softie inside, you give that vibe too, AND CREDIT CARD?! They teach good things in a country where there is no government 60% of the time, sign me in!

HA, I was so sure about the porn part, and if I had you as my colleague, I would appreciate the ✨art✨. Sometimes, in this world, it’s good to be a “chill, I don’t give a fuck” sort of person, I can see that in your reblogs too😭I told you you’re the definition of “Carpediem”.

I have breakdowns only with insects, and even them I don’t kill them, I just scream like a blonde woman in an horror movie and die on the spot, BUT I LOVE ANIMALS AND MOLES ARE SO CUTE😭Look at that dude. So chill, so cute (no, they have no taste).

HOW DID YOU GET THAT RIGHT?! I’m autistic, I hate human interactions (help), but when I get new informations, I get out of by Batcave just to divulge knowledge.

(Ehm… I can lock pick, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET THIS RIGHT?!) Just if the locks are the useless ones from the US, though. FBI, if you’re reading this, no, you didn’t.

Reblog this post to ask mutuals to tell you their weirdest theory about u

[moody-alcoholic]

Some ‘common’ 'British' slang phrases

Maybe I'll do a part 2 or common words one at some point... Feel free to comment ones you know, I know I missed loads. I did this instead of working on my fic.

Source - I’m British. Disclaimer - I’m northern..

Sling ya/your hook - get out of here. Bugger off - go away. Bugger all - nothing. Lost/loosing the plot - gone/going crazy. Off your trolley - doing something crazy. EX: You must be off your trolley if you think that’s going to work. Off your head - crazy. Have a gander - take a look/having a look. Faffing around - messing around/wasting time. Ass-over-tit - when someone falls over. ‘Effing and blinding - someone is swearing a lot. Not my/their cup of tea - something you/others don’t like. One off - one time thing. (going to) see a man about a dog - when you don’t want to tell someone where you’re going. Taking the piss - you’re shocked at a situation. EX: this train being late is taking the piss. Taking the biscuit - the SFW version of taking the piss. Speaking the queens English - to speak standard English. Sometimes this can mean someone is posh. Budge up/over - move over/ make space. Mugging me off/ mug me off - Someone is making fun/annoying you. Can’t be arsed - can’t be bothered. Don’t get your knickers in a twist - don’t get worked up. (You’re) having a laugh - you can’t be serious? Kicked the bucket - dead. Bang/well out of order - not fair. (I) don’t give a rats arse - don’t care. (that’s) thrown a spanner in the works - something has been disrupted or screw up. EX: Her moving the time of the party has really thrown a spanner in the works. In for a penny, in for a pound - you’ve started something you might as well finish it. Nip in/out - Quickly go somewhere. EX: I’m just going to nip to the shop. Bob’s your uncle - There you go. On your bike - fuck off/go away. Blues and two’s - emergency vehicle’s/lights. It’s been donkeys (years) - It’s been a long time. (I think this is a very northern way of saying it, you would normally say; It’s been donkeys years since I have seen her.)

Bonus It’s pissing/chucking it down - it’s raining fucking hard.

I have beef with this one… Ruined my experience when I played through Alone in MW2. Even with his accent Simon would have known what Johnny meant when he said ‘it’s pissing it down’ it’s such a common phrase especially in the north.

I literally hear and use it myself almost daily and I don’t even live in the UK. Simon would have known, he’s from Manchester for Christs sake. Anyway that dialog pisses me off.

[dreamofstarlight]

Kate, did you know the saying, “Bob’s your Uncle”, came to be with British PM Robert Gascoyne-Cecil, 3rd Marquess of Salisbury appointing his nephew to a cushy Ministerial job in 1887? interesting enough Billy was Cecil’s great-grandson.

I did not know that but it is one of my favorite British sayings, I've always wondered how it started!

[coutelier]

Lana Sane - Part One (2nd Draft)

(I won't be posting many early drafts anymore and will start to delete the old ones, but I wanted to keep an example to refer to tracking the changes that happen between drafts. So this is the start of the second draft of a novella I started a while back. About 2500 words).

Millenia ago, yet the same moon looked down on Earth as now, most of the same stars still twinkled in their slow procession through the night. And as the gears of the cosmos ever turned, a family sheltered in a cave. There were many dangers out on the tundra. So many lost to ice, sickness, and predators. Prayer would do little to mitigate the harshness of nature, but perhaps to survive as a human means looking past the cruel to gaze with awe and wonder on the magnificent. Outside was a world they could not control, but in here huddled around a fire they began to grind charcoal and other things into paste with which to celebrate the splendor of their world; the windswept plains, herds of mighty beasts, the sun, moon, sky. They began to paint.

Twenty thousand years later, twelve-year-old Tenley Tych squinted at a holographic image of their work. With her black bob hanging to one side and her arms folded, she declared like a British judge on a talent show, “it’s rubbish.”

Sat next to her in the van next to machinery covered in blinking lights, Jennifer Airhart gaped like she’d been punched in the gut, “rubbish!?”

“What’s it even supposed to be?”

“Well,” now it was Jenn’s turn to tilt and squint, “it’s a Mammoth. I think. The trunk is just a little faded.”

“I could draw a better Mammoth than that and I have never even seen a real one.”

“Okay, well I’ve seen your drawings so-“ Jenn quickly revised what she was about to say under the intensity of Tenley’s dark eyed stare. “You know, it’s not about whether you’re a better artist than a caveman. The point is that even separated by thousands of years your ancestors also felt the need to create; humans were the first animals to make things not for survival but just so they could appreciate them. Doesn’t that make you feel something? Anything?”

“Can’t have been my ancestors,” Tenley shrugged, “whoever did that had no talent.”

Jennifer sighed, blonde hair covering her face as she hung in near defeat. She had a flashback to school trips to museums and her being the only kid in her class not interested in just fooling around. She had hoped to instill in her ward a sense of the wonder she felt, but Tenley just wasn’t receptive right now.

Tapping her foot impatiently Tenley said, “What I don’t understand is that you always talk about how amazing humans are and these great things they’ve done, but you don’t really like people at all. You’re always trying to avoid them.”

“It’s not that I dislike people,” Jennifer explained, “it’s like Tangerines; I like them a lot, but too many at once will make me poop.” She began scrolling through her tablet, murmuring, “I’ll find something that’ll impress you.”

Tenley snatched the device, shutting down the hologram. “Stop stalling,” she warned. She pointed through the front window to the mansion they were parked outside - Dashwood. “We’ve been here half an hour. They’re going to start wondering what we’re up to.”

Dashwood was a retirement home. From the outside it seemed well kept even in the low light of early evening; nicely trimmed hedges, colorful flowerbeds, glistening pond. No doubt it all made a pretty photo from anyone looking for a place to spend their twilight years. Jennifer had never seen or been here before, having no immediate family members she was looking to decommission. She did have cousins most of whom had regular full-time jobs and families of their own, so when word came of a problem with her uncle they called on her - as she was surely only busy with little things like preventing the apocalypse - to pay him a visit. She’d made it to the gate before suddenly deciding on the history lesson.

Tenley chided, “if you didn’t want to come here you should have just said so when they called.”

Jennifer stammered, “I-I can’t do that. I mean it’s family.” She also just hadn’t much of an excuse since unfortunately no world ending crisis had come up.

“Well then you should have given the phone to me and I’d have told them to shove it up their butt holes. Honestly you are such a doormat.”

“I’m sure you would,” Jenn smiled. She didn’t know why she was stalling. This should have been very easy compared to, say, hacking a mycelial network, yet here she was drumming her fingers, having to gather herself before she could even walk up to the door. “I’m just not sure where we’re supposed to go.”

“Maybe to the door marked reception?” Tenley suggested.

“Right,” Jenn bit her lower lip. She must have looked pathetic, sitting on her finger procrastinating over something so simple. And she was supposed to be the adult. “Right! Let’s get this done,” she hopped up and out of the van, turning to Tenley as she followed, “I should warn you what Great Uncle Quinn is like.”

“What’s he like?”

“Oh; grumpy, misogynist, racist - like all seven dwarfs stood on each other’s shoulders and wearing the skin of an old man.”

“I should warn you,” Tenley stomped ahead of her, “I’m missing the new season of Big Dino Brawl for this. I’m not exactly cheery right now either.”

“You’ll catch it on streaming.”

Tenley harrumphed then led them into the reception. The young man behind the desk was sat with his back turned, listening to something through his headphones while also watching the news on a screen hung in front of him. The coverage was of evacuations and relocations from the Abomination Zones - places where the mutagen had fallen warping life in them into myriad new forms. Jennifer had seen to it that a vaccine was freely available to everyone, but couldn’t prevent corporations like Meridiem from capitalizing on the chaos to seize swathes of land for themselves. They were far from any affected areas now so all Jenn had to worry about was getting the receptionist’s attention. Just walk up to the desk and ring the bell. Easy. Nothing to it. Then she would have to explain who she was and why she was here, which should have also been easy; wasn’t like she was a criminal, she was asked to come here. Stop being distracted by the TV and ring the bell. But the man there didn’t look like he wanted to be disturbed, and wouldn’t it be rude to-

Tenley tilted her head, prompting, “well?”

“Um,” Jennifer made an undulating pyramid with her hands but a solution to her problem may have just presented itself. “Would you like to ring the bell?”

She was trying her best to sound like a grown up allowing a child to do some minor task so they felt they were helping. Tenley saw through it muttering, “unbelievable,” as she shook her head and stepped to the desk, agitatedly slamming her palm on the bell repeatedly.

Startled from his seat the man quickly covered the bell, groaning, “stop that! It’s not a toy.”

“Really?” Tenley blinked innocently, “I thought it was like one of those clicky games. Press it a thousand times you win a berry or something.”

“What do you want?” He sighed exasperatedly, “you’re a little young to be checking in.”

“Funny,” Tenley acknowledged, “we’re here to see Quinn Alto.”

“Who’s we?”

“My adult. She’s-“ Tenley turned to where Jennifer had been. It only took a second to find her again. “Well she’s hiding over there now. Pretending to be interested in that big potted plant.”

The receptionist peered between the pale blonde cowering in the corner and the tanned dark haired Tenley. “You don’t really look related,” he noted.

“Do I look interested in sharing my life story? Just tell us how to find the old man.”

“Well I need you both to sign in first. And I need to see some ID.”

“Or,” Tenley considered, “you could let us in, and I won’t shatter every bone in your body.” The man, not knowing what she was capable of, just looked bemused by the threat. And Tenley knew that Jennifer likely wouldn’t approve of unnecessary roughness so, “look,” she said, “I’m missing my Dinosaur show. The sooner you let us in the sooner I can be done and out of here, which is what we both really want, right?”

“Big Dino Brawl?”

Tenley brightened as if she had new found respect for him. “You know it?”

“Okay, fine. Just sign and get out of here.”

Having annoyed the receptionist into submission, Tenley was soon stood tapping her foot impatiently as beside her Jennifer tentatively knocked on a wooden door in one of the mansion’s halls. After a moment of no response Jenn suggested, “maybe he’s not here.”

“He’s in there,” Tenley assured her, “he’s just really slow.”

“How do you know?”

Tenley tilted her head back as the whites of her eyes were swallowed leaving behind shimmering onyx spheres. Jennifer bit her lip, feeling foolish for having to be reminded.

“I could smash it open,” Tenley suggested.

“No! N-no - no smashing,” Jenn sighed, “just be good and we’ll get some ice cream on the way home.”

Tenley’s eyes returned to normal. She tilted her head and narrowed them saying, “you’ll forget. But I’ll remind you.”

“Consider it an object lesson; never make promises you can’t keep.”

Finally the door clicked then creaked open. Of course what greeted them was an old man; fit for his age, but his back bent like a well used bow, thin wisps of white hair clinging to a liver spotted scalp, loose cheeks pulling his lips into a perpetual frown. Jennifer immediately snapped to attention, gasping, “Uncle Quinn!”

He snorted, “what the hell do you want?” He then swung about to slowly hobble back around his bed to the other side of the room.

“I came to check up on you.”

“What you mean,” he creaked and groaned as he lowered himself into an armchair, “is that none of your cousins could be bothered, and you’re too much of a doormat to tell them to get lost.”

“W-well,” Jennifer flushed beet red, Tenley offering no support; merely looking up and shrugging. Jenn tugged on her waistcoat, breathing deep. “They are worried about you. They just have jobs and their own families now. They’d be here if they could.”

“Bullshit,” Quinn told her, “you just skip on home and tell them I’m fine. I don’t need your charity.”

“Okay!” Tenley clapped her hands merrily. “You heard him. He’s fine. Let’s go. Ice cream! Remember?”

But Jennifer was less convinced. Hanging around the room were various mementos; tarnished medals, certificates, a yellowing employee of the month award, photos of her aunt, uncle, and cousins, Jennifer off to the side looking glum in a few of them.

Quinn had switched on the TV, although to Tenley’s chagrin he was just watching the boring news. More reports of people fleeing from and being evacuated from the zones, the military and several private mercenary groups - most of them under the umbrella of Meridiem - setting up cordons around the worst infected areas. “You know who’s behind all this don’t you?”

“Actually I was there, so yes,” Jennifer muttered. If her friend Kaya were here she would say maybe he just wanted to be listened to, so Jenn braced herself for whatever nonsense she was about to hear. “I suppose you’re going to tell us your theory anyway. I’m guessing it will be somehow the fault of people not straight, white, and capitalist.”

“Australians.”

“Okay, well, that I was not expecting,” Jenn sighed, “dare I ask how or why exactly?”

“Cui bono, girl. Think it’s a coincidence this disease or whatever it is hasn’t spread down under? And now there’s all these people fleeing there so their economy is booming like never before. Never trusted them. I mean, how could you? They’re all descended from crooks.”

Jenn sighed again, rolling her eyes, “There is so much wrong with everything you just said that I just don’t know where to begin correcting it.”

“Suppose you believe all that fake news blaming the corporations.”

“Well, by ‘fake news’ you mean news you don’t want to hear. You want every report to say ‘once again, Uncle Quinn was never wrong and society in the old days was perfect.’”

“Bah!” Quinn spat, rising slightly in his chair, “you Airharts always thought you were so damn clever. Where’d it get your parents, eh? Where are they?”

Low. Jennifer pursed her lips, looking away from him as if afraid she would do something very out of character if he remained in her sights. Tenley on the other hand fixed him firmly in hers. “You should be nicer to her,” she warned.

“Oh?” Quinn snorted as he bent forward like a grandpa telling a story. “Why?”

“Because no-one else will save you if you keep pissing me off.”

“Who is this brat?” He laughed to Jennifer. “Your guard dog? You taking in strays now?”

“Ten,” Jennifer placed a hand on her ward’s shoulder, gently turning her around, “it’s okay. I lived with this man for three years. I can put up with his nonsense.”

“You sure?” Tenley asked.

“Yeah. Go watch your show. I can handle things from here.”

“Okay, well - holler if you want someone to break his legs.”

Tenley left them. After a moment Quinn leaned back noting, “well she doesn’t take shit, does she?”

“No,” Jenn agreed.

“You know, I just don’t understand why a pretty blonde girl like you isn’t married already. Starting a real family. You one of them lesbians or something?”

“Something,” was all Jennifer was willing to divulge at this time. She just simply had no interest in those kind of relationships, but that was something most people struggled to accept. She would rather just get to point of why she was here. “Look - they say you’re refusing to take your medication.”

“I don’t need any more jabs or pills in me.”

“That’s not what the doctor thinks.”

“That vampire? You know they all just want to implant us with their microchips so they can spy on us.”

“Okay, well, if ‘they’ wanted to spy on you there are much more straightforward ways to go about it. You’re just not-“ Jenn froze. She started biting her lip, unsure she should carry on, but Quinn leaned forward bidding her until quietly she finished, “you’re not important.”

Quinn snorted. Leaned back. His old gray eyes scanned the walls around him. “See that? Lifetime Achievement Award. Outstanding contributions to customer service. They booked a ballroom, a band, they took my photo for a magazine shaking hands with the company president. But now all that’s forgotten. This is what we get for our service; swept away out of sight so we can’t keep being a reminder to you all that nothing ever lasts forever.”

“You know,” Jenn sighed, but this time it was accompanied by a soft smile, “I think that’s the first time I’ve understood anything you’ve said.”

He confessed, “I have missed the arguments.”

“Yeah,” Jenn graciously nodded, “I understand wanting to take back some control of your life, but you do still have to take your medicine.”

Quinn stretched, cracking his neck and loosening his shoulders, getting ready for another round.

[rzyraffek]

If slashers interact regulalary, like as if going about more or less like rgeular people(but still slahsers of course :P), I am curious. Jamie Llyod, how would slashers interact with there buddies niece?Suddenly finding herself with a bunch of honorary "uncles"

Specific curisiotes include, Brahms, Jason, Bubba, both Scream guys(Billy and Stu), Leslie Vernon, and anyone else you might wanna toss in there if your happy to answer :)

AWWWW (i had to google Jamie Llyod cuz i thought you meant a guy from lego ninjago cartoon series and i was a little confused) Request open!!

Voorhees Jason

HE WILL BE SO SCARED PLS HE, HE CANT, HE CANNOT COMPERHAND

Accually he seems to be great with kids, he is just overthinking. If they go to shop together he wont be able to resist buying her whatever snack she wants!

He would rather pick her up and carry her around than to hold her hand because he gets distracted easly and he would just loose her in middle of forest

Jason will melt if jamie will say something along the lines "you are the best unlce ever!!" he will litteraly pass out and die

Jason and Micheal are besties so i can see them just hanging around and Micheal just randomly bringing her with him. just to chill and vibe. It would be very quiet vibe due to them being mute but it doesnt stop them from hanging out!

Billy and Stu! (tw to yall homophobes, this biches gay)

"ew a child..." "sup uncle Billy and Stu" "uhh look you are here only because Micheal made us baby sit you" "lol okay"

"I hate childen so much Stu :( " "Cmon its not that bad! She painted my nails!" "of course she did" "Also she said Im way better baby sitter than you!" "I- aint no way you are better than me"

This evening just turned into Billy and Stu trying to beat each other in "who is better uncle" competition

"Hey Jamie wanna see a scary movie :]" "cmon shes like 4" "im almost sure shes like 7 dude"

"I'm hungry im calling Micheal" "NONONO I- i mean why- we ordered fastfood! right Stu?" "uhh yeaahh, wait i just need to go outside for a, eeehh for an *runs to nearest fastfood to buy sometihng to eat*

they forgor that children accualy have to eat

they are so chaotic, they will fall asleep together (all 3) while watching Sponge Bob (Stu and Billy are secretly boyfriends btw i do not care that it has nothing to do with this headcanons, i just wanna inform you all)

"I know you guys are gay" " :O WHAT! I mean- who told you that! pfff some prankster probably" "I saw you hold hands! and thats what people do when they love each other! :3"(top tier sin)

Billy and Stu live together probably and their house is such a mess! its probably huge too, because Stu perents kinda rich. So i can imagine them loosing Jamie in middle of hause and then looking for her (shes goofy ah she will pretend they are playing hide and seek jsut to scare the shit out of them)

Heelshire Brahms

HE he would be so akward!!! Like "ehhh uhh hello child why are you in my house child, uhhh bloody hell" (Quick reminder that hes British and i will make fun of him)

HE WOUDL PROBABLY CALL MICHEAL "Uhhh Mr Micheal ur eeh your niece is here uhh can you like pick her up-" Jamie just standing behind hir "AAH-You, you wanna play scrabbles?" "ew no, can we play hide and seek" "Oh.My.God nevermind you can stay"

Micheal just comes to pick her up or something and Brahms with Jamie are already besties and they prolly made frienship braslets (and shit talk some people too)

okay ladies im back and i will write some more soon! pls comment and dont remember to like and subscibe and hit that bell button

tbh i dint have a lot of ideas (thats why Bubba isnt included i just had no clue what to write) but its good ig, and if i will find any people bullying stu/billy for being homosex i will steal ur steam account B)

x reader tags are only for more people to reach this post nothing sus here

[spidernerdsblog]

Hi so I’ve had this idea for awhile. Could you do a Tom Holland x reader but the reader is American and Tom teases her for her American slang as they have totally different meanings in the UK

A/N : Ok I want to make it clear that I’m neither an American nor a Brit so this is completely based on what google offered me about the phrases Brits mostly use. Also I tweaked your request a little, here the reader is learning to adapt to Tom’s British english. Hope you like this.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings : suggestive themes

When Tom came up with the idea of quarantining together you were all too excited to live with the boys under one roof. But all the excitement faded when you had to practically force them to clean the house, throw out the trash and keep everything organized in the house. You were damn sure the boys have started despising you for bossing them around as you had caught them giving side eyes to Tom on multiple occasions but you did what you had to so that you can continue to live there peacefully.

 Added to that their British sarcasm was another end of the story half of the time you won’t get it and would be clueless. You watched them roll over laughing into fits while Tom explained to you the joke. It made you come to the realization that you need to have a grasp on your boyfriend’s dictionary so you started to observe and make a mental note of all their phrases you were not familiar with.

You, Harry and Harrison were in the kitchen bickering about the ingredients of the soup you were trying to prepare for lunch. 

“You sure this is how we need to prepare this soup? Maybe we should call Sam” you looked at Harry questioningly.

“How hard could it be? Just preheat the oven, pour the whole mixture in a pan then put it in the oven. Bob’s your uncle… your soup is ready” he states proudly

“That’s totally not how it’s done” Harrison disagrees with him.

“But who's Bob?” you ask out of sheer curiosity making both the boys smile at your lack of knowledge of their words.

“Oh it’s nothing just our way of saying voila” Harrison explains it to you.

“Oh I see” you nod in understanding.

“Don’t mind her, she is a few sandwiches short of a picnic” Tom snickers from the back.

“What? How dare you call me dumb Thomas?!” you turn to him visibly offended because in your free time you have been surfing the net and learning new British words and phrases and you know what he meant.

“Oh you know the meaning of that? I’m surprised” Tom raises his eyebrows amused.

“You see, when your boyfriend is a brit you have to start getting accustomed to their vocabulary. But how dare you call me dumb?!” you slap his arm frowning.

“Oww! I’m sorry- I’m sorry I was just taking the piss that’s all”

“Well then it wasn’t funny. I’m just trying to learn, ok?” you cross your arms annoyed.

“Ok darling I’m sorry I won’t make fun of you again, happy now?”

“Yeah kind of” you sized him up skeptically. But little did you know that he would make it a mission to teach you his diction as he started to converse with you in his pure British accent which you thought he had almost forgotten due to the roles he played.

You were in the living room checking your purse if you had taken your debit and credit cards or not while Tom was lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone.

“You are going to the supermarket today, innit?” he questions looking up his phone.

“Yeah why?”

“Don’t bring those ham and tuna sandwiches they’re minging” he scrunches his face in distaste.

“You were the one who wanted them in the first place” you snickered.

“Yeah but they’re really gross, it was a total waste of money” he says disappointed.

“You ready?” Harrison asks coming down the stairs as he was going to drive you to the store.

“Yeah”

“Grab a brolly, it looks like it’s gonna pour” Tom advises squinting his eyes gazing outside the lawn.  

“You can just say umbrella, you know?” you roll your eyes.

“But you only said that you want to learn our vocabulary,” he reasons.

“Yes I said and now I regret it. You yourself don’t say that by the way” you retort annoyed.

“Yes I do”

“No you don’t”

“Ok, ok can we have this discussion some other time? We need to leave now” Harrison interrupts.

“It was he who started in the first place. I didn’t say anything” you complained.

“Ok fine now let’s go” he takes out the car keys and heads to the garage when Tom calls you back. 

“Hey by the way I will be at mum’s place” he informs “when you get back tinkle me in the blower will ya?” your eyes went wide at what Tom just said to you. 

“What the fuck tom?!” you swat his arm with the back of your hand.

“Ow! What was that for?” he rubs his arm with a pained expression.

“You know it very well, why would you say that in front of Haz?” you grit under your teeth.

“What's wrong in asking you to give me a call on my phone after you come back home?” he says in a high pitched voice.

“What?” you gave him a confused look “so by tinkle in the blower you meant to give you a call?” you reassert.

“Yeah what else would I mean?” he scoffs.

“Oh I thought….” you trailed off. Tom actually used that phrase deliberately knowing very well what will come in your mind instantly as a knowing smirk was plastered on his face.

“Oh darling, you really need to take your head out of the gutter” he teased you.

“Shut up! I know you said that just to mess with me” you pestered.

“Well maybe but I love it when you get angry you look extra cute” he pulls your cheek playfully.

“Hmm cute innit?” you narrow your eyes mimicking his accent “how about I don’t tinkle your blower for a month? And by blower I didn’t mean your phone” you smiled and turned to leave.

“What? That’s not fair!” Tom exclaims.

[wordupcomics]

Ok I gotta know, is you’re future au is Tobeys accent fake or not? (is he really British? there’s a division on then in the fandom)

Okay this is gonna be more of an analysis essay as the answer to this is based on my own personal theory as to what the most likely canon answer is to this debate:

Let's get this out of the way: I think both of Tobey's accents are equally real.

And let's also get this out of the way: your accent can change. My extended family, for example, has mostly lived within the same state on the west coast of the US, but one of my aunts uncles and two of my cousins lived on the east coast of the US when we were all younger. When I was in second or third grade they moved over to the west coast to be with the rest of us. According to my aunt, my cousins for a while got poked fun of for their slightly different accents. This is no longer the case because they have lived here on the west coast for the better part of a decade and have (to my knowledge unconsciously, but people can do this consciously too) adopted our local accent.

Upon...admittedly minimal research, there is something called being "bi accented" meaning exactly what you'd think, having two accents that you naturally and unconsciously switch between.

Now when I hear this phrase I think people either switch between accents mid sentence, blend accents together or both. However when researching it seems most claims are that folks will unconsciously switch their accent depending on who they are talking to, which is exactly what Tobey does. I did find people in the comments section of a blog post saying they felt their accent was a blend of the two they grew up hearing, so perhaps my original idea still has some truth to it but there's little I could find on it. And having accents blend together is apparently called a hybrid accent.

What makes Tobey interesting/different from the research I've done, is Tobey is using the opposite accent that would be expected of them. Everything I found on being bi accented had people claiming they used the accent that matched the ones they were speaking to. So if Tobey was following this logic/psychology, then he should be talking to his British sounding mother in a British accent, and his American peers in his American accent...but it's actually reversed for Tobey.

Now for his American peers, I definitely think he's choosing to talk with the British accent over the American one. There's a variety of reasons Tobey would do this but they all root in Tobey being very conscious about how he appears to others. Some examples of reasons might be to sound smarter or superior, to differentiate himself from his classmates that he has trouble connecting with, or for his villain aesthetic, etc.

As for how he speaks to his mother, it's important to note that while he's usually speaking to her in his American accent from what we, as the audience, have seen, he has been shown to use the British accent in front of her. For example in the episode "Princess Triana and the Ogre of Castlebum" when Tobey excuses himself out of line, he tells his mother he needs to change into his "waiting in line pants" and is undoubtedly using his British accent. I have two theories as to why Tobey would usually use his American accent with his mother from what we've seen. First option is that the American accent is coming to him more naturally at this point since it's the one he'd be the most exposed to, but his British accent still shows up once in a while. The other option is perhaps Mrs. McCallister knows Tobey chooses to speak with his British accent to sound superior or for his villain appearance, and doesn't approve of it, so when he's in trouble, especially for villain actions, he chooses to use the American accent instead to stay on her good side. This would explain why we most commonly hear him use that accent with her, as we most commonly see him talk to her when he’s in trouble.

Either way, I definitely think Tobey has been exposed enough to both accents for him to be bi-accented. Claire is clearly British, unless she's faking too, which seems unlikely. Claire's accent would have been the one Tobey heard most when learning to talk so it makes total sense that he would adopt that accent, regardless of where they lived. On the flip side,  while we don't know how long Tobey and Claire have lived in America, it's clear it's been a while, I think the episode was "Robot Monkey Showdown" that had the flashback of toddler Tobey and Violet playing checkers. I would say he's had enough exposure to the American accent from a young enough age to adopt that accent as well.

To sum it up: I think his two accents are equally real, but I also still think he's often being very conscious about which accent he's using when. It's very hard to catch Tobey alone to see if there's one he's more likely to drift to, or if he uses a hybrid accent or something. Yes Tobey appears to talk to himself a lot (not judging, I do it too) but because of the show's fourth wall breaking and the narrator, a lot of those times he's talking to himself "alone" he's not really alone because of the narrator. We just don't see enough of Tobey outside of villainy to know how these two accents show up when he's not trying for one over the other. Or perhaps he's so used to using them the way he does now that these are naturally when his accent changes.

As for Word Up, naturally when I write characters who are not OCs and were in the show, I mentally hear their voices when they talk (Bob is the only exception here for obvious reasons) so when I write Tobey, I am imagining a British accent, because that's the accent we as the audience most commonly heard him using. However, now that he's giving up villainy, perhaps he would have less of a reason to consciously choose when to use each accent, and which accent comes out is more align with what happens to others with two accents. He would be more likely to use his American accent around Becky and the kids, and his friends, because American accents is what all of them use. Meanwhile he'd probably lean towards the British one when talking to his mother or British relatives for the same reason. I've also heard that accents tend to come out when people are mad and Tobey has some anger issues so he'd probably switch accents in those situations. And I also think there would still be times when he'd choose the British accent to sound smarter than others., like in an argument. Or he might use his British one to sound refined when trying to teach his children proper manners. Or he even might slip back into the British accent when trying to woo Becky.

I hoped this answered your question and provided a different perspective to this debate!

[ladyfl4me]

Hi please yell about boyd and stern in TCOS and TMWCIFTC :D!

Anon, THANK YOU for enabling me, you have my fucking life in your hands

I’ll preface all of this by saying that everything in this post is related to my long-form Amnesty works, The Moth who Came In from the Cold and The Children of Sylvain. If you haven’t read those, then you’ll be pretty damn confused, so I guess now is as good of a time to plug them - and the series - as any. A heads up: I started it back in 2018, and everything in TCOS is just… very VERY loosely associated with Amnesty canon at this point. Same root premise, same characters, but back in 2018 even I couldn’t predict where arcs 4 and 5 ended up going. TMWCIFTC was written as the logical progression, in my head, of an alternate arc 4, and everything that happened in TCOS is based off of that progression. It’s got almost no connection to the actual canon at this point. I’ll be recapping some of the more important plot points for context, though.

Here’s hoping the read-more works. This was 7 pages long in the google doc I prepared this in, so I apologize in advance to everyone on my dash if this got fucked up. Spoilers for TMWCIFTC ahead, as well as general vague spoilers for Amnesty.

So everything’s coming up roses. Fantastic. Let’s start with the biggest thing: how the characters of Agent Stern and Boyd Mosche have changed from canon to this AU.

Boyd’s Changes:

We’ll start with Boyd, because this motherfucker is UNRECOGNIZABLE from canon. On god, that is all Griffin’s fault. Pretty much all of Boyd’s character was concentrated in arc 4 of Amnesty, and honestly? He was a fantastic character there. Loved him as a counterpart to Ned. He gave off an air of “the ends justify the means” in almost everything he did - especially how he was willing to do anything, including blackmail Ned to hell and back, to get back to England - which I’ve grafted into my version of him. The angst-loving part of my brain seized on the tragic possibilities of his relationship with Ned and was bumping “No Children” by the Mountain Goats every time they interacted. Great stuff, interesting complexity, was genuinely surprised when he kicked it.

All that happened after I introduced him as a character in TMWCIFTC. My version of him retains the smooth-talking Britishness of him, with the aforementioned “ends justify the means” logic for everything; I’d probably sort him as a chaotic neutral, with basically all of his points in wisdom, charisma and strength with very few in intelligence. I tried to work with that for the start. We knew nothing about Boyd at the time I was writing TMWCIFTC, so my brain wanted to fill in that blank for jokes and giggles and haha funny’s and was like, “Yo what if Boyd was a Sylph this entire time? Wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious?” 

And that’s what I did. What happened to make this version of Boyd was a bit of a random “perfect storm” of influences and choices, which really only got sharpened because of my one-shot The Devil Went Down To Georgia. That one’s the main source of all Boyd lore, even though I barely reference it these days because he’s gone so far off the rails it’s a miracle I can keep him straight. 

I’ve talked about The Devil Went Down To Georgia a lot in relation to Boyd on here. TL;DR, I decided to make him two things: a violinist and a Sylph/cryptid, specifically the Jersey Devil. Yes, he is still British. I chalk it up lore-wise to a few things: the original Jersey Devil is more of a distant relative, Boyd crossed over from Sylvain and ended up in Britain sometime after that, and just willingly chose to keep up the British persona Bastard. I don’t think about it too much. He’s been a criminal from the very beginning; he’d been in prison on Sylvain, went through some shit there that made him steal a crystal and book it, and he continued to do crime on Earth to survive.

The violin thing is mostly me desperately wanting a character to have that background, because I played for seven goddamn years and want to put that knowledge and catharsis somewhere. Boyd probably either picked up a Sylvan instrument that was similar, or learned it in the early 20th century when he came to Earth, and just held onto it. He held onto the skills and got good - good enough that he could have gone professional, and tried in 2007, but that didn’t go super well, as anyone who’s read TMWCIFTC can attest. 

In terms of the type of cryptid he is, I’ve made the Jersey Devils a subspecies on Sylvain that takes cervids (deer, moose, etc.) or bovines (goats, antelopes, cows, etc.), as well as canines/felines of any shape and size, puts them into a gashapon machine with pterodactyl-style wings, awful teeth, and a snake’s tail, and calls it a day. You can get a tiny Jersey Devil that’s a combo of a tiny cat and a dik-dik; you can get a jacked nine-foot-tall terrifying amalgam of a lion and a moose, with a fucked-up mouth of multiple rows of teeth and huge claws.

That last one is Boyd. Don’t call me a monsterfucker for this, I have no defense.

So where does that leave him in relation to the Lodge? Back in 2018, before I started developing the lore that factors into TCOS about Sylph communities outside the Lodge (namely the Manhattan Sylphs that Leo worked with when he was a Chosen One), I figured that it’d be funny if every single cryptid kinda just… knew each other, or hung out near the Lodge. As you know if you’ve read TMWCIFTC, he got into some trouble in 1967, which Barclay, Indrid and Mama “bailed him out of.”

Once they found out he was a fellow Sylvan, though, it became less about “report this guy to the authorities” and more about “we have to make sure we keep an eye on this guy so he doesn’t get himself, or other Sylphs, in trouble” thing. He basically became Mama’s mostly-socialized half-feral cat, slinking through the halls of Amnesty Lodge, eating random food, falling asleep wherever, sitting in rooms where people are doing interesting things and just watching them. And everyone... kind of likes him. Sure, he doesn’t have a sleep schedule, and they have to get soundproof panels installed in his room at the Lodge because he’ll stress-practice violin at 3 in the morning, and he keeps shoplifting stuff from local stores to give to people like a cat bringing back dead mice. But he’s a good man. And he’s getting better every day.

Then he got got by the Ashminder in ‘98. He bolted, completely forgot everything about the Lodge but had the address of a former Lodge resident on his body after his memory was wiped, found a still-alive but memory-wiped fellow Lodge dweller, and fled to that address. Boyd lived there for years, trying to clean up his act and try to anchor himself a bit. Then in 2007, something on his path went wrong, and the stress break he went through after that made him run from that place. That’s when he met Ned, and they had a few years together before Boyd ended up in jail.

Then, once they killed the Ashminder and the memories it had eaten came back, Voidfish-style, Boyd remembered everything: the people who’d taken care of him, the friends he’d made, the love he’d found, the time and effort he’d put into getting better, the rewards he’d reaped because of it. He remembered fighting monsters and defending them. He got hit with it all at once, and missed them. His parole date was coming up; he could bide his time until he was released, and run down there.

But then, at the start of TCOS, Something Happens that makes all Sylvan disguises and spells shit the fucking bed; his disguise spell, which has been hiding a nine foot-tall jacked demon out of hell, flickers, and the invisibility spell that had been put on his disguise item to hide it failed. Boyd knew he was fucked if the jail folks found out he was a Sylph, so he decided to fucking Kool-aid Man out of there, becoming a wanted man in the entire state of West Virginia and getting a bit roughed up in the process.

But hey. Whatever it takes to get home, right? 

Stern’s Changes:

Stern’s changed too, though, and here’s how. It was relatively simple to tweak him, because so much of him was a blank slate to begin with. First: that name. Garfield Kent Stern is his full name: Garfield for the cat/Deals Warlock, Kent after Kent Mansley, the irritating dipshit FBI agent antagonist from the classic animated movie The Iron Giant. Poor bastard. He started as a walking meme who I was going to kill off; I came up with that name long before we got his real name in canon, and didn’t want to retcon it out. 

I’m a sucker for secret connections and familial ties, too, and back in 2018 the headcanon gashapon gave me “what if Stern was a cousin of Duck’s, but there was family drama that made their parts of the family split when they were kids, so now 30 years later they don’t remember each other?” 

And that’s exactly what I did. Gary is Duck’s first cousin on Duck’s mom’s side; their mothers are sisters. Gary’s uncle Arnie was a Secret Service agent who tangled with an Indrid trying to stop the Kennedy Assassination once, and he keeps telling that story at Christmas, much to everyone’s chagrin. Gary remembered those stories, and even received Indrid’s old disguise glasses - knocked off his face during his uncle Arnie’s chase - and carried them with him for a long time.

He didn’t start off as a baby cop, though; he was more interested in hitting the books, finding out the logic and doing the research to figure things out. I have him become a history major, getting a PhD with a few bits and bobs here and there that I haven’t worked out yet. Whatever the case, he spent a LONG time in academia, from undergrad starting in 1996 to graduation in about 2005. 

Things weren’t as peachy as he thought they’d be, though. Gary wrote and published his thesis, like a good little PhD candidate, but someone was watching him. In his thesis, he’d been trying to cobble together various cryptid-related legends across the word and making connections between them, among other things. He’d managed to link up and explain something that Unexplained Phenomena had been trying to figure out themselves. They immediately intercepted his thesis, kept it from being disseminated anywhere else, erased all copies of it after graduation, and reached out to Gary independently to bring him on.

Make no mistake: he went willingly. Despite the whole thesis coverup, Agent Gary Stern wasn’t coerced into being a government stooge, and he wasn’t blackmailed - he was given an offer to work with the cryptid cops, and he enthusiastically took it. Government benefits were decent, he’d heard; post-grad options were looking slim, especially going into the recession. In his mind, there was a bit of allure to it all, too. A secret government organization looking into suspicious and possibly supernatural things all over the nation? Fantastic. More opportunities to do research. He was in. Gary accepted their offer and started basic FBI training in 2007 - the same year Boyd had that mental break and went AWOL, returning to his life of crime and meeting Ned.

Biggest mistake he’d ever made. But then again, if he didn’t take them up on that, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

So he joins UP, goes up the ranks. They had him researching and charting the Bigfoot case for a while, and he was the only one who was willing to work on it at all because… well, Bigfoot sightings weren’t as sophisticated as some of the other projects that were out there for UP. (See: Area 51. We don’t talk about Area 51. Nobody talks about Area 51. Definitely nothing shady and unethical going on in there, no experiments on anyone or anything, no sir.) 

Gary’s diligent, though, and doesn’t like to back down from a challenge. That’s all hunting Bigfoot was: a challenge. No personal stake, no empathy. It was a job to get done, even though an entire person’s life was at stake.

And he got so caught up in this challenge that, when he went to Kepler, he EASILY got attacked by the Ashminder and destroyed within an inch of his life. He got the very memory of his job and intent in Kepler torn out of his head; once the Ashminder died, and those memories came back, they didn’t feel like his anymore, or like they’d been part of his life plan to begin with. Overcome with confusion and guilt, he decided to clean up his act and try to work against the FBI, with Mama’s blessing. 

His goal? Quit the FBI, get them off the Lodge’s back, and then see what happens next. Maybe he’d go back to academia, or teach, or something - just get as far away from the FBI as possible, as far away as he can be from hurting people. But he’s got to bide his time, because if he bolts now, they’re going to get suspicious and put the Lodge in even more danger. And that’s where he is now.

So why have they changed?

Simple answer? I don’t want to rewrite them to fit with canon. I just don’t. I don’t want to make Boyd human; I don’t want to change Gary’s name to Joseph and make him a Bigfoot groupie. I don’t want to rewrite hundreds of thousands of words of work to fit last-minute decisions made in the end times of Amnesty’s canon. My fic has diverged so much from canon that the canon versions of the characters don’t belong here anymore. Besides, Stern was such a background character in arcs 3 and 4 that he barely mattered, making his reappearance in arc 5 a bit of a clumsy follow-through, and Boyd was a one-act wonder. A little expansion couldn’t hurt. Making Gary something other than a direct antagonist made the narrative load a little easier, too, at least on my end. I hate giving a cop screen time, but it’s easier to justify his existence by rewriting his backstory and making him slog through the hell of a redemption arc. He’s had that coming. 

This leads us to TCOS, though, where the arcs of our player characters turn a bit more towards the plot, as opposed to the emotional fulfillment they got in TMWCIFTC. Characters like Gary, Mama, Boyd, and Alexandra take center stage for emotional and backstory development, while the original player characters take a temporary backseat. Alexandra’s a key linchpin of the story as a whole, both emotionally and narratively; Mama gets lore expansions and has personal things to settle; and Gary and Boyd are… here. So:

How do these two work with each other in TCOS?

It’s great. It’s fantastic. These two are my favorite to write in TCOS because their conflict is just so fucking FUN. On the one hand, you have an almost-ex-FBI agent who’s been taken in by the Lodge, is related to a Pine Guard member, is trying to keep his coworkers off the Lodge’s back as sneakily as possible without drawing suspicion, and is desperate not to screw up this second chance he doesn’t think he deserves. On the other hand, you have an ex-con who got a second chance from the Lodge, sees them as his last best option to be safe as long as nobody reports them, and wants to keep them safe out of a sense of familial obligation he’s reluctant to admit to, even to himself.

That’s two people with questionable morals, with a semi-familial attachment to a place that gave them second chances, each seeing the actions of the other as a threat to their - and everyone else’s - safety. Claws come out almost immediately.

At the start, Boyd and Gary go together like apple juice and toothpaste. Boyd sees a narc who’s threatening the one safe place he has left; Gary sees an impulsive, selfish threat, a domino that - if it falls - threatens, you guessed it, the one safe place he (and other people, sure) has left. Boyd breaking out of jail means the entire state of West Virginia, and probably the whole East Coast, is on high alert looking for him, and if that attention comes anywhere near the Lodge? They’re fucked.

Neither of them believe that the other is capable of change or anything but selfish, malicious harm. Boyd has more of an argument than Gary because Gary is still actively reporting things to the FBI, but in Gary’s defense, the moment that he stops reporting anything to them, they’re going to suspect things and might end up sending more people to the Lodge. The Pine Guard can’t afford that, so Gary has to play by the rules until he’s in a position where he can quit. I’ll pull a specific argument they have from TCOS that I feel really exemplifies this:

"I don't want you to get caught."

Boyd scoffed. "Something tells me you're not worried about me."

"I'm not."

"Well, thanks."

"I'm worried," Gary went on, "about someone seeing you, and connecting you to the Lodge. You just used the hot springs as your personal landing strip, in broad daylight. We're on the upper half of the mountain. And I don't know how big your Sylvan form is, but -"

Boyd grinned. It looked more like a snarl. "Oh, plenty big enough," he said.

Gary ignored that. "Big enough for someone to see you from down the mountain?" he challenged. Boyd's lip curled, and he looked away. "Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm just thinking ahead. What if someone came beating down our door looking for you? What if it was a cryptid hunter? What if it was the cops?”

"Yes, yes, fine, alright," Boyd snapped. He threw his hands up. His eyes were hard and cold. "It'd put us in danger. I get it. But you're still here. I think the damage is already done."

A knot of cold rage formed in Gary's stomach. "I'm trying to keep this place safe, Mr. Mosche," he spat. "I've got a responsibility to keep."

Boyd scoffed. "Oh, you have a responsibility? To Amnesty Lodge? That's fucking rich."

"You've got one, too! It’s about time you started keeping it!"

They’re both very, very set in their ways and their ideologies, and they take a long time to get to middle ground. 

One of my friends described it as middle child syndrome in overdrive. Gary thinks Boyd’s the Lodge golden child, come to replace him in the Lodge inner circle. Boyd thinks Gary’s the Lodge’s new redemption-arc fixer-upper, come to replace him. And both of them feel thrown off by that, because they both thought that the Lodge was accepting them completely into the inner circle. It’s unfamiliar, it’s confusing, and when the Lodge as a whole regards them both with suspicion/unease (Gary) and polite detachment due to the passage of time (Boyd), it makes them both feel on the outside.

And when you’re in the same shitty canoe, you’ve gotta row it or sink. So that’s exactly what they do. 

Ultimately, they get faced down with bigger and worse foes that snap them out of their spat, because their common interest is “keeping the Lodge safe” and uniting will help them get there. When they do start to have each other’s backs, though, that’s when they reluctantly start to get to know each other. Gary feels like something’s off about Boyd and eventually suspects - thanks to some comments from Haynes and some digging of his own - that Boyd had something to do with the fire that burned down Aubrey’s house, but it remains to be seen what he’ll do with that information. (The Gary of November 2018 would have turned Boyd in to the FBI. The Gary of almost six months later, though… a different story. It’ll be interesting.)

The kicker is, they’re both really similar, at the heart of it. Both of them were the Lodge’s fix-em-up pet projects, brought into the fold in an emergency and protected/cared for as long as they swore to clean up their act. They see each other and feel a bit out-of-place, though - something contributed to by the way the Lodge treats them.

Gary’s still held at a distance by many, despite being Duck’s cousin and a mostly-valuable member of the team, because the stench of the FBI is still on him - how he dresses, how he walks and talks, how he acts. And Boyd has just swanned back to the Lodge after 20 years gone, with all his memories of the Lodge from back in ‘98 driven back into his mind - and part of him is expecting the Lodge to be the exact same way it was when he left. But it’s not. You can’t go home again. The Lodge has moved on without him, which he never expected, and coming back to them is… awkward.

It’s simple. They don’t know what to do with a version of Boyd who’s missed the past 20 years of their lives; Boyd doesn’t know what to do with people who have changed from the folks he knew 20 years ago. He’s lost, floating, and alienated, like going to a high school reunion after not having spoken to a living soul since graduation. It sucks for him. And the only wholly unfamiliar face there, other than the main Pine Guard - who he’s mostly fine with, except for Ned - is Gary, and he can’t help but be irritated with him. That changes, though.

What I essentially want to do is set these versions of the characters up as foils. Similar characters, similar pasts, similar situations that got them to this point. All that’s different is how far in their respective arcs they are. So I’m going to have them be friends. Give each other a chance in the face of a bigger threat, open up a little more, have conversations, talk about things with each other because they’re the only ones around to listen. The Lodge gave them second chances when they needed them most. Maybe they can do that for each other.

This is also to say, I would be a massive fucking liar if I say I haven’t considered having that unfold into a rivals-to-lovers arc. Yeah, I said it. I’ve considered it, at length and in serious detail, since I started drafting the arcs for TCOS. In fact, that’s what I’m probably going to do. I’ve gotten too hooked by the possibility to give it up. I outlined hypothetical futures for the whole cast after the final battle in Sylvain and, given the things I want to happen in that battle and the messy post-war fallout, it makes sense that these two would gravitate towards each other.

It makes a lot more sense in context, believe me. They’ve got a long row to hoe before they trust each other enough to become friends, or even push the envelope towards a romantic relationship - they’d have months and even YEARS to wait to pull that off. Whatever I end up doing with them, they are easily my favorite part of TCOS to unravel, mostly because I  - and, honestly, everyone else - probably never saw it coming.

Thanks for the ask, anon. This made my week. So sorry for the long response, but I have so many thoughts on what I’m doing with these idiots, and putting them down on paper was really fun. Any other questions or comments about this? Fire away, I’d be more than willing to answer! 

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 2

Characters: Elaine, Arthur x Theo, Vincent

Pairing: Elaine x Isaac (eventually)

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @lady-moonbroch​

A/N: This chapter turned out nothing like the first draft XD Enjoy some Elaine spending time with her Uncle and she meets a boy!

Four days into her new job as Theo’s assistant, the mood in their home had drastically lifted. Elaine never complained and paid close attention to every task given to her, exceeding all expectations. She quoted things he’d said to her years ago and questioned smartly, craving the knowledge he had. Having her along had proved quite useful with prickly clients, smoothing over situations with a charming smile and sweet words, likely emulating Arthur. 

Theo enjoyed having time with her. In recent years, they’d grown strained. The teenager wanted more freedom and broke rules in place to protect her because she believed them unnecessary. Now, at nearly eighteen in only two days, she’d fought harder. Being able to keep an eye on her put the art dealer at little more at ease.

His daughter sat across from him, glancing at him out of the corner of her vision. Elaine hadn’t taken the news that she couldn’t accompany him today well. Instead of anger, she’d pouted silently all morning.

“I take it that you aren’t happy with today’s agenda,” Arthur piped up with an amused grin not quite hidden by his cup of steaming coffee. The previous night Theo had informed him of the impending unhappy teenager.

Elaine stuffed the fork full of pancakes into her mouth, enough to make her cheeks puff out to match her frown. She’d gotten up extra early and made pancakes and extra sweet coffee, but the answer remained unchanged. Now, she wanted to drown her sorrows in syrup and butter until she got sick.

“Vincent has asked for you to help him today while I’m gone.” Theo could easily see the motive behind his brother’s sudden request. He’d promised to make her do some work instead of spoiling her the entire day.

The teenager flinched at those words. She couldn’t very well turn down her uncle, as she adored him so much. Help isn’t the word she’d choose to describe what the day would entail. He’d likely ask her to do a small task or two, nothing that required much effort. “Fine. I guess I can do that.”

Working didn’t bother her. She assisted around the house with the chores without complaint. If Comte asked, she would readily agree. It irritated her that this client wouldn’t allow her entrance to his home, prompting this sour mood. No promises of being quiet or staying outside had swayed Theo. He couldn’t risk spooking the man.

“If you find yourself in need of something to do, I can have you proofread for me.” Her grimace only made the mystery writer chuckle again. Her disdain for that job well-known. Though she enjoyed his stories, playing editor didn’t appeal to her. A tedious thing.

Theo cracked a grin, rising from the table. “You better thank Vincent for saving you from that.” One check of his watch ended the conversation. He bid his family farewell before heading into town alone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to help your Papa with his work?” Arthur teased further. He had been a tad jealous that she eagerly wanted to assist Theo over the course of the week. Ah, but he was also grateful that the two were more understanding of each other.

Elaine stacked all the empty plates to carry them to the kitchen. “I love you but no.” Her curt reply still amusing. Setting the dishes in the sink, she licked the sticky syrup off her fingers.

“Off you go then. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

The young vampire didn’t need to be told twice. Housework didn’t appeal to her either. She did her part, pitching in when needed, but if told she didn’t have to do it... the teenager bailed as quickly as she could.

Inside the mansion, the hallways were quiet and empty.  At this hour, everyone should be awake, except for Leonardo perhaps. Rapping her fist against Vincent’s door, she cast confused glances down the hallway.

“Goede morgen, Elaine,” Vincent greeted with a bright smile. He laughed softly at her confusion. Since Arthur and Theo had moved out of the mansion with her when she was only 4 years old, daily happenings didn’t reach their house as quickly as it spread through the mansion. “We’re the only ones here today.”

“I’m okay with that.” She flashed a disheartened smile, unable to shake the dark cloud hanging over her. Her normally mischievous and lively attitude disappeared. The others might have tried to make her understand. She understood perfectly fine.

That didn’t make it less saddening.

“Come here.” He’d barely open his arms and invited his niece to find comfort with him when the teenager stepped forward and accepted the warm hug. Vincent stroked his fingers through her copper hair. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but she reminded him so much of Theo when he was a child. “You know, he couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful you were on the job.”

“Really?”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t said so to her. Theo would give praise often, especially when she came up with new ideas. Telling the others about it, that was rarer.

Vincent hummed in response, a gentle smile on his lips as she peeked up at him. “I’d say he was outright bragging. I’m not surprised. You’re his daughter after all.” Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he laughed softly at her uplifted mood.

Elaine lingered a little longer before releasing him, soaking up his sunshine-like warmth. “I guess I could stop pouting about it.” Relenting her sad feelings, she sighed softly before questioning. “So, what was it you wanted my help with?”

“I finished the final painting and I thought I’d ask for your expert advice on where to put it in the gallery space. That is, if you want to.” His request was well-received with a glowing smile from his niece. Theo had mentioned that he’d given her the sole responsibility of choosing how to use the space to best showcase the art. The uncle looked forward to seeing what she’d done.

***********

The paintings on the wall were shrouded in black cloth, to hide the precious items from view until the day of the showing. Only a select few knew what was beneath, ones trusted by Theo to make this a success. Elaine had been gifted one of the only keys to venue, a testament to her importance.

“I believe I’m looking forward to this event more than any other,” Vincent commented, allowing the staff to hang the framed piece in its designated spot.

The heat in her cheeks caused the teenager to turn her gaze anywhere else. “It’s not much different from how Vader does it. I’ve been to more of these than any other event in the city.” The location changed but ever since she learned to walk, she’d been toddling around, observing, and learning how it works. Before she’d even realized, she’d begun understanding color theory and composition.

“It wasn’t too long ago that you were only a few years old and correcting patrons on the medium or style of the art. You always had this incredibly serious expression, much like Theo.”

“That was so long ago! I’m almost eighteen!”

Vincent chuckled with a loving smile. “Yes, I guess that’s right.”

The chime of the door timed perfectly with one of the staff calling to speak with Vincent. Elaine stepped away to investigate the newcomer. Violet eyes narrowed at the sight of a boy, likely no older than herself, attempting to take a peek at the portrait veiled by the black cloth. “Excuse me, but you can’t be in here.” Her tone less than polite, Elaine thrust her palms against his chest to push him away from the art piece.

“Oh, my apologies. I’ve been most curious about why there are staff entering but it’s never been open for business.” His emerald eyes filled with hidden intent that didn’t quite match the half smirk on his lips. The boy never resisted her pushing him back to the door and onto the street. “A secretive operation, I presume, miss?”

“Elaine and we don’t open for another two days.”

Her biggest fear was that he was a spy for le academia and all of her father’s hard work would go to waste if they were discovered. He didn’t fit the typical appearance of a high bred family, usually scrawny and uptight, and he wasn’t either of those things.

“I’ll have to pop in when you are open. My name is Leon Autry.” He flashed another brilliantly smug smile and winked. “Might I inquire your surname, should I have any future questions?” The reason lost on the recipient. He’d yet to ask anything relevant to the gallery.

Elaine turned on her heel to return inside. “It’s Doyle.” Even though she didn’t quite like the boy, she couldn’t risk turning away a potential buyer. Her cheeks were warm, and it wasn’t clear if it was from embarrassment or anger. The young pureblood didn’t have many friends her age, and that led to a bit of awkwardness when around humans her age.

“Ah, like the writer.”

The girl stilled, hand hovering above the door handle. Perhaps she’d heard him incorrectly.

“You might not know of him. He’s a British writer, mystery, I think.”

Or perhaps not.

“I believe it’s Arthur Conan Doyle. Any relation?” Leon asked as if he already knew the answer, like playing a game of truth or dare in order reveal a secret for confirmation.

Elaine relaxed her shoulders. Although she could hardly admit that she was indeed was the daughter of that very Arthur, albeit the vampire one, she wouldn’t allow him to glean that precious information from her. “No, but you aren’t the first to ask. But wouldn’t that be grand? Imagine being related to someone as talented as that.” Her dreamy smile fowled his for a moment.

“Imagine.” The façade of his grin had ghosted away for a split second, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Elaine, are you ready to head back?” A third party interrupted, much welcomed by the girl. Vincent approached the two, protectively a half step in front of his niece. The tension between the two children enough to worry him.

Her head bobbed once in response. “Yes, let’s go home.” The way Leon’s eyes followed her unsettled the girl. Elaine settled back on the seat in the carriage, mulling over the strange interaction. Was it so unusual for someone to draw a connection between her name and the human Arthur from this era?

Whatever the case, she now had a proper mystery on her hands.

[crmsfanfiction]

Second Chances-Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Bright Days Ahead

Wiping furiously at the tears streaming down her face, Willa was so tired of crying. She knew it was part of the grieving process and it was a good thing to cry. It showed she still had the ability to feel something. Even if it was only pain at the moment. Standing up she headed for the bathroom to wash her face and try to fix her make-up to look a little less Courtney Love after an all night bender. Taking a long look in the mirror Willa swore she wouldn’t cry over either man again. She wasn’t about to get involved with Sebastian Stan again after the hell he put her through 10 years ago. She still had to deal with a cheating soon-to-be-ex fiance to break-up with officially and a house to sell. That was next on her mental to-do list.

Straightening her shoulders she left the trailer and headed towards Scarlett’s trailer. She needed some girl talk and baby girl cuddles. Knocking on Scarlett’s door Willa stepped back to wait for someone to answer. While she was waiting a beautiful blue Staffordshire bull terrier wandered over to her and sniffed her legs. Looking down Willa smiled and once the dog sat down Willa knelt next to her. “Oh look at you. What a pretty girl you are. Where’s your owner huh?” she said as she ran her hands over the dog’s head and back.

Willa looked around and noticed a young man walking quickly towards her holding a leash. “Oh my god. I am so sorry. Did she bother you?” He asked with a crisp British accent as he snapped the leash onto the dog’s collar. Willa stood up and smiled after giving the dog one last pat on the head. “Not at all. She was a perfect lady. Came up and sniffed my legs and then sat like a good girl. What’s her name? She is beautiful.”

“Tessa and thank you. She seems to like you. I’m Tom by the way. Tom Holland.” Tom said as he held out his hand. Willa shook it with a smile, “Willa. I’m Robert’s niece for all intents and purposes. It was nice to meet you Tom and you as well Tessa. Have a good day.” She said as Scarlett finally opened her trailer door and ushered Willa in with a smile and a hug.

“Hey girl. RDJ said you were in town. What’s going on? You look tired.” Scarlett stated as she handed off her little girl to Willa, who immediately cuddled her to her chest. “Hey there Buttercup.” Willa said as she softly kissed the baby fine hair on her head. “Tony cheated on me. I caught him. It’s over. I just have to tell him that.”

“I am so sorry. I know you loved him deeply.” Scar said as she took in her friends appearance. Dark circles under her eyes. Mascara smudged and faint tear tracks running down her face made Scar’s heart hurt for her friend. Honestly Scar never liked Willa’s former fiance. He had always seemed just a bit off. He put out a very off-putting vibe that made her skin crawl. She never could put her finger on why she felt that way. Now it made sense. He was a very good liar and manipulator. He had probably been cheating since the start of the relationship, but Willa was blind to anything, but his charm.

Everyone had said they were perfect for each other. Tony had acted like Willa hung the moon, but to Scarlett, whenever he’d smile at Willa when she wasn’t looking it seemed predatory or something. Scarlett had shared her feelings on Tony with Robert, but he said she was just imagining things. So Scarlett let it drop, but still didn’t like, nor trust the man. She hated to see her friend hurting, but was so glad Tony was going to be gone. Willa deserved better.

“I should get going. I wanna make some calls to my realtor to try and get the house listed again. Also need to start looking for a new place to live. We can catch up again soon.” Willa said as she handed off the sleeping baby to Scarlett’s nanny as Scarlett had to head to set to film. Scarlett helped Willa stand as they quickly left her trailer and started to walk back towards the set. Passing by Robert’s trailers, Willa veered off after hugging Scarlett and promising a girls night soon.

Going into a trailer Willa pulled out her phone and called her realtor to set up and appointment to see about selling the house and maybe finding a new place. She also called her best friend Becca to tell her everything.

“Hey Becca.”

“Hey. What is going on? Tony called her frantic last night saying he couldn’t get ahold of you.” Becca asked as soon as she heard Willa’s voice.

“I walked in on him fucking some blonde slut in our bed! To hell with him. I texted him this morning and told him I caught him and we needed to talk, but face to face. I refuse to stoop to the level of breaking up with him over text.” Willa said as her voice broke. Becca cursed a blue streak and broke it off with, “I’ll fucking rip his dick off and shove it up his ass.” Willa laughed at the last in spite of herself.

“Don’t do that. Then he would sue and then I’d have to get a hitman and it would be messy.”

“Fine I won’t rip his dick off, but David reserves the right to punch him when we go get your stuff IF he mouths off. You know David never did like him much.” Becca replied as she looked towards her husband, who nodded his head in agreement. Willa sighed knowing she’d not win this argument, so she didn’t even bother trying. They spoke for a few more minutes and Willa hung up after promising to be home in a couple days. She did have to go back to work in a few days anyway.

The rest of the day was spent on set watching everyone work, avoiding Sebastian as much as humanly possible and catching up with everyone. Those damned blue eyes of his were on her more than she wanted them to be. She could feel him staring whenever her back was turned or she wasn’t paying attention. Finally the day was over and Willa was headed back with Uncle Bob to the house. She was tired and she just wanted a long soak in the tub and to head for bed early. She had alot of things on her mind and just wanted to sort through them in peace.

“Feeling ok there Willabee?” asked Robert as he glanced over at her. He took in her far off expression.

“Yeah I am ok. Just got alot on my mind. Probably going to go to bed early.” Willa said. Robert nodded and the rest of the short drive was silent. Pulling up to the house Robert parked and turned off the car. Both got out and walked into house. Willa hugged Little Man and gave Princess kisses as she walked by and headed upstairs. She headed for her bathroom and turned on the taps for the tub. She headed back into her room and pulled off her clothes and grabbed a night gown. She headed back into the bathroom and turned off the taps. She threw her hair up in a messy bun and slipped into the water.

The water was the perfect temperature and it was helping to relax her from head to toe. Closing her eyes Willa’s thoughts turned from Tony to Sebastian. Back to the first day they’d met in 2005.

______________________________________________________________

September 2005

Willa walked onto set and sighed. She wasn’t exactly sure where she needed to go, but knew she needed to head towards the main set. Being a runner on a movie set wasn’t ideal, but she was interested in how sets worked and what went on behind the scenes. When she’d found a job as a runner on a movie set to film in Canada, she’d jumped at the chance and sent in her resume. It had been a very long two weeks waiting for a call back, but finally the call came and she’d nailed the interview. Now two months later she was actually on set.

Wandering around the set had Willa catching sight of a group of guys sitting around the craft area drinking coffee. Knowing she was a bit lost and needed to get to her boss so she could start work. Sighing and pushing back her social anxiety of having to talk to strangers Willa walked over to the group of guys. “Excuse me. I am so sorry to interrupt, but do any of you know where I can find Kathy Wilson? I am supposed to be meeting her in about 5 minutes and I am lost.”

“Yeah. I’ll walk you over to the main trailer area. She should be there somewhere.” a guy with steel blue eyes said as he stood up. Willa swallowed hard. His eyes were beautiful. He was good looking, in a boyish kinda way. He smiled this little half smile making Willa smile back as well. “Thanks.”

They took off walking and chatting about nothing really. Soon they reached the trailers and had to part ways. “Thank you again for your help.” Willa said as she looked up into those blue eyes.

“No problem. I never did your name.” he said. Willa laughed.

“Wilamina, but most people call me Willa. How about you? I didn’t get your name either.”

“Sebastian, but my friends call me Seb.”

“Well it was nice meeting you Sebastian. Thanks once again for walking me over here. I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Yeah definitely.” he said with a smile and wave as they went their separate ways.

______________________________________________________________

Willa jolted awake as her head slipped off the back of the tub. The water was freezing and she was shriveled up like a prune. Getting out of the tub she dried off and pulled on her nightgown. She brushed her hair and threw it back into a braid for the night. Crawling into bed, Willa sighed and snuggled down into the soft blankets. Her heart was still hurting, but she felt slightly better than before.

She hadn’t realized how much seeing Sebastian again would hurt. She’d thought she had gotten over him before she’d met Tony, but damn his voice and eyes took her right back to that girl, who was head over heels in love with him. She can still remember him stopping her as they wrapped filming for the day and offering to “buy” her a cup of coffee from craft services. She had accepted and they had ended up talking for hours about their likes, dislikes, hobbies, and families. She’d fallen hard for him. He had such a boyish charm to him. He was a little shy, but once he warmed up he was wickedly sarcastic and funny.

She’d been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. None of the guys she’d dated in high school could compare to him. He’d called her Mina on accident and when she hadn’t corrected him, he continued to call her that. It was his own private nickname for her. She’d never allowed anyone else to call her that. Tony tried once, but she’d shut that down hard. One of a few times she’d denied Tony what he wanted.

Falling asleep that night Willa thought maybe there were brighter days ahead. She just had to take it one day at a time.

______________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hello everyone. Just wanted to apologize for this chapter taking so long. It was difficult to write and it is a little shorter than I’d like, but next chapter will hopefully be better. Next chapter Willa goes home and confronts Tony. I can’t wait to write it.

Constructive criticism is encouraged. Feedback makes me happy. Flames will be used to keep plot bunnies warm this winter.  

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 9

Summary:   

Erik wants to learn all he can about the vibranium he found...

"Children of nature from another culture

Had to survive living in the light

Stolen from the center of the world

Untimely departure

Somehow survived living in the light…"

Caron Wheeler—"Livin' In The Light"

Erik held the flame from his lighter up to the smooth cool blue metal in his palm.

"You made it back!" Maria said.

Maria stood outside of his closed bedroom door.

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry, I'm going to head over to the spot for a chicken bowl."

"Nah, I'm good."

"Want me to bring you something back for later?"

"I'm good Maria."

He heard her milling around outside his door a little longer and then she left. He focused on the metal.

Vibranium.

The notes from his father's old journals could only convey the slightest bit of wonderment he imagined when he was younger. Vague memories of toying with his father's kimoyo beads and opening up a world of wonder when he activated it on his own. Slivers of images came back, images that revealed the use of vibranium in that futuristic world that his father came from. The world he was trying to get to himself.

In his hand, he held a component to deliver him justice.

The flame from the lighter didn't melt or activate anything from the metal. He could still feel the tickling irritation on his tattooed gums. The itchiness he could live with easily. Turning it over in his fingers Erik tried to figure out a way to get the vibranium into the Stark labs secretly so he could test its properties. His father's notes gave no clues as to what it could do. From what Erik could gather, it was a powerful energy source that had to be hidden. It was also an energy source that his Baba was going to use to help the diaspora and his mother.

Erik closed his eyes.

A man named Klaue betrayed his father for this metal. Ulysses Klaue.

Some of his father's notes were cryptic and also written in his own language. But there was one part of the three journals his father kept that his Uncle Bakari and grandfather had saved for him that Erik memorized by heart. Direct coordinates into Wakanda. Erik just had to find out how to use this metal to his advantage. It was the cause of his father's murder. But it would soon become the cause of Erik's rightful revenge. Against Wakanda. And Klaue.

He pocketed the metal in his pants and walked out of his room. Maria was gone and he had the apartment to himself. Making himself a pot of ramen in the kitchen, Erik thought about Stark. Was that man aware of vibranium? Tony went everywhere in the world, had access to arms dealers both legit, and Erik was pretty sure, illegitimate too. A man and his family didn't become billionaires without doing some dirt in the world. Billionaires were hoarders and they would know all the outlets to increase their selfish intake of resources. Most of their outlets were dirty. In Erik's eyes, Tony was a dirty mofo. No doubt about it. It wasn't a huge leap for Erik to assume that Tony knew who Klaue was. One thing Erik knew for sure, Klaue remained off the grid. Scant evidence existed that the man was still alive. Erik only knew that South Africa was that man's home base.

Erik went to get his laptop and sat in the living room slurping up noodles and looking up anything new he could find on vibranium. All he found were vague references to it being a rare if not fictional metal, probably a metal alloy mixture rumored to have mystical properties as a joke because of its natural glowing blue color. Small amounts were found in the arctic before World War 1 and its value was estimated to be astronomical if found in large amounts.

That explained a lot about why Wakanda looked the way it did from the glimpse he had as a child.

The fire alarm set off in the kitchen and Erik felt a strong hot vibratory shock inside of his pants pocket when he leaped up to turn off the pot of ramen he left on the stove that was now burning. He forgot to turn it off all the way. Erik shut down the alarm above the kitchen sink and when he reached inside of his pocket and pulled out the vibranium, it glowed brighter and he could feel the metal pulsing in his hand. Like a heartbeat.

Sound.

Erik turned the pot back on and let the rest of the ramen broth burn once more. The alarm gave another piercing shriek and Erik dropped the vibranium this time when the vibratory shock was too much for his fingers to handle.

He quickly moved the pot off the stove and shut down the alarm once more.

With great caution, he handled the metal again and could still feel the surge of power within it, along with the heat emanating from its brighter hue.

He smiled.

Who would've thought a burning pot of cheap noodles would help him learn an observational scientific fact?

Vibranium. The light of his father's world.

Now it was his light. And he would bring it to the Lost Tribe.

His tribe.

###

Erik worked diligently at the Stark computer lab.

He completed assigned tasks on time and kept to himself mostly. Tony had been traveling for a couple of weeks and there was a noticeable difference in how the office energy changed when he was gone. It was dull. Not quite listless, but when the head man was away, the mice didn't play, they just became…boring.

Standing at his comp screen, Erik strung lines of code together to input and received a vid screen message from Devika.

"Please come to Mr. Stark's office."

No reason was given. Erik knew he hadn't fucked up anything because Janine hadn't said anything to him directly. Shutting down his work station, Erik left the lab and headed to the bank of elevators whisking other employees around.

He saw Giselle inside the elevator he picked to take him up top. She held a fresh salad encased in a plastic container.

"Hey stranger," she said making room for him along with four other people.

"W'sup?"

"Where you headed?"

"Up top."

Erik could feel ears straining to eavesdrop as always whenever he was around.

"You have lunch yet?" Giselle asked.

He glanced at his watch. It was past one. He hadn't even thought of lunch. He'd been so busy coding and trying to get access to another lab that would permit him to test the vibranium in private. That wasn't working out too well.

"I'll eat later. Gotta see what they want first."

The elevator doors swished open and Giselle stepped out.

"See ya later!" she said.

Cheery. The day must've been going well for her.

Eventually, Erik was the only person on the elevator as he made the lone journey to the executive suites.

Devika handed him a donut the moment she saw him.

"I know you skipped lunch again," she said.

Erik ate the chocolate glazed treat to be polite. He used the hand sanitizer on her desk to clean his fingers.

"What's poppin'?" he said.

"Stark wants you to ride in the service car to pick him up."

"He's back?"

"Flight arrives in ninety minutes. You need to leave now. The car is out front waiting for you."

"Why does he want me to come there?"

Devika stared at him.

"He didn't mention any reason?" Erik asked.

Devika handed him another donut. A regular glazed one this time.

"Get going," she said gently pushing him toward the exit.

"You could've just told me on the phone or in a vid chat."

"But how would you get the donuts?" she said.

He grinned and left the office.

A sleek black S.U.V. awaited Erik in front of the office and he watched the crowded L.A. traffic as the car took him to L.A.X.

Tony Stark stood at the curb looking fashionable with his roller bag. Next to him was a statuesque Black woman with short curls and abundant curves filling out a white dress that made Erik's mouth get tight for a moment.

Erik hopped out of the front passenger seat and opened up the back passenger door for Tony and the woman as the driver grabbed their bags and placed them in the trunk.

"Stevens! Meet Athena Robinson. New addition. She'll be working in your department."

"Hi," Erik said and his voice came out with such a flat affect that Tony stared at him.

"What's wrong with your voice?" Tony asked.

"Nothing," Erik said, his voice still coming out strange.

Athena blessed him with a smile and held out her hand. Erik took it and the soft warmth made him feel giddy.

"Hi, Erik. Great to meet you," Athena said.

Erik stayed in the front as Athena and Tony sat in the back.

"Stevens, I want you to show Athena around, get her up to speed in your department. I also need you to prep for New York this weekend—" "Prep?"

"Yeah, you're coming with me to the Expo. Athena is too—"

"Janine wants me to finish—"

"Valentina will take over that project for you. Be packed and ready. Get a new suit too. We'll be meeting some new investors for the European offices and if all goes well, we'll be flying to Monaco in a few weeks."

Erik tried to process everything quickly.

He didn't want to leave the vibranium unattended in L.A., but he didn't want to take it with him to New York because metal detectors would give him away.

"Stevens?"

"Yeah?"

"Athena was asking you a question," Tony said.

Erik turned his head to look at her in the back.

"I just wondered where the best places were to eat. Mr. Stark said you were a foodie and would know," she said.

"I can hook you up. What do you like?"

"Everything," she said. Athena's eyes looked game for anything and Erik turned away quickly. She was as fine as frog hairs as his grandpop would say. He'd seen fine women all over L.A., but this one was a little different. He was digging the vibe she exuded.

"Hey this is the cut!" she exclaimed.

Erik realized he still had the radio on to the local R & B station. Return of the Mack blared from the speakers up front. Erik found his head bobbing along to it too, and when he glanced back to look at Athena, she was popping her fingers, not even caring that Tony was watching them both with amusement.

"Get into it Mr. Stark!" she said, nudging his arm.

"I'm not familiar with this song," he said.

"Old classic British soul," she said, "turn it up, Erik."

Erik did what she told him and the S.U.V. was rocking. He was really liking this woman already. She wasn't beholden with Tony at all. He was also really liking the idea that they would be in New York together.

Shit New York.

He might be able to see his Uncle and Aunt and a few homies from the DMV since he was so close.

The song ended and Erik turned off the R&B and switched to a classic rock station that he knew Tony loved. Steely Dan's "Peg" came on. Tony started rocking his shoulders.

"Wait. You two can't get into this?" Tony asked.

"It's hittin'," Erik said.

"Turn that up," Tony said.

Athena laughed at Tony as he made his hands wave in time to the beat.

"Haters," Tony said.

Erik laughed.

They arrived back at the Stark offices in good spirits.

"Show Athena around and then meet me in my suite around five?"

Erik nodded.

Stark had Athena's bags taken to the apartment she would stay in at Oakwood.

Athena followed Erik as he did the essential tour of the premises. She was impressed and asked plenty of questions. Especially about how being an intern there was fairing with him.

"Stark is an interesting dude. He can be a little out there, but you seem to have him figured out."

"That's only because he knows my father."

"Word?"

Athena's eyes lit up at his voice.

"My Dad works in the State Department. We've known Tony for a long time."

Erik kept that little tidbit in the back of his mind as he watched Athena take in the world of Stark Industries HQ.

"So, where do we work?" she asked.

Erik led her to another bank of elevators. When an express one opened, Erik rushed over to take it. Athena was on his heels. They stepped into the space and Giselle was there again. She smiled when she saw Erik again.

"Did you hear that we're going to New York?" Giselle said almost breathless.

Giselle's excited energy faded the moment she saw Athena.

"Athena," Giselle said.

"Giselle," Athena said.

No claws came out, but Erik could swear there were deep scratches somewhere from the sour tone that came from both of them.

"Athena is a new intern," Erik said.

The elevator doors closed and Erik stood between them both.

It was a good thing he did.

He knew for sure that if he weren't there, these two would probably be duking it out.

What the hell?

The tension was so thick on the ride up. He wasn't in the mood to make small talk to help ease the situation.

The doors opened and Erik was grateful to see Tony once more.

"Hey! How'd the tour go?"

Tony stepped onto the elevator and stood in front of Athena. Within seconds, Tony also caught the brittle vibe.

Erik gave Tony a look that was equal parts "Help" and "Wtf?"

"I have an idea, why don't we all go to dinner and talk about New York?" Tony said.

This was surely going to be the meal from hell.

Erik hung his head. Going to New York with two women that caught his eye along with his boss?

Trouble.

###

Tag List:

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@tyees @eye-raq

[supertodd5000]

Mono? Stereo? Both?

Admit it. You’re flummoxed, fried out and forlorn. And it’s not because your baby left you. No, it’s because you woke up one day and realized you’re a record collector. With a serious problem. And not just the physical kind. It’s true that record collectors suffer from a host of very real problems – lack of social graces from dealing with heavy-handed and judgmental record clerks, bad breath from breathing in mold spores wafting up from water damaged records, plumbers butt, and a scoliosis-like malady called “crate-diggers hump” (not as sexy as it sounds) acquired from years of slouching, sagging and stooping over anything and anyone just to fat-finger a copy of that one record that makes your heart flutter, your spleen ache and your bowels tremble.

No, your current dilemma is a horse of a different color. Which version of your favorite records sound best? The mono or stereo copy? Which one should you buy? Should you buy both? Neither? Your mind is melting. 

These days there’s something akin to “Mono Mania” going on in the world of record collecting. To many of us it’s quite welcome. Especially if we’re one of the poor bastards not old enough to have purchased The Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society in mono when it came out and we don’t have enough cold, hard cash to buy a minty fresh original flip-back gatefold copy for $425. To us, a sealed mono reissue is just what the doctor ordered.

To others, this mono vs. stereo issue is as baffling as watching your grandmother cut chewing gum out of her dog’s hair. What’s with all these monophonic reissues? To a cynic it seems like it’s the well-orchestrated and profitable reissue of every single recording ever made in a unique mono mix. You’ve seen them poking out of record bins everywhere. They’re typically pressed on 180g vinyl, tucked gently into nice inner sleeves hidden within tip-on covers and created lovingly and painstakingly (note: these are words that usually mean “expensive”) using “the original mono mixes.” But are they better? Sometimes. Sometimes not. Sometimes they’re just different.

This next bit of quasi-intellectual, ponderous gibberish is purely subjective. More so than everything up to this point in this pointless essay. Back in the mid-1960s there were primarily three reasons for buying a mono recording when a stereo recording was also available: you had a hi-fi system with only one speaker (more common that you think), you were deaf in one ear like Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys (look it up) or you were a cheapskate (mono records cost about $1 less per album). Sometimes you were all three. Sad.

Why jump back to the mid-60s? Because that’s a period of time when record buyers had a real choice to make. In most cases you could amble into any record store in the world and buy a great sounding, thick pressing of your favorite record in mono or stereo. Sometimes fake stereo. More on that later. Before the mid-60s, stereo records were a bit of a crap-shoot if you were into rock, blues or jazz. They might sound goofy. With instruments and vocals haphazardly panned left or right. It took a while for engineers to figure out how to make the most of stereo, and at the same time artists were figuring out how they wanted their music to sound.

Classical music is a bit of an exception to this. Conventional wisdom is that stereo recordings of classical music tend to sound better earlier on. And as far as jazz goes, producers and engineers like Rudy Van Gelder, Orrin Keepnews, Creed Taylor and Teo Macero were also a bit of an exception. They got into stereo early on and figured out how to make stereo sound cool with very few microphones. You can read on and on about this (and should) from many sources that are far more expert on this topic than your lazy, stoop-shouldered author. 

Speaking of jazz, the jazzbos tend believe that mono is best no matter what. Original 1950s and early 60s pressings of anything on Blue Note, Prestige, Riverside, Impulse and Columbia are more valuable. And it’s true that these mono records often do sound best. To my ears they can sound louder, with clearer sounding instrumentation and, in the very best cases, the sound can seem to pounce out of the speakers. But how much better are they? I used to avoid stereo pressings of jazz records from the mid-60s and earlier. I was under the impression they were “fake stereo” created in dimly lit back rooms in order to jump on the stereo bandwagon. Some are. Some aren’t.

Let’s push on.

Stereo vs. mono. Which is best? It depends on the recording, the vinyl pressing and your personal taste. Sure, there are albums that everyone says are amazing in mono – the pre-1967 records by The Beatles, The Kinks, The Rolling Stones, The Pretty Things, etc. The list goes on and on. But there are recordings that sound more eventful and interesting in stereo (Interstellar Overdrive by Pink Floyd comes to mind). Rock records released between 1967 and 1970 tend to be the ones that are far more subjective. And you’ll find plenty of beard-scratching know-it-alls with strident opinions who’ll tell you what to think. Some of these guys are right. But many of them also live in their divorced mom’s basement and only emerge from their listening lair to attend a record fair or to run out to buy mom a carton of Benson & Hedges cigarettes. Occasionally, they come upstairs to rub their mother’s bunions. 

People tend to crave the mono releases in part because they’re so rare. I know I’ve got my faves. I prefer the mono pressing of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles because (to me) it sounds more like a rock band and less like studio frippery. But the songs themselves are not that different. It’s not like hearing the record in mono for the first time could convince you that the stereo record you’ve been listening to your whole life sounds like a Jim Nabors Christmas album. Sometimes the performances are different or mixed peculiarly (the mono mixes of Don’t Pass Me By and Helter Skelter from the Beatles White Album come to mind).

For the purposes of this stupefyingly silly essay, I went back and did some side-by-side listening tests to confirm all my preconceived notions of what I like and don’t like in some hallmark recordings yanked from the overloaded racks in my fantastically disorganized music room. Stereo vs. mono. Which is it?

  The Who Sell Out (US mono reissue vs. Japanese stereo reissue):

From memory I thought I preferred the stereo pressing of this. Armenia City In The Sky is a fave of mine and I thought stereo was the only way to hear this tune. Wrong. Not by a crazy wide margin in my case but wrong still. The mono pressing sounded heavier and punchier yet still retained the fun frippery of the studio trickery baked into the tapes on this record. Mono wins. 

The Beatles “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” (Japanese stereo reissue vs. UK mono reissue):

I already tipped my hand on this one. As a kid I only heard the stereo copy. Loved it. No issues whatsoever. But, ever since hearing the mono copy of this record in college (several semesters ago) I became a monomaniac. Fact is, this might be the very first record where I became convinced of the majesty of mono. Mono wins.  

The Jimi Hendrix Experience “Are You Experienced” (Reissues of US stereo, US mono and British mono pressings):

Ok, read anything about this record and the experts will tell you the British mono pressing is the only one worthy of a spin on your turntable. I don’t own an original mono pressing. Who’s got that kind of dough or good fortune? I DO own a mono British reissue. A US mono reissue. A few stereo copies including a stereo reissue (the double LP Hendrix Family version) I used for this test for a couple reasons (it’s readily available at record stores and my copy was also readily available). To my ears the stereo copy is the clearest, coolest sounding and has effective panning and the sort of soundstage tomfoolery that makes stereo fun. To me it’s the best-est. Stereo wins.

Bob Dylan “Bringing It All Back Home” (US stereo original vs. US mono original):

Here’s another one that the professional listeners with hyper-tuned ears say should ONLY be heard in mono. I remembered liking the mono best years ago. Then I listened today. I compared a mono original to a stereo original. The mono copy was snagged by me only a couple years ago. It had been (mis)priced by someone at a national used bookstore chain. The price was too good to turn down and the record is so clean I sold my mono reissue. The stereo copy I got from my wife’s uncle who owned about 300 records. 290 of those were Irish music except for a few Greenwich Village favorites like Dylan, Baez, Seeger et.al. Despite being a well-loved copy with plenty of tiny hairline scratches and marks, I prefer the stereo copy. To my ears it’s the opposite of what I said about The Who Sell Out. In this case, I thought the stereo had more punch. Stereo wins.

Horace Silver “Blowin’ The Blues Away” (US mono original vs. US stereo reissue):

Ok, one of these is a pricey collectible and the other isn’t. Bet you can guess which is which. I fully expected the expensive mono original pressing to blow away the 70s “black b” pressing. And it is better. Louder. Hotter sounding instruments. In some cases Blue Mitchell’s trumpet is positively piercing. Right up into the red in the mix (God bless Rudy Van Gelder). Same way with Junior Cook’s sax. But, the stereo reissue from the 70s is not bad at all. Nice and punchy. It’s a real stereo recording too. Nothing fake about it. Rudy Van Gelder recorded this session in stereo and mono in 1959 and he’s one of the few cats who knew what he was doing in the late 50s. Make no mistake, the mono is better. But if I found these two records cozied up together in a bin at my local record shop and the mono OG was $150 and the stereo reissue was $10 I’d buy the stereo copy in a heartbeat and spend the rest of the money on elocution lessons so I could sound smarter. Mono wins.

Note: I’ve found that most of these “black b” Blue Notes sound pretty good. I also love corduroy and canned beer so take that with a grain of salt.

Bottom line? It turns out the ears are the best test. Do YOU like how the record sounds? That’s what matters most. I prefer some mono records and some stereo pressings. I’ve even dabbled in fake stereo from time to time. I happen to love some records that have been “electronically re-recorded to simulate stereo.” After all, in many ways, life is a simulation. I can’t say I love tons of fake stereo records but I do love a few. In fact there are a few country music titles that fall into this sadly maligned category that I hold dear to my heart.

Here’s the insidious thing. Record collectors often have mono and stereo copies of their favorites. Sometimes the really sick bastards have multiple copies of pressings from all over the world. These people should be celebrated or pilloried. I’m not sure which. Perhaps a little bit of both?

Records. In the end I feel like we’re living and breathing in the promises and perils of records at the same time. Plumbing the depths of the dollar bin and scaling the heights of a pricey wall of record store collectibles. Sometimes on one dirty, dimly lit Saturday afternoon. And I loathe hyperbole. Sort of. 

Mono. Stereo. Both. Indeed.

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

Christmas gift for

@freedom-barricades-bighero16

“I hate snow.”

 Momakase had spent much of her life in England, way before she turned into the most feared mercenary of San Fransokyo (though how much of that was what she really wanted she still wasn’t sure).

 So it came as a bit of a surprise to herself that the statement was actually uttered by the scarred man beside her, the glow from his face illuminating the sky almost as well as the street lamps.

 “You hate snow?”

 A knife suddenly cut down a branch, snapping it in half.

 No reason, really, it was just fun!

 Momakase turned to him with a face full of snark. “I would never have guessed.”

 Obake sneered. He had no time for such frivolities. In fact, he wasn’t sure why he had agreed to this walk.

 “Father, if you never stretch your muscles, you’ll never be able to properly lead your revolution! Also, I’d like some “me” time, and Uncle Globby rented “Cadet Kelly”, so…”

 Ah yes. Trina. Why had he built her again?

 For a moment, he cringed. That was dark. He knew why he built her. He truly wanted her.

 But…

 He sighed.

 The snow crunched under his boots and Momakase went eerily silent as Obake wondered what was wrong with him.

 For the last month and a half, he had been making leaps and stride with his plan: To destroy San Fransokyo and start again, creating a new society born from the ashes, fearless, bold, daring!

 An age of geniuses, it would be!

 One where the weak and cowardly would be gone, one where only those who dared to attempt would guide the people!

 And he would lead them all, a messiah, a savior…

 A teacher.

 Obake had been dreaming of this for decades, ever since the accident that had freed him.

 …Why was he beginning to feel doubts?

 “You’re awfully quiet, even for you.”

 Oh, yes. She was still here.

 Obake let out a breath that floated across the air as the ninja woman besides him smirked once more.

 Of the 3 minions he had hired, Momakase was the most competent and least annoying.

 Somehow, she still got on his nerves, though.

 Globby was infuriatingly friendly, but at least he listened to commands.

 Noodle Burger Boy had made the unfortunate assumption that he was Obake’s son, and Obake wasn’t sure how he was going to shut that down after the plan succeeded, but at least he too listened to orders.

 But Momakase was different; always arguing back, debating, offering counters to his plans and counter counters to his counters.

 For all his life, everyone Obake knew was a step behind him, even the very promising Hiro Hamada.

 But Momakase? She seemed to actually keep up.

 Obake didn’t know if he should be concerned about that.

 All he did know was that the park they had stopped at was way too cold for stopping at.

 Looking up, Obake could see that it was totally dark.

 No one was around at all, and if his watch wasn’t wrong (and it WASN’T), it was past midnight.

 Even saviors needed sleep. Until, of course, he invented a solution for that so he can never stop working.

 “I should probably head back.”, he commented, but Momakase was already sitting down.

 Turning around, she patted the seat with a cocky grin. “Oh, but I don’t want to miss this view!”

 Rolling his eyes, Obake pointed at his watch. “Believe it or not, I have very important things to do. They do not include sitting on a cold bench watching a natural occurrence occur, least of all with you.”

 He too attempted a cocky grin, but Momaskase was not giving in.

 Making a sort of pouty face, her British accent popping out a little, she retorted. “Oh, I’m sure you can spare us some time!

 Obake massaged his temples. Here she was again, ignoring a direct order. If he couldn’t get an underling to cooperate, how was he going to lead the new world order?

 “Well, that’s good. You shouldn’t do it…”, a voice whispered, but as Obake turned around, eyes darting for once in surprise and not in boredom, he was actually startled to find no one there.

 It couldn’t have been Momakase; who had said it?

 Meanwhile, she was still sitting there.

 Obake sighed; he didn’t have much of a choice, did he?

 “Fine.”, he muttered and he sat down, regretting immediately.

 Cold seats were no fun, no matter what your alignment was.

 As Obake shivered, Momakase suddenly began to talk in an odd tone.

 “You know, I’m not just hired muscle.”

 Obake turned to her, annoyed. “I know: that’s the problem. You refuse to listen.”

 “I mean…”, she cut him sharply, but thankfully no knives were involved.

 She continued. “I mean… You see me as just cattle to lead, like all the rest. But if you want a perfect society, you’re going to have to allow SOME freedom.”

 “Oh, this is rich.”, Obake commented, and Momakase raised an eyebrow.

 “How come?”, she asked, and he quickly shot back.

 “Well, let’s see: In order for me to amass total control of society so that I can guide it properly, I am supposed to allow them to make decisions?”

 He stood up, almost surveying his future territory. “Humanity is disappointing: Every time it gets an opportunity to move forwards it chooses to leap back and hide in the dark. Like a cold and wounded animal.”

 He almost wanted to retch, it was horrid!

 “They are sheep. They need a sheapard to lead them. Guide them.”

 He closed his eyes, thinking of the prodigy only he could turn great.

 “Mold them.”

 His speech finished, Obake sat down, but Momakase just kept on, as if his words meant nothing to her!

 “Well, yes and no.”

 Obake wanted to argue back, but it was easier to just listen and ignore, so that’s what he did.

 Momakase adopted an oddly sentimental face as she spoke, her tone not one Obake was used to from her.

 “Most people are trash… But some aren’t too bad. I understand your motivations, but I do think that if you truly want to create a great society, you need to be tough and firm… But also nurturing.”

 Obake let out a chuckle, shaking his head, despite a small voice still bugging him in his ear. “Really? You, the killer ninja, is lecturing me about nurture? About giving people a chance?”

 Obake had not expected this from Momakase, but it was actually the knife that surprised him most.

 “You don’t know anything about me. I’m not just a killer. I’m… I’m…”

 Her growl was slowly replaced with hesitation. With doubt.

 Layers she had hid for long were threatening to reveal themselves.

 Withdrawing the knife, she sat down again and sighed.

 “I am more than a killer. Besides…”

 She sighed, the cold very much bothering her now.

 “I only did it once. And I’ll never do it again.”

 It was almost like a child, her apology. One could not help but feel a tinge of sympathy, even Obake.

 Wait, that doesn’t make sense, he’s not supposed to, what’s going on?

 Whatever.

 It will all clear out soon.

 Must be the weather. Stupid snow.

 “I… I see.”

 Silence reigned as Obake wondered what had he gotten himself into and Momakase began to reminisce.

 “You know… It’s funny…”

 “What is?”

 Momakase felt the knife in her hand, but she was caressing it for once.

 “Christmas is always presented as such a joy… But I’ve only had one good one.”

 Obake didn’t like talking about Christmas, but not for some cliché villain reason: In fact, his only real memory of it was one he didn’t want to visit for very unexpected reasons.

 But Momakase wasn’t stopping.

 “Every Christmas, I go out and perform some kind of job… Every Christmas I ended up getting hurt in some way, be it a fight or…”

 She clutched herself. Whatever it was, it was something she wouldn’t lightly share.

 “But… One time… It ended nicely.”

 Obake didn’t want to ask, but he found his voice box emitting forighn sounds.

 “How so?”

 Momakase looked at the night sky, feeling almost safe.

 “I was sent to rob some florist by some mobster with a stick up his arse…”

 Momakase in the past leapt down silently and crept in to the store, ready to make with the stealing.

 “…I made a different choice…”

 The woman managing the store was not being handled in a way fitting a person.

 This of course, was what happened to her attackers.

 Picking her up, Momakase felt an odd surge. She had done something good.

 This would end up badly, she would have to keep her tracks low to avoid any attacks from her boss and…

 “Th…Thank you…”, the manager said, a weak smile as she looked up at her rescuer.

 Momakase couldn’t help but smile back. It was worth it.

 A few minutes later, finding herself under mistletoe, it became even more worth it…

 “…I never saw her again, she didn’t need to be burdened by me.”

 A longing sigh.

 “But… I can’t help but wonder what if…”

 Obake was surprised at the frankness of his worker.

 Why on earth had she opened herself up for?

 Even worse…

 Why was he about to do the same?

 “I…”

 No. Don’t do it.

 “I…”

 No! You are not her friend, not her confidante!

 “I…”

 NO! YOU ARE THE SAVIOR! YOU CAN’T CONFIDE! YOU CAN’T!

 But for once, a small voice that had been quiet for decades opened up.

 “I too… Had one good Christmas.”

 Momakase turned with a startle, and observed her boss with new eyes. “Obake, sharing something from himself?”

 She sat with her arms under her chin, now VERY interested.

 “DO share, love!”

 Obake wanted to hit himself for being so dumb, but it was too late…

 “It was before… Before I found my vo… Came up with my plan.”

 Obake didn’t say much… He would not reveal it all…

 But Momakase could fill in the blanks.

 “…Back when I was at SFIT, I much preferred staying in my dorms, especially in Christmas. I didn’t take the home for the holidays option… I found my lab much more warm anyway…”

 What was he doing?

 “And… One Christmas… Just a few months before…”

 He pointed at his glowing face.

 “…This… I found my privacy invaded.”

 He was doing something insane! He had to stop!

 But…

 Somehow…

 He also didn’t want to stop.

 “I had always known Professor Granville to be an astute mentor… At least, until she grew cold feet…”

 Why did that not feel as assured as ever?

 “But I must admit…”

 Bob Aken’s sunken eyes had never seen such a spread.

 Certainly not back home.

 Surely no one could calculate what was more enticing: The basted turkey or the frosted chocolate cake!

 But even a teenager like Bob couldn’t help but look at the present under the tree.

 …Had she done all this for him?

 The green and red lights flickered as he entered her lab, feeling oddly warm despite the storm outside.

 Standing with her hands clasped, Professor Grace Granville feigned surprise. “Well! It seems as if someone has mistaken my office for my house back in Shimammoto street!”

 A fake sigh, and she sat down. “Well, I can’t let all this go to waste!”

 A twinkle in her eyes. It haunted him.

 “Would you care to join me? I surely can’t finish all this by myself, Robert.”

 Bob stammered.

 Kindness had not yet been discovered by him.

 “Are… Are you sure?”

 An outstretched hand turned an hour later into a hug.

 “I would be honored…”

 “…”

 Obake stopped talking.

 He stood up.

 “I must go. I have a long day tomorrow.”

 Momakase too began to leave, but she smiled at him.

 “You know… Perhaps you really are the villain of this story…”

 She smiled as she leapt into the night and disappeared into the alleyways.

 Her words continued to echo as he walked down the street.

 “…But I feel like deep down, there’s a person behind the Obake…”

 Obake sighed, wondering what was wrong with him.

 He was the savior of his city, the one who would free it of it’s limitations, the one whose name would go down in history!

 But as he walked on the snow, Obake was feeling that someone who he thought was dead was coming back.

 And if Bob Aken was still alive…

 Then who was he?

[lovemesomesurveys]

England

Do you like to drink tea? Every now and then I’ll be in the mood for some. 

Do you like to put sugar in your tea? Yes.

Have you ever explored an ancient castle? Nope.

If you’re a Christian, are you Catholic or Protestant? Protestant.

Do you live in a big house? No. I live in a 2 bedroom duplex.

Are there a lot of seagulls where you live? Not in my city, but in the beachy cities nearby.

Do you have a garden? No.

Name something you own with the British flag on it. Nothing.

What’s your favorite part of London? I’ve never been, but I’d love to go.

If you’ve been to England, what was your favorite city you’ve visited? Never been to any, but there’s a few I’d love to visit. 

If applicable, what is/was your favorite store in London?

Have you ever been lost in London?

Would you say your personality is British? Do you think you’d fit in there? What is a British personality like?

Do you have English ancestors, or are you from England? No.

Ireland

What is one of your favorite celtic songs? I don’t listen to Celtic music.

Do you have red hair? No, I’m not a natural redhead. I do dye my hair red, though.

Are you Irish? I have some Irish. I’d really like to do one of those DNA kits and see exactly what I am.

Name 5 redheads that you know. Just one of my cousins.

Who in your family is/was a redhead? The cousin I just mentioned.

If you’ve been to Ireland, what was your favorite city you visited? Never been. 

Did you have any bad experiences in Ireland?

Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? All we do is have corned beef and cabbage for dinner. 

Do you like Irish food? I like potatoes? Sorry, I don’t know was “Irish food” is. <<< Same. I don’t know what else is considered Irish food. Oh wait, corned beef and cabbage as well. 

What’s one thing you like about ancient cathedrals? The stained glass.  <<< That, and the architecture is really beautiful. 

Do you like rolling hills of green? All that comes to mind is the Sound of Music, ha.

Do you like bagpipes? Not really.

If you’re Irish, what part of Ireland is your family from?

Do you like English accents or Irish accents better? English.

China

What is your Chinese zodiac sign? Do you like it? Do you feel it fits your personality? I don’t know.

Do you like your American zodiac sign or Chinese zodiac sign better? I don’t believe in that stuff, so I don’t care.

Do you like Chinese food? I like just a few things such as egg rolls, pot stickers, chow mien, crab rangoon. I used to love orange chicken and kung pao chicken, but I can’t eat spicy stuff anymore. :( I rarely eat Chinese food at all anymore

List three of your favorite Chinese foods. ^^^ Are you familiar with the topic of footbinding? Yes.

What are your favorite books about the Chinese? I don’t have one. Do you know anyone Chinese? Yes.

Who is your favorite Chinese youtuber? I don’t have one.

Have you ever cooked Chinese food at home? No.

Are you familiar with the Great Chinese Famine? I don’t think so.

Do you wish your school would teach you about other countries’ history? It did. 

Would you ever want to go to China? Maybe.

Do you have any Chinese in your family? No.

Japan

Do you like sushi? If so, what are your favorite kinds? No.

What is your favorite manga series? I don’t read manga.

Do you love Japanese street fashion? I’m not sure what that is.

What color hair would you have as an anime character? Red.

Are you aware of the struggles of Japanese Americans during World War 2? Yes.

What is your favorite Japanese name? I don’t have one.

Do you like bonsai trees? Sure.

What’s one thing you think Americans should adopt from the Japanese? I don’t know.

Have you ever listened to Jpop? No.

Do you like Hello Kitty? Sure. I had a big Hello Kitty phase as a kid.

What is something you want to know about the Japanese? I don’t know.

Do you know anyone who’s Japanese? Yes.

Would you ever want to go to Japan? Sure.

Australia

Do you have blonde hair? Nope.

Do you live near a beach? I do.

Do you surf? No.

Who is your favorite Australian youtuber? I don’t watch any Australian YouTubers. 

Do you watch The Norris Nuts? Nope, never even heard of it.

Who is your favorite Australian fictional character? I don’t have one. I don’t think I know of any. What is your favorite song by Hillsong? Not familiar with them.

Have you ever tried to surf? No.

Do you skateboard? No.

Have you ever been on an island? No.

Do you live on an island? No.

Do you like Australian accents or British accents better? British.

Have you ever heard the term, “Crikey, mate!” Yes.

Have you ever met anyone from Australia? No.

Africa

Do you know anyone from Africa? No.

Are you familiar with the War on Sudan? I am not.

Do you own an Invisible Children shirt? No, but I’m familiar with the organization.

Have you been to Africa? No. I don’t travel a lot if you haven’t caught on to that, yet. Especially not out of the country. 

What’s your favorite wild animal? Giraffes.

Do you prefer dancing or drumming? Bobbing slightly. <<< Haaa, same.

Do you have good rhythm? I think I can bob along to the beat pretty good, ha.

Would you ever want to go to Africa? I’d love to visit Giraffe Manor.

What is a great African song? I’m not familiar with any.

Have you ever tried African dancing? No.

Do you own any African jewelry? No.

Ever danced to “Waka Waka”? No, but I know the song.

What’s the furthest you’ve ever walked in one day? A friend and I went all over San Francisco.

Do you live in a mud hut? No.

Mexico

List 3 of your favorite Mexican foods. Burritos, tacos, and chorizo. 

List 3 Mexican names you like. Isabel, Rosa, and Luna. 

List 3 people you know who are Mexican. A lot of my family.

Have you ever been to Mexico? Yes. Hey, there’s somewhere I’ve actually been! lol.

Would you ever want to go to Mexico? I’d go back.

Do you think you could handle being around people all the time? Nope.

Do you like spicy food? I loved spicy food, but I can’t have it anymore. :(

How do you do with crowds? Not well. I get very anxious and overwhelmed. 

Is it hot where you live? Ugh yeah. California summers are long and awful.

Do you like bright colors? Yeah.

Can you speak Spanish? Very little. I’d like to start practicing again.

Have you ever been to a fiesta? Yeah.

Ever smacked a pinata? Yep.

What’s your favorite thing to order at Taco Bell? Taco Bell gets dragged for not being authentic Mexican food, but I still like it so whatever. Anyway, I get a bean burrito with no onions, extra sauce, and extra cheese with sour cream and guac on the side and perhaps a couple Doritos tacos.

The Middle East

Are you Muslim? No.

Do you know any Muslims? No.

Do you know anyone who wears hijab? No.

What are some of your favorite books about Muslims? I don’t have one.

Ever been to a desert? I’ve been to Arizona.

Would you want to ride a camel? No.

Did you watch the show Legends of the Hidden Temple? Yeah.

Korea

Have you read To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before? Have you seen the movie? Nope. The movie got a lot of hype, but eh.

Did you know that North Korea is closed? Yeah.

Would you ever want to visit South Korea? I don’t know.

Have you ever had Korean food? No.

South America

Have you read The Spirit of the Rainforest? No.

Name one fact you know about Venezuela. Ummm.

Do you know anyone who lives in Peru? Nope.

Have you ever tried Peruvian food or drink? No.

Have you ever been to South America? No.

Do you know anyone from Brazil? No.

Would you ever want to visit South America? Yeah.

Name someone you know who owns llamas. I don’t know anyone who owns llamas. 

Do you like llamas? Sure.

Have you ever sewn on a loom? No.

Do you own a skirt from Guetamala? No.

Do you ever wonder why we don’t hear much about South America? If you’re interested in hearing more you can easily look stuff up.

Thailand

Do you like elephants? Yes.

WOuld you ever be brave enough to try walking on stilts? I couldn’t.

Do you know about sex trafficking in Thailand? Yes. It happens in a lot of places. :(

Do you like Thai food? Never had it.

Do you know anyone who’s Thai? No.

United States

If you live in the US, which state do you live in? California.

Which states have you visited? Arizona, Idaho, and Georgia.

Which states have you lived in? Just California. 

Have you ever been to Washington D.C? No.

What is your favorite American food? Chicken tenders and fries.

Do you listen to popular music? Yeah.

Do you dream of having two kids and maybe a dog? Yes to the dog. I’ll always have a dog(s).

…and living in a two-story house with a white picket fence? I’d love a two story with a balcony.

…and having a good job and saving for retirement? That would be nice.

….where you can retire to Florida and live on the beach? Not Florida specifically, but yeah I’d love to own a beach home. 

Did you go to college? If so, what was your major? Yes, I majored in psych.

Were you abused by your parents? No. Why is this under the US category?

Do you know any nice people? Uh, yes. I know a lot of nice people.

How often do you bbq? My dad used to BBQ all the time during the summer, but that fizzled out over the years. We used to have a lot of family get togethers/BBQs when I was younger as well.

What’s your favorite ride at Cedar Point? Never been.

Other

What’s the best family vacation you’ve been on? Disneyland trips, beach trips, and the trip my mom and a few of my aunts, uncles, and cousins took to visit my grandpa in Idaho.

What countries have you visited? Just Mexico.

What countries do you want to visit? That’s a long list. 

Have you ever been to NYC? No, but I’d love to go.

Do you live in a big city, small town, or other? Big city.

Do you live in the city or country? City.

What is your favorite country besides your own? There’s several European countries I’d love to visit. 

What country do you live in? US.

What is your ancestry? I want to do one of those tests to find out exactly.

Are you happy with the American government? Let’s not get into politics.

What currency do you use? USD.

Do you think you have an accent? We all do apparently, but it’s weird to think of me, just a gal from California, having an accent. It’s not recognizable or distinct like others. No one would hear me talk and think, “She’s probably from California”, ya know?

Have you ever been told you have an accent? No.

[charlienick]

some stupid reddie radio show hc

• richie is like grimmy on bbc radio on the breakfast show and he's been there so long and is so well loved that the producers kinda just let him do whatever he wants within reason. he's very loudly and publically bisexual and flirts with Every Single Person they bring in. he hates being up at ass-o’clock in the morning every day but it’s a sweet gig and he’s well loved and he loves his crew so he’s fine

• there's this up and coming actor eddie kaspbrak on the scene that richie is scheduled to interview. he’s struggling to come up with questions for him because he hasn’t seen any of the shit he’s in and is usually too tired to watch films at night anymore (a horrible part of the job because richie loves movies)

• eddie’s out of the closet publically, which he chose to do since this is a movie about the aids crisis, but the topic of boyfriends is blacklisted, which richie is fine with. he’s not a gossip. at least, not on live air

• so eddie’s gonna be in a movie with a bunch of well known people and the interview with richie goes. fucking. HORRIBLY. 

• despite being his last guest of the day, it’s still 10:30 am because it’s, well, a breakfast show, and they’re both exhausted. eddie is incredibly obviously uncomfortable/nervous, which in turn is making richie uncomfortable/nervous. 

• and when both of these guys get nervous, they really get nervous, so richie is, like, visibly sweating, and they visually record all the interviews too so his camera man (stan) is like "FUCKING COOL IT MAN YOUR SWEAT IS MAKING THE LIGHTS SHINE ON YOUR OILY FACE SO BRIGHTLY WE HAD TO TURN OFF YOUR OVERHEAD LAMP" "oh ha ha ha ha is that what happened?"

• richie asks things like “is this your first radio interview?” (god what is this richie’s first rodeo? what a boring question) and “did you get along with your castmates?” and “does ryan gosling really put his money where his mouth is?” but when he gets to "so what was it like being in a movie with all these famous—" eddie cuts the fuck in. 

• beverly, eddie’s handler, giving him the singal to cut it the fuck out. don’t fly off the handle. please. eddie kaspbrak does not fly off the handle. he just. tells it like it is. and if that’s rude, well that’s the other person’s problem

• "okay i'm gonna stop you right there. if you're trying to insinuate that i'm not talented enough to carry this movie like all the other interviewers, i—" "no!” richie shouts, eyes widening and cheeks flaring. he glances around nervously and the crew is giving him looks like this is fucking tanking do something now. “that's not it. not at all. aw hell, alright, let's just—" and then richie RIPS UP HIS QUESTION SHEET like the dramatic motherfucker he is

• "uh. did you just rip up your questions?" eddie asks because this is not his first rodeo, actually, fuck you very much records tozier if that is your real name and he knows that no one can see despite the two cameras being pointed at them. the video feed isn’t live, just something to use for press later.

• "i did. screw those stupid questions i asked you. i’m gonna ask you the things i want to know. what makes you excited about this project? what was your method of getting into character considering how intense the story was?" richie asks, propping his elbow up on the desk and cupping his chin in his hand. 

• "oh.” eddie blinks in shock, like, oh this guy does have a soul? and he’s actually interested and isn’t just a weird, awkard guy? whoops. okay. eddie can admit when he’s wrong, at least to himself, so he changes gears. “well my uncle who i was close to as a kid was a victim of aids, and so the opportunity to play a character so similar to his story was a privilege as much as it was cathartic..." 

• and then it kind of goes off without a hitch from there. they’re really flowing and eddie is getting asked genuinely interesting questions by richie now, things no other interviewer has asked. he’s totally respectful of the topic while still being his dumb, flirtatious self. eddie is charmed. smitten, really. it’s really obnoxious. 

• by the end they're both giggling sweetly and richie is doing some light flirting, not the intensely over the top kind he's been known to with his guests.

• towards the end richie goes "well that was our guest, the delicious, delectable eddie kaspbrak. make sure you go see his movie ‘collison’ in theatres this friday, because i promise you're gonna want this pretty face to bring you to tears on the big screen instead of just hear him do it on radio."

• eddie is blushing like mad and leans into the mic and meekly goes "and because i'm talented." "oh of course. AND because he's talented. what song would you like to play us out with, eds?" "what? my name is eddie. did you forget already? not very professional of you.” zoom in on richie’s grin. “i didn’t forget.” “jesus. can i pick anything?" "within reason, you minx! this IS a top 40 station after all." "well it WAS top 40," eddie giggles. he calls over bill who controls the switchboard and whispers something to him and bill chuckles and nods.

• "what are you two up t—" "well folks, that's our show!" eddie announces brightly. richie scoffs, scandalized, but eddie continues. "i hope you enjoy the dulcet sounds of ‘rocks off’ by the rolling stones." "ohhhh you absolute—" "annnnnd we're clear," bill says from across the room, cutting the mics.

• eddie is a stones guy. fuck, richie seriously hit the jackpot here.

• richie takes off his headphones but eddie doesn't, still dancing to the song coming through. richie smiles over at him and waves mike (the lighting guy) over and asks him to have bill put the music through the overhead speakers. bill does and richie comes up beside eddie, bowing dramatically with his hand out. "may i have this dance?" he asks in some ridiculous british accent, and eddie giggles, rolling his eyes and shrugging. "why not?"

• richie spins him around the room, a bit more practiced than eddie would've assumed with a man who has the gangly limbs of a newborn deer. he calls out to bill to play through his emergency playlist and bill shakes his head with a fond smile and gives him a thumbs up.

• "hey..." richie starts nervously, fiddling with the hem of eddie’s shirt, and, like when was the last time he was this nervous? jesus this kid has gotten under his skin, which is exactly why he says, "whaddya say i take you out to dinner?"

• "are you... are you even allowed to court your guests?" "court?” richie grins with an incredulous raise of his eyebrows. “i like that word. well i'm allowed to court whoever i damn well please. it's a free country," richie shoots back with a sassy cock to his hips and a huge grin.

• "i'm... i'm gonna be really busy with press in the next few weeks," eddie responds breathlessly. "oh. sure. no problem," richie bobs his head very dramatically and for an unnecessarily long time, untangling their limbs. "but!" eddie says, reaching for him again. richie lets himself be tugged into eddie’s space easily. "i'll gladly take you out when the junket is over." "you take me out? i thought i was the one who asked you!" "i thought it was a free country," eddie grins. richie sighs softly, pretending to sound put-out but he can't even manage it with the force of his smile. "alright, mr. kaspbrak." 

• "you live in la, right?" eddie asks. "i live wherever you want me to," richie says, trying to pull some sort of seductive Voice, eyebrows jumping. eddie gives him a funny look. "uh. yeah, i do. sorry, i just—you make me a little nervous." "wow. the famous records tozier all tongue tied just from a lowly up-and-comer. why would your viewers think?" eddie asks softly, smiling up at him. "i think they're probably jealous they don't get to court you." "i regret using that word," eddie groans. richie laughs, "you should. it's my new favorite."

• "eddie," bev cuts in quietly with a grin, "you've got another interview at—" "shit!" eddie immediately detaches himself from richie, picking up his things, and richie feels like he just got dunked into cold water. "i'll call you!" eddie yells out to richie before pushing his way through the cameras and lights with bev in tow. she grins and wiggles her fingers at richie. "oh shit," richie sighs, smiling dreamily.

• "oh shit is right," stan says from behind the camera, which still has the green light on, the bastard, "you didn't ever give him your number in the first place." "motherfucker!" "and i caught all of that on camera," stan smirks. "oh i WILL kill you," richie says, turning to the camera and futzing with it. "gimmie that tape!" "nah, you've gotten enough spank bank material for the day," stan says, flipping off the camera. "plus, ben got a whole host of good shit on camera two."

• richie gasps. "BEN-YA-MEEN, YOU WOULDNT" ben just shrugs, flipping his camera off too. "i work for no man, only the love that drives us." "fuck off."

• it’s a week later, the movie has premiered and eddie is the talk of the town. the second the video of the already-infamous interview goes live on twitter (cut with generous amounts of flirting thanks to mike, the absolute ASSHOLE), both their mentions blow the fuck up.

• eddie’s twitter is LITERALLY STILL PRIVATE despite the fact that bev keeps insisting he undo because he can’t get verified that way. eddie could care less about being verified; he just wants his privacy. he thought being private would make it so that no one could @ reply him but he soon finds out that he was very, very wrong when a bunch of ppl on twitter start asking him how his date with richie went. he turns off his notifications after this shit storm

• eddie had followed richie back the day of the interview, and he didn’t know the option to keep replies from ppl you follow had stayed on, so he gets a notif right before one of his last interviews on the junket

• @richierecords: @eddie_kaspbrak you in town? i know a great sushi place

• eddie grins, trying to futz with his phone and figure out how to reply

• @eddie_kaspbrak: @richierecords I’m around, but I thought I was taking YOU out to eat? and how do you know I even like sushi?

• he’s deeply glad he’s private so no one but his friends can see this response because when richie sends back “@richierecords: @eddie_kaspbrak everyone with taste likes sushi, and that gucci suit at the premiere showcased yours very nicely. and i think i’m gonna be the one doing the eating out if all goes according to plan 🍑👅💦” while eddie’s in his last interview. there are like 7,000 likes by the time he checks it

• his eyes widen and his cheeks flush and he immediately presses his phone into his chest so bev who’s beside him in the limo going back to the hotel doesn’t see. he may not understand what the peach emoji was for, but the tongue and the spit was certainly image enough

• bev snorts as she types out a text. “no need to be shy, kaspbrak. your suitor certainly isn’t.” eddie sputters indignantly but bev just laughs without looking up from her phone, “i already contacted his manager. luang’s on center street at 8 pm. it’s like a half-price place and the paps are told to stay the fuck away or they’re getting sued, but seriously? half price? that’s tactless. your boy has no manners. i’m not dealing with you getting food poisoning so be fucking careful.”

• “he’s not my boy! he’s not my anything!” eddie shrieks. bev winces, “stop being shrill at me, i did not do this. you and your libido did.” “i’m barely even attracted to him,” eddie huffs, tapping out a reply to richie of “You stupid motherfucker.”

• “oh, sure, alright,” bev snorts. “we do share a wall in these hotels you know, and they’re unfortunately not very thick. i’m sure it’s very lonely out there for your right hand and your imagination.” “i will fuck you up, marsh, don’t test me,” but then he grins slyly. “and i need both hands for what i get up to, actually.” “oh!” beverly laughs, delighted, finally putting her phone down. “i’d give you a high five, but i don’t need your cum on me. that ain’t in my job description, puddin’.” “FUCK OFF I HAVEN’T MASTURBATED SINCE LAST NIGHT AND I HAVE WASHED MY HANDS SIX TIMES SINCE THEN.”

• their driver chokes on his spit from the front seat and eddie groans into his hands as beverly puts the divider up and laughs

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I know it's a lot! But all of the 65 questions you aren't used to!! I love getting to know the blogs I follow!

Okay love! The last one was a freebie so I guess I’ll just leave that one out haha.

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Na, usually it’s the opposite for me. I don’t feel important enough to be real.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

Maybe a 3? I don’t mind the dark as long as my imagination isn’t getting the best of me, which it usually is. I always have my little touch-activated lamp in my room left on at the dimmest setting at night.

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Donald Trump.

4. What is your favorite word?

Drumonios. It’s an Ancient Greek epithet of Artemis, and it means “haunting the woods.” (hey, no one said English word)

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

*in Monty Python voice* THE LARCH

No, but in all seriousness, I’d be a willow. So gentle and comforting, like the tree leaning over to hug you and give you shade.

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

Yikes.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

A black shirt with images of moon phases that says “to the moon and back”

8. What do you label yourself as?

Is this a gender/sexual identity question??? Cuz if not I could label myself as anything. But genderwise I’m a cis female and orientation-wise I’m lesbian, biromantic, possibly somewhere on the ace spectrum?

9. Bright room or dark room?

Dark room. Or mostly dark. Dim with a yellowish lamp because I hate white lights.

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Talking to my gf on the phone.

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

tbh this year, 19. My anxiety’s been better than it ever was. I haven’t been actively suicidal at all this year. I’m just in a better place all around.

12. Who told you they loved you last?

Probably my mom?

13. Your worst enemy?

Myself

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

Romantically? My girlfriend. In general? Everyone who hasn’t crossed me.

16. The last song you listened to?

Right now I’m listening to LA Devotee by Panic! At The Disco :)

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Donald Trump, while he’s in a cabinet meeting so it blows up everyone else there too

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Donald Trump or my ex

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

I don’t really want a slave? Kinda against the whole idea? But ig Thomas Jefferson bc he needs to know what it feels like (Hamilton pettiness coming out oops)

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My eyes! Idk if I have a picture that shows them really well? But you can check my selfies tag. They’re deep hazel green with gold flecks.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I would look like historical Alexander Hamilton and I would hang out in history museums freaking people out.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

Wouldn’t be a secret if I told you. ;) But seriously, I’m not very private about my talents because I’m proud of them. I write, read, make up codes, solve puzzles, sing, do calligraphy. Sometimes my eyeshadow looks decent.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

Most of the unique things are PTSD triggers. The rest of my fears are just normal.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Grilled mac and cheese sandwich.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Put it towards saving up for a Switch so I can get the new Pokemon game when it comes out this fall.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

The British Isles, where I will do historical tours and live in the Highlands for a year.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

I don’t drink, I’m pretty against it in part because my uncle’s a recovering alcoholic, but I’d say strawberry daquiris? Idk brands, man.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Socialism and if you’re gonna mess up the process and turn it into communism then you’re off the island.

29. What is your favorite expletive?

Fuckweasel. Thanks, Raven Cycle.

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My phone I guess?

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Nothing. As much as I hate what I’ve been through (assault by my ex, manipulation by my dad) it’s taught me so much strength and made me who I am. I know red flags. I came out of my shell. I know how to say no, how to cut out toxic family.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

Scotland.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

FDR. We have a polio vaccine and he was my favorite president.

34. What was your last dream about?

I was doing a crossword puzzle but, like, it never ended. And the clues kept changing every time I started to write the answer. It sucked.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

Nothing was inserted haha so yes. I am a good.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

Twice. Once as a baby for my open heart surgery, and once when I was 4 for severe dehydration from the flu.

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Yes but it’s been like 13 years.

38. What is the color of your socks?

Light blue and white stripes.

39. What type of music do you like?

Pop, rock, folk, Celtic, classical, old country, like, Woodie Guthrie, and some new country like Kelsea Ballerini.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

SUNSETS

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

Cherry!

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

Um, I guess the OSU Buckeyes cuz that’s where I live and I hate pro football.

43. Do you have any scars?

I have a huge scar down my chest from my heart surgery, a few self harm scars left, and quite a few from old cat scratches. Also my left knee is covered with scars from being a clumsy child. And I have small birthmarks which correlate to past life injuries which is fun

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

A librarian/history or English teacher

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

My weight.

46. Are you reliable?

Sometimes I flake on plans bc of mental illness, but yes. I am a strong shoulder to lean on, and I will always be there for you.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Am I trying for the right things?

48. Do you hold grudges?

Not consciously. But there are certain things I haven’t been able to forgive just yet.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

Sloth dragon. Sloth with little back scales and wings who flies very slowly and breathes fire when threatened.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

My mom and I have the funniest conversations. I couldn’t pick one. Every day between us is just hysterical.

51. Are you a good liar?

Yes. But I don’t lie anymore except when I have to.

52. How long could you go without talking?

Probably forever as long as I could write or text.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

When I was 9 I decided to get a shoulder length bob. My hair did not approve. Constant white-fro. I don’t have a picture of it full glory, but this is after having it styled, at age 11, as flat as it would go.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

Noooo I suck at baking. I’ve made cookies though.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

British, I guess? I do a good Hermione.

56. What do you like on your toast?

Butter lmao I’m classic

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Uhhh I sketched a flower on my church bulletin last week? Nothing fancy. I don’t draw.

58. What would be you dream car?

‘67 Impala baby.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I, uh give political speeches to the showerhead? It’s the Hamilton mood.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

I definitely believe we can’t live in a universe infinitely big all by ourselves.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

I don’t read my actual horoscope, but I look at those zodiac posts a lot, and I know my full birth chart.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

A and S.

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Both. Dinsoaurs could have been dragons, we don’t know.

64. What do you think about babies?

They’re okay til they cry or poop or throw up lmao.

Thanks bb!