#i got an electric toothbrush and the reminders help me a lot!

[theberetdog]

i just want to announce to everyone that i’m uping my hygiene game after battling lots of depression since i was like age 7/8 or so & my phone reminders help immensely 🥰 taking it one step at a time baybeee

[kinglazrus]

Not Your Danny – Ch 2. Small Signs

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Word count: 3514

Awareness returns to Dani the same way it always does: instantly and with a deep, rattling breath. It echoes the dry rasp of her very first. Even after all this time, she still remembers what it was like to wake up in that vat. The thick ectoplasm that flooded her nose and mouth when she tried to breathe. The panic and confusion as her mind scrambled to understand what was happening. The overwhelming weight of knowledge that wasn't hers, that she didn't remember learning. Even thinking was a struggle in those first hours.

Sometimes waking up from sleep feels like that, minus the drowning. And being asleep is just like before. Before the electric current ran through her body and shocked her awake. Before she could think, or even knew what thinking was. Back when everything was just darkness and a mild awareness that she existed, but no certainty whether she was dead or alive.

Dani never dreams—she doesn’t think she's capable of it—but she's always aware.

Another light tap comes at the door.

On instinct, she scans her surroundings for danger. She takes in the blue walls, the plastic star constellations on the ceiling, and the general mess of the room before relaxing and remembering. This isn't some old house she's squatting in for the night; it's her new home.

She frowns. Her new home. Home. Home. The word doesn't sit right with her. It's what she's always wanted, but this place... could it really be home without Danny?

"Danielle?" a soft voice calls through the door.

Dani jerks upright, throwing off the blanket, and transforms in a flash. "I'm awake."

The doorknob rattles then turns, and the door slowly opens. Maddie Fenton peers inside. Her eyes land on Dani and she takes a sharp breath. "Oh, you're..." She trails off as she looks Dani over.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I just wasn't expecting your ghost form."

Dani draws her knees to her chest, making herself small. "It's kind of my default."

"That's fine." Maddie steps forward. When she moves, something makes a crinkling noise, and Dani's gaze is drawn to a plastic bag hiding behind Maddie's legs. All wariness forgotten, Dani uncurls and crawls to the edge of the bed, clinging to the mattress while she leans forward.

"What's that?" she asks.

Maddie smiles and glances down at the bag. "We know you don't have much. Or"—she scans the room—"anything. So we picked up a few things on the way home. You'll probably need more, but we can take you shopping so you can pick things out for yourself. These are just some essentials."

She holds out the bag, and Dani eagerly snatches it up. Maddie wasn't lying when she said just the essentials. Inside, she finds a pair of pyjamas, a toothbrush—a toothbrush! She's never used one before—a hairbrush and some other toiletries, and lastly, a box with some kind of pad thing on the front. Dani takes out the box and turns it over in her hands.

"What are these?" she asks. They look vaguely familiar. Perhaps, once or twice, she glimpsed them sitting on drugstore shelves, but they had never caught her attention before.

"They're period pads," Maddie says.

"What are they for?"

Maddie opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her eyebrows crease together in confusion. Instead of answering, she walks forward to the end of the bed and kneels down. She reaches out, but stops before she can touch Dani and draws her hand back.

"How old are you?" she asks. "Jazz said you were at least fifteen."

"Technically, yeah. I think I was twelve biologically when Vlad made me? So I guess that makes me fifteen. But I've only existed for three years. My birthday is next month!" Dani grins. She didn't do much for her first birthday, but last year she visited Amity Park and Danny made a whole day of it! He even bought her a present, although Dani lost the music player pretty quickly. Not that she hadn't loved it, but it was hard to keep track of belongings when you weren't used to having them. She couldn't wait to see what they would do this year.

A second passes before Dani realizes what's wrong with that statement. Her grin falls away.

It doesn't look like Maddie noticed, though. She's too busy frowning at the box of pads that are still in Dani's hands.

"Have you never...?" Maddie gestures to the box, but Dani doesn’t know what she means. With a sigh, Maddie reaches out and takes the pads, setting them down on the floor. "I guess it doesn't matter what they're for right now, then. We can talk about that later. For now, how are you?"

Dani shrugs. "Okay, I guess." She was better a few seconds ago when she forgot Danny was dead for a blissful moment.

"We understand that this is all very new for you. And it's hard for all of us right now. Take your time. If you need anything, let us know. Other than that, you can just focus on getting settled. We'll take care of the rest," Maddie says.

Dani doesn't know what else there could be to take care of, but she nods anyway.

"Are you hungry? It's a little after noon right now and I was going to start making lunch. I could use some company."

"I could eat," Dani admits. Before arriving this morning, she didn't think to grab breakfast anywhere, and it has been well over a day since her last meal. Her stomach cramps, far from the worst hunger pangs, but still annoying.

Maddie smiles and stands up. "Perfect." She waves her hand, gesturing for Dani to follow. When Dani rises off the bed, her eyes widen. It only lasts a moment, a second of stunned silence, but it's enough for Dani to drop to the floor, her boots thumping on the thick carpet, feeling rather self-conscious.

Neither of them mentions it as they head downstairs. On the way down, Dani strains her ears, listening for Jazz or Jack elsewhere in the house. Jack, she hears quite easily, unsurprisingly. Loud, tromping footsteps carry up from the lab, their beat steady and constant. He must be pacing, Dani thinks. It reminds her of Danny. He used to pace when simply thinking didn't suffice; he needed to move through some problems, treat them like physical things he could see and touch. That's how he explained it to her once, not that long ago.

Jazz, if she's still home, doesn't make a sound.

Dani takes up residence at the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and sitting with her legs crossed over the seat. Meanwhile, Maddie starts taking ingredients out of the fridge. Nothing fancy. Lettuce, tomatoes, a few packages of sliced meat. A small pile of vegetables grows in the empty space beside the sink.

"If you don't mind, can you tell me what it's like?" Maddie asks as she pulls a cutting board from a drawer.

"What what's like?"

"Being a halfa."

Maddie, with her back to Dani, misses the way she presses her lips together at that word. Halfa. It's not a bad word, per se. Danny never had any issue with it, as far as Dani could tell, but it never sat right with her.

"I'm not a halfa," she says.

Maddie's hand pauses halfway to the knife block. She looks over her shoulder, finally noticing Dani's grim expression. "Am I saying it wrong? That's the term Jazz used."

"It's Danny's word." Maddie flinches, but Dani presses on. "And Vlad's too, I guess. Being a halfa means being half human and half ghost, but I'm just me."

"But you have both forms?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't all human before I became part ghost. And I didn't have to die for that to happen."

Maddie quickly turns back to the counter. Dani can't see her face, but it is impossible to miss how her shoulders tense. She grabs a knife from the block and a tomato from the counter and makes her first cut. The knife thunks against the cutting board. "What's it like being you, then?" There's a tremble in her voice. "With your powers."

Dani shrugs. "I'm okay with them. I'm a pretty fast flyer since that's how I always get around. Faster than Danny was."

Another chop, another loud thunk.

"But I'm really good at the weird body stuff! I got the hang of it really fast!" Dani can't help but smile. She holds her arm out, watching it slowly turn green and goopy. The sleeve of her shirt melts into skin and fat drops or ectoplasm slip off onto the table. The goop clings to her bones, only held together by her force of will. If she wanted, she could let it disintegrate into a bubbling puddle. Even the bone can turn soft and malleable as a licorice twist, although she doesn't let it get that far.

Thinking about why she can do this always brings up bad memories, but Dani pushes those aside in favour of how cool it is that she can melt into slime at a moment's notice.

"Look! Look at this!" Dani jiggles her arm, giggling as bits of ectoplasm go flying.

Maddie isn't looking, though. When Dani glances up to check, she finds Maddie staring down at the counter. "Was it like that for Danny?" Maddie asks.

Dani's smile falters. "Maybe? I got lots of training before I met him, but he was still better than me with most stuff. He couldn't do this, though!" She gives her arm another shake, then slaps it down on the table with a loud splat for good measure.

Maddie still doesn't look, though. She resumes her chopping, grabbing a pepper while pushing the tomato aside. "Tell me more."

—

Lunch is brief. Maddie brings a small stack of sandwiches and a plate of salad down to the lab for Jack, along with a small container of fudge. She comes back upstairs long enough to grab her own food before joining him.

"We're making some of our weapons safer for you to be around," Maddie explains before disappearing downstairs.

Dani isn't too disappointed to be left alone. While talking with Maddie was nice, it was always about her powers, always came back to Danny. Did Danny like flying? Did he struggle with his powers? You have this ability, did Danny have it, too? Genuine curiosity lingered in Maddie's voice with every question. Dani knows she's a scientist, and with that job comes a need for knowledge, a desire to understand everything. Having Dani in the house provides a unique chance to learn everything she can about ghosts and half-ghosts.

But something else lurked behind the curiosity. Dani, in her inexperience, can't properly name what she had felt, but it irks her. Makes her feel off-centre. When Maddie leaves, and Dani has a minute to herself, she breathes out a sigh of relief.

Her food disappears quickly. The sandwich is good; simple, but good. Same with the salad. Dani never starved on the road, but she ate what she could steal, pre-packaged foods snagged off gas station shelves. Once or twice, she snuck into restaurants to steal plates right from the kitchen, but that required stealth and patience if she didn't want to get noticed.

Once she has finished eating, and her plate is licked clean, she doesn't know what to do. Maddie left the fixings on the counter along with her dirty utensils. After a moment's debate, Dani deposits her plate and fork in the sink. She's washing her hands, squishing soap between her fingers, when Jazz enters.

Like Maddie, Jazz pauses when she takes in Dani's ghost form, but she doesn't comment on it. "How was your nap?"

Dani shrugs. Dipping her hands under the faucet, she watches the soap wash away, bubbles forming at the bottom of the sink. "It was good."

"Good." Jazz gathers her lunch in silence, grabbing the sandwich Maddie left out for her and loading a plate with salad. Once her plate is full, she starts putting everything away. Cutting board and knife in the sink, vegetables back in the fridge, bread wrapped and retied.

Dani watches, noticing little aborted movements Jazz keeps making. When she goes to put the bread away, her arm jerks as if she was about to throw it. She catches herself at the last second and walks it to the pantry. After the food is away, she grabs a tea towel rather than a dishcloth, and reaches toward the left sink, only to stop.

Dani peers between the empty left sink, and the right sink with the dirty dishes. "Something wrong?"

"No, it's... it's nothing." Jazz folds the tea towel and lays it on the counter, then grabs the dishcloth instead.

"Want some help?" Dani asks.

Jazz blinks. A strange look crosses her face, a soft smile tinged with hope that, to Dani, doesn't fit the situation at all. Jazz holds out the dishcloth and says, "First one done picks the show."

Dani grabs the tea towel since it's closer. "That doesn't really make sense. I can't finish drying until you're done washing," she points out.

Jazz stares at the tea towel, her own hand curling tighter around the dishcloth. "No, I guess it doesn't."

Dani abandons her cloth with the first dish Jazz passes over, phasing the cutting board dry rather than doing it by hand. She doesn't bother opening the drawer, either, shoving the cutting board right through the door instead. It takes less than a minute to get all the dishes clean and put away.

Jazz picks up her plate once the kitchen is clean and heads out. With nothing better to do, Dani follows her. They end up in the living room, Jazz claiming the left side of the couch while Dani takes the right. The remote lays between them for a second before Jazz grabs it. As she reaches for it, slowly, she keeps looking at Dani, as if she's checking for something, expectingher to do something.

Instead, Dani looks around the room.

Of all the rooms in Fenton Works, this is the one she has been in the least. With three windows looking out into the street and the front door right there, she and Danny always thought it was too risky to hang out here, in case Maddie and Jack came home when they weren't expecting it. A few family photos hang on the wall, and the cushions are well worn. Dani notes a significant dip on the loveseat. That must be Jack's favourite spot.

A burst of music pulls Dani's attention to the television. Jazz has put on a TV show. It starts mid-episode, but Dani actually recognizes it, to her surprise. She's only watched TV a handful of times in her life, although she has snuck into plenty of movie theatres. Although she can't remember the show's name, she knows it's about space explorers. The actors look different for some reason, but those colour-coded shirts are undeniably familiar.

"Has a redshirt died yet?" she asks.

Jazz hits pause. "You know Star Trek?"

"Danny showed me some of it. It's okay, I guess." When she says this, Jazz's eyes widen. A flicker of hurt passes through them, although Dani has no idea why. She ignores it. "This doesn't look like what I saw," Dani adds.

"He probably showed you the original series. He liked to start with that," Jazz says, quieter than before.

"So, what's this, then?"

"One of the series from the 90s. Deep Space Nine, I think? It's... it's the most recent one he was watching." Jazz's hand drifts over the remote, her fingers skimming the play button. "Do you mind if we watch it?"

Dani shrugs. "I don't care."

Starting partway through the episode, Dani doesn't quite know what's going on, and she doesn't care much to find out. It's entertaining enough to watch, but sci-fi isn't her thing. Hard to get into a genre that her whole existence revolves around.

Jazz is still eating by the time the episode ends. She's done by the end of the next, her crumb-ridden plate sitting on the coffee table, but neither of them makes a move to stop the show.

Every once in a while, Jazz glances Dani's way. She thinks nothing of it, at first, but by the fifth episode a frown has etched itself into Jazz's face, and Dani is getting annoyed as they near the two-hour mark.

The next time Jazz discreetly turns her head, Dani snaps. "Yeah?" The couch bounces as she swivels to face Jazz.

Jazz starts, then flushes, embarrassed at being caught. "I was just wondering, aren't you tired? I know you were sleeping earlier, but you've been in your ghost form all days. It's not exhausting?"

Dani shrugs. "No? I'm almost always like this."

"But Danny always got really tired if he stayed in his ghost form too long. Sometimes he would pass out or just lose the transformation completely."

"I'm not Danny, though."

Jazz stills. "Right. No, yeah. I guess you aren't."

"I'm not," Dani affirms.

Jazz nods sharply, jerking her head, and snaps her attention back to the TV.

—

The Fentons clearly have their own daily rhythm, one that sees surprisingly little impact without Danny's presence. Maybe they have already filled in the gaps in the couple of weeks Danny has been dead, but Dani doubts it. More than likely, he spent so much time as Phantom that it affected his daily routine.

Maddie and Jack spend most of their time in the lab, or out roving the city in their RV. There hasn't been another ghost attack since the one that killed Danny, and it probably isn't a coincidence, but the eldest Fentons don't seem to take that into account.

"They're trying to keep things normal," Jazz says when Dani asks her about it on the third day. "It's a normal coping mechanism. A good routine can prevent depressive episodes, as long as they aren't overworking themselves."

Ironic considering how Jazz is always working. Despite being on break from college, Dani catches her every day studying hard, chipping away at some paper, or breezing through a textbook thicker than her fist. She also has a notebook she keeps with her most of the time, labelled "Memorial Plans." An event Dani still knows very little about.

Dani falls into her own routine in those first few days. At mealtimes, she keeps whoever is cooking company. Maddie, if she's home. Jazz any other time. Dani takes to waiting in the kitchen for them, around noon and later at six o'clock. The first couple times they walked in to find her there, they looked startled, then pleased. Jazz's eyes actually watered, once. It doesn't take long before Dani fills in as a helper. It's more entertaining than watching, and after so long on the road, there's something nice about learning to cook. A reminder that she has time for it, that she will be here tomorrow and can do it again.

She and Jazz keep watching TV together, although the time varies. Whenever Jazz wants to sit down for an episode—and it's never more than that, despite how long they watched the first day—she finds Dani and asks if she wants any "Trek time." Dani gets the remote only once, on their second time watching. Instead of Star Trek, she picks a sitcom that looks funny and normal.

Jazz keeps the remote after that.

The only person Dani doesn't spend time with is Jack. She sees him once or twice, lumbering through the hall between the kitchen and the lab. As far as she can tell, he sleeps down there. He must since she has yet to find him on the second floor where the bedrooms are.

When she's alone, Dani occupies herself with Danny's things. He has a lot of stuff, and she has no idea what to do with all of it, much less what he did with all of it. Posters especially elude her. What's the point of something that doesn't actually do anything? She goes through his closet the most, picking at his clothes. There are a few shirts close to her size, since Danny didn't get his growth spurt until last year, but none of them suit Dani's style.

On her fourth day at Fenton Works, more than half a week since she arrived, Dani has all the shirts that fit her laid out on Danny's bed. None of them fit perfectly, but she wants to wear something new. You get sick of the same hoodie and shorts after three years, even if they grow with you.

A heavy, thumping knock comes at the door.

Dani, distracted by the shirts, says, "I don't really feel like it right now, Jazz."

"Dani." A voice much deeper than Jazz's greets her. When she looks up, she finds Jack in the open doorway, ecto-gun in hand. "Can we talk?"

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[merryfortune]

Day 10 / Electric

Clover and Violets 2021

Ship: not applicable | Kyoko/Hayami

Universe: Vrains

Word Count: 1,580

Rating: T

Tags: Post Canon, Meet Cute, Fluff, Implied Redemption Arc

   Hayami wasn’t good at meeting new co-workers. Not for lack of trying though, more like because of trying too much. She wanted to make a good impression. Even if it was a good impression on people who really got into the nitty-gritty of Sol Tech’s shadier dealings.

   So, she put on a big smile and she did what she did best: played the gopher.

   Not to brag or anything but she had gotten really good at making coffee these days. She made a mean dirty chai, in her opinion. She brought out five throwaway cups on a cluttered, wooden tray into the office chambers where they were having their meeting, as well as milk, cream, sugar, any topping they could really want: Hayami was doing her best to make their guests feel at home. Maybe even so much at home that they would drop the facade and use their real names. Akira told her not to be so hopeful but Hayami thought that a little bit of hospitality would go a long way.

   Regardless, she was the last one to walk into the room and Akira closed the door behind her, completing the soundproofing of the room. She smiled, big and gawky, as she set down the tray. And as she did so, she did a head count: their boss wasn’t here but the main entourage of this upper echelon on were, the only one missing aside from Revolver was his little assistant who had duelled Blue Angel.

   “Help yourselves.” Hayami said.

   “Don’t mind if I do.” nattered the man closed to her, he was about mid-thirties to early forties, glasses, and green hair.

   Hayami smiled. She then flicked her gaze to the other two, the other man and the only other woman aside from her,  made sure they were welcome to have some coffee as well. In the meantime, she took her own drink and sugared it to oblivion and beyond. The woman - with sharp cheekbones and devilish red hair - hid a giggle as she did that.

   “Are we all comfortable yet?” Akira asked.

   He sounded a little testy so Hayami made sure that he got his coffee promptly as well: he took it almost black, one sugar and a teaspoon of milk. He thanked Hayami with just his eyebrows before he took stock of the rest of the situation. It seemed so and thus, Akira began the meeting.

   And what a dull meeting it was, Hayami thought. It was dark inside the room and Akira’s voice droned; Hayami could have gone straight to sleep in her chair. Thank goodness she had the coffee. She wouldn’t have been able to keep her eyes open through it, and her mouth closed, too. It was all hypotheticals on top of hypotheticals; action plans for future action plans. Very ambiguous and open ended, she mostly just nodded and hummed in agreement whenever Akira said something she thought made sense or sounded good or if he just needed someone in his corner to back him up. 

   So yes, the meeting couldn’t end quick enough but when it did, there was time to linger. To get up, stand around, stretch their legs. The Knights of Hanoi mostly kept to themselves so Hayami took the chance to clean afterwards. She collected up the mostly empty throwaway cups and all the foodstuffs she had brought over in the first place but that Baira woman couldn’t let fine enough be. 

   Hayami was perfectly capable of doing it all by herself but she insisted. She glared, with pursed lips, and she tried to help Hayami when she did not want the help. The outcome was about what was expected. Hayami attempted to trod off with all of it in her arms; Baira tried to cut in and take some of her burden but Hayami refused with a smile and a mildly annoyed, furrowed brow.

   The two ladies engaged in an exceedingly polite warfare of push and pull and it ended with milk and cream going everywhere. Though, mostly it went all over Baira and that nice white jacket of hers.

   Hayami was stunned with her error and it was, mostly, her error. “I am so sorry.” she said. “I can pay for dry cleaning for you, if you like.”

   Baira laughed. “It's fine, I’ve been covered in worse.” Her laughter was coarse, barky, but jolly and good natured. “How about you just show me to the nearest restroom, huh, sweetie?”

   “Oh, yeah, totally.” Hayami chirped, stiffening up, she loved pet names and didn’t mind if they were used by near or virtual strangers.

   Hayami gathered up what was dropped and with Baira, they dawdled off. The nearest restroom was on the corner of the floor and they got cleaned up there. Hayami helped dab off stains on Baira’s coat, both thankful that it hadn’t been actual coffee that they had dropped on her.

   It felt odd for Hayami to pick up and bundle Baira’s coat but she seemed content to watch, observing Hayami with a sharp eye. Hayami blushed. She didn’t actually think she was that interesting but maybe she was.

   “There we go,” Hayami said, “all done.”

   “You’re good at this.” Baira said and she shrugged. “I’ll be the first to admit, cleaning, housekeeping, cooking: never been my forte, you?”

   “Love all of the above.” Hayami admitted, a little bit embarrassed.

   “You’d be a cute housewife, feeding the OL to wife pipeline, it's an important job.” Baira teased her.

   “Oh shut up.” Hayami playfully replied with a giggle but she toyed with her hair. “Its always been my dream to be a June bride, a bit old fashioned nowadays but I can’t help it.”

   “Better than my dream.” Baira shrugged. “But, like, no, really, if you go and get hitched, I think I’d miss you. Gets so dull being around men all the time. Like they just go on and on, like get to the point, mister or you're as bad as us misses.” 

   “I was thinking the same thing the entire time - and I like Akira.” Hayami laughed.

   Baira smirked. She was really taking a liking to this little lady - and not just because it felt good to be tall around one someone shorter than her.

   The two ladies finished up shortly after. And Hayami had to admit, she had really taken a liking to Baira as well. As mean as a woman Queen was, Hayami did miss having another woman about the office, especially one with sharp wit and the like. She was so socially awkward, having someone more extraverted and graceful about, whilst anxiety inducing, was the good sort.

   And the connection didn’t just stop there, oh no, it started and Hayami was having a hard time puzzling out Baira’s intentions. They seemed a little bit more than just friendly. She was a gift giver, it seemed. Only small things here and there and Hayami was making the point to return the tiny favours but some of the things Baira couldn’t help but unload were a bit odd. And none of them were her actual, literal name and whilst that information was out there on the big, bad internet, Hayami wanted to be entrusted with it on Baira’s terms and consent so she would wait.

   Wait whilst holding onto all those bits and bobs that Baira told Hayami reminded her of Hayami.

   Like hand sanitiser in a pink bottle. Cute, cleanly, and convenient. Hayami liked it but she thought it was a little strange. But not as strange as the extravagantly handled coffee mug that Baira had gotten her. The squirrel motif was a bit too on the nose for Hayami, she thought and the pun wasn’t all that great either. And then when Baira handed her the electric toothbrush, Hayami thought she had gotten the picture. 

   Hayami stared at the offending implement rather than the beautiful cityscape view in front of them, “You know,” she said, “if I didn’t know any better, I would say this was an invitation to move in with you. Or at the very least come over.”

   “I was wondering when you would get the picture.” Baira said with a laugh, happily gazing out to said cityscape in front of them but her eyes kept wandering back to Hayami. She was too cute and a lot more fun than the soiree they were both ignoring.

   “Oh.” Hayami murmured.

   “Oh, indeed.” Baira said. “But, well?”

   “Well, what?” Hayami said.

   “I have a key to an apartment I used to own, would you be interested in visiting?” Baira asked.

   “A little, yeah…” Hayami replied, a bit embarrassed and trying to play it coy.

   “Here, another gift then.” Baira said.

   Hayami looked up at Baira, still holding that darn electric toothbrush with one hand and extending out the other, and Baira dropped something in her palm. Her fingers swirled against the skin of Hayami’s palm flirtatiously and Baira gifted her a key complete with a keyring: one of those cow tag-like keyrings and it had writing on it.

   “Thank you.” Hayami mumbled.

   Baira smirked and Hayami had a closer look at the keyring. She blinked. Taki Kyoko. 103, 3F. Hayami’s heart fluttered.

   “I should give you directions there, yeah?” Kyoko asked. “So you don’t get lost, I mean, this party’s pretty boring and I was the bookworm in uni who never went anywhere but even this shindig’s boring me.”

   “I’d like that, thank you.” Hayami replied with a blush in her cheeks.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #394

“just want one thing  /  just to play the king  /  but the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name  /  where’s your crown, king nothing?”

Do you have your ears pierced more than once? Yeah; I have two in my earlobes and my right tragus pierced. I used to have a cartilage and anti-tragus piercing, but they closed when I had to take them out at the hospital. -_- Do you use an electric toothbrush? Yep. Have you ever seen a queen bee outside its hive? I don't believe so? Have you ever used Duolingo? No. Do you think the number 13 is unlucky? No. Which Clue (or Cluedo) character is your favourite? I always played Scarlet because I thought she was pretty. Do you have any novelty ice cube trays? No. Have you ever had a bad experience meeting a bf’s/gf’s parents? No. Do you get sick of eating turkey during the holidays? I don't eat turkey because I don't like it. I have honey spiral ham instead. Have you ever danced on a table? No. Did you have a lot of fun as a little kid? Yeah. Is there someone you can talk to all day, never running out of stuff to say? Some days. Ham or turkey? Ham. Would you rather eat nothing but fruits or nothing but cheese sandwiches? Fruit. What’s the last song you sung along to? I think Shinedown's "Get Up" while I was in the car. You get to be in any tv series or movie. (old/new) What are you choosing? Let's seeee... maybe Wonderland! Do you meditate? No; it actually stresses me out because I can't completely clear my head. What’s your go-to song when you’re angry? "Headache" by Motionless In White is a good one. What do you think about the most? My weight, honestly. It's at least an itching thought in my head at ALL times. Just being able to feel that I'm overweight and simply glimpsing a fatty part of my body is so, so upsetting. I usually look in the mirror to see if my face is slimmer whenever I pass one, or I'll grasp a part of my body to just feel if I've lost weight there. I could really go on and on about this, but I'd rather not, given it's depressing me talking about it. Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? No. How do you feel about archaeology? It's extremely fascinating to me. Any animals whose behaviors you find particularly interesting? ALL animals! Meerkats, however, quite obviously top my list. I love love love social animals, and their behaviors and deep connections remind me of just how human animals really can be, but honestly better half the time. What are your thoughts on gun control? There MUST be reform. I don't think entirely taking away the right to bear arms is the answer, but there needs, needs, NEEDS to be some serious tidying up regarding it. I believe it should be much more difficult to legally obtain a firearm with very extensive background checks and things of the like. I firmly do believe it would help SOME to prevent gun violence. Nothing is ever going to completely stop it unless firearms just cease to exist, but anything that helps reduce it is worth it. Would you have a big cat (like a tiger) for a pet if you could? Absolutely not. Big cats are extremely dangerous with strong hunting instincts, and besides putting my life at risk, I am not forcing a large animal into a small space. Do you like animals better than most humans? Sure as hell do. What simple things in life bring you the most joy? Hearing birds chirping in the morning, crickets and toads at night, starting my soda for the day (rip), watching snow fall, feeling a cool breeze on a nice day with the windows open, my pets wanting to cuddle... just to name a few. I massively appreciate the small things, so I could make this a very long list. What are your favorite smells? Cinnamon rolls, coffee, fresh baked bread, lilac, honeysuckles, etc. Ever found anything cool at a thrift store? What was it? Yeah! I've found some dragon figurines I use for decor, but the absolute coolest has to be this shipwreck lamp that I bought. I love flea markets. How do you find new music to listen to when you want it? YouTube recommendations, usually. Do you like all those dystopian future books/movies? They're all right. If you collect anything, what is your favorite piece of that collection? I collect two types of things: meerkat-oriented and Silent Hill stuff. My favorite part of my meerkat collection is Rebel, my super cute plushy that Jason got me. I slept with it for years and even now that we're done, I still hold the little guy very dear to me. My favorite SH piece I have is a limited edition, Japanese flyer for Silent Hill: Revelation that I won in a giveaway. How did you meet your significant other (if you have one)? N/A How did you meet your best friend? Via YouTube. Your favorite place to be aside from your home? Sara's house. Do you have any favorite books you’d like to have signed by the author? It'd be dooooope if I could have Tim Clutton-Brock sign my copy of Flower's biography. Do you like any board games or card games? I mean yeah. Not a lot, but some. What is your least favorite beverage? Of the things I've tried, probably black coffee. Do you like Breaking Benjamin? I do! What kind of music do you like? Metal, rock, alternative, and indie. Do you like guys with long hair? Yes. Have you ever seen an elephant? Yes. How many people of the opposite sex have you told you loved them? One, if you mean romantically. Do you and your mom get along? Yeah, we're really close. Have you ever had to change your phone number? Twice that I recall. I got a creepy text once, and another with threats. Ever been bitten by a spider? Not to my knowledge. When you were little did you jump in puddles? Oh, absolutely. Bugs: Cool or gross. Even though I'm scared of some of them, they're certainly still cool. Well, most. Do you wear a toe ring? No, I don't find those attractive at all. Have you ever had to babysit before? Twice, even though I didn't want to. Do you actually eat your fortune cookie, if you get one? Yeah, I like 'em. What's your favorite thing about cats? I enjoy how calm and independent they are. Salt, or pepper? I like both, but I prefer to have salt. Think of an ex. What's his favorite color? Jason's were green and purple. Which is better, the taste, or smell of coffee? I only like the smell. What item appears the most in your room? Meerkat stuff. Liquid eyeliner, is good, or totally sucks? My hands are WAY too shaky for that. Has a stray dog ever tried to bite you? No. Do you currently have any bug bites? No. Do you multitask well? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Do you know what an "AMV" is? Yes, because I used to make them and am considering getting back into it. What’s one award show you have to watch every year? None. Who do you like more: the Batman or the Joker? The Joker. Have you ever had a pet rock? I don't recall, actually? I might have as a little kid. Haha, there was one April Fool's Day that Mark sold rocks with his mustached "M" on them, and I SO wanted one. He gave all the earnings to a charity that I can't remember, so that also really made me wanna get one, but yeah, I was NOT asking Mom for even a small amount of money for a rock, haha. She woulda been so fucking confused. Do you know anyone with a lazy eye? Knew, rather. Did your parents let you have pets when you were a kid? Yes. What band was on the last band t-shirt you wore? Ummmm... I'm not sure. Maybe Korn? What’s the last movie you watched at a friend’s house? Elf, I believe? Do you have any tattoos on your arms? Yep. Do you own a teapot? No. Did you have a GI Joe when you were a kid? No. What is the origin of your last name? Irish. Do you ever use the "n"-word? NO. What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? It would depend on the person, but probably some sort of lip ring(s). What is your salad dressing of choice? Ranch, or the kind from Olive Garden. Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages? Yes. I wrote a massive essay on toxic masculinity during my last college attempt. I got WAY more into it than I thought I would.

[momentofmemory]

fictober - day six

Prompt #6: “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?”

Fandom: Spider-Man (All Media Types/Tom Holland Films)

Warnings: Discussion of Parental Death, Bullying

Rating: G

Characters: Peter Parker & May Parker

Words: 2867

Author’s Note: part iv of a may & peter series, but works on its own. i made a terrible mistake the second i set a 2K precedent on these things, but i’m honestly really happy with how this turned out, so. enjoy. :)

>>Pros and Cons

Peter is ten years old, and whenever May watches him finish his math homework, his mind is so far beyond hers it feels like he should be the one helping her.

She knows he’s brilliant—with parents like his, how could he not be—and his teachers start suggesting they look into science magnets before he even enters middle school. She and Ben try to support his passions as much as they can, but the endowment Mary and Richard left has long since run out, and they can only afford so many expenses at once.

Which is why, when Peter comes home from school with sparkling eyes and a crinkled permission slip clutched in his hand, May feels a familiar sense of guilt creep up her spine.

“Hi May!” Peter chirps, slinging his backpack and the piece of paper down on the dining room table.

“Hi yourself,” she says, picking the bag back up and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Snack’s in the kitchen.”

Peter makes a beeline for the peanut butter sandwich in question—one of the few things Ben allows May to make, mostly because it involves zero actual kitchen appliances—and shoves half of it in his mouth. “You won’t believe what happened at school today.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” May says, picking up the note from where it had fallen.

Peter swallows down white bread and store-brand peanut butter while May flips the permission slip over and reads the summary. Apparently there’s some kind of open lab session at the Museum of Science this Friday, and anyone from Peter’s school who wants to go is allowed to count it as one of their field trips for the year. It also includes an overnight lock-in for all kids ten and over, a cut off that Peter just barely meets.

“Isn’t it so cool?” Peter gushes, his sandwich properly consumed. “Mr. Abrams said there might even be an arc reactor replica in the special exhibit section!”

“I think we agreed to avoid all forms of Stark tech after the last expo you went to.” May hears Peter pour a glass of milk as she continues reading.

“This is totally different, May! No bad guys whatsoever.” He pauses. “Unless Flash shows up.”

“Who’s—”

“Anyway we get to go for like the entire day and do our own experiments and everything, it’s going to be awesome!” Peter skids back into the dining room and sits in one of the chairs, planting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. He stares up at her. “Soooo. I can go, right? Ned said he was going!”

May’s eyes find the dollar signs in the fine print and she winces: all expenses not paid. “I don’t know, Peter… didn’t you have another field trip just last month?”

“Yeah, but that was for the Museum of Math. Totally different.”

May frowns and rubs at her temples.

Peter, sensing her reluctance, launches himself to his feet. “I’ll get the board!”

“Peter—” May warns, but he’s scrambling off to the closet before she can stop him.

The board had been Ben’s idea: when Peter was seven, he’d bought an eleven by seventeen inch whiteboard and drawn a line in permanent ink down the middle, with “Peter” written on one side, and “The Adult” written on the other. The concept had been to help Peter learn how to balance pros and cons, and Peter had taken to it so well that he quickly learned to follow along without the visual. They still brought it out on occasion for added effect—like right now, apparently.

Peter returns from his quest and places the board on the table. He pops the cap off of the dry erase marker, and drawing a tally mark in the section labeled Peter, says, “One: it would be totally awesome. Point for me.”

He holds the marker out to May expectantly. After a moment, she sighs and takes it from him. “You’ve already gone on the required number of field trips for this semester.”

Peter frowns as May draws a line on her side. “I can qualify for extra credit if I go on more, though.”

“You’re at the top of your class, Peter, you don’t need any credit.” May draws a line on both her side and his side. “And aren’t you supposed to be saving money for the end of the year school project?”

Another line.

Peter scrunches up his face in thought, then grins. “Yeah, but I got a whole ten dollars from Mr. Delmar yesterday for helping look after his cat!”

…Line.

They continue swapping points for the next few minutes, and May has to admit that Peter does have a fair number of valid arguments. The board quickly fills up and by the time they’ve both run out of steam, there are ten careful lines drawn on both of their sides.

Peter stares miserably at the score: Parker rules state that all ties go to the adult. “…Ned will be there?”

May taps the marker against her thigh. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Peter’s eyes shoot back and forth between May and the whiteboard.

She sighs. “…Your point.”

Peter whoops in triumph as May draws the winning line in his side of the board, and she rolls her eyes and makes a mental note to ask for an extra shift tomorrow to make up for her lapse in judgement.

She doesn’t really mind, though. The electricity in Peter’s smile could generate enough energy to light up their entire apartment.

Peter talks about almost nothing but the trip for the next four days, and his enthusiasm is so infectious May finds she’s pretty excited about it, too.

Still, she has to remind him three times to pack his toothbrush and other necessities, and when he starts debating whether he should bring a change of clothes or the circuit board he’s been building out of parts fished from the dumpster, May wonders if he’s ready for an entire night on his own after all. She mentions this to Ben, who gets hung up on the fact that Peter has built an entire circuit board out of parts fished from the dumpster.

May concedes to this argument without having to get the whiteboard out.

Finally, Friday morning comes, and May bullies Ben into letting her drive so she can take Peter to school without risking being late for work herself. Peter clutches his backpack and chatters nonstop about all the things he’s hoping to build, but as they approach the parking lot his eagerness starts to dampen.

May flicks her blinker on and glances at him in the rearview mirror. “Drop off or walk you in?”

Peter runs his finger across the zipper on his backpack. “Walk in?”

“Sure thing, Tiger.”

May parks the car and takes Peter’s hand into hers, and together they walk up the marble steps of the school. His class is meeting outside, waiting for the Activities Bus to arrive, and May can see that several of the kids are already in the drop off area. She stops at the top of the steps and squeezes Peter’s shoulder.

“Got your toothbrush?”

“Yes.”

“Toothpaste?”

“Yes.”

“And that circuit board?”

Peter crinkles his nose and shrugs. “…Maybe.”

May shakes her head, and then gives him a little push towards his class. Peter stumbles a bit, caught off guard—poor guy’s always been a little clumsy—and then suddenly he’s spinning around and May has a ten year old wrapped around her waist.

“Bye, May,” he says, voice muffled by her coat. A warmth that has nothing to do with body heat steals into her chest, and she hugs him back.

“Bye, Peter.” She ruffles his hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Peter nods, and then he’s scampering off, his reticence all but forgotten as he sees Ned waiting for him.

May watches a moment longer, just enjoying seeing him laugh, and then shoves her hands in her pockets and hurries back to her car.

Having the apartment just to Ben and herself when she gets off work does, May will admit, have its perks—namely, having Ben to herself. She can’t help but feel a little anxious about Peter, but her cell phone never rings and there’s nothing in her inbox, so she relaxes and allows herself to enjoy a quiet evening with her husband.

That sense of peace continues until she picks Peter up the next morning, and he refuses to look at her.

She’d thought he’d be bubbling over with stories from the evening, but all of his answers are perfunctory at best and snappish at worst, so May gives up trying to prompt him and just reminds him they need to pick some things up before going home.

Peter says nothing in response, and May knows something is very, very wrong.

It’s late on a Saturday morning, which means the tourists are out in full force when May and a very sullen Peter arrive at the market. May starts weaving her way through the crowd, and when a burly man bumps into her and separates her from Peter, for a heart-stopping second she thinks she’s lost him. The crowd parts and she catches sight of his blue backpack, and she snatches up his hand before he can disappear again.

May is shocked when he jerks away.

“Peter?”

He balls his fists and looks away, and another person barges between them because it’s New York.

“Peter,” May repeats, dodging around them. “Give me your hand before you get lost.”

“I won’t get lost,” Peter says, and juts his lower lip out.

“What—? Come on, I don’t have time for this, you need to—”

“I don’t need you.”

May looks at Peter in shock. “Excuse me?”

His cheeks flush and his head turns sharply away, but he doesn’t take it back. And then, so quiet May almost misses it, he whispers, “You’re not my mother.”

 May swallows dry air, and even though the crowd has forced them together, she’s never felt so far away from him.

“Fine,” she says. “You follow me, then.”

May spins on her heel and makes her way to the vegetable vender, and while she’d like to say she doesn’t look back, she does, because she’s terrified he won’t be there.

She and Peter finish the rest of the errands in a similar fashion, responses clipped and Peter avoiding any kind of contact, no matter how incidental—even when she hands him the grocery bag to carry, he goes out of his way to keep their hands from brushing. When they get home, Peter goes straight to his room without even saying hi to Ben. He looks at her in bewilderment, about to head out the door himself.

May shrugs helplessly, and texts Ned’s mom before kissing her husband goodbye.

Fifteen minutes later, May’s staring at a blurry photo from yesterday of Peter hugging May on the steps, with the caption ‘MOMMA’S BOY—OH WAIT, HE DOESN’T HAVE ONE’ written on it. 

After an intense interrogation, Ned admits Flash had texted the photo to the entire class, and had tormented Peter with it until one of the teachers stepped in (conveniently just before the parents arrived). He also swears Flash didn’t get ahold of it until that morning, so Peter really did have a good time for most of the trip.

…Just not the end.

May thanks Ned for his honesty and hangs up the phone. She drops her head into her hands and her hair curtains her face.

Couldn’t Parker luck have given him a break just once?

She sits in silence and wonders how on earth she’s going to fix this. Then she stands, pulls back her hair, and puts the kettle on the stove—Ben isn’t here to stop her—and fixes two slightly scalded mugs of hot chocolate.

She taps on Peter’s door, mugs balanced precariously in one hand. There’s no response, but Peter doesn’t tell her to go away, either. She takes it as the closest to an invitation as she’s going to get.

The lights are off, and Peter’s backpack has been abandoned on the floor, and the circuit board he’d been so proud of looks a lot more warped than May remembered it being. Peter himself is curled up on his bed, facing the wall. He rolls over onto his back when May walks in, though his gaze remains fixed on the ceiling. The tear tracks on his face glisten in the light from the door.

“Ned told you?”

“He’s a good friend.” May sets the mugs down on his bedside table. “I’m going to have a long talk with your teachers about this.”

Peter lets out a long breath. “I should quit school.”

“I think we might be getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Nope.” Peter rubs his arm across his face. “Actually I don’t think I can go out in public again. Ever.”

May looks at him thoughtfully, then walks out of the room. She comes back a few moments later carrying the whiteboard, and Peter groans.

“No, May, come on.”

“Too late,” May says, marking the board. “Point one: never having to face Flash again.”

Peter peeks out from under his arm and frowns. “You put that on the Adult side.”

“Correct. We’re playing Devil’s advocate today: I argue for your side, you argue for mine. Your turn.”

“This seems unfair,” Peter says, but he pulls himself into a seated position and takes one of the mugs. “I… would never graduate or get a job?”

May places two marks under Peter, and then one under Adult. “Counterpoint: lots of people work from home. You could do everything online for the rest of your life.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be able to make like, friends and stuff. Or go see movies.”

May draws another two marks and Peter scowls. “I feel like it’s unfair that you’re marking down two for me and only one for you every time.”

“Stop making so many points, then,” May replies. “How about this: no friends means no one can make fun of you for having them.”

“I think not having things was the problem, actually.”

May freezes midway through drawing the line. Shit.

Peter offers her a watery smile. “Maybe put that on the other side?”

He seems sad, but sincere enough, so May wipes her finger over the unfinished line and places one on Peter’s. She sets the board down. “Peter, I—”

“I’m sorry.” Tears swim into Peter’s eyes and drop into his cocoa. “I didn’t mean it when I said—I said—” He holds the mug tighter to his chest. “…I just really miss her.”

May closes her eyes, and then sits down on the bed next to Peter and pulls him to her. “Me too, Peter. Me too.”

She runs her hand through his hair. “Did I ever tell you how much you remind me of her?”

Peter looks up. “…Really?”

“Really.”

May picks up the second mug for herself, and as they drink their cocoa May tells Peter about how much she loved the sound of Mary’s laugh. The way she always tossed her hair back and how her entire body would shake, holding nothing back, and the sheer exuberance she had for life—similar to Peter’s, in many ways. About all the trouble they used to get into together, and how happy Mary’d been when Peter was born. How she thought he hung the moon, and how she wanted to give him the stars in return. How much she loved him.

“May?”

She takes a sip of cocoa and hums.

Peter plays with his thumbs. “…I really didn’t mean it.”

Chocolate coats May’s tongue before gliding down her throat, but it doesn’t feel nearly as warm as Peter’s words. “I know, buddy. I need you, too.”

Peter glows, and May takes the last sip of her drink.

“Now. Since you’ve decided hanging out with me is cool again,” May says, wiping down the board, “wanna go dumpster diving for some tech while I tell you some more stories?”

“Really?” Peter’s thousand-watt smile lights up his face.

May plucks the empty cocoa cup out of his hand. “Really. We might even hit up some of the fancier ones in Manhattan, if you’re really lucky.”

“Whoa, cool!”

Peter races off to get his jacket and shoes, and May smiles. She doesn’t have the foggiest idea what kinds of things to help Peter look for, but she’d spent a night or two playing lookout for one Mary Parker during her wilder years. She was more than willing to watch over Mary’s son, too.

She stands and puts the whiteboard back in the closet, closing the door just as Peter finishes putting on his boots.

“Ready?”

Peter nods vigorously, and May grabs her keys as they walk out, locking the door behind them. May starts to walk down the stairs, and then a small hand slips into hers.

May looks down in surprise, and Peter flushes, but doesn’t let go. May squeezes his hand and doesn’t say anything as they walk out onto the streets, because she’s not his mom, and that’s okay.

She’s still his, and he’s still hers, and that’s all they need.

[autumn-maple13]

Lost to Time - Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Rescue

It stormed for a while, with the rain creating a kind of music for them as they continued to play match after match, only pausing to eat dinner when Ravus came to fetch them for it. They played long into the night, neither becoming the slightest bit tired, until just before dawn when a commotion was heard outside, including several loud explosions and what seemed to her to be extremely close lightning strikes in rapid succession. Ardyn left her then, and after finally having a moment to look outside she was surprised to find that her little room was on a base, and even more shocked to see that it appeared to be under attack.

Grabbing a bag that had been so conveniently left in the room the woman threw her things (and the bottle of wine and poetry books) into it, throwing it over her shoulder and took off with her kukris in hand. Knowing it had to be Lucians throwing the Imperials into such a panic, she didn't hesitate to slice the throats of any MT or human troop that crossed her path, grabbing a gun from one of them before she got outside the little compound. A woman in strange clothing was the first thing she saw when she burst out though, and something about the stranger made Amara freeze in her tracks.

"Daughter of Adagium, the Oracle sends you her blessing. She asks for you to continue to serve the Chosen King and awaits you now across the sea. A message will come to you then, should the twelve Arms of Lucis be found in time."

"You… A messenger?"

"Go forth, your power will come to aid the Chosen when he needs it most." Amara blinked, and the strange woman was gone – leaving only a chill to the still damp air in her wake. More confused than she had been in a while, Amara took a moment to look around for anything else strange, only to spot a piece of strangely shaped glass that seemed to have an electric current to it. She reached out to it tentatively, and though shocked when the current absorbed into her and joined her magic, the sight of the glass disappearing in a pile of sand worried her a bit more.

The Stormsender seeks to aid all helpers of the Chosen who can bear his burden. Daughter of Adagium, his blessing to you has been received – use it well.

"Stormsender?"

But the sound of metal striking metal nearby distracted her and sent her running towards it. Slipping between rubble from the explosion and the remainder of the Magiteknology on the base, she soon ran through a gate and spotted Ravus standing before her friends – with Noct having summoned the Royal Arms.

"Should the Chosen fall, that too is fate," she heard Ravus speak just before she warped in between the two nobles, shocking her friends and making Ravus scoff. But she didn't have time to say anything before she heard a sound off to the side – looking over to see Ardyn had joined them. Noctis dissipated the Arms, glaring at the man.

"I'd say that's far enough." The Chancellor smirked at his daughter, strutting over as Ravus turned his back on him. "A hand, highness?"

"Not from you."

Amara let Ignis and Prompto get in front of her, turning her attention to Gladio who was clearly in pain (though the slight dent in the side of the Regalia behind him also caught her attention).

"Oh, but I'm here to help."

"And how is that?" Ignis snarled, standing ready to attack at any moment.

"By taking the army away."

"You expect us to believe that?" Gladio was on his feet again now, and clearly looking for a fight.

"When next we meet, it'll be across the seas." The redhead chuckled. "Just so happens we have business of our own with the tutelary deity. Don't we?"

Ravus turned slightly as he was spoken too, catching Amara's eye for a moment, but saying nothing.

"Fare thee well, your Majesty, and safe travels."

As the Imperial duo left, Prompto looked between his friends before his gaze finally landed on Noct. "You guys, know that guy?"

Ignis muttered for a moment before nodding. "Ravus Nox Fleuret, first son of Tenebrae… and older brother to Lady Lunafreya."

Noctis growled in displeasure for a moment, but Amara was already climbing in the car – effectively reminding them of why they were there in the first place. With Noctis jumping behind the wheel and the guys climbing in after him, they were soon pulling out onto the road outside the base, though only once they were well down the road did anyone speak again.

"Did anything happen to you while you were there, Amara?"

"Other than whatever made your hair grow like that."

"What did make your hair grow so fast? I mean, it's only been a couple days!"

The woman smiled for a moment, looking around at them. "I missed you guys."

"We missed you too Ams, though I think Specs missed you the most."

The Advisor scoffed, lifting some of his friend's hair from her shoulder. "So?"

"Apparently I was in really bad shape after fighting the MTs at the Disc. They had to use so many potions and stuff on me, it made my body regenerate like crazy, which made my hair grow super-fast. My nails did too, but I guess they decided to keep those trimmed so I wouldn't claw their eyes out or something."

"Other than that, though?"

"I was out for a couple of days, and Ravus was the one who got stuck watching me. Once I woke up, I spent most of my time with Ardyn playing chess." She shrugged. "I did learn something about him though – he really sees no need to keep pawns for long. If he issues any kind of commands in the same way he plays, I think we're going to start running into a bit more trouble from the Niffs."

"What? We were stuck running around Duscae, and you were sitting comfortably playing chess the whole time?!"

"I was a captive of the fucking Empire. Ardyn wanted to play chess, I sat my ass in a seat and played chess. I already knew I was still in Lucis and I found out the Regalia was on the base, the only thing I didn't know was if I could get to it and get the hell out to find you guys on my own."

That seemed to sate them for the moment, and she was able to lean against Ignis to enjoy the ride back to Lestallum to meet Iris (and get her motorcycle). Only once they were back in the city limits did anyone speak again, though only to ask about the sudden surplus of Imperial flags donning the city. Amara shook her head, taking a moment to swap her stolen bag for her other one, and quickly checking her bike so she and the guys could head for the Leville. Strangely enough, there wasn't but a few people on the streets – making them pick up the pace to hurry to the hotel. Iris met them in the lobby, tearing up the second she saw her brother.

"Oh, Gladdy."

"What's wrong?"

"I let you down. I never made it to Caem. The empire came while you were gone." Iris choked on a sob, turning to lead everyone upstairs to a room so they could talk privately. Deciding it may be best for her to leave them too it, the older woman hugged Iris's shoulders on the way up the stairs but excused herself to the next room once they reached the top. She ducked into the bathroom, dropping her bag beside her, and began washing her face furiously, then scrubbing her teeth as soon as she had dug out her toothbrush. When it proved to not be quite enough – she threw herself in the shower and ran a soapy rag over herself until she was sure she'd damage her skin if she continued. So she got out, and dried herself to throw on her green pajamas, hesitating when she remembered her father had bought them for her.

The thought made others begin to race through her head as she dressed, with none of the dead nobles giving her a word of advice as they had before. Further clarity concerning her lineage was doing nothing to clear up her forgotten history: to be honest all it was really doing was confusing her – making her feel more guilty.

The product of a union between members of the two most powerful magic-retaining families… she didn't feel like she had what it took to bare the fact proudly just yet.

She was staring at her reflection, the bags under her eyes and the long, untamed mess that was now her hair when a knock brought her from her thoughts. The bathroom door slowly opened, and she was met with Ignis standing there, suddenly looking a lot more tired than she remembered as he peeled off his shirt.

"We're going to Caem."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. We need to see what preparations need to be taken care of so we can head for Altissia as soon as we finish gathering the arms… We should probably look over that map of yours before we set off tomorrow." He looked at her, the bags under his eyes looking even darker with the shadows falling across his face the way they did, as he face his already bare fingers through his hair to make it fall. "A lot happened while we were gone…"

"Some bad things, judging by Iris's crying," she nodded, and looked over at her friend again. "I didn't see Jared or Talcott around."

"It was Jared."

Amara sighed, shaking her head. Although she had met the man several times before and grown fairly fond of him after visiting the Amicitia household as many times as she had, she couldn't make herself feel too upset about it when she thought about how hard Talcott and the siblings would be taking it. "What happened?"

"A Niflheim officer struck him down on the street."

"I see."

The woman let him slip behind her in the bathroom, setting his glasses aside to wash his face while she took a moment to look at him.

"You know, I don't think I've seen you shirtless before Iggy. Didn't you say something before about appealing changes?"

"I didn't think you'd have it in you to joke around after news like that." He was patting his face dry, but still managed to give her a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Being in the Glaive so long, jokes are the way I deal with bad news now. Sorry." Amara sighed, picking up a brush to try and get the still damp knots out of her hair. Her companion was quick to take it from her, making quick work of the tangles as he watched her reflection in the mirror. He ran his fingers through it as he watched her eyes follow the motions.

"It does look good long, but don't you think it may get in the way in a fight?"

"You think it looks good?"

"Ah… you don't?"

The woman smiled slightly, waiting until he put the brush down to look at him directly. "I do."

"So, we'll have to figure out something to do with it."

"I already have some ideas, but for now I'll just tie it back for bed." She let Ignis watch as she retrieved her ribbon from her bag, and after carefully pulling her hair up back used it to tie it in place, though she let her bangs stay free and frame her face. The man seemed to fight himself for a moment, then reached out to brush a few strands behind her ear. His eyes searched her face for a moment, looking at every scar from the magic ones to the one from Insomnia – which his fingertip traced softly.

"Are you certain nothing happened while you were with them, Amara?"

"No," she admitted, closing her eyes to focus on the warmth from his hand as she tried to figure out what to tell him.

"What?"

"Ignis," the Glaive couldn't meet his eye for a moment, but when she did, she met a gaze full of concern. It was almost overwhelming, and not from guilt this time. "I'm sorry."

"For what? What could you have to apologize for? I don't think anything could top being able to communicate with the old kings."

"Even if it turned out that the reason I can do that is because there's a chance Bahamut has marked me for something? A chance I only ended up in Insomnia on that street for Rosemary Solis to find me because my abilities with the crystal's magic was too important for Bahamut's plan for me to wind up dying alone somewhere?"

"Well it certainly would explain a bit, though not why one of the kings tried to kill you."

"About that… when I got down to the Arm at the Disc, the king – Somnus – actually appeared to me. He was the one I thought tried to kill me, but he wasn't actually trying to. King Somnus was trying to trigger some latent ability to awaken fully, but to do that he had to try and get rid of an issue that one of my parents had passed on to me when I was conceived." She paused, reaching up to wrap her hand around his and pull it from her face. "Every time I speak to one of them and they give me their knowledge and the 'Arm', the power of the Arms hurts me because it's burning away a bit more of it since he couldn't that first day."

"An issue you say?"

"It's not something too bad, it's just really badly affected by light magic like Arms, and Noct's Armiger."

"So, the more Arms he gathers, the more this issue is fixed?"

"Yes, it's just so much more painful because my body is being tricked by the problem into trying to defend it. You know, like when you're really sick and your body tries to reject medicine?"

Ignis nodded slowly, taking a moment to take in the new information. He finally sighed after a few seconds and looked at her again, turning his hand to squeeze her slightly. "I think we should get some rest before you make any more revelations."

"Yeah," she giggled softly, making him smile for a second before she slipped past him and headed for the bed. Peeling back the covers to climb in, Amara watched him turn off the light and join her, though not before ditching his slacks and going to firmly shut the traitorous blinds that were allowing the light of the rising sun to fill the room. The woman allowed herself to press into his side as she had the first night in the caravan, relaxing when she felt his arm wrap around her. But she surprised him when she pulled herself down from the pillows so she could rest her head on his chest properly.

"Are you cold, Amara?"

"I can't be cold around a space heater like you, Ignis," she joked, feeling her face heat up. "I just wanted to be a bit more comfortable."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you had a fever from as warm as your face feels."

"Shut up, this is not the time for that kind of talk."

Ignis shifted, forcing her back against the mattress as he held her down gently by her shoulders, hovering over her as he sat up. "Then when is the time?"

"Ignis-"

"Amara, you were missing for days," the man looked down on her with a look she had only seen once before when they were still kids - after Noctis had returned from Tenebrae. "Every time we have another success with Noctis you end up getting hurt in one way or another, Chancellor Izunia clearly has something in store for you that I don't even want to try and imagine, and now the Empire has begun to show it clearly could not care less about its image in Lucis which means at any given time we could become a target for their attempts to get to Noct… or die for getting in their way."

"That's exactly why, Ignis. We need to focus on Noctis, and making sure he gets the Arms, and now the covenants. We can't afford these kinds of distractions."

"What if… What if I told you it would be less of a distraction?"

The woman could help but smile again, reaching up to brush her finger tips against his cheek. "Ignis, you're the Hand of the King now. He has to be your first and only priority."

The man frowned, but nodded, though he still didn't release her. Turning his face into her palm, he fixed her in a strangely intense look instead. "Then let me be selfish, just for tonight."

"It won't be just tonight, you know that. Besides, there's a chance I won't want to give you back."

"Then I guess it's a good thing it's not even noon yet." He smirked against her fingertips, ducking his head so her palm came to rest against his hair. Amara gazed up at him, allowing herself to be lost in his gaze before she shut her eyes and leaned up to meet him.

[stupidpianist]

27 october 2018

10:00: Shut off alarm, hit snooze. I set my phone’s snooze to ten minutes, I should probably lower it to five because of the frequency with which I “snooze”...

10:10: Shut off alarm again, put it to snooze.

10:20: Turned off all alarms until alarms at 11h. Got up and chugged giant glass of water from Brita.

10:21: Back in bed. Trying to sleep more, not ready to “start the day” yet.

10:40: Woke up from strange nightmare in which the world was experiencing an apocalypse, hard to remember exact details, remember being on an ark-like massive boat, trying to escape from some kind of antagonistic war force? Remember there being a corrupt leader. Almost 99% of my dreams are about banal things, like, literally Googling things and reading Wikipedia, the other 1% are always really dangerous apocalyptic or life-threatening situations in which I’m trying to save as many people as possible.

11:00: Shut off alarm, turned over to right side, went into “fetal position,” thought, “wow, this is comfortable, wow, this is so comfortable.”

11:30: Woke from another weird dream, dreamt that I was seeing the band Ghost perform in Montreal, only, the crowd was really diminutive, and most of the people in the audience were inexplicably not paying attention to the show at all. I was able to go right up to the stage. They played a few songs. I woke up. Weird. Going to get up now and clean my bathroom, it needs a “thorough scrubbing.”

11:31: Chugged another massive glass of water from Brita. So satisfying, one of the most satisfying things, waking, feeling dehydrated, taking glasses of water “to the face.” Mm. Yum.

11:32: Cleaning bathroom. Have probably super-harmful-to-environment chemical thing that is used to scrub porcelain surfaces. Have my “trusty,” “handy dandy” cleaning sponge. Have paper towels. First scrubbing tub, it’s gotten so grimy, wow… I remember when I used to work in a local ice cream parlor in my town, and one of my favourite things to do would be to mop the floors. The other employees and managers found this really weird, always said, like, “nobody wants to mop the floors,” but I always explained that it was one of the few activities that you could see the 1:1 results of your efforts immediately after doing it, and so I found it really really satisfying. Feeling the same way right now, scrubbing the tub, seeing all the muck and filth wash away with every little sponge motion.

Moving onto the sink now, first have to clear everything off of it. Electric toothbrush, check. Plastic comb, check. Gatsby hair product thing, check (when Phoebe came to use my wifi she was like, “of course you use Gatsby,” and I thought “oh crap, I’ve been ‘caught,’ I’ve been ‘pigeonholed’”). Toothpaste, check. Razor, check. Scrubbing sink now, scrubbing hard, scrubbing efficiently. This chemical stuff really “works wonders,” there must be some seriously bad stuff in here… Should I be using gloves? I don’t have sensitive skin, I’ve never really had problems with… With chemicals and my hands? I don’t know, seems like I should be using gloves right now.

11:43: Okay, deep-clean scrub finished, going to shower now, been looking forward to showering since last night. Don’t know why, I shower every day? I don’t know, maybe it’s from excitement that I’m, like, “preparing for the night,” going to meet up with person I met for drinks with a few nights ago this evening, extremely excited to do this, so, like, the shower is, like, propelling me into the day? Which gets me closer to the evening? I don’t know I DON’T KNOW I’m just trying to say I’m really hyped for this shower, okay? Going to put on some sweetass shower music. I got the best shower tunes, hit me up if you want the “sickest, dopest” shower playlists. I can curate them to your specific genre or BPM preferences. Just let me know, “drop me a line.”

11:48: Putting on clothes now. Going to “throw on” my “edgy pants,” and a thermal top, and “FUNERAL” hoodie, and Walnut Hill jacket. “Standard attire,” heheh. Wondering if I should also wear my raincoat? It’s supposed to rain steadily this evening, but I don’t want to be, like, sweating… I also don’t really mind the rain, it’s just water, it’s really not that big of a deal, it’s just like, you’re wet, so what? I’ll just bring my super crappy umbrella with me, that should be enough to mitigate any “water damage” my body could take. Read in Disaster Artist yesterday that Tommy had a daily routine of drinking five Red Bulls. Reminds me of me in middle school. “Fiending for” a Red Bull today, really “jonesing” for one, going to put some change in my pocket and grab one from a dep on my way to school.

12:00: Backpack: PACKED. Wallet: IN POCKET. Keys? I GOT THOSE TOO, BABY. Going to head to school and update this liveblog, and then practice piano for however many hours my brain lets me. Not sure what kind of “piano vibes” I’m getting today, but I hope it’ll be good?? Have also been putting off listening to Daniil Trifonov’s newest album, it’s Rachmaninov’s second and fourth concerti, and some Bach transcriptions. I really don’t like the fourth concerto, and I only sometimes like the second, even though I was super obsessed with it when I was younger, in my early-and-mid teens. Remember texting one of my friends, someone I feel more fondly towards than almost any of my friends, Alex, how long it took him to learn the first movement of the second concerto, just as a baseline so I could compare my own timeline and see if I was “on par” with how good at learning new pieces I wanted to be, and he told me he learned it in something ridiculous like one afternoon. He’s one of the most self-determined people I’ve ever met, maybe the most self-determined, miss him a lot. Should send him a message, why haven’t I done that...

Sorry sorry yeah so I’m going to take some time too and listen to the album in the practice rooms. Will probably/inevitably give me more practicing motivation. I am a huge fan of Trifonov. Will let you people know how the album is.

16:25: Packing up my piano books. Hey hey hey! Hi hi hi! What’s up YouTube!! If you’re wondering how the practicing went, it was… Satisfactory. I started warming up with some Schubert, his last sonata, and promptly started like sobbing uncontrollably. Can never seem to make it more than a few pages in before this always happens. Played through the first movement and second movement, no repeat in the first just to “save time” as I intended it to be a warm up, and created a pretty substantial pool of tears on the practice room floor by the time I was done. How the heck does anyone practice pieces like this without becoming a giant mess of tears?? Dissociate? I don’t know.

Felt really really good to play through it, though; one of my favourite pieces that I love the more and more I work on it. I thought I sounded really good in the Schubert, so I moved to Alkan, which was substantially worse. Felt like I had really heavy brain fog, like, a dense miasma of brain fog. Was able to play, but felt distinct disconnection between what my hands were doing, and what my head was thinking. I really hate that sensation, when you don’t feel in control of what you’re playing, so I switched to Thalberg, which was a bit better, but really just felt off. Played it through and did a little passage work before turning to Beethoven, opus 110, another one of my favourite sonatas, and my favourite Beethoven sonata by a long shot. After working on this pretty intensely I was like, okay, so you practiced for an okay amount of time, four hours or so, and even though you didn’t sound good, or feel good, you still did work, and you still put in effort.

Haven’t gotten groceries in a long time, going to head to Provigo to get supplies for massive Greek salad and pasta, here’s what I’m gonna get:

-bell peppers

-cherry tomatoes

-english cucumber

-lemon

-kalamata olives

-dill (maybe, if i want to “splurge”)

-red onion

-feta cheesee

-pasta sauce (i’m lazy i don’t wanna make it myself don’t judge me okay)

-mushrooms

Have the rest of the ingredients like dry pasta and stuff for Greek salad dressing at home. Gonna try and “beat the rain,” too.

16:45: Success in the grocery store. Also ended up buying a large scented candle as a bit of an impulse purchase; I really like things that create pleasant/comfy/cozy scents, and my Airwick thing I plug into my wall ran out of oil, and I don’t have any more incense, so I was like, “yeah, my mom loves scented candles, I love scented candles, let’s get a scented candle, yes.” Chose “Cashmere Woods” scent. It’s brownish in colour. Hope it smells as good as the name implies, one can never tell just by pure sniffing of the unmelted wax… Very… distrustful… Oh, oh! Also got bananas. Need some breakfast food that I can take and run out of the door.

16:56: Home. Going to unpack groceries and then read more of the Disaster Artist in bed, I think. Will also catch up on some YouTube tech videos. Feeling like a real nerd right now.

16:59: Got a Facebook message from the person I’m seeing again tonight!!! Okay so we’re going to meet at 22h, that gives me enough time to be productive before then, getting really cozy in bed, “settling in” for a nice read. Heheh. Ho ho ho. Something about “hehe” is just so funny to me, I still can’t place why, can any of you help explain it to me?

18:13: Got through a whole slew of tech videos, a whole mess of tech videos. Was just starting to read Disaster Artist when I heard the notification sound from my speakers hooked up to my laptop on my esk that notifies me when my younger brother signs into Overwatch. “Chatted him up” and he said he could play A FEW ROUNDS. MULTIPLE. Do you people realize how huge this is?! Usually he just has time for one! Maybe it’s because he has a long weekend? Monday for him is a teacher’s day or something, so he gets it off. Either way, here we go!!!!

19:37: Wow those were some INTENSE games. Played tank for some of it, then DPS for most of it. Haven’t actually played Tracer in so long, I used to main her so hard. Still my favourite champion to play alongside Junkrat. We played pretty well, won most of our rounds, wow, my adrenaline is so pumped up from that, can’t believe it’s been over an hour?! Holy heck that flew by. Brother going to eat dinner now, recommended that I make greek salad. Will probably do that, or maybe go for a run?? I don’t know, I’ve been so physically inactive the past week, I feel like a slug, I should at least do SOMETHING.

20:08: Yeah my adrenaline is pumping way too hard. This always happens, as a kid even if I was just having a “playdate” with a friend, I would get so so so, uh, not anxious, but like overly excited? Manic? That I literally couldn’t focus on anything or sit still, so I’d just run around doing menial activities while sweating through my palms profusely and just feeling a huge tightness in my chest. This still happens to me, but not as strongly, I think?? Unless I’m super excited to see someone, which I am tonight?? I need to “burn off some steam,” think I’m going to go on an intense bike ride, okay, see you guys soon, yes yes YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

20:13: CHRIST ON A CRACKER I forgot it’s raining now!!! OH NO HOW AM I GONNA crap crap I don’t have a flipping fender for my bike so if I go biking I’m gonna get soaked crap crap crap maybe I’ll just take a walk and blast music?? Yeah that’s feasible, won’t get too “wet” from that it’s gonna be great, I’ll do that, okay!!!! Just “thinking out loud,” here, folks, move along, nothing to see here, nothing at all.

20:41: Back from walk. Was really nice, rocked out to some Ghost (Rats, Con Clavi Con Dio, Cirice, Faith, in that order, I think?) and just chose some side streets off of Saint Laurent. Picked up a “quille” of 10.1% Labatt that the person mentioned wanting to get after she taught me the Quebec slang for those 1.17L, or 40oz dirt cheap big bottles of beer. Can’t call them 40s here, different system of measurement, can now call them quille. Seems astounding it took me this long to learn the term for it. Also got some Unibroue beers to “balance out” the pond scum that is 10.1 Labatt, even though it seems like my best friends here and I all concur that 10.1 Labatt is strangely delicious? Like we’d voluntarily, and do voluntarily drink it. Ooh, and some Powerade, lemon-lime flavour, my favourite. I’ve always preferred Powerade to Gatorade in terms of taste for as long as I can remember. You may be asking, “George, that’s a lot of liquids, why did you even get the Powerade, that’s just sugar water.” You’re right, but I just got my pay stubs from the last two weeks so I know how much I made so I was like, “you can go crazy, it’s the weekend before Halloween, do it, loser.” And you know what??? I DID IT. Going to eat a turkey sandwich now. Internal monologue repeating, “a nicely stocked fridge means a nicely stocked mind.” Hehe. Eheheheh.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The one where Bucky and Steve get married

Summary: Where Bucky is the world’s deadliest bridezilla, Steve gets a ‘close’ shave with a Cold Steel Recon knife, Bucky gets sentimental about flowers, and the boys get married.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers; Best Man Sam Wilson, Best Woman Natasha Romanoff; Tony Stark gets a license

Warnings: Bad language words, lots of sassy Bucky, brief mention of knife play. So much fluff. A bit of SMUT, so please follow the rules and be 18+ to read (or at least skip the shaving scene).

A/N: Here’s my story for @hellomissmabel ‘s birthday and 2k follower celebration, congrats again Annie! The idea was to include ‘yellow roses’ into a story, and in case you didn’t know, yellow roses are all about new beginnings. That’s always an excellent theme with our favourite boys, right?

A/N 2: Want to read it in Chinese instead? Find the translation here!

MASTERLIST

***** THE BIG DAY (EARLY MORNING)

Steve Rogers is wrapped in a warm, fluffy blanket burrito when the bedroom door slams open. It booms like canon fire and he jerks awake with a shout, tumbles off the bed, and smashes his head on the nightstand.

Scrambling to untangle from the sheets, he scrubs the grit from his eyes and looks around in a panic.

Bucky Barnes stands in the doorway, wearing nothing but electric blue boxers and a massive smile. He’s holding his toothbrush in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

He is the only human being on the planet who drinks coffee while he brushes his teeth.

He’s fucking weird.

Steve loves him so fucking much.

“Wakey, wakey bitch! We’re getting married today!” Bucky takes a huge slug of coffee, and pops his toothbrush back in his mouth. He’s grinning at Steve while he brushes, flecks of white foam dripping to the floor.

“You’re fucking weird.” Steve mumbles, collapsing back to the floor.

Bucky laughs at the top of his lungs.

*****

SIX WEEKS EARLIER 

Sam sprints alongside Steve. He has so many questions.

“So, you’re doing all the traditional wedding shit?”

“Jesus, of course. Bucky insisted. His list gets longer every damn day.”

Sam’s picturing things like ‘make everyone do the Jitterbug’ and ‘recite old-timey poetry’ so he’s intrigued.

“What’s on his list?”

--- 

Bucky slaps a piece of paper on the table. Steve glances at the headline.

ALL THE SHIT I WANT TO DO AT MY OUR WEDDING

“The hell’s this?”

“We’re getting married asshole. We need to plan.”

“I’m aware you dick, I just thought you got a wedding planner.”

“I fired her. She was fucking with my vision. Anyway, these are things I want.” 

Steve picks up the list. “Writing our own vows, string quartet, customised rings. Sure, these are easy enough. Can I veto us doing the YMCA though? I hate that song.

“No. It’s my wedding and I want to do the YMCA.” The look on his face indicates he is unlikely to be swayed.

“Jesus, bridezilla. Fine.” He keeps reading. “How are you going to throw a bouquet, you’re not carrying flowers?”

Steve looks up.

Murderous Winter Soldier bridal glare.

“Okay, okay, sorry, we’ll find something for you to throw. You want to give fake grenades as party favours?”

“You’re supposed to give party favours that reflect who you are as a couple and since I really like grenade launchers and you really like having grenades launched at you, I think this is good. Maybe later that night, we can have people roll them on the floor and you could jump on them and remind us all that you’re an idiot with no sense of self-preservation.”

Steve clenches his jaw.

Murderous Winter Soldier bridal glare is back.

Steve lets it go. Back to the list. 

“Shoving cake in Steve’s face – what the fuck is this about?”

“It’s a tradition. Don’t argue with me.” 

“But why do you get to do it? Why can’t I shove it in your face?”

“Uh, because it’s my wedding and you said I got to pick anything I want, and this is what I want. Don’t ruin my special day Steve.”

“I’m not, I was just – “

“No excuses. Get on board the wedding train punk.”

Steve crumples the paper into a ball and throws it at him. “You’re a dumbass.”

“Choo choo motherfucker.”

--- 

Sam has to stop, he’s laughing too hard at this point.  

“He also wants everyone to stand up when he walks down the aisle.” Steve shrugs. “But you know. Whatever makes him happy.”

Sam’s nearly hyperventilating. “This is the best damn conversation I’ve had all month. Has he made any decisions you’re actually pissed about?”

Steve huffs irritably. “Well, there’s one thing. This whole ‘carrying someone across the threshold’ shit. He said he was carrying me, I disagreed and said I wanted to carry him. So we had an arm wrestling contest to decide.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And Bucky is a dirty, lying, cheating cocksucker.”

“So, you’re saying you lost?”

“What I’m saying, is that I don’t know why I’m still surprised when he cheats at everything, after knowing him for a hundred god damn years.” Steve retorts, scratching his chin. “He’s a real piece of shit sometimes.”

“True. But he’s your piece of shit.”

“True.” Steve agrees. “Thank god.”

*****

THREE WEEKS EARLIER 

Bucky likes lists. He makes them for everything. Sometimes he makes lists and puts ‘make a list’ on the list, just so he can cross it off. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen counter chewing on a piece of beef jerky, reading his latest updates.

SHIT TO DO BEFORE MY OUR WEDDING

Confirm the cake (Cake tasting was a religious experience. Bucky swears he saw the face of God in that buttercream frosting.)

Pick my entrance song (The best song. He found the best fucking song.)

Order flowers (He’s already picked them out, just needs to place the order. He really hopes Steve gets the sentiment.)

“You better move your ass if you need to order flowers. They book way in advance.” Natasha is leaning over his shoulder, stealing his beef jerky and examining his list.

“Don’t take my fucking things Natalia.” He snatches for the beef jerky, but she ducks away.

“What kind of flowers are you getting? Do I need to help you? I don’t want you to ruin this.”

“Yeah thanks, it’s not real hard, just a couple yellow roses. I’ll manage.”

“Sounds lazy. Tell me why.”

Bucky smirks at her, before it fades into an honest to goodness smile. She watches the adoration flood his features. He tells her a story.

“Did you know, before the serum, Steve was colour-blind?”

Natasha raises her eyebrows. “Interesting. That wasn’t in the files.”

Bucky hums. “Yep. Couldn’t see much besides shades of grey. Remember him saying, when he opened his eyes coming out of that tube, actually saw colour, first thing he noticed was Carter’s red lipstick. Shocked him so much he threw up on her shoes.”

He barks out a laugh at the image. It’s one of those stories Bucky loves to tell, partly because it’s endearing as fuck.

Mostly because he lives for the embarrassment on Steve’s face.  

“Anyway, back in the day, all the guys used to wear flowers when we went out Saturday nights. There was an old lady who had a stand outside the Fulton Street El, and I always stopped to negotiate – I’m a master fucking negotiator, by the way – to get us a couple.”

--- 

1939, Brooklyn: Steve’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a battered tin of shoe polish in one hand, his worn leather boot in the other. He glances to the rusted silver clock on their bookcase, wondering when the hell Bucky’s getting home, when he hears heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.

He’s a whirlwind when he bursts through the door, throwing his bag on the floor, toeing off his shoes as he walks.

“I know, I know, I’m late! Don’t be mad, had to make a stop.” Bucky’s breathing fast, sweaty pieces of hair plastered to his forehead when he rips his flat cap off, flinging it across the room. His bright blue eyes are wild with laughter as he throws a packet of parchment paper into Steve’s lap.

He keeps talking, struggling with the buttons of his shirt, his voice muffled when he gets too impatient and tries to rip it over his head instead. “I stand by it Stevie, cross my fucking heart, I’m the most charming motherfucker in Brooklyn. Wait’ll you hear the deal she gave me, god damn.”

He finally gets the shirt over his head, leaving his dark hair sticking in every direction. “Lemme have a quick wash and we’ll go.”

Giving Steve a roguish wink, he rushes off, dirty clothes flying as he strips.

Steve rolls his eyes. He opens the packet and two yellow roses drop to the floor.

---

“So why yellow roses?” Natasha questions. She’s still eating his beef jerky.

Bucky goes back to his list. “One, roses are my favourite. And two, I always get him yellow. Used to be the only colour Steve could see.”

Natasha pauses mid-chew. She opens her mouth to speak, but for the first time in a long while, she can’t find the words. It’s the most genuine thing she’s ever heard him say.

“That’s – really sweet, Barnes.”

“I know. M’fucking awesome.”

*****

THE BIG DAY (EARLY AFTERNOON) 

Steve stands in the bathroom, perusing his face. Running his hand over his beard, he makes a snap decision.

“Think I want to shave.” Steve announces, glancing at Bucky in the mirror. “Might be nice. Fresh start or whatever.”

Bucky’s lounging against the bathroom door. He’s been wandering around the compound all day in those electric blue boxers, shouting directions at everyone, and for some unknown reason, he’s now paired them with his black combat boots.

Seriously. He’s so weird sometimes.

Seriously. Steve loves him so fucking much.

Bucky sizes him up, before giving a decisive nod. “I agree. And you should let me do it.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “Not likely. I’ll end up with some shit moustache or missing half an eyebrow.”

“Like I would do that. I’m not ruining my wedding photos with your face looking stupid.”

Steve’s lips twitch.

“Fine. Give me a shave.”

Bucky’s delighted. He stomps back into the bedroom and grabs the desk chair, dragging it into their cavernous bathroom. Situating it in front of the mirror, he pushes Steve down and drapes a towel over his shoulders. Fumbling under the sink, he knocks over every bottle he sees, until he finds the half-empty can of shaving cream stashed at the back. He flips the lid off and throws it across the room, aiming for the trashcan. Missing completely.

“Nice one.” Steve comments.

“Shut your pie-hole.” Bucky replies.

Giving the can an aggressive couple shakes, Bucky sprays every last bit of cream into his hands and pauses, peering at Steve with a look of intense concentration. Then his face clears and he slaps his hands onto Steve’s cheeks, smearing the white fluff all over his face and neck.

Steve belatedly realises this may have been a mistake.

When he’s finally satisfied the shaving cream is spread evenly, Bucky gives him a mocking salute. Steve’s momentarily confused when Bucky then props his boot on the chair between Steve’s knees, until he reaches down the side and pulls out his newest tactical knife. A shiny Cold Steel Recon 1.

“No.” Steve argues.

“Yes.” Bucky insists.

“Jesus.” Steve sighs.

Flipping the knife to switch his grip, Bucky climbs into Steve’s lap. He grinds his hips down, rubbing against Steve’s crotch with an exaggerated groan. Steve’s hands automatically grip his hips, locking Bucky in place, a look of resigned patience on his face.

Clasping Steve’s jaw in his fingers, Bucky tilts his head back and forth, a sculptor looking for the perfect angle. When he finds it, he turns Steve’s face to the side and leans forward, the sharp edge of the blade positioned carefully at the bottom of Steve’s sideburns.

Something about the whole thing seems familiar.

--- 

1944, France: The rain is coming down in actual sheets at this point. Bucky trudges to the entrance of the tent, his blue overcoat draped over his head. It’s completely soaked and heavy as hell.

He’s so pissed off.

Ducking under the tent flap, he shakes out his hair and glares at Steve.

“You know what? Fuck France. Fuck Hitler, fuck Hydra, fuck Phillips, fuck the god damn rain, fuck everything.”

Steve looks up from the cracked mirror in front of him, towelling away the remaining bits of soap from his newly smooth face. “So, honey, how was your day?”

Bucky grunts. “Fucking terrible. I’m so ready to go home.”

“You look like shit. If you sit, I’ll give you a shave.”

“I’m out of razors, got nothing until the next mail delivery.” Bucky sighs heavily, flinging himself onto Steve’s cot, disappointment roiling through his gut. His face itches like hell.

“Use a knife. Works just as well.”

Bucky sits up and wonders why he hasn’t thought of this. “Well fuck me sideways Stevie. Still some brains left in that thick skull after all.”

Steve snatches up the bowl of soapy water and plunks it at their feet, splashing Bucky’s mud-covered boots. He grabs the remainder of his soap, and scrubs his hands together, getting a good lather.

Standing above Bucky, he tilts his head and looks down, a devilish little smirk curling up his lips.

Bucky looks up warily. “I’m going to regret that last comment, aren’t I.” he states flatly.  

“Possibly,” Steve mumbles. He sinks down onto Bucky’s lap, straddles his thighs. Pats soap on his face. Grinds himself against Bucky with a breathless little whine.

“Aw hell.” Bucky whispers hoarsely, his hands reaching up to grip Steve’s ass tightly. “You’re such a little tease, Rogers.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. Yes, you really fucking are.”

---

A great idea pops into Bucky’s head.

Steve spots the sudden gleam in his eyes, and grunts. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I’m serious Buck.”

The gleam is replaced by a look of pure innocence, which is to say, a look that spells absolute trouble.

“Put your hands behind the chair Stevie.”

“Yeah, no. Not happening.”

Bucky presses the knife a little closer, the blade biting into Steve’s skin. “If you don’t, I swear to god I’ll shave a bald strip straight through your hair.”

“Well, then I guess our wedding photos will look pretty stupid, and that’ll be on your head.”

Bucky tries another route. His husky, wheedling voice usually works.

“Please baby? I just want to try something.”

Success.

“I hate you.” Steve mutters. Folding his arms behind the chair, he links his fingers together and looks at Bucky with a martyred expression.

Bucky taps his metal fingers against Steve’s bare chest, marvelling at the splotchy pink flush that’s creeping across Steve’s torso. Keeping his knife balanced on Steve’s cheek, he stands, still straddling the chair, while his hand drifts down to the waistband of Steve’s sweatpants. He slips the tips of his fingers under the fabric. Nudges Steve to lift his ass so he can tug them down.

Bucky grins.

Steve huffs.

Bucky slides his hand down.

Steve clenches his teeth, trying to stay still.

Bucky wraps cool fingers tight around the base of Steve’s cock and gives a good squeeze.

“Jesus Christ Bucky,” Steve hisses.

Fun fact. Bucky’s been ambidextrous his entire life. It’s one of the reasons he’s so good in combat, can switch hands in a knife fight, can shoot from any angle. His brain can always disconnect the movements, allowing him to use each arm independently and equally.

Right now, he wants to use one exceptionally slow. And the other, well, maybe less slow.

Bucky carefully scrapes the first path down Steve’s cheek with his knife, cleanly removing a line of gold bristles. He hums ‘Here Comes the Bride’ as he wipes the dirty blade on the towel.

His other hand grips Steve’s cock, pumping him with lazy strokes.

Steve groans quietly.

Another deliberate, scratchy slice down Steve’s jawline. Metal fingers move faster, his wrist giving a little twist at the upturn of every stroke.

Steve groans louder.

He balances the knife on Steve’s upper lip, noticing the sweat beading Steve’s forehead. He leans forward and licks it away. Drags his knife down. Jerks Steve’s dick faster.

Steve starts swearing.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Bucky murmurs. Steve says nothing, just gives him a soft grunt.

That won’t do.

Bucky stops moving and nicks Steve’s skin with the blade when he doesn’t respond. “Answer me.”

“Gah! Yes, yes it feels good. Really fucking good.” Steve rasps, closing his eyes. 

“Okay then.” Bucky’s mollified. He repositions his knife on the other side of Steve’s face.

Steve catches his bottom lip between his teeth, harsh pants in his throat when Bucky’s hand starts stroking him again, while the blade moves leisurely over his cheek, over his throat. He feels warm breath on his face and opens his eyes to find Bucky nose to nose with him, a sly smile on his face.

“You gonna come for me?” Bucky growls low, lips brushing lightly against Steve’s. He twists his wrist again, rubs his thumb over the tip of Steve’s cock one more time, and it’s that signature move that drops Steve over the edge. He comes hard, hands still linked behind the chair, hips bucking while he fucks himself frantically up into Bucky’s hand.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, that’s – fuck.” Steve chokes.

“Tell me about it.” Bucky says smugly.

Bucky keeps up the gentle, leisurely strokes while Steve catches his breath. His blade makes a few final swipes across Steve’s face, cleaning up the remaining shaving cream.

He tosses the knife carelessly over his shoulder, where it clatters in the sink. He sits back in Steve’s lap, assesses his work. Gives himself a verbal pat on the back.

“Damn I’m good. At shaving and hand jobs. I could make a career out of it.”

Steve gives him his annoyed Captain face. Bucky likes that look. It’s hot.

“Can you shut up and get me a towel, I have cum in my fucking hair.”

“Just leave it there.”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to wear white Steve, it’s our wedding.”

“Oh my god.”

*****

20 MINUTES BEFORE THE BIG MOMENT

Bucky barrels into the room, just as Steve’s fixing the knot on his tie.

He skids to a stop, and they turn inspect each other, a matching pair of shit-eating grins lighting up both faces. 

Bucky’s dressed head to toe in black, a dark blue dress shirt his only concession to colour. Steve’s a mirror opposite, dressed in navy blue, a black shirt completing the look.

“You realise we’re not supposed to see each other before the ceremony.” Steve reminds. “It’s bad luck.”

Bucky snorts. “We’ve fulfilled a lifetime quota of bad luck, Fate can kiss my fucking ass at this point. Besides, I got something for you.”

He produces a small parchment bag, and cracks it open, pulling out two bright yellow roses.

For the first time all day, Bucky’s voice softens, all hints of snark and sarcasm vanishing.

“Not sure if you’ll remember this, fucking surprised I remember, but, uh, yellow roses are kind of our thing.”

The bashful nervousness on Bucky’s face promptly melts Steve’s heart.

“Buck. Yeah, ‘course I remember.”

They’re quiet for a moment, contemplating the decades of misery and horror and death they’ve waded through, to get here today.

Worth it, Bucky thinks fiercely. Completely worth it.

He quickly pins a flower on his jacket, and moves closer to Steve with the other.

“Anyway, so I’m telling the florist all about us, and she mentioned something.” He pushes the straight pin through the thick fabric, hooking the rose onto Steve’s lapel. “She told me yellow roses have a meaning. You know what it is?”

Steve shakes his head. Partly because he likes to hear Bucky tell a story. Mostly because there’s a lump in his throat and he can’t speak.

“Yellow roses, they mean new beginnings. Chance to forget the past, get a fresh start.”

He gives the flower a final adjustment, stands back to admire. Lifts an eyebrow at Steve.

Steve nods slowly. Curls his hand behind Bucky’s neck and pulls him close. “Sounds good to me.”

*****

THE BIG MOMENT 

The enormous canopy resembles a clean white circus tent, sitting at the edge of the compound’s property. Like the master tactician he is, Bucky had paced out the measurements eleven different times, picturing every minute detail of every possible scenario, before he settled on this configuration. 

About fucking time all those years of intricate ops planning came in useful.

Guests are filing in, the chatter of familiar voices rising and falling. They kept the invitee list small. Bucky might have invited the entire population of New York City if Steve had let him (he wants everyone to witness the best god damn day of his life), but Steve was hoping for something more intimate.

“Okay. After all Steve,” Bucky told him graciously. “It’s your day too.”

They also agreed on a small wedding party. Three friendly faces standing up with them. Sam and Nat were a given. The third was somewhat of a surprise.

--- 

Tony strolls into the kitchen while Bucky’s making another list and Steve’s making another coffee. 

“Boys. Who’s officiating your wedding?”

“Well – “

“No problem, glad you asked, I’m happy to do it. In fact, here’s my new officiant’s license. I was ordained through Google at 10:43 this morning.”

Steve glances to Bucky, who looks up from his list. He scrutinises Tony for a minute and shrugs.

“Works for me. Long as you don’t fuck up my special day, I don’t give a shit.”

Tony claps his hands together. “Excellent, there’s the tearful appreciation I was hoping for.”

---

Steve stands at the front of the aisle, hands jammed in his pockets. Sam and Tony are flanking him, trading amused glances as Steve fidgets nervously.

Just like Bucky requested, there’s a four-piece string quartet set-up behind them, the violin and cello a soothing sound on his nerves. Until Steve’s realises they’re playing a medley of Britney Spears and Led Zeppelin.

Which, okay, it makes sense. Bucky’s two favourite artists.

Literally, Bucky Barnes is so fucking weird.

Literally, Steve Rogers is so fucking in love with him.

There’s a change in tune and the crowd turns to stand.

At the far end of the aisle, Bucky steps up with Natasha at his side.

After an internal debate with himself, Bucky asked her to escort him down the aisle. Said he was afraid if she went first, no one would pay attention to him, and since it was his big day, that would really piss him off. In reality, he had a minor panic attack at the thought of walking by himself. Not that Nat needs to know.

Although, she probably definitely knows. After all, it’s Natasha.

Bucky meets Steve’s eyes, and for a moment he forgets to breathe.

People say a lot of shit about weddings. About how you’re going to feel when you see your person at the other end of the aisle, about how it feels like there’s no one else in the world except the two of you. How everything around you goes quiet.

Steve always scoffed. “Dumb.”

Bucky scoffed louder. “Lame.”

Both realise in this instant, how utterly wrong they were. It’s actually true. Time stops. The world fades away. You really do only see each other.

Natasha urges Bucky forward, and Steve’s ears prick at the song the violins are now playing. Bucky decided to go with ‘Sexy Back’ as his entrance song.

Of course he did.

It’s a lifetime until they reach the front of the aisle, but they finally arrive.

Natasha releases Bucky’s arm, flashing a fond smile as she considers them. Satisfied with what she finds, she gives them both a gentle slap on the ass, and takes her place behind Bucky.

Steve gives Tony a nod to begin, then turns every ounce of his attention to the man in front of him.

“Dearly beloved, and some who are less than beloved but you were invited anyway, we’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of two very old souls. And yes ladies and gentleman, there will be several old man jokes through the night, because hey, you’ve all met me. So, Steve Rogers and James Barnes. Two guys who have – who have literally walked through hell on earth, just to find each other. If you’ll forgive my sickeningly sappy sentiment for a moment please, let me just say – love is rare. When you find it, if you find it, hold on tight. If you’re lucky, you might end up with something even half as great as what Cap and Barnes have.”

Tony Stark, a fool for love. He’ll never live this down.

“Anyway. Let’s cut to the chase. They want to say some things to each other. Barnes, you’re up.”

For all his bravado, Bucky suddenly feels like his mouth is full of sand. But then Steve gives him a wink, and the anxiety disappears.

Bucky clears his throat.

“Stevie. I’ve spent too many years lost in my own head. Stuck behind the glass, terrified and screaming, with – with no one to hear me. I thought I’d be trapped in there forever, but then you showed up, kicking down every door to get me out. Nothing’s ever come easy for us, Fate’s kicked us both in the balls over and over, but here’s the thing. If I had to go through everything again, for even the slightest chance I could end up here today with you, I’d walk straight into the fire with a smile on my face. Don’t have to be scared anymore, I know you’ll always bring me back. ‘Cause you – you’re the only god damn thing I’ve ever been sure of.

Bucky’s practised in front of his mirror every night for months. On one hand, he’s annoyed with himself for choking up at the end. On the other, he’s pretty proud of the way Steve’s face has gone all scrunchy. He chalks it up as a win.

Steve clears his throat.

“Buck, I’ve spent damn near all my life chasing you. Trying to keep up when we were kids, following you into the war. Running across the globe to get you back once I found you again. My whole life, it’s been pivoting around this one single thing, this – this anchor. And that’s you. I’ve loved you since we were kids, and I’ve been in love with you, hopelessly, madly, and completely, since before I even knew what it meant. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth Bucky, into hell and back, if it means I get to wake up beside you every morning, and fall asleep with you every night. I’ll love you a million different ways, as long as you’ll let me. Now until forever.

Steve knows there’s an endless supply of sarcasm, lewd innuendos, and dirty jokes Bucky has stored up over the years, ready to fire at him in a moment’s notice. But with these words, he’s finally turned Buck speechless. And it’s pretty fucking awesome.

“Rings and vows?” And yes, Tony might kick his own ass later, when he thinks back to the pathetically high-pitched register of his voice in this moment.

Steve reaches behind, feels Sam slip the ring into his hand. He picks up Bucky’s right hand, takes a deep breath.

“I, Steven Grant Rogers, take you, James Buchanan Barnes, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to love, through good times and bad times, and everything in-between. I promise to stay at your side, to stand with you and for you, from now until death should part us.”

Bucky blinks rapidly as he looks back at Steve, trying to keep the tears away. He reaches blindly behind him, feels Natasha drop Steve’s ring in his hand.

He grips Steve’s right hand, gazing at his fingers for a moment. Before the wedding, they had agreed since Bucky would use his right hand for the ring, Steve would do the same. To everyone else, it’s a small thing.

To Bucky, the gesture is priceless. He looks up into Steve’s sky blue eyes.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, take you, Steven Grant Rogers, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to love, through good times and bad times, and everything in-between. I promise to stay at your side, to stand with you and for you, from now until death should part us.”

Bucky slides the ring on. He turns Steve’s hand over and presses a kiss into his palm.

Christ, there’s not a dry eye in the fucking house, Tony thinks contemptuously. As he furtively dries his eyes. He nearly shouts the final words in a rush, praying to get them out before his voice cracks.

“By the power vested in me by the state of New York and the official paperwork I got off the internet saying I’m legal to perform this ceremony, I now pronounce you married.” Here Tony pauses for a breath, glances between them. “Okay boys, you’re good. Go on and make out.”

They stare at each other, savouring the moment. Steve and Bucky. Bucky and Steve. It’s one hell of a love story.

Like magnets, they come together, and because Steve knows Bucky’s a sucker for overly dramatic displays of affection, he goes in for the kill, spinning him sideways and dipping him back.

Clapping and wolf-whistles surround them. Friends laughing as the kiss goes on and on.

They finally break apart, foreheads still touching to catch those last words, the ones spoken for each other’s ears alone.

“We still doing that whole end of the line thing?”

“Nah, not long enough. Till the end of time, Buck.”

 *****

(For anyone wondering, much to his chagrin, Steve did in fact dance to the YMCA at his wedding. Phil Coulson has 43 high-res photos to prove it.)

*****

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @stentorian-lore-n @4theluvofall @eve1978 @ihavemymomentsstill @psingh97 @badassbaker @justreadingfics @palaiasaurus64 @mrshopkirk @lovelynemesis @whiskeyandwashitape @interestedbystanderwrites @psychicwitchphilosopher @hellomissmabel @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

My gf doesn't remember the last time she's been to the dentist and i (f) confronted her about it, saying i don't to risk anything. Now shes upset at me but she understands why im concerned. I went to other people online (These people definitely were not professional but most my irl friends are also her friends and i don't want them to tell her about it and worry her even more)

WELL, speaking as an unprofessional asshole who just needed a root canal because I haven't had the money to afford the dentist in like four years, THIS QUESTION IS KINDA RELEVANT TO MY CURRENT LIFE CIRCUMSTANCE.

Anyway, I think an the biggest thing to take away from this situation is WHY does your girlfriend not go to the dentist, or why has she not seen the dentist? As I've just said for myself, the reason I didn't go to the dentist in a long time is I literally couldn't. My finances don't afford that luxury, and I got booted off of insurance because I literally couldn't afford it and Trump decided to let Obamacare writhe into death (MAGA, my dudes). Becoming destitute is a pretty good reason not to do something; it's not ideal, but hopefully you see why I wouldn't go personally. Only when my situation became dire (my tooth dies forever) did I finally need to visit the dentist, and so I did. It's not great for my finances, but hey, better than losing my tooth or being in pain.

What is HER reason for not going? Is she also struggling with money? Is she uninsured, or under-insured, so she's worried about the cost? This is a fair reason, and unless you're going to pay her to visit the dentist (I don't think you should do that), then you can't really hope to change her mind some. Beyond trying to ask her to save up some money to visit the dentist, you don't have a lot of leeway here.

Is she scared of the dentist? Dental fear is a valid problem for a lot of people, and it is sometimes completely out of the person's control for why hey have that fear or anxiety to visit the dentist. If this is the case, the best options here are reminding them the health needs related to the dentist, helping them find a dentist that would suit them that you both can trust, and perhaps even asking them to seek out a therapist to see if there are any underlying reasons why this fear or anxiety is manifesting in your partner.

Is she just stubborn or anti-medicine about the whole affair? Does she have the whole, "MY TEETH ARE FINE, SO I DON'T EVEN GOTTA WORRY ABOUT THEM" attitude? That's a fine opinion to have, of course, but it's not based in reality, and thus not a good argument for her to hold. Part of the harsh reality is you might not really be able to change her mind if your partner is really dug in on this issue. If she just really doesn't want to visit the dentist, then not much you can say will probably convince her. All that means is that eventually she's going to get hit with a really severe issue one day (like me), and she's going to have to suffer a lot, and deal with a lot of problems. If she is not the type that is easily convinced, then sadly, you may just have to wait for this mistake to manifest itself.

Okay, but what CAN you do in this situation? One thing is making sure at very least she's maintaining good dental hygiene. Basically, you're playing dentist for her. You may not be a professional, and your advice is not gospel. But let's be real, if she at least does what you say, and follows good general advice, it would prevent any horrific problems from being life-alteringly terrible. AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS! IT'S TIME FOR A CRASH COURSE IN DENTISTRY, FROM YOUR UNFRIENDLY RELATIONSHIP ADVICE DUDE ON THE INTERNET WHO IS NOT A DENTIST AND SHOULD NOT BE TRUSTED AT ALL BECAUSE HE JUST GOT A ROOT CANAL BUT HEY IT'S THE ONLY PROBLEM HE'S HAD IN SIX YEARS SO HE MUST BEING DOING SOMETHING RIGHT.

BRUSH YA FUCKIN' TEETH ASSHOLE. Hey, wowie, I bet you didn't know this, but brushing your teeth removes gross shit off them, meaning that gross shit doesn't rot your fucking teeth like some fuckin' monster. Don't be an idiot and brush your teeth. At least once per day is basically mandatory. Twice a day is better than 90% of the population. And if you brush your teeth after every meal, you're basically a god.

FLOSS. Yeah, I know, who the fuck flosses. I certainly don't. But that's because I'm an idiot. Don't be me and get a root canal: FLOSS. Regardless of what your toothbrush or toothpaste commercial on tv says, toothbrushes can't reach between your teeth. Flossing at least once a day (again, bonus points for twice a day) clears out all the gunk in hard to reach places between your teeth. This is the high risk stuff, because since it never gets cleaned out, it can build up over time. If it builds up, it makes your teeth icky and gross. But if it builds up a LONG TIME, it turns into plaque, which is basically the same icky stuff but turned into cement on your teeth, meaning only a dentist can get it off with proper tools. We're trying to avoid that, so FLOSS.

BRUSH CORRECTLY. Yes, there is a right way to brush your teeth. Take your brush, start at the bottom of your teeth (near the gums), and brush upward, then downward, then up again. Do this for all the teeth, the whole way into the back of your mouth. Then, do the inside of your teeth in the same fashion. Finish off by brushing your tongue if you're feeling really saucy. Dentists say brushing for two full minutes is ideal. So put on your favourite song and just jam out while brushing your teeth; when the song ends, you're done!

WATCH YOUR BRUSH. Toothbrushes are a dime a dozen, and I'm sure someone smarter than me can tell you what the perfect toothbrush is. But as we already said, as long as you're brushing your teeth consistently, the tools don't matter as much. That being said, make sure your brush is right for YOU. Ideally it needs to be the right texture - some like it soft and some like it more brittle. It also should be new-ish. If you look at your  brush, and you see the majority of the bristles getting all frayed, then it's time to invest $2 into a new brush. Electric toothbrushes are fancy, but a normal toothbrush will do you just fine.

BE CAREFUL OF SUGAR. The big concern with tooth decay, which is the real nasty problem you'll have at a dentist, is sugar in your diet. Sugar is in a LOT of things, but that sugar gets in your mouth, and on your teeth, and bacteria that cause decay LOVE the stuff. Consider not drinking as many sodas, or eating as many sweets; the more sugar you cut out of your diet, the less likely it'll be in your mouth, and the less likely you'll have decay. If that's not really an option for you, instead focus on keeping your mouth as clean as possible. If you drink a soda, drink some water alongside it, to make sure you're washing away excess sugar.

KEEP AN EYE ON SENSITIVE TEETH. Some people have sensitive teeth, ones that respond to heat and cold. Some people also have sensitive teeth in general, where even brushing them can be a little painful or irritating. The culprits we're looking for are teeth at are sensitive particularly to heat or cold. Sometimes teeth are just sensitive, and this is totally normal. But sensitivity to heat or cold can also be a sign of a cavity. If you notice that one tooth is bothering you consistently when you have a nice cold drink or nice yummy food, KEEP AN EYE ON IT.

PAIN IS BAD. Wowie, bet you didn't know that suffering isn't fun. But real talk, if your teeth hurt, you don't have an option. You need to go to the dentist if your tooth hurts. Any pain in your mouth is bad, and the sooner it's addressed, the better. No excuses at that point.

THAT’S THAT! Also, there are a fuck-ton of anime teeth brushing gifs, so Don’t mind me while I link some others I didn’t have room to use. 

[maxthommusic]

Metric Coffee Nostalgia

My stomach's a little funny this morning. Probably the super spicy dry hot pot we ordered from Shang Noodle in Evanston last night. I had to make a pit-stop at the Southport Brown Line station on my way to work and figured I'd grab a coffee at Foxtrot. Maybe a snack, or two, while I'm there. It doesn't help that my vegan breakfast of plain yogurt, berries, and toast often doesn't soak up my morning glass of water appropriately. I'm not used to commuting downtown, to say the least.

In any case, all that's to share I got my Foxtrot coffee which is brewed with Metric beans. Gotta say, for all the weak cups of coffee I've had in Chicago, this great brew has me feeling more optimistic about today than I was the past few days. In fact, I've been pretty anxious since about last Thursday when something at work went south. If I'm feeling extra frustrated about the things around me it's because I need a good win right now and this coffee is doing just that, tbh.

It's giving me excellent coffee-breath, too. You know, the kind where you desperately need a stick of gum afterwards or a travel electric toothbrush handy. Really it's making me nostalgic, the most. It reminds me of my bass teacher, Jason, from Modern Music in Lisle. His small room always smelled like stale coffee. I can't remember a single time he didn't have a cup ready to go before our lesson. But from ages 13-18, that man showed me a wide gamut of music genres which paved the way for a lifetime of musical appreciation.

You see, I was such a musical elitist in high school that I really missed out on a lot of great things I wouldn't come to love until my adult years. Pop music. Dad rock. Heavy metal. Plenty of genres I just couldn't open my mind to because I was too busy listening to indie acts like Broken Social Scene, Feist, Alexisonfire, The Pillows, Badly Drawn Boy -- anything you probably hadn't really heard of at the time. But all that self-perceived "credit" is BS. Like what you like. Don't care about what others are digging. In fact, a girl I dated in high school (honestly, can we even call it dating in hs?) was into amazing music and she tried to introduce me to the world of glam rock and this underground 80s punk scene, but I was too stupid to realize how interesting it all was. To think I could have been enjoying "Let's Dance" nearly 15 years ago instead of just discovering it's brilliance in my late 20s. Her taste was basically the "Lost In Translation" soundtrack but edgier. And I was so closed off that I legit loved the "Lost" OST from day-one (to this day it's still incredibly evocative, imo) yet couldn't wrap my head around her aesthetic. And it was people like her. People like Jason. People like my father. Who were all trying their best to share their creative inspirations that eventually would lead to me having a great wealth of musical knowledge to fall back on when I was ready.

Those bass lessons were a god-send. While in the moment I didn't take them very seriously -- I'm sure Jason did not look forward to our sessions because I barely put in any effort. (Story of my life in high school.) But the lessons have since resonated years later. The musical culturation that took place gave me a foundation to genre-hop and explore at my will -- both for pleasure and in my creative endeavors. Sure, I still can't really get down with Lil Nas X or Slipknot, but I don't hate. I get how others can enjoy. I get their place in the world. I may look down on certain modern trends, but only because I pine for a different kind of sound to be mainstream. I wish others basked in the same glory I feel when I hear "Sussudio" by Phil Collins. We all got our thing.

But in any case, as the Internet becomes a giant toxic dumpster truck (as I wrote about at length last time), I just want to spread a word of compassion. Just remember people have a vast array from which they can choose to enjoy things and life's journey is long and winding. Maybe today you can't stand David Bowie. But maybe in 10 years you'll be like, "Man, I first heard 'Queen Bitch' at a party and had no clue it was so good." And you'll remember those moments fondly as long as you're open to them. The cool things we're introduced to don't always resonate when they pop up. Don't fret not joining the club sooner either. You're an interesting, engaged human being. You've got your current trends. You'll have even more later. Just don't forget it's not always about you. It's not always about me. It's about everyone enjoying things together. Life's a cornucopia. Break that baby, open.

[pinknerdpanda]

The Grinch

Word Count: 2360 (including lyrics - italicized below) Characters: Sam x reader, Dean Warnings: canon-level violence/gore Requested by: @roxyspearing

A/N: This is a full blown fic and I’m not sorry about it. I had this idea before I got Roxy’s request and so I was glad to get to write it. I hope you don’t mind I veered slightly. This was written for my Merry Manda’s Panda Presents celebration. Beta’d by @hannahindie & @wheresthekillswitch

Merry Manda’s Christmas Masterlist

x

The Grinch

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh come on. Don’t be such a drama queen,” I smirked up at Dean Winchester to find his face tinged a shade of green that manages to clash with his eyes. He clamps a hand over his mouth and turns away. I look back at Sam, his eyes sparkling in the morning sun as he forces down a grin. The local badge tends to get suspicious when they see a federal agent with a smile on their face.

He clears his throat. “Ok, so, fifth body in three days. All with their hearts ripped clean out of their chests.”

I prod at a pulpy red glob of heart meat with the end of my pencil.”I don’t know if ‘clean’ is the word I would use.” I scowl and lower my voice. “So what are we thinking, werewolf?”

Sam cocks his head to the side, his hair falling over the shoulder of his navy suit. His gaze roams over the bloodied remains of vic number five. He shakes his head. “I dunno. Maybe not. Werewolves usually eat the heart. Not leave it in pieces all over the ground.” He places his hands on his knees, pushing to a stand as he glances around.

A small crowd has begun to gather in the few hours since the body was discovered by a runner in the early morning light. A bewildered and exhausted looking deputy is trying to keep the onlookers from disturbing the crime scene. Dean strides across the clearing, one hand in the pocket of his suit pants and the other rubbing anxiously at his jaw.

“Talked to Paul Blart over there, and the coroner’s report came back just as they got the call for…” he gestures vaguely at the ground without looking at it. “Anyway, turns out that they were able to piece back about 87% of victim number one’s heart and the thing was three times the size of a normal human heart. What does that?”

Sam sighs and pushes a hand absently through his hair. It’s distracting as hell, but I do my best to keep my mind on the task. “I don’t know, man. I can check the lore, maybe call around and see if anyone has any ideas. One of you two should go talk to the family and maybe the other can scope out the home? See if anything seems a little off?”

I nod and look at Dean. “I’ll take interviews and you do the snooping?”

“Sounds good to me. We’ll regroup back at the motel?”

Everyone agrees and we head in the direction of our assumed tasks.

Three hours later

“Seriously, Dean, can you turn that down, please?” Sam’s voice is muffled as I approach the door of the motel. Of course Dean made it back before I did. I really shouldn’t have given him the easy job, but I felt bad for the guy.

“Honey, I’m home,” I drone, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Sam is bowed over three open books and a tablet, with his fingers jammed into his ears trying to concentrate. Dean is sprawled across one of the beds behind Sam, shoes and jacket off and his tie loose around his neck. He’d folded his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and his hands are folded across his stomach. The sound of the television all but drowning out his light snores. I toss my purse on the seat across from Sam, startling him. “Sorry, Sam.” I shrug out of my jacket and step out of my fed shoes.

“It’s fine,” his lips are pressed together, forming a perfectly shaped frown as he glances up at me.

The music from the TV is familiar and I start humming along.

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch, You have termites in your smile, You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch, Given a choice between the two of you'd take the seasick crocodile!

The sight of Dean, fast asleep watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas twice as loud as necessary makes me chuckle. I pad over to the television and turn the volume down. Sam looks up as I move to sit in the chair beside him, relieved and grateful.

“Find anything yet?”

“No. I’ve looked through every book and database and there’s nothing. Every hunter I called is clueless.” He sighs and pushes the books back toward the middle of the table. He sits back, slumping low in the chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “How about you?”

“Well besides the fact that apparently all of them hated Christmas, no, not really. Nothing connecting any of the vics besides the MO.”

Sam frowns. “Hated Christmas?”

“Yeah, according to their friends and family they were real Scrooge McHumbugs this time of year.”

Sam stares thoughtfully at nothing, his eyes flicking back and forth.

“Talk to me, Moose. What’s goin’ on inside that head of yours?”

Sam rolls his eyes almost imperceptibly, but his dimples deceive him. “Well, it’s just,” he starts and stops again. “Dean found one of these buried in shopping bags at the three of the vic’s houses and two of their cars.” Sam passes over a crumpled fast food bag, a large greasy spot taking over one of its sides.

I give Sam an incredulous look before opening it. Inside, five round Christmas ornaments lay nestled in the bottom of the bag, each one red with intricate gold detailing. I remove one, holding it carefully in the palm of my hand. Sam continues.

“If they all hated Christmas so much, why were they hiding these?”

I tilt my head from one side and then the other, looking at it from all sides. I don’t know what makes me do it, but after a few long seconds, I pick it up and shake it tentatively. At first there’s no sound of anything inside, but I shake it once more, this time closer to my ear. There’s the faintest hint of something moving around inside.

I stand abruptly, and, slipping on my Fed shoes again, fling the door open and step outside, silently. As Sam follows me out the door, I toss the ornament on the pavement. It shatters immediately and Sam starts to protest, but his words are cut off as we both see the small leather pouch now covered in shards of glass.

I kneel down, pick it up and unwrap it. “Looks like a peppermint, a piece of tinsel, a leaf of some sort and a tooth?” I hold my palm out, letting Sam examine the contents.

“I think...is that…?” He plucks the leaf from my palm, taking a cursory sniff. “It is. It’s mistletoe. What the hell?”

“It looks like a very festive hexbag,” I offer, surprised when Sam’s eyes widen, the gears all clicking into place.

“It’s a witch.”

-----

“I friggin’ hate these places,” I moan, desperately trying to dig in my heels as Sam ushers me across the parking lot.

“You were the one who insisted we play rock paper scissors to decide who plays decoy,” Sam’s voice is low.

“Right!” I snarl, whirling around to face him.  “This is because I didn’t catch the fact that they all had the same dentist. I said I was sorry.”

He smiles, placing his hands on my shoulders and giving me one of those looks that makes my insides feel like they are trying to become my outsides. “You know that’s not it. I wouldn’t have thought to check that.” He’s lying through his gorgeously perfect teeth, but I appreciate the effort. “This is the only other thing connecting the five victims. You can do this. I’ll be in the waiting room, Dean is pulled around back. We just have to play spot the witch and we can gank it and be done. Okay?”

I sigh and nod, allowing him to turn me around. For good measure, I clutch at my jaw and moan softly in pain as Sam throws open the door and we step inside. The waiting area is small and sterile with a few neat chairs lining one wall. In one corner stands an exquisitely decorated Christmas tree, each branch almost shimmering in the glow of the Christmas lights.  A woman with a square face and large, coke bottle glasses peeks up from behind the reception desk.

“How may I help you?”

“Hi, I called earlier,” Sam lays on the charm. “My girlfriend thinks she’s broken a tooth. We have an appointment for Luwho. Cindy Luwho.”

She clicks and taps for a few seconds. “Ah, yes I see. We have some paperwork to complete…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Sam interrupts. She looks put off by his insistence, so he smiles extra broadly at her. “I just hate watching my girl suffer, so if I can get her back to see the doc pretty quickly, that would be great.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m settled as comfortably as possible in the awkward half sitting, half lying down chair when the door behinds me creaks open. A petite, but handsome man comes into view. His smile is whiter than the snow I keep waiting to fall and there’s a faint tinkling of bells that I can only assume is coming from the brightly colored festive Christmas sweater covering his narrow chest.

“Hello, I’m Ted,” his voice is warm and friendly and reminds me faintly of music. “I’m gonna get your pearly whites all shiny and ready for the doc to come in and have a look!”

I force a smile and lie back, allowing him to poke and prod to his little festive heart’s desire.

“Are you all ready for Christmas?” His eyes glitter with excitement as he presses the electric toothbrush to a molar. I shrug and his face darkens faintly. “Oh come now, don’t tell me you’re a big ol’ fun hater!” He frowns in a mocking way and I resist the urge to punch him in his perfectly straight nose. I try to respond, forgetting for a second that Ted’s gloved hands are nearly wrist deep in my mouth. I end up sounding vaguely of a wookie.

“Well, Christmas is just my favorite. All the jingle bells and Christmas cheer?” His smile is back and has a leering quality to it. He sets down the toothbrush and begins rinsing my mouth and sucking the extra liquid with an uncomfortable squelching sound from the sucker tube.  “It’s just to die for!”

A knock on the door halts my response. A beautiful, young female in a pair of blue scrubs sweeps in, smiling. Ted stands, bumping me in the head with a hip as he moves to the door.

“Hello, Cindy. I am Doctor Suze. Let’s have a look at those chompers, shall we?”

I cringe as she places the metal instruments in my mouth. Examining every nook and cranny, she checks each tooth silently, she sits back, her eyebrows creased in consideration of the facts presented to her.

“Everything looks good, Cindy. I don’t see any kind of breakage. You may have just bitten down wrong. If it keeps hurting you can come back in a week.” The door creaks open again just as she moves to stand. “I’ll make sure Ted here gets your goodies. It’s pretty standard, a toothbrush, some toothpaste, mouthwash. Oh and, Mr. Merry Christmas himself has made a slew of handmade ornaments to give to all the patients!” She smiles brightly just before she disappears from view.

I stand abruptly as Ted’s face comes into view, his smile a little too merry for my liking.

“Actually, you know what, Ted? I think I’m good, I’ll just be on my way…” I push past him and practically run out the door. Before I can make it three steps into the hallway, a hand grips tightly onto my hair, yanking me backwards.

“You think I don’t know why you’re here?” Ted’s toothy grin is unsettling as he shoves me back in the room, slamming the door closed. “I can spot a hunter a mile away.”

I scream as loud as my lungs will allow and he slaps a hand over my mouth. I jerk my elbow back, aiming for the spot just under his ribs and kick behind me, hard, landing the heel of my boot squarely on his kneecap.

He cries out in pain, releasing his grip and crumpling to the floor. I pull my gun from where it’s holstered under my left arm. He sneers and chokes out a laugh between anguished moans.

“Oh honey. You think that’s gonna work on me?”

“I mean, it’s worked on every other witch I’ve killed,” I shrug. “Witch killing bullets and all. So what’s the deal. Why are you killing these people?”

He hesitates, and I can see him weighing his options. Finally, he sighs. “I miss the good old days, ya know? It used to be, people looked forward all year to Christmas. There was a magic to it. And now, it’s like the magic is gone. I mean the commercialism is bad enough, but so many people just hate Christmas. It makes me sick. Santa always said the times were changing, but I never listened.”

“Santa?” I scoff. “Like ho, ho, ho. Big fat man in a suit…”

“You hold your tongue. People like you don’t deserve to have his name in your mouth. You can’t imagine the turmoil he’s experienced all these years. The number of people who believe are at an all time low, and that’s why elves like me are getting laid off, left and right.”

“Wait, so you expect me to believe that, not only is Santa real, you used to work for him as an elf? And what? You get laid off and take up a new hobby? Witchcraft.” I can’t help but laugh. The whole things sounds so absurd. This must be how people feel when Sam gives them his “monsters are real” spiel.

He senses the distraction and raises a hand. However, I’m quicker and I plant two shots in his chest.

“Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags - Stay weird. I love y’all: @wheresthekillswitch @pretty-fortune @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @deansdirtyduchess @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67  @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @almusanzug @feelmyroarrrr @captainradicalpassion @bethbabybaby @thinkwritexpress-official @akshi8278 @hexparker @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m  @easelweasel @masksandtruths @ellen-reincarnated1967 @growningupgeek @there-must-be-a-lock @sylverminx @mrswhozeewhatsis @amanda-teaches @cassieraider @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @its-my-perky-nipples @squirrel-moose-winchester @carryonmyswansong @sandlee44

Christmas Drabbles Tags: @sillesworldofwriting

[yesimgoingtopeacecorps]

The Guinean Peace Corps Guide to Packing

This list obviously isn’t perfect, but I’m sure if you’ve stumbled onto this blog post you’re looking for a good Peace Corps packing list, especially if you’ve just been accepted to Guinea and you’re getting ready to leave. I’m currently in my 6th month of living in Guinea and I’ve received a few things from home along the way.

Just as a reminder, you’re technically only allowed two large suitcases, at 50lbs each for the trip. However, I knew some people who paid extra for another bag, and, looking back, I should have just done that. It would have saved me and a lot of people at home money on the expensive overseas shipping to Conakry.

Things I packed:

Clothes

a note about clothes, try to get things that are quick dry or make for an active lifestyle. You will be washing your clothes by hand and you’ll want things that are very easy to clean, don’t show dirt, and don’t hold smells. I suggest Lululemon, Athleta, Patagonia, and those kind of brands. You can find cheaper and discounted clothes online at backcountry.com and Sierra Trading Post (also a great place to find any of the camping or hiking gear listed on here). You  can also check out TJMaxx and Marshalls. Also, you’re going to get clothes made here and people are always leaving stuff “up for grabs” at the regional houses, so don’t pack too much clothes wise.

For girls, I will say, error on the side of caution when it comes to shorts, skirts, and tops. You can always cut things or have them tailored but where I live is pretty conservative and as much as I hate it, I wouldn’t be caught dead walking out of my house in a thin strap tank top.

  3 pairs of pants that youcould wear in an office setting but also wear hiking (try Athleta for these)

1 pair of hiking or durable pants that you don’t mine messing up- I use mine to garden

1 pair of black leggings

2 pairs of running/workout leggings

3 pairs of shorts (try to  make them longer/knee length)

2 pairs of compression     shorts/spandex

1 pair of jeans

5 or 6 nice shirts (at least one long sleeved one, I promise there are places that it does get cold here)

2 or 3 tank tops

5 casual t-shirts/workout shirts

2 skirts (well past the knee and flowly)

3 day dresses

1 or 2 nice dresses (but not heavy or thick, the place where you train for three months is very hot)

10 pairs of underwear (check out ExOfficio for great travel underwear)

6 sports bras

2 or 3 regular bras

2 or 3 pairs of hiking/thick socks

7 pairs of regular running socks

1 pair of Chacos or tevas (I live in these shoes)

1 pair of running shoes

Hiking boots or closed toed shoes with a very good grip (the only real tourist thing to do in Guinea is hiking and you will definitely use them. I also use mine when gardening)

1 or 2 bathing suits (these are hard to find in Guinea)

1 good durable raincoat

1 lightweight jacket

1 sweatshirt

1 sweater/cardigan

Other wearables:

A good hat

Cheap sunglasses (you can buy more here and I’ve already broken three pairs)

Two scarves

HAIR TIES

Non-valuable jewelry if you  like that sort of thing

A good backpack

A small foldable bag for market days

A purse

A small cross-body purse

 Electronics:

INSURANCE INSURANCE INSURANCE     (Clements Worldwide is the one I use. It was $150 for a year but it saved     my life when I got robbed during training and was reimbursed almost $2,000     for the stuff stolen

My Macbook

A kindle or tablet- I use     mine every day

An iPod (I also brought my     old iPod touch in the case that I got robbed… it was definitely a smart     move)

A smartphone (MAKE SURE YOU     CAN REMOVE THE SIM CARD AND PUT IN A DIFFERENT CARRIERS SIM… I had a lot     of friends have issues with that because they were tied to Sprint or     another carrier that had the phone locked)

A lifeproof or otterbox case     for the phone

A rechargeable external     battery

A solar battery charger for     phones (I recommend DragonX brand)

2 Luci Lights (look it up,     it’s a solar light)

2 headlamps

4 power adapters/converters

A surge protector- trust me,     my iPhone died my first month because there was a power surge and it fried     my phone

Multiple charging cables for     anything USB related

Three pairs of good earbud     headphones

An external hardrive (2TB)     (mine has hundreds of movies, tv shows, and workout episodes on it. I     highly recommend this)

A digital watch

  Home and Kitchen

Scrubba Wash Bag (look it up,     in my opinion it makes doing laundry here a lot easier)

Duct Tape (if you forget     everything else, remember to bring duct tape)

Electrical tape

Can opener- trust me on this     one

Garlic press

A few good kitchen knives

Thin, plastic cutting boards

Three quick dry towels

Compressable pillow (I     recommend ThermaRest brand)

An all purpose tool

Toiletries

Shampoo and conditioner     (Seriously, you will want this. I ran out of both during training and     there was no place to buy either of them where we were. You can also try     LUSH bars, solid shampoo and conditioners, expensive but worth it.)

Dr. Bronner’s All Purpose     Soap

Toothbrusth and toothpaste

Facial toner and cleaner

Face wash

Hairbrush

Lotion

Sunscreen (you are given some     but I’ve found it clogs the pores in my face)

Basic makeup: eyeliner,     mascara, lipstick, coverup, blush, and a small thing of eyeshadow.

Tweezers

Your favorite nailpolish

Headbands

Deodorant

Razors

Nail clippers

File

Alcohol wipes or a small     bottle of alcohol or hydrogen peroxide.. Peace Corps doesn’t issue this     and this has definitely saved me from infections a few times

Medical tape

For girls, Diva Cups (they will save you from using the crappy tampons medical gives us and keep you from having to buy pads, which are expensive)

Baby powder

Hairbrush

Mini bottles of travel hand sanitizer

Mouthwash

A few toothbrushes and a toothbrush top

 Other Gear

A really good pocket knife

A few pens

Colored markers or crayons

A mini stapler

Rubberbands

A portable mini safe (I use mine here and just wrap it around the table leg. I keep all my extra money, my passports, and my credit cards in there.)

A mini sewing kit

At least two Nalgene water bottles

Liquid chalk markers (are cool for writing things on your walls and for using in the classroom)

Hair cutting scissors (multiple uses and of course, for cutting your hair)

Tape measurer

Wooden clothespins

  Things I wish I brought:

My Birkenstocks or my Rainbow     flipflops

A nice travel yoga mat

A nicer pair of dressy  sandals

More packets of dried food (knorr pasta sides, etc.)

Cliff bars, energy bars, etc.

Tuna packets (you can find sardines here but tuna is almost 3 dollars a can)

Workout gear

More photos of my family and friends

A small projector (I got one brought over for me and cost me 85USD. It’s perfect for movie nights and doing presentations)

Lots of charging cables

A small and light extension cord

Small fan (you can also get decent ones here when you get ready to move to site, but not having one during training was brutal)

Essential oils (can be used to do all sorts of things, especially when it comes to repelling bugs)

A good set of twin sized bed sheets. (SHEETS ARE EXPENSIVE and the sheets here not always that comfortable. Dig up your bedsheets from freshman year of college and bring them along)

 Here’s a list of things you can totally live without, but are nice to have:

 For the Cook in You:

Rennet tablets (for cheese     making- a project I’m still learning how to prefect)

A scoby to use to start making your own kombucha

Lots and lots of spices (you can buy them here but they’re expensive)

Measuring cups and measuring spoons

A small KitchenAid type  handmixer and blender

A mini mortar and pestle

Beeswax

Cheesecloth

Small bottle of Truffle oil

Peanut butter

Lots of water flavoring or     Gatorade packets

Oatmeal packets, dried food     packets

Dried cheese powder (cheese     isn’t a thing here and you’ll miss it more than you realize)

Bottle opener and wine opener

Any snacks you can think of     that you can eat without preparation (training is rough when it comes to     food verity, I legit ate a can of green peas once because all I wanted was     something besides rice and sauce)

 For the Workout Fanatic:

Soccer ball (I had a deflated     one sent to me, just add it to a care package list you won’t want to take     this with you)

Soccer cleats

Soccer socks

Resistance bands

Yoga mat

Arm band for iPod or phone     for music

 For the Gardener:

A good pair of gardening     gloves

Packets of all kinds of seeds

A small hand shovel and small     hand rake

  For the Hiker and Camper:

A hammock with a mosquito net     or a small tent

Carabineer clips

An ultralight sleeping pad

Compressable pillow (I     recommend ThermaRest brand)

Moleskin for blisters

A dry bag to store your stuff     when it rains

A steripen for water

 For the Future Pet Owner:

*I got a kitten in Guinea and it was the first thing I did when I got to site. If you’re preparing to get yourself a furry friend, here’s a number of things you’ll want because buying anything pet related in country is super expensive

Cat or dog collar

Flea collar or medication

Small toys for them

Deworming medication

 Things you can leave at home or could buy in Guinea:

High-heels. Trust me on this. You will never wear them (except maybe at Swear-In, but if you want there     are places to find cheap heels here.) Save the space in your bag.

Most kitchen utensils (but I  would suggest bringing at least one fork and one spoon)

A lot of books- theres lots     of them here at the regional houses and if you bring a kindle or tablet,     you can buy more or trade kindle books with other volunteers

A portable camping shower     (you’ll get use to bucket baths and trying to set it up was much more     effort than it was worth.)

A hair straightener and mini     blow dryer. (You won’t use them)

 That’s all I’ve got for you! I hope this list helps and if anyone has any questions, feel free to contact me or shoot me a message!

  Sarah

[britishchick09]

it happened one night livewatch

last week this movie was on tv and i watched some of it in between classes, but was over by the end of school :/

luckily the library exists and i was able to get it! so in honor of my first half day of the year, i’ll be watching this classic movie!

first of all the dvd is cute :)

the old columbia logo is so neat! and the music is great too

ooh it was a short story! coolio

clark gable’s in this *cue girl swoon*

captain: “huuuunger striking?” lol

yo this captain dude is MEAN

is this girl a hostage? wait did she say king? OVER 21 WHAT’S GOING ON

claudette girl: “i thought i told you not to bring any food in here!”* guy backs away* lol

WOAH DUDE DON’T CALL HER A STUBBORN IDIOT >:(

OMG THIS GIRL JUST FLIPPED A TABLE THE FRICK

YO SHE”S A SAVAGEEEEEEE SHE JUS JUMPED IN THE WATER LIKE BLIP

soldier: “she’s too smart for you!” dam right she is ;)

hey is that clark gable in the phone

wait is that a black guy who is that

news boss: “you wouldn’t know a newspaper if you kicked it in the pants” lol

oh it’s clark gable sounding cool kewl

yo prohibition’s over LET’S DRUNKENLY CHUG FLASKS OF WHISKY AT THE STATION WHY DON’T WE

where’s the girl she’s awesome and i miss her

just sit on the newspapers clark gable it would be neat :D

sock him sock him sock him SOCK HIM SOCK HIM SOCK HIM

“oh yeah????” JUS SOCK HIM PLZ

...oh no sock :/

OP DERE HE IS! ...or dere she is ;)

claudette girl and clark gable are sort of like anna and kristoff when they first met! :D

cool train it has a lotta license plates :D

fun fact: if you took a drink every time someone in this movie smokes you’d probably die

*screen fades* commercial break!

yo claudette’s smoking it must be cool don’t smoke kids :D

she just threw her cig LITTERBUG

she didn’t notice that it was gone SEE CIGS ARE BAD

4 dollars is like 100 bucks today cool :D (jk it’s 77)

woah that horn sounds like an electric guitar ROCK ON????

why must old men snore :(

just chuck him across the room claudette it’s cool

sit on clark’s hand it’s cool

*claudette and clark stare at each other* awk-ward!

awwww she’s hugging his arm! ♥

she’s gonna be like OH CRAP when she awakes huh (she did but not much)

they cute together ♥

clark: “you look kind of pretty asleep” awwww

claudette: “i’ll be a few minutes late please wait for me.” conductor: “oh yeah????????”

ooh the night bus cool :D

guy: “the bus is gone.” oH yEaH??????

claudette: “that’s 12 hours from now!” so it’s 8 am now kewl

she calls him young man although he’s older than him lol

her last name is andews so is her first name julie....?

awww it’s ellen :/ still cool tho

she pawned her watch for clothes sorta like how anna bought her travel clothes with her coronation dress neat-o (frozen ihon au?)

ooh telegrams asoue reference

lol the telegram lady can’t read his words lol

2.60 is probably 50 bucks wowza (i was right it’s 50.62!)

the train announcer sounds done with his life poor guy :/

shapely: “you have class with a capital k” ...lol

shut up shapely plz

shapely: “shut up my big nasty mouth!” YES PLZ SHUT UP

shapely: “i could go on you in a big way.” ...oh no

awww clark just called claudette ellen his wife awwwwwwwww ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

shapely: “no offense doc!” bugs bunny who

clark: “you’re as help

buying cigars and cigs on a train what a time

the chocolates are 1.67 that’s like 30 (it’s 32! i’m good at this inflation stuff)

yo it be pouring where’s morton salt girl when you need her

omg this is the part i saw last time i think!

claudette: “your ego is absolutely colossal” tell that to captain man lol

claudette: “there’s a brain behind that face isn’t there?” lol

the hotel is 2 bucks a night which is about 50 huh not bad! :D

awww that’s cute a little privacy screen :)

awwwwwww she gonna wear his pjs!

omg he’s undressing in front of her i thought he liked privacy

this is just for the clark fangirls isn’t it

OMG HE DOES SHOES BEFORE PANTS THE FRICK

clark’s singing the big bad wolf song nice timely reference bro :D

omg we’re FINALLY FINDING OUT CLARK’S NAME HOW DID IT TAKE 30 MINUTES

peter warn nice name :D

claudette: “i don’t like it.” ...oh :/

omg airplane cool :D

wow they have a plane table cool :D

the plane flying overhead reminds me of the planes that fly past here sometimes it’s neat

awww he bought a toothbrush and pressed her clothes so sweet!

clark: “all the best houses have showers outside!” huh idk bout that...

wow this is so domestic

he said her hair was cute awwww!

lol they saw her xd xd xd xd lol

DID THAT LADY JUST STICK HER TONGUE OUT WOOWWWWWWW

wowza you really miss a lot in between classes huh next thing i remember they were stealing a car

clark: “that’s your ration for lunch” world war who

kewl they have a donut

claudette’s kinda cute when she smiles :)

oh no the guys are there!!!!!!!!!!

plz don’t recognize her

clark: ‘dOn’T lOsE yOuR tEmPer!!!” woah mocking spongebob who

lol dat was funny good trolling :D

it’s at 42 minutes HOW IS IT NOT HALFWAY DONE

omg wait i think this is the next part i saw

awww there’s a pic of her on the dad’s desk ♥

cool radio broadcast and newspapers AND WIRE PICS IT’S THE FUTURE MAN

is there a radio on the bus cool

oh it’s just real guys ok cool

ok wow everyone knows the flying trapeze song is this a musical now

wowza this song is from 1867 coolio! :D

are they singing the whole flipping song get on with the story plz

ok wow that guy just DROVE RIGHT INTO A LAKE

OMG SOME KID’S MOM DIED :(

awwww clark’s comforting her bless ♥

the guy said ‘behind the 8 ball’ last decade slang reference :D

WAIT WHY DOES CLARK HAVE FLIPPING MACHINE GUNS??????

10 thousand bucks is like a million billion (it’s 193 million i was close)

WOAH THAT WAS SHAPELY HE HAS KIDS WOWZA!

bugs dooley more like bunny :D

they left the bus so this when they steal the car????

10 spot is like 193 wowza

awww they be going piggyback

abe lincoln is a ‘natural born piggybacker’ confirmed

THE FRICK DID CLARK JUS SLAP HER WHY

oh wow they’re sleeping in hay kewl

clark: “you can’t be hungry and scared at the same time!” hmmmm.......

oh no what happened to peter :(

awww he brought food but she’s scared and not hungry huh i guess he was right!

awwww his coat’s blaket!

OMG KISS KISS KISS KIS

awww no kiss :/

hey it’s like modern times when they walk away from the camera :D

this is the other part i saw the car stealing’s coming up! :D

he’s picking hay out of her teeth how domestically romantic ♥

YO RAW CARROTS THE FRICK IS WRONG WITH YOU BOI

oh wow clark has a lotta hitchhiking moves

claudette: “o that’s amazing.”

you thumbed too late clark you thumbed too late

claudette: *raises her skirt to above her knee* oh dang victorian swoon

OH DANG THAT DRIVER STOPPED!

the driver’s probably thinking of the will smith meme now (DAS HOT! DAS HOT!)

claudette: “the limb is mightier than the sword.”

i remember the driver guy he’s funny :D

he’s just singing and clark’s like ‘oh god please for the love of god and holy stop’

the driver’s so happy i love him :D

his face after clark shuts him up is like ‘hmm’

now i understand claudette’s face when clark suggests a carrot lol :D

clark be like HOP outta that car!

DANG clark beat the driver MAN THAT’S ROUGH!

awww claudette’s wiping clark’s brow what a mom

how much is 10 gallons of gas like 40 bucks or something (it’s 19 cents each which is about 18.34 huh!)

the car’s oinking a bit like the car in the 11 year old senpai newsreel!

now they’re at the hotel place and i guess the owner’s living with his mom???

clark saying claudette will be in her husband’s arms and her pausing is sort of like kristoff saying anna will be safe with her true love bish hans :)

ooh nice rug cover :D

clark’s not that hot shirtness sorry fangirls :/

omg claudette bra wow :o (it’s sorta cute tbh)

oh wow they got in their pjs fast

clark: “i want someone more real, more alive!” claudette’s right there bro

clark: “the stars are so close you feel like you could reach up and stir them around” awww ♥

oh no he doesn’t love him but she truly loves him :(

heartbroken claudette ellen isn’t cool :(

wait was the claudette bra actually a slip or something why is that a wonder?

awww clark’s wondering if she’d really go but she’s asleep

25 bucks is about 300 bucks (it’s 476 kewl)

aww the guy has a hat :D

typewriter!!!!!!!!!!!

AWWW CLARK WANTS TO MARRY HERRRRRRRRR

THEY’RE IN LOOOVVVVEEEEE!!!!!!!! ♥

who’s zeke is this a bob’s burgers crossover

oh the hotel guy huh!

they found claudette in the bed it’s like snow white :D

mom: “i run a respectable business!” too bad you’re not your business OHHHHH

oh hey clark kissed the office gal :D

wowza the paper guy has a lotta phones huh

and a candle stick with a dial phone? wowza!

this place is busy huh

kit was right that typewriter sound is the best :D

oh no clark’s not gonna see her there :/

THOSE POLICE CARS SOUND LIKE SCREAMING KIDS WHY

he’s calling the car ‘baby’ how about the lindberg baby CUZ YOU STOLE IT!!!!

omg hoboes on the train it’s not just a kit thing!

CLAUDETTE’S WITH HER DAD GO TO THE RESCUE CLARK!!!!

the car horn be going ‘de de de de de!”

oh no car gone

wowza that’s a lotta papers!

she’s home but what about her true love?

also are movie newspapers actually created on newspaper i’ve always wondered that

oh no claudette’s marrying insert sad clark here :(

what a pretty gown! very shiny and flowery ♥

awww claudette ellen and her dad are so sweet together!

she wants clark pete doesn’t she

claudette ellen hasn’t cried since she was a baby huh

dad: “tell me you haven’t fallen in love with the bus driver!” it’s worse... THE MILKMAN!!!!! :o

claudette: “i practically threw myself at him!” yeah you kind of did back there....

omg her dad knows peter awesome!

cool a typewriter letter :D

OMG IT BE CLARK PETE!!!!!!!

oh wow he just ran in there and it was awkward with the pappa

HE CALLED HER DARLING!

AND THEY KISSEDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ♥

there’s 10 more minutes it’s getting JUICY

8.60 is probably 70 (it’s 170!)

a buggy ride wowza that’s old fashioned right there

awww clark doesn’t want to admit that he loves claudette but he does

wait is she already married

ooh claudette’s dress train is nice :D

OOH HELICOPTER i thought that was a ‘39 thing!

it’s an airplane with copter blades wow extra much king wesley

ooh the peanuts kids are the chorus people nice :D

the movie camera is a crank cool!

wow dad don’t call your daughter a sucker WOW

39.60 is like 700 bucks probably (765!)

i hope claudette says ‘i DON’T’

dad speak up plz SPEAK UP SPEAK UP

king said ‘i will’ why IT’S ‘I DO’

ooh claudette’s hesitant SHOOT SHE RAN AWAY

the cameras be crankin’

she just drove away like that wowza what a gal

omg the dad’s drunk af what a sad boi

100 thousand is probably a billion AND HE SAYS DIRT CHEAP

awww did claudette and clark go to jerico?

awwww they married!!!!!!!!!!! :D

so that was the movie! it had a lot of funny and memorable parts, but some parts were a little long so i’ll give it a 8/10

what a great movie!

[stemcellee]

Ok so I know a lot of colleges have already started (unless you are on the quarter system lmao) but here’s another “let’s talk about” blab post. Also kind of in honor of me moving into the dorms again in exactly two weeks :C

Read the one about staying healthy here!

Or, just read this one. Let’s talk about your life in the dorms (or maybe you sleep in the campus library but that’s on campus housing too, isn’t it?) 

Things to Ask Your Roommates Did you go random? Did your school give you your roommate(s)’s contacts before moving in? If so, then try to contact them before moving in. It’s really exciting meeting the person(s) that you will be living with for the school year! And most of the time, they’re super excited about meeting you as well. If you are meeting them for the first time the day you move in, then these questions will still probably be great ice breakers for that first night. 

Where are you from?

What’s your major? (typical question for literally everyone)

What are your sleeping habits? (as in, lights on/off, noises, temperature of the room, TIME, if they snore or something)

How do you feel about guests? (only have visitors are certain times, visitors welcome anytime, no preference, no overnight guests or etc etc)

How do you feel about alcohol/smoking? (most universities have strict rules but you know. it’s good to share preferences and stuff)

What are your study habits? (sounds, times dedicated to studying)

What’s your class schedule look like? (my roomies and i always printed up our schedules and hung them in the dorms. It’s actually super useful)

What are you bringing to the dorm that we can share? (aka stuff like microwaves, fridges, water kettles, irons, yknow the basics)

What side of the room/What bunk bed do you want?

Should I wake you up for your class if your alarm doesn’t go off?

Things to Bring to the Dorms (not at all a comprehensive list lmao needs change and are different)

Obvious stuff: Clothes, undies, bedding

Your electronics (laptop, chargers, tablet, phone, etc)

Bath necessities (toothbrush and paste, towel, toilet paper and what not)

Shower shoes

FLOSS, NAIL CLIPPERS

Tape and push pins

FIRST AID KIT

Your immunization records, your identification

Money

Snacks that have a long shelf life in case of emergency or just hunger (like dried or canned food)

A flashlight

WATER and refillable waterbottle

Sunscreen

Extension cords

Napkins/tissues/ziplock bags

Mirrors as needed

an Extra Set of sheets 

General pain medication (like Advil), cold medicine, and your allergy/other personal medicines

Portable charger for your phone

Scissors!!

A refrigerator, microwave, hot water kettle, coffee maker, clothes iron, or something you realize will make your life easier

Laundry detergent

A seat cushion for your desk chair

Things that remind you of home/good times

Plates, bowls, utensils

Dealing With Problems Living on campus can suck sometimes for various reasons. However, see them as learning experiences that will prepare you for the real (Real) world when you leave college.

Getting sick: see this post

Roommate problems: sometimes, you and your roommate might not get along. It’s honestly nothing to be ashamed of because y’all are different people. But if they are doing something you really don’t like (like bringing people over when you are sleeping/studying, being loud, using your stuff, whatever), you have to be firm and tell them because sometimes, they won’t know what they’re doing wrong. Approaching them nicely and being clear is important. As roommates, you will have to accept that you all live in the same area and the space does not belong to just one of you. Make boundaries clear in the beginning, and be open to anything your roommate says to you. Peaceful roommate politics is the way to go.

Homesickness: living away from home can get to you. You might miss things that you never even thought you would miss. Dealing with homesickness is something the majority of college students living away from their home will experience, so it’s important to remember that you have others who feel the same way and you are not to struggle with the feeling alone. Calling home, writing emails/letters to home, or even planning what you want to do the next time you visit home are ways that help cope with homesickness.

Being safe: when you live away from parents or you live with a bunch of other people that you probably didn’t know before coming to campus, things can get overwhelming. Always be aware of your surroundings when you go out, or sometimes even in your residence hall. Keep your belongings safe by locking your door before leaving, or having a safe in your dorm. Wear your shower flip flops because the communal bathrooms can be gross. Always remember consent and remind others of consent. Know your limits with alcohol. This might be the first time that you live independent from guardians so you will be making every decision for yourself. Make sure your decisions keep you in a safe position!!

Report any issues with your dorm (malfunctions, theft, plumbing, electricity) to the front desk or to the housing authority immediately (this place is your home and hopefully you will love it like your home!)

Be courteous of others, like your neighbors/floormates. Respect each other and have fun!

Resources Here are just rando things that I learned to do while living on campus lol

Take a few extra napkins from dining halls and store them in your room. Napkins are useful and this can save you money (i mean in the end you are paying for dining hall services so might as well use the napkins)

Same thing with disposable utensils

Get to know your floormates because they might have the same classes as you and you can study with them!

Always have your roommate(s)’s number saved in your phone

Learn the best (or most private) times to use the bathrooms (lol)

Take advantage of the free stuff (we always got free stuff from our resident assistants/the school because of special events. I got free mason jars, free SUCCULENTS ((that died bc I can’t take care of them)), free FOOD, free shirts etc)

Have a REallly long phone charging cable and a little hanging bucket/hanging bag if you have a top bunk. It makes life easier.

If you’re the kind to plop into bed and be unproductive, consider top bunk. It sucks having to climb in and out so you’ll probably stay out of it (luls)

I’ve exhausted all that I can really think of for now, so I hope that helps! Living in the dorms is supppperr exciting and fun if you make the most out of it!

[buddaimond]

Yahoo Movies exclusive interview with Robert Pattinson by Kevin Polowy

How familiar were you with the source material for Lost City of Z? Had you read David Grann’s book?

Yeah, James gave me the book when it was a totally different script. Or I may have read it long before there was even a script at all. I think at the time he was thinking about me to play Percy’s son. Because I must’ve only been about 21. And then I just kind of stayed with it as time went on, and it went through all these different casts. [Laughs]

It sounds like the script changed a lot through the years. What were the biggest changes made over time?

When I first read it, it was a straight action movie, like Indiana Jones. It was this rip-roaring adventure movie, and not this kind of epic, elegant saga that takes place over 30 years.

Costin is a much more minor character in the book. What did you build off of to shape him?

Well, I always thought with Percy’s character it would be a good idea to have a foil. I always interpreted Percy’s character as this man determined to fix the reputation that he thinks he’s deserved, and which his father has ruined for him. … He keeps going back to the jungle again and again and again, just to fix this insecurity. So I liked the idea of Costin being this character who basically had a total disregard for the English aristocracy or any kind of social climbing whatsoever. So he didn’t really want to bring anything back from the jungle, anyway. The entire point for him was just to go because he had nothing to live for in England.

How much information was out there about the real guy? Any sense of his military career?

Well, Costin in reality was a refrigerator salesman. There was an advert in the Times of London saying, “Adventurers Wanted.” That’s actually how he got the job. [Laughs] He was one of the only people who applied for it. But he was in the army — he was a physical fitness instructor. But really, I liked the craziness of just applying to be an adventurer.

You rock some pretty rad facial hair in this movie. Did that look grow on you — pun intended — or did you not care for it?

By the end, I was definitely over it. But at least when you’re shooting a movie with your face covered, there’s very little makeup to be done. It was definitely a “Get out of bed and that’s it” situation. That helped in the middle of the jungle.

You’ve played lead roles, you’ve taken supporting parts — this is more of a supporting role in an ensemble. Do you have a preference these days?

There are certain directors I just really want to work with, and you bring what you can to a part. But in some ways it’s kind of nice [to play a supporting role]. It is a little bit liberating because you don’t have to concentrate on the narrative thrust of the story. You’re just purely thinking about character and just embellishing it a little bit. But with this, I would’ve played any part in it, pretty much.

Costin has some great lines in this movie. I think one of my favorites is when you say to Hunnam, “We’re too British for this jungle.” Did you guys feel out of your element filming in the jungles of Colombia?

No, I really loved it. I guess in some ways, it was kind of hard. But it’s just incredible, going to work every day in a little boat, going up river in the middle of virgin jungle in Colombia. It was very, very close to being on vacation, to be honest. [Laughs]

But the type of vacation where you couldn’t eat anything?

Well, yeah. There’s a certain degree of harshness, and we were trying to lose as much as weight as possible in a really short period of time. So I guess there’s that element to it. But there’s a reason those guys wanted to keep going back as well. It’s amazing.

Do you consider yourself pretty adventurous? Could your relate to that thirst for exploration?

Yeah, definitely. I do sometimes find myself gravitating toward a job just because it’s shooting out in the middle of nowhere. If I’m shooting in a city, generally it can become a repetitive scenario. If you have anyone taking pictures on their phones, it just constantly reminds you of the reality of your life. And I find it becomes a little more difficult. Whereas if you’re out in the jungle and everyone is on the same page as you, you just sort of believe in character a little bit more.

What is your own personal Amazonian adventure? What is the biggest risk you’ve taken in your career so far?

I don’t know: I’ve done things which I thought were going to be really risky, which ended up not being risky at all. I generally try to keep finding ways to push the envelope as much as I can, and whenever I get the opportunity to do it, I generally try to take it. But I don’t really worry about taking risks, to be honest.

What’s something you thought was risky that ended up not being so?

I did this movie years ago called Bel Ami, which was at the height of all the Twilight stuff. It was this Guy de Maupassant novel about a guy who seduces women specifically to screw them out of their money and ruin their lives. I thought that was a relatively subversive choice to make at the time. [Laughs] And no one really seemed to think the same thing.

What is your relationship with your Twilight fan base these days? Has the madness that surrounded your life calmed down at all?

It’s definitely calmed down in terms of my everyday life, but mainly because I spend more time in London, which is totally different. And I’m doing more parts that just sort of interest me, while in a lot of ways taking a little bit of a step back just to learn and get better. I guess I’ve never really acknowledged what the fan base is, or even if I have one. [Laughs]

Oh, you have one.

But, yeah, I’m always pretty curious about what people say afterward, and who turns up, who likes the movie. It’s always kind of random. But I love it when someone who you just really wouldn’t expect says, “Oh, I liked you in this.”

What films have been most unexpected?

It’s always just really strange. I’ve done a bunch of movies which I thought might’ve been impossible to be seen. There was this film Little Ashes, where I played Salvador Dalí, from years and years ago, and just the other day I was walking down the street and somebody came up and said, “Oh, that’s my favorite film!” You kind of forget that people even watch your films. [Laughs]

What do you think of all the universe building that is going on in Hollywood right now and the possibility that they could reboot Twilight and expand its world? Could you ever see yourself playing Edward Cullen again?

Really, they’re expanding it? So I’ll get my own spin-off? [Laughs]

Potentially! It could be called Edward: Homecoming.

Yeah, exactly.

But would you ever dip back in if the opportunity presented itself?

I mean, I’m always kind of curious. Anything where there’s a mass audience — or seemingly an audience for it — I always like the idea of subverting people’s expectations. So there could be some radical way of doing it, which could be quite fun. It’s always difficult when there’s no source material. But, yeah, I’m always curious.

What type of role haven’t you been offered yet that you’re eager for?

I sort of, to a fault, rely a little bit too much on being inspired by things that land on my doorstep. I literally just did this movie called Good Time, which I think is a really interesting role. But I would’ve never, ever predicted that I would’ve liked it. [Pattinson plays a New York bank robber running from the police.] I think that he’s basically the embodiment of an angry commenter on the Internet.

That sounds great.

Well, if you watch the movie you’ll probably be like, “Huh? What are you talking about?” But one of my favorite things to do — this is quite embarrassing — but you know how when you look on Amazon and you see a product that’s got a consumer review that is so scathing, on like an electric toothbrush or something? Like, literally buying this toothbrush has ruined this person’s life. I always click on that person’s buying history, or their other reviews, and I’ll just read them for days and days. And I’m really amused. These people just have to vent this kind of furious anger on product reviews. I’ve always found that sort of character really interesting. [Laughs]

https://www.yahoo.com/movies/lost-city-z-star-robert-pattinson-epic-beard-embarrassing-amazon-habit-hed-ever-return-twilight-world-163024056.html?soc_src=social-sh&soc_trk=tw

“The Lost City of Z”, opens today April 14 2017 in NY and LA, with a wider release on Friday, April 21.

[kevinpolowy]

'The Lost City of Z' Star Robert Pattinson on His Epic Beard, Embarrassing Amazon Habit, and If He'd Ever Return to the 'Twilight' World

Robert Pattinson on April 5 at the ‘Lost City of Z’ premiere (Photo: Steve Granitz/WireImage)

Robert Pattinson has been waiting for his new movie The Lost City of Z to be revealed to moviegoers for nearly a decade. That’s about how long ago the 30-year-old Twilight alum was first approached by writer-director James Gray for his adaptation of David Grann’s popular non-fiction book about explorer Percy Fawcett’s long and dangerous search in the early 20th century for a hidden indigenous civilization in the Amazon.

Pattinson hung with the project through multiple lead changes (from Brad Pitt to Benedict Cumberbatch to, finally, Charlie Hunnam, who plays Fawcett). He even outgrew the role he was initially in the running for: Percy’s son Jack, played by Spider-Man Homecoming star Tom Holland. Pattison now portrays Henry Costin, a minor character in the book expanded for the screen, Fawcett’s hard-drinking, thick-bearded aide-de-camp. (The movie opens in theaters on Friday.)

In an exclusive interview with Yahoo Movies, Pattinson talked about the risks he’s attempted to take over the course of his career (even if no one noticed), if he’d ever consider returning to role of vampire Edward Cullen, and his embarrassing online habit that will pay dividends come one of his next films, Good Time.

How familiar were you with the source material for Lost City of Z? Had you read David Grann’s book? Yeah, James gave me the book when it was a totally different script. Or I may have read it long before there was even a script at all. I think at the time he was thinking about me to play Percy’s son. Because I must’ve only been about 21. And then I just kind of stayed with it as time went on, and it went through all these different casts. [Laughs]

It sounds like the script changed a lot over the years. What were the biggest changes made over time?When I first read it, it was a straight action movie, like Indiana Jones. It was this rip-roaring adventure movie, and not this kind of epic, elegant saga that takes place over 30 years.

Costin is a much more minor character in the book. What did you build off of to shape him? Well, I always thought with Percy’s character it would be a good idea to have a foil. I always interpreted Percy’s character as this man determined to fix the reputation that he thinks he’s deserved, and which his father has ruined for him…. He keeps going back to the jungle again and again and again, just to fix this insecurity. So I liked the idea of Costin being this character who basically had a total disregard for the English aristocracy or any kind of social climbing whatsoever. So he didn’t really want to bring anything back from the jungle, anyway. The entire point for him was just to go because he had nothing to live for in England.

Robert Pattinson in ‘The Lost City of Z’ (Photo: Amazon)

How much information was out there about the real guy? Any sense of his military career? Well, Costin in reality was a refrigerator salesman. There was an advert in the Times of London saying, “Adventurers Wanted.” That’s actually how he got the job. [Laughs] He was one of the only people who applied for it. But he was in the army — he was a physical fitness instructor. But really, I liked the craziness of just applying to be an adventurer.

You rock some pretty rad facial hair in this movie. Did that look grow on you (pun intended), or did you not care for it? By the end, I was definitely over it. But at least when you’re shooting a movie with your face covered, there’s very little makeup to be done. It was definitely, “Get out of bed, and that’s it” situation. That helped in the middle of the jungle.

You’ve played lead roles, you’ve taken supporting parts — this is more of a supporting role in an ensemble. Do you have a preference these days? There are certain directors I just really want to work with, and you bring what you can to a part. But in some ways it’s kind of nice [to play a supporting role]. It is a little bit liberating because you don’t have to concentrate on the narrative thrust of the story. You’re just purely thinking about character and just embellishing it a little bit. But with this, I would’ve played any part in it, pretty much.

Costin has some great lines in this movie. I think one of my favorites is when you say to Hunnam, “We’re too British for this jungle.” Did you guys feel out of your element filming in the jungles of Colombia? No, I really loved it. I guess in some ways, it was kind of hard. But it’s just incredible, going to work every day in a little boat, going up river in the middle of virgin jungle in Colombia. It was very, very close to being on vacation, to be honest. [Laughs]

Watch Pattinson and Hunnam in a scene from ‘The Lost City of Z:’

But the type of vacation where you couldn’t eat anything? Well, yeah. There’s a certain degree of harshness, and we were trying to lose as much as weight as possible in a really short period of time. So I guess there’s that element to it. But there’s a reason those guys wanted to keep going back as well. It’s amazing.

Do you consider yourself pretty adventurous? Could your relate to that thirst for exploration? Yeah, definitely. I do sometimes find myself gravitating toward a job just because it’s shooting out in the middle of nowhere. If I’m shooting in a city, generally it can become a repetitive scenario. If you have anyone taking pictures on their phones, it just constantly reminds you of the reality of your life. And I find it becomes a little more difficult. Whereas if you’re out in the jungle and everyone is on the same page as you, you just sort of believe in character a little bit more.

What is your own personal Amazonian adventure? What is the biggest risk you’ve taken in your career so far? I don’t know: I’ve done things which I thought were going to be really risky, which ended up not being risky at all. I generally try to keep finding ways to push the envelope as much as I can, and whenever I get the opportunity to do it, I generally try to take it. But I don’t really worry about taking risks, to be honest.

What’s something that you thought was risky that ended up not being? I did this movie years ago called Bel Ami, which was at the height of all the Twilight stuff. It was this Guy de Maupassant novel about a guy who seduces women specifically to screw them out of their money and ruin their lives. I thought that was a relatively subversive choice to make at the time. [Laughs] And no one really seemed to think the same thing.

What is your relationship with your Twilight fanbase these days? Has the madness that surrounded your life calmed down at all? It’s definitely calmed down in terms of my everyday life, but mainly because I spend more time in London, which is totally different. And I’m doing more parts that just sort of interest me, while in a lot of ways taking a little bit of a step back just to learn and get better. I guess I’ve never really acknowledged what the fan base is, or even if I have one. [Laughs]

Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson in ‘Twilight’ (Photo: Summit)

Oh, you have one. But yeah, I’m always pretty curious about what people say afterwards, and who turns up, who likes the movie. It’s always kind of random. But I love it when someone who you just really wouldn’t expect says, “Oh, I liked you in this.”

What films have been most unexpected? It’s always just really strange. I’ve done a bunch of movies which I thought might’ve been impossible to be seen. There was this film Little Ashes, where I played Salvador Dalí, from years and years ago, and just the other day I was walking down the street and somebody came up and said, “Oh, that’s my favorite film!” You kind of forget that people even watch your films. [Laughs]

What do you think of all the universe building that is going on in Hollywood right now, and the possibility that they could reboot Twilight and expand its world? Could you ever see yourself playing Edward Cullen again? Really, they’re expanding it? So I’ll get my own spin-off? [Laughs]

Potentially! It could be called Edward: Homecoming. Yeah, exactly.

But would you ever dip back in if the opportunity presented itself? I mean, I’m always kind of curious. Anything where there’s a mass audience — or seemingly an audience for it — I always like the idea of subverting peoples’ expectations. So there could be some radical way of doing it, which could be quite fun. It’s always difficult when there’s no source material. But yeah, I’m always curious.

What type of role haven’t you been offered yet that you’re eager for? I sort of, to a fault, rely a little bit too much on being inspired by things that land on my doorstep. I literally just did this movie called Good Time, which I think is a really interesting role. But I would’ve never, ever predicted that I would’ve liked it. [Pattinson plays a New York bank robber running from the police.] I think that he’s basically the embodiment of an angry commenter on the internet.

That sounds great. Well, if you watch the movie you’ll probably be like, “Huh? What are you talking about?” But one of my favorite things to do — this is quite embarrassing — but you know how when you look on Amazon, and you see a product that’s got a consumer review that is so scathing, on like an electric toothbrush or something? Like, literally buying this toothbrush has ruined this person’s life. I always click on that person’s buying history, or their other reviews, and I’ll just read them for days and days. And I’m really amused. These people just have to vent this kind of furious anger on product reviews. I’ve always found that sort of character really interesting. [Laughs]

Read more from Yahoo Movies:

‘Lost City of Z’: Charlie Hunnam Meets a Tipsy Robert Pattinson in Exclusive Clip

What to Stream: Celebrate Robert Pattinson’s Birthday With His 3 Best Movies (That Aren’t ‘Twilight’)

‘Fast and Furious’ Red Carpet Flashback! 16 Years of Fast Cars and Family