#also made her waaaaay to skinny

[shenanaginag]

Been a while since I've done a SLARPG one minute draw from memory challenge.

Next one up for the main villains: Paula!

I feel like I captured... Something about her here.

I overestimated how much armor she was wearing tho. Definitely didn't miss anything else of course...

[buccigang-headcanons]

La Squadra Backstories!!!! Stream of consciousnesss style!

So literally I just sat down and wrote down exactly what I thought. I have not edited these at all lmaooo. But I made long drawn out backstories for our underrated assassins so enjoy!!

T/W + C/W - idk I talk about people dying in a lot of ways. Child abuse, drugs, severe illness, dead cats. This stuff is a mess I really didn’t censor it. But nothing is described in detail cuz I’m too lazy for that.

————

Prosciutto cuz he’s at the top of my mind. Mmkay he and Pesci are brothers but not by blood. Pro was an orphan, I still wanna make him Russian, and pesci’s extremely kind and gentle family adopted him when he was like 7. They were like literally a garden catalogue family. Perfection. The parents died when pro was like 15, Pesci was 13?? Idk the age difference I’m just making shit up now. And Pesci had no fucking idea what to do, they didn’t have any other family, and pro was like “I’m still basically a hardened criminal from living on the streets of russia most of my childhood, so joining the local mafia should be a piece of cake”. It was.

Risotto..... fuck it. Polpo is risottos dad. I’ve seen that so much and fuck it I’m here for it now. Idk how I feel about the whole Mariah from part 3 being his mom that seems too coincidental. But either way, he is half Spanish. I don’t think he’s ever been in touch with his Spanish roots at all, but that’s what he is. Polpo had too much fun on vacay in Spain. But it was a once night stand and polpo, a skinny king back in the mid 70s, fucked off to do mafia stuff and didn’t know about this kid. Risotto never knew his father. Time goes by, about the time he’s 10, rizzo’s mom moves to Italy to find the man she once loved. Since the 70s, she has been married and divorced 4 times, disowned by her entire family, and she speaks only of Polpo, the man who swept her off her feet and then disappeared into the night. Leaving only this child with his matching eyes. So they live in Italy, risotto is about 13 now and his mom has been searching seriously for polpo for about 3 years. One day, she gets too close, mafia takes her out. Risotto is all alone in a country he has lived in for less than 3 years. So he decides to take revenge against the mafia. He goes to hunt them down. (I’m too lazy to write out how. Gets a gun. Basically the scene in part 5 where the kid is like “you killed my father and now I’m gonna kill you!!” But he chickens out???) yeah except rizzo didn’t chicken out, he stood firm and killed 2 of them. The other 2 surrendered, and immediately asked rizzo to take polpos test. He did. And he unknowingly met his father, the man his mother had died looking for. He stared into his fathers eyes, black sclera reflecting each other, and passed his test with ease.

Wowwwwwwwww alrighty then that was something. Let’s shake out those jitters because fuck that was intense and let’s move onto some happy shit.

Melone!! Always a bottle of joy. He was a phenomenal student, a perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect looks. Onlyyyy tiny thing is he murdered cats and buried their heads in the back yard. But that was his only flaw. Aaaaaaaand mayyybe trying to use his extensive knowledge of molecular biology and genetics (even at as young as 11) to asexually breed said cats.

But, apart from that, absolutely perfect specimen of a young boy. And he kept that up until college. Until the rape accusation. Melone had no interest in having sex with her, he swore under oath in open court, he only wanted to “extract her essence” in the hopes of making her amazing genetics stay pure for centuries.

Due to his previously amazing school record, he was allowed to plead not guilty by reason of insanity (because the justice system is bullshit) and was released to his parents. During this whole process, Melone’s mother had begun to grow suspicious of her son, wondering if there was something wrong with him. This led her to explore the crawl space under the garage, more commonly known as “Melone’s childhood laboratory”. The cat skulls alone were enough to set her off. They allowed him into their home long enough to fool the court, but parole officers don’t pay attention, and they kicked him to the curb a month later. Broke, alone, and with no real skills other than his genius mind and gorgeous body, he became a prostitute. It was only a few months before he wandered up to a gigantic white haired man with angry eyes and asked if he wanted a date. Instead of declining, our good ol rizzo just knocked him out cold and brought him home. The rest is history. Literally because I can’t think of what would happen between that and Melone joining the mafia. I assume he was just their house pet for a little while before he decided he wanted a stand too.

Oh good lord these are getting insane. Better keep going. Okay I have no idea what’s about to come out of my head for ghia but oh Lordy. Might as well start. Ghiaccio wasn’t always quite as angry, but it’s actually gonna be a sweet story. Kinda. He used to act perfect, even tho he always felt the anger inside. He was forced to bottle it up and put on a happy exterior always. His mother was Belgian. (From experience, Belgian mothers (Flemish in particular) will beat you until your ass is raw if you talk back). Italian father, they lived in italy. He had 4 sisters, he was the middle child of 5. Around high school, he started acting out. Of course this was due to all of his bottled up anger from the past 15 years. 4 shattered sinks, 16 holes in the drywall, and one classroom fire later, Ghiaccio was expelled from school. His parents were too busy brimming with joy about the success of all his sisters that they didn’t take much notice to him. “If you’re going to behave in such a manner you might as well leave” his mother said. She was past the point of caring enough to beat him. So he left. 16 and with no where to go, he wandered the streets. After a year or so, Ghia had gotten used to that life, and was angry at everyone, sometimes when he wasn’t even angry. Anger had become his coping mechanism. Screaming was easier than talking. Until one day, he screamed at a blonde man in an intersection. Prosciutto was driving back to the squads hang out, boxes of takeout in the back seat of the car. He had chosen to not stop at the red light, just for fun, and nearly ran into our blue haired teenager. Ghia proceeded to cuss him out for a good 4 minutes in the middle of this intersection before pro cut him off. “Get in the back. “ he said, with his own special brand of brotherly love. “I know how you can put that anger to good use”. Ghiaccio, having no real reason to object, got in the back seat. Prosciutto was silent the rest of the drive and Ghiaccio yelled about all the take out food, now splattered on the backs of the seats due to the sudden slam on the brakes.

Y’all I don’t even remember the other la squadra members. Let’s do sorbet/gelato because they have zero backstory or personality so I can just ramble. *Clears throat* let’s begin. These fuckers. Friends since birth. Grew up together, always really close. They were both dirt poor, but because the only school nearby was a decent public school, when were able to slightly experience middle class living. They liked it. They wanted to see upper class, and once they did, they wanted to be there. These two were money grubbing bffs, I’m talking josuke and okuyasu, but like waaaaay more intense and also violent. They both left home around 14, together of course. Gelatos father had left them a few years prior, and his family were on the brink of starvation. Figuring they didn’t need another mouth to feed (and completely abandoning his post as family patriarch lol) he left with sorbet, who’s family had all died in various ways over the years. Most recently, his older sister being taken by some illness that was probably easily treatable, but with no means for a doctor, she died in days. The boys left home and school, and made a living by pickpocketing tourists and occasionally launching into larger heists. They made a decent living for themselves, but eventually started spending their money on drugs. It’s was sorbet first, heroin was really good to him for awhile. Gelato was against it, knowing it was the reason sorbets family had been so poor to begin with. His father was an addict, and despite holding down a job fairly well, spent all his earnings on drugs. Eventually he became too dependent, lost his job, and OD’d. But around this same time, when the boys were 16/17, they were starting to realize their feelings for each other. Confused teenaged minds full of budding love led to Gelato giving in, and soon their days were filled with heroin fueled ecstatic sex. They lived like this for awhile, existing in half reality, until one day they chose to set their pickpocketing targets on a short man with close cropped gray hair. The plan was perfect, sorbet bumped into the man and gelato passed by to grab his wallet, and suddenly they were the size of mere ants. In an instant, they were returned to size, left to wonder if it was real or just a hallucination from long term drug use. But they didn’t run. Formaggio introduced himself, with a loose handshake and a pause to spit out some tobacco, and promptly invited them to a “party”. Although, Formaggio was honest in his promise, this party did have drugs.

Cheese boys turn!! Seriously who am I forgetting??? Illuso my mirror man! Am I forgetting someone else too?? Idk. But shut up Kel it’s cheese boys turn.

So. Formaggio. Probably the most chill childhood. Lower middle class, pretty average, but he was quite gifted with sports. Soccer was his main, and also a fantastic competitive swimmer. (Okay I have a separate hc that Bruno is really good at soccer so hol horse up a moment so I can imagine those 2 playing soccer together in friendly competition. In my lil au where Bruno is in la squadra because I say BruPro exes rights please and thanks.) but anyway, he got really good at soccer and was offered a scholarship to play at a fancy pants private high school when he was 14. Of course his parents made him go, this has been the family’s dream for years, and formaggio’s as well. So high school is amazing, he’s starting to attract attention from universities even tho he’s barely in grade 11 by this point. And it’s all really amazing until he realizes. This isn’t what he wants. And it’s just that. He doesn’t want to play soccer anymore, he doesn’t want to potentially be famous. He just wants to be a kid. So he leaves school, he leaves home, he wants to start over. And he wanders into a diner and sees this small group of weirdly dressed men. At this point, it’s rizzo, pro, Pesci, and ghia. And he’s staring at them because they’re dressed like circus clowns but their aura is so murderous. And then the one who looks like a giant pineapple starts staring back. Pesci gets up and walks over to Formaggio. “I know you! You’re that amazing kid soccer player!!” And he just goes on and on about shit he read in the news (70% of it was false) until pro comes over and yanks his idiot brother away. Pro starts asking Formaggio questions, thinking he could be a good target. Stupid little rich kid. But to prosciuttos surpise, Formaggio is just a down to earth kid with no more money to his name than he needs to pay for this meal. Prosciutto takes him home after that. He doesn’t really offer any explanation.

(The rambling at the beginning of this paragraph actually happened lol so I paused for like 4 hrs oops)

Alright we are back. Had to leave to go to therapy and then scream at my mother and cry to my boyfriend but we are ready to go! Illuso and I really hope he’s the last one and I’m not forgetting one. Illuso was raised in an orphanage from infancy. No idea who his parents could even be. Fun fact: one of the nuns at the orphanage (cuz it’s an orphanage in Italy in 1980, they’re catholic.) nicknamed him Illuso because he was always pointing at things that weren’t there. As a tiny baby and a child, he would always be looking at things no one else can see (yes illuso is a natural stand user fight me). The nuns called him illuso as an insult, hoping to shame him into stopping. He never did. When he outgrew the orphanage, he decided to join the priesthood. He was 19, a priest in training, when the mafia came to the orphanage. They were collecting, and illuso knew they didn’t have the money this month. He tried to talk the mobsters down, but that went about as well as planned. 4 bullets to the chest, 3 open heart surgeries, and half a dozen resuscitations later, Illuso was released from the hospital. The orphanage had been shut down, and no one knew what had happened to the children or the nuns. With no where to go, illuso knew of one place that could use talents like his. The talents of steadily stealing money from the starving children of the church for a decade. It was during polpos test that illuso’s stand manifested. Not due to the arrow, but to protect its user from the other stand. Illuso was able to avoid Black Sabbath by hiding in his newfound mirror world until it was time to return the lighter to polpo (kinda cowardly but whatever.) he was assigned to risottos group by chance and was the last to join excluding Melone. But they loved him as if they had found him themselves.

[neighbourskid]

What’s Your Story?

(original date: 30 July 2016)

At ComicCon, two weeks ago, I got this free shirt that says "What's your story?". And now that I've been wearing it, every time I've looked in a mirror or just seen a reflection of myself, I have been wondering, what exactly is my story? Why am I the way I am? What made me like this? Where do I come from, and where do I go to? And I have thought a lot about this, to be honest. But I guess, I just gotta start at the beginning, right?

I am pretty bad with childhood memories. I barely know anything. Everything that I do know, I feel like only knowing because people told me or because I've seen pictures of it. Which honestly bums me out. I am also constantly not sure if things I feel like I actually do remember, aren't just things that I made up at some point. But anyways.

I grew up in a small-ish town in Switzerland. We've lived in other small-ish towns and villages before, but I was definitely too young to remember any of that. There are memories of me feeding my older half-brother, but I am quite sure that I only know this because there's a picture of it. Right now, I'd say my earliest memory is my half-brother (who's autistic by the way) helping my brother and me out of beds we couldn't get out on our own. I know that I know this. I was probably around three or four at the time. Anyways.

My parents got divorced when I was four. Although I have lived with my mom until I moved out this July, I never really connected with her as much as other girls do. Those good mother-daughter relationships you see in movies sometimes? We didn't have that. I was always very focused on the men in my family. My dad was my hero, even though I only saw him every second weekend and on special occasions like birthdays and Christmas. But he was my hero. Still is.

My brother was my role model from early childhood on. My mom always says, that I was always okay with everything that he chose to do or have. My brother wanted these pants? Me too. My brother wanted chocolate milk? Me too. Those were my most said words. "Me too."

My mom feared that I would be too dependent on his decisions and never be truly me, because I was okay with doing whatever he did. But I don't think that this is what happened. I just loved my brother. My dad wasn't always there because of the divorce, so my next go-to person was my brother, because I didn't see my mom as a role model or go-to person. We didn't connect like that.

My brother and me, we're 18 months apart. That's a wonderful age gap. It's not too close, but it's also not too far away to get along splendidly.

Of course, one of the reasons why I was always okay with doing/having what my brother did, was because I thought we were the same. As a child, I didn't really get the concept of gender or that there is a real difference between boys and girls. I just knew that some people had other parts than others, but I was like, yeah and? What does it matter?

I just knew that I always liked hanging out with boys more than I did with girls. I had this friend in kindergarten who I always stole Legos with. Then in first grade, I was seated next to a girl with the same last name as me, and we got along and I got to play at her house a lot, but in second grade I was back to being with boys. And I was friends with the same boy until probably fourth grade, then expanded my friend group - to even more boys. And they accepted me. I got to hang out with them, got to play video games with them, played with pokemon cards, played football. It wasn't until probably sixth grade that I actually got girl friends. And even then, my main friend group were still the boys. And I was kinda the "cool girl" because I got to hang out with them.

It was nothing I was striving for, but it happened nonetheless.

I remember that one of my best friends had a crush on me, and I didn't get it. I was oblivious to that. Until I cut my hair in sixth grade, and thus looked more boyish than ever before, and he lost his interest. In retrospect, I should've seen it. But it doesn't really matter anyway.

Then seventh grade came around - new teachers, new class - and I only had four of my old classmates left: two girls who I didn't spend that much time with, the guy who had had a crush on me and another guy who I had often played video games with, but more due to other people than actually him. So in short, four people I wasn't really that good friends with. So I had to find new ones.

As many of you might now, I am an insanely introverted person. Well, at least to new people. People who have known me for a long time often can't believe that I am actually very shy and introverted. But that is that.

I made friends rather quickly, though. Well, at least I think so. I got along well with pretty much everyone, but I mostly spent my time with one or two of the girls. But in the end, I didn't really bond with them that much, because I haven't talked to anyone of them in years. It didn't matter anyway, because I had to repeat 8th grade, and had new classmates anyway. And that is where I made friends, who I still see to this day and am still friends with. I'm even living with one of them! Which is great to be honest.

In the two years I was with those people, I changed a lot. I was always the tomboy, the girl dude. The bro that just so happened to be a girl, but nobody cared. But with those people, I think I finally wasn't the bro friend anymore. I was still the stereotype "cool girl" especially because I wasn't girly (I'm still not) and I didn't give two shits what people thought (still don't). But I got more girlier than before. I dressed less manly, could finally get to like tank tops, skinny jeans, and shorts that didn't cover my knees. Even jewelry! Well rings, mostly.

But I was still me; boyish, reckless, climbing-on-trees-and-falling-down self-destroy-ish.

My dad always wanted a son and a daughter. And that is what he got. I am not the typical daughter, the typical girl. But I have a lot in common with my dad, so I think he got the daughter he wanted, or he came around to accept that I would never be the girly girl. He loves me and I know that.

I know my mom loves me. And that she accepts me for who I am. But I think she always had more issues with me being the way I am, than my dad had. With me being so very boyish. We always fought when buying clothes. Oh, the memories. It was a war.

After ninth grade I went to grammar school. I only knew my friend Angie, but soon enough I got along with pretty much everyone in that class. I think I was still the "cool girl" which got me friends easily. I got along with the girls, I got along with the boys. I think I was good friends with everyone, with some exceptions obviously. I had friends in other classes as well. I wasn't typically popular, mind you, but I am friendly. People get along with me. People tell me I'm funny, trustworthy, loyal, a good friend.

I made a habit of getting along with teachers, too. Mostly teachers I didn't have class with, but still. The class teacher of the one's we had PE with, was one of those teachers. After the first half year, I decided that he was going to be my victim, and so after the skiing camp he became exactly that. I mocked him constantly. After a fantastic incident - I shouted across the school yard that I thought his pink shirt was extremely manly - he asked one of his students who was my friend, if I meant harm or if I was always like that. She told him that this was just who I was, and from that moment on he returned my "bullying". We had a great time. I tried to sell him shoes, he was my go-to person for pain killers, he mocked my headaches, he told me with the biggest smile to "shut the fuck up". We had a great time. I always have one or two teachers like that at every school I go to. My English and German teacher was the other victim. He was a great teacher, and I think he appreciated me as a student. I met him yesterday and he was very pleased to hear that I was going to study English. We had bitch fights in the middle of class. While everyone looked at me like I had death wishes, we had the greatest fun mocking each other. It was great.

I am no teachers pet. I just feel like you need at least one teacher you actually like and have a good relationship with, or else you won't make it through school without constant mental breakdowns.

Anyways. I am rabbit trailing (I would like to personally thank Zachary Levi for adding this word to my vocabulary).

As some of you might know, I am a Christian. Not the "it says on my papers that I am a Christian, so I am one" but actually an active Christian. I go to church. I pray. I believe. I wouldn't call myself religious. I am a person of faith. There's a difference.

Anyways. When I was in second grade, my mom got a job where she had to work shifts. So we got someone where we could go eat, and spend our free afternoons at. They are great people and I'm still friends with them. Their two children are basically my little siblings and I consider their daughter one of my best friends.

These people, this couple, were Christians, and they went to church in our town. I don't know exactly when my mom converted, but I know that we started going to that church, and I made friends for life. When I was twelve or thirteen, there was a baptism service coming up and I told my mom that I wanted that, too.

Usually, it is waaaaay to early to get baptised at twelve or thirteen. Mostly, teens are "allowed" to do so when they're sixteen or eighteen or whatever. But I felt like this was the right thing to do, so I did. And they let me.

Over the course of my life as a person of faith, I have always searched for role models. Someone I could look up to in that aspect of my life. I found a few. The dad of the two girls I live with at the moment was one of them. He was the pastor of our church, is a missionary in Central Africa now. Then there were various people from our church who I looked up to because they just have so much faith and trust. And in 2012 someone new made his way into my line of sight and is now not only a role model as a person of faith, but for life in general. In 2012, through the movie Avengers and through Tom Hiddleston, I discovered Zachary Levi. Who is not only a brother in Christ, but an all around good person in general and just the sweetest guy I have ever had the good fortune of meeting.

Through various interviews and NerdHQ panels, Zac has over and over again inspired me in so many ways. He inspires me to be more kind, to be more gentle, to be more passionate. He inspires me to trust God, to bring important decisions before God. He inspires me so much. Every time NerdHQ comes around again, or every time I just watch panels throughout the year, I get giddy and I'm full of energy to live my dreams, go out and change the world, be the best version of myself.

This year I have had the wonderful opportunity to finally attend NerdHQ and meet Zac for the first time. And he did not disappoint. He was everything I wished him to be. Even better. He gave me something so precious that I feel like this will fuel me for a very long time. With a simple sentence he changed my life more than he already has before. And I am eternally grateful for that.

"What's your story?" Well, my story is still in the first chapters. There's a lot more to come. I've been through things that I wish I hadn't. I lost people very dear to me. I'm still trying to find out some things about me. But there's one thing I know. God will help me write my story. He will be there every step of the way. God will put people in my life that help me figure out who I am, what to do, and where to go. He put Zac and NerdHQ in my life for a reason. And there's no way I am letting that go. Ever.

I told my mom yesterday that I plan to never miss NerdHQ ever again, if I can anyhow avoid it. She said, "that's big talk." But I'm not kidding. I will do everything in my power to never miss the awesomeness that is NerdHQ ever again. Those are four days of granted happiness. Why should I ever wanna miss that again? There are likeminded, amazing people who I wouldn't be able to see anywhere else. They don't live in Switzerland. They live all over America.

My story is about a girl who loves stories. And storytellers. I would love to be one, too. I get inspired every other day by stories I read or hear or see, and I would like to give back. Tell stories to inspire future generations, the way people like Zac have inspired me.

My story is about finding purpose in inspiring others. My story is about being passionate, "loving too much", knowing a shit ton of "fun facts" about movies and books and people I've never met in my life. My story is about me. Your average neighbourhood nerd. The kid next door. The introverted kid who doesn't seem introverted at all, once you get to know them.

So, that is me. What's your story?

[milesintosmiles]

FMLS 90 Day Challenge Catch Up Post

Hey! So better late than never right?

Well I’ve decided to join the FMLS 90 Day Challenge because I would like some accountability and motivation to get me through these next few months! But, since I decided to join late I am going to be playing catch up with the daily prompts today and will be putting the first 6 in this post. (I’ll put them under a read more so I don’t clog up anyone’s dash!)

Here we go!:

My name is Amanda and I had no interest in fitness when I was younger. I used to do anything to get out of running or pushups or any kind of physical activity. But, when highschool rolled around all of my friends were so skinny and they could share clothes and I got jealous. I wanted to be like that too, I started restricting and binging.

I was at my highest weight when i was in college and decided to move to New York. I ended up falling into the hands of my eating disorder and dropped from 180 to 130 over the course of 6 months. It took a toll on me mentally and physically and when I moved back to PA I became bored with life and even more depressed and gained almost all my weight back.

But then two semesters into my new college I saw a sign that changed my life. They needed more people for the XC team. Now mind you I had never ran before and I explained that to the coach, but he still wanted me to join.

Over the course of two years he changed my life for the better, I made friends, I found a sport I loved, I learned to love and respect my body waaaaay more than I had before, and I learned to feed it not because I was bored but because it deserves it!  My body is amazing!!

Since then I’ve done spartan races, tough mudders, a half marathon, a full marathon, and next weekend I am doing my first trail relay for charity.

But, since then I have also graduated college and moved to a place where the closest gym is 45 mins away and not that great, and crazy expensive. I don’t have many friends here (except my boyfriend) and sometimes my depression gets the better of me.

I know that working out helps with my depression but it also makes it hard to keep working out once I’ve fallen out of the groove, so I’m hoping this 90 day challenge will help me stay in the groove!

Besides working out I love cats, coffee, cooking, and thrifting. My apartment doesn’t currently allow me to have a cat, but at my parent’s house I have 5 named Momo, Mia, Sparta (he has Cerebral Palsy), Otto, and Pepper and 1 dog named Rue who is a great running buddy (I tend to slow her down).

3.10/2 What are some of your high level fitness goals for the rest of the year?

    I want sooooo badly to place at the turkey trot in my town again (top 3) I don’t even care if it’s 3rd I just want to place.

   I also really want to beat my time from last year.

 Run 8 min/mile average pace for a 5k

 Run 7 min mile for 1 mile

 Go on a long run for 13.1 miles (for fun not a race)

 Sign up for another marathon and start training (this is mostly dependent on if I can get a job/cash though.)

Workout at least 4 days a week!

 I will add more if I ever actually get access to a gym!

4. 10/3 - Talk about your support structure. Who are your champions?

My boyfriend is my rock. I live in an area where I don’t know anyone and so I get really down sometimes, and he pushes me to go do things where I might meet people. He also notices if I am getting sad or moody because that is a sign that I haven’t gone for a run.

He shows up to all my races and cheers me on and takes all my photos for my instagram and tumblr, no matter how many crazy poses I make him take pictures of. I am so thankful for him.

My coach is another champion of mine. Well…I guess he isn’t my coach anymore since I graduated but he always will be to me. I want to get fit so that we can do a tough mudder together and I won’t slow him down haha!

Oh and my best friend Holly! I love that girl, she just makes me want to be a better person all around and she always tells me how fit I look and stuff, she is like my pit crew that takes care of me, and I want to be that for her too!

5. 10/4 - What are some of your unique challenges? How do you plan to overcome them?

Obviously not having a gym is a bit of a challenge as well as not having a job/income.

I will be working out at home and using the equipment I have here (dumbbells and resistance bands) as well as amazon workout videos and going for runs/bike rides.

I am going to continue to look for jobs (and hope that my boyfriend finds a new one back towards pittsburgh so that I can go back to work) so that I can get a gym membership when the winter months come so my running doesn’t suffer.

My depression is also a challenge, but I am going to try to use my sunlamp and get as much real sun as possible until I can’t, and workout when I can. When it feels overwhelming I will try to talk to others to figure it out.

6. 10/5 - How public or private are you as a person? How much of your fitness Journey do you plan to share here and with your friends and family?

I mean I have an instagram account for my running so I am pretty public about it. I feel like a lot of people can relate to my experiences and if I can help any one with what I’ve gone through then I definitely want to!!

As for this challenge in particular I will def be talking about it with my boyfriend and best friend but I am not quite sure if my parents would understand haha!

Anyways if anyone has read this far that is awesome!! Props to you!! <3

[whiparoundandcry]

Submitted Earbuds fic!

In hindsight, Cole really shouldn’t have tried to run through a pitch black alleyway when he has literally no sense of direction.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he can be a Ninja just fine, there are land marks all over the city, and he can navigate buildings just fine, but if you were to throw him in an alleyway in the thick of the city before he had time to take in his surroundings, and said alleyway was pitch black (ha, black), he was screwed.

Which conveniently is what just happened to him.

Cole wasn’t patrolling, he wasn’t even in uniform! He was just normal civilian sitting on the roof when all the sudden he was grabbed from behind and pulled down to ground level for no apparent reason! Thank fuck he was also a Ninja, otherwise he would’ve been screwed. He had barely managed to escape their oh so evil clutches cough cough not. It took him like two seconds to wiggle out of their grasp before he bolted.

Cole could still hear the shouts of his attackers as he ran through the ridiculously complicated why the fuck would do this to me city planners twists and turns of the city. He began furiously typing on his phone as he ran in an attempt to obtain some much needed help.

[8:25 PM to The oval o NOledge]

coletrains foeva: FUCK

coletrains foeva: shit

coletrains foeva: disater

coletrains foeva: HELP

whiparoundandcry: shit dude whaddup?

BlueJay: Did something happen?

coletrains foeva: I needs help

coletrains foeva: like with noe

Grumpy Sis: Whats happening?

Grumpy Sis: oh shit

Best Boyf: Where are u?

coletrains foeva: don’t know

coletrains foeva: some alleyway

coletrains foeva: gjffn

coletrains foeva: help

I break Walls: very vauge were were u last?

coletrains foeva: Don noe

BlueJay: Dude what the hell happened?

whiparoundandcry: Are you injured?

coletrains foeva: hsh no

I break Walls: thank God

coletrains foeva: so.e dudes attempt kidnap

Best Boyf: fuck

Grumpy Sis: did you say attempted kidnap?

coletrains foeva: yea shit oh fuck me dead end help

whiparoundandcry: dude shit Cole u Kay,?

BlueJay: Cole?

Grumpy Sis: Fuck!

Best Boyf: o shit we might need white for this

I break Walls: yeah we do

~~~~~~~~

Zane was having a pretty normal evening. He had stocked up on supplies, sifted through data, resplied the medical corner for Wu, and gotten a Cat unstuck from a tree for an old lady. Pretty normal, everything expected. He had scanned recent crime activity for patterns as well. Zane really was having a normal day. He wasn’t expecting, however, to get spamed with PM’s from Red.

20:25 - Red: dude

20:26 - Red: White

20:28 - Red: shit man we need u

20:28 - White: Why? And whom?

20:28 - Red: Blacks an idiot

20:28 - Red: Got himself kidnap in civvies

20:29 - White: How do you know?

20:29 - Red: Told me

20:29 - Red: And gray and blue

20:29 - White: Why did he tell u 3 and not just pm me?

20:29 - Red: Group chat on phone

20:30 - Red: Couldn’t risk them knowing he was a ninja prolly

20:30 - White: How does he have u 3s #s?

20:30 - Red: Long story don’t ask he need to be found!

20:31 - White: But then I’ll know his identity :/

20:31 - Red: screw that shit man he’s in trouble!

20:31 - White: Do you know his ID?

20:31 - Red: yeah me blue and gray do

20:31 - White: WHAT!?

20:32 - White: HOW?

20:32 - White: WU WILL BE FURIOUS!!

20:32 - Red: YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?!

20:33 - White: How do you three know each other’s IDs?!

20:33 - Red: Its a long story!

20:33 - White: That’s not an excuse!

20:34 - Red: Don’t u care that black is kidnapped?

20:34 - White: Tell me the short story then!

20:34 - White: And yes I do care

20:35 - Red: Ugh!

20:35 - Red: Fine

20:35 - Red: Just don’t interrupt

20:35 - White: I won’t

20:36 - Red: Long story short Gray is my sister

20:36 - White: I know that

20:36 - Red: Blue and I are dating

20:36 - White: WHAT?!

20:36 - White: WU WILL BE EVEN MORE FURIOUS!

20:36 - Red: I said don’t interrupt!

20:36 - Red: And blue ran into black because of our friend Addison

20:37 - Red: Now get your ass over here!

20:37- White: You and blue are DATING?!

20:37 - Red: YES AND COLE COULD BE DYING RIGHT NOW SO GET YOUR FUCKING ROBOTIC ASS OVER TO MY LOCATION RIGHT NOW!

20:38 - Red: for fucks sake

20:38 - Red: Red Disconnected

20:38 - White: White Disconnected

~~~~~~~~

Getting knocked unconscious sucked, Cole decided. You don’t what happened to or around you, and you could have been dragged anywhere. It was also terrifying waking up in an unfamiliar situation. Cole groaned in pain as he slowly came to a state of awareness. The first thing he noticed was the stabbing pain across his hip and the throbbing of his head.

Ow. Okay, Brookstone. Remember your training. Step one. Are you injured?

If the pain in his head, hip, and oh hey his shin too, were anything to go by, yes, he was injured.

Okay, Step two. Are you tied down anywhere?

His hands were tied behind his back, and his feet, yep they were tied too.

Step three. What are your surroundings? Is it safe to look at them visually?

Cole concentrated on the sounds around him. He could hear muffled cries to his left, quite whispering to his right, and heavy breathing all around him. He could hear the shuffling of clothes and whimpers in front of him. He could also hear a calm set of breathing in front of him, maybe a unconscious person? He couldn’t hear the sound of any guards, which was mildly concerning, and other people were there, so if he had to guess, he was a hostage.

Wonderful.  

Cole slowly peeled his eyes open and scanned his surroundings. There was a little girl, preteens maybe, crying to his left, as well as an elderly woman. There was two gruff looking older men to his right whispering to each other, a plan to escape from the sounds of it. In front of him was three teens. The one on the left was a girl with Blue hair? And the one on the right was wearing baggy sweatpants and a hoodie with the hood on, so he couldn’t see their face, but he did spie a lock of black hair. In front of him was a male teen of maybe 14 or 15 with platinum blonde hair. When Cole made eye contact, their strikingly familiar green eyes wided into saucers. Cole could feel his own follow suit.

“G-!?” It took all of his will power to snap his jaw shut before things got out of hand. Green’s shoulders visibly sagged with relief. Cole let out a controlled breath.

Shit.

It’s a good thing Wu told them to practice lip reading on their own time, or else they would be screwed.

Well.

They kinda already are anyways.

“Are you okay?” Green asked. Huh. Okay. Nevermind then. This can work. Probably.

“Yeah.” Cole winced. “Okay, maybe not.” The Blue haired girl and Hoodie laughed. Green frowned.

“Physically or mentally?” Hoodie asked, snorting, they definitely sounded like a girl. Cole thought to how completely discombobulated and so not okay he was when Jay first ran into him. And the the wound on his hip and on his shin, and the dull ache in his head. Oh yeah, and there was also Green, unmasked, sitting literally a few yards in front of him.

“Both?” Cole shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I’ve been going through some shocking stuff lately, it’s quite similar to what’s happening right now actually-”

“What?!” Green interrupted. Cole rolled his eyes.

“Gee, dude. Don’t get your skinnies in a twist.” It took a second for what he said to click.

“Did you just insult my skinny jeans? How dare you.” Chuckles all around. Cole barked a laugh as he shifted to get more comfortable.

“I’m assuming you two know each other?” Blue hair asked. Green bobbed his head.

“Yep. Have for years.”

The girl grinned. “Sweet. I’m Katelyn,” She introduced.

“Solana.”

Okay. Blue hair is Katelyn, and hoodie is Solana. Good to kno-

“Lloyd.”

Hoo boy. Green’s name is Lloyd. Cool. Definitely remembered that.  Definitely didn’t expect that. Like how he didn’t expect Blue’s name to be Jay or Red’s to be Kai or Gray’s to be Nya. Sweet.

He really needed to get his thoughts in order.

“Cole,” He grinned. “I’d shake your hand buuut, y’know.” Katelyn and Solana laughed. Lloyd gave a small amused smile.

“Yeah yeah that’s great all, but did you ever stop to wonder what the hell is going to happen to us?” Grumpy guy one snarled.

Cole shrugged. “Nope!” He flashed an award-winning smile. “Because life is all Cupcakes, Rainbows, and Unicorns!” Grumpy guy two rolled his eyes.

“Jeez, you have major issues. Go see a therapist.”

Yeah, Cole probably did need a therapist.

“He does have issues,” Lloyd agreed. Cole gasped at him in mock hurt.

“What? No! I thought we were friends?!” Lloyd rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, right.” Cole gasped again.

“What do mean? Has four years meant nothing to you?” Lloyd bit his bottom lip to prevent a smile breaking across his face. A feat in which he ultimately failed as he burst into giggles. Cole smiled.

“I just don’t understand. How are you kids so calm?” The elderly woman, oh hey she was there too, asked. Lloyd gave a tight smile.

“This isn’t the first time.” The woman gasped.

“Oh my! Are you alright dear?” Cole chuckled.

“He’s fine. He just has a knack for getting into these types of situations, like, waaaaay too often,” he explained. “It’s unhealthy how often he gets kidnapped, really.”

“Oh my…” The woman whispered, eyes wide. Lloyd sent a glare towards Cole, who grinned in response. Katelyn frowned in his direction.

“Uh…Cole, was it? Are you okay?” Cole smiled at her.

“Oh, I am just fine and dandy! Like a dandelion!” Lloyd narrowed his eyes at Cole, trying to come to some conclusion. Suddenly, his eyes widen.

“Shit.” Everyone gave him a look.

“What..is it?” Solana asked hesitantly.

“I think they drugged him or something. Look.” The group of hostages stared at him in disbelief. Cole giggled.

“Don’t do drugs kids!” Grumpy guy two rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Yep, he’s definitely got something in his system.”

Well, at least it explained why his brain was being so weird. And fuzzy. Could your brain feel fuzzy? Like, when it felt fuzzy, if you were to take it out of your skull would it feel fuzzy to the touch? Or would it still be slimy? Do brains feel slimy? What do brains feel like? If you have a headache and you were to take your brain out of your skull, would it hurt if you touched it? Wait, that’s not how the world works. Is it? Pretty sure it isn’t, but magic shouldn’t be real, so. Is magic real? Did their powers count as magic?  And why was he thinking about this? Instead of something productive like….. waffles?

Yeah, safe to say, Cole’s brain was fucked up right now.

It also was tired of having Cole conscious, apparently.

“.. Cole…an…ou..ear….e….ole!” Cole had time to briefly wondered if that was supposed to be concerning before succumbing to the darkness of his mind.

~~~~~~~~

Lloyd was having an….off day. First, he gets kidnapped (again, which was so not cool), then because of that kidnapping Black’s identity got compromised, though rather silently so, and then apparently they had drugged Cole (He was 99% sure his last name was Brookstone) and then he had passed out!

Safe to say, this day was not going how he planned.

“Cole? Bud? You wanna…wake up? Or…no? Okay. That’s cool!” Lloyd gave an experimental tug at the ropes binding his wrists together. A grin crossed his face when he felt them loosen. Working quickly, he had his hands untied in record time. He paused midway through the rope around his feet when he was suddenly addressed.

“Wait, Lloyd? How the hell did you get your bindings undone so fast?!” Katelyn exclaimed, bewildered. Lloyd shrugged, pulling the rope from around his ankles free.

“They weren’t on too tight,” He replied, moving to untie the bluenette. The girl in question scooted away from him.

“Nuh-uh! You deal with Cole first!” Lloyd flushed.

“Yeah, I probably should’ve thought of that first.” He crawled over to Cole, only to blink in surprise when he was met with a half-lidded gaze and a dopey smile.

“H-Heeeey, Lloydy-Lloyd~,” Cole smiled drunkenly up at his friend. Lloyd, in turn, began to undo his bindings. “Why are you always getting kidnapped?” The Black Ninja asked, in such a serious and innocent voice that it took all his unknown will power and then some to not burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“I don’t know, Coley. I don’t know,” Lloyd replied as he began to undo Solana’s ties, smiling at her when she thanked him.  

“Why are we so unguarded? Shouldn’t we be worried?” One of the older men asked. Lloyd threw his hands up in frustration.

“Gee, chill! You’ve done nothing but be angsty since we got here! And sure, we have a basically drunk Cole, an old lady, a child, three teens and two grumpy grown men, but we can still do this! Okay, now that I’ve said that out loud I realize that we might be screwed! But! I believe in us as much as I believe in my ability to not give good pep talks!” Lloyd exclaimed. Everyone laughed at that.

“Haha! Oooh, we’re so gonna die,” Solana chuckled nervously, running a hand over her neck and pulling her arm up into a stretch. Lloyd (lightly!) punched her shoulder.

“Hey! Don’t think like that, we’ll make it out fine!” Lloyd assured. She nodded hesitantly. Working quickly, he soon had everyone untied and standing (Cole was leaning on him).

“And if we don’t make it out unscathed?”

“We’re probably going to die anyways.”

He snapped his head around.

“Seriously guys? You’re supposed to be the adults here! I thought you were supposed to leave the angst behind as a kid!” Lloyd threw his hands up, slowly letting them fall down in defeat. “Ugh! I’m so sick and tired of you two!” Lloyd takes a controlled breath. “Listen. If we want any chance of survival, you two are gonna have to get your shit together,” He growled. They stared at him in surprise. “And collectively, you two have a lot of shit. And said shit is currently strewn about all over the place. And, if you want us to live, and if you want your own hairy asses to live, I’d highly recommend getting said hairy asses in gear and start getting your fucking! Shit! Together!” Lloyd snarled, his voice rising in power and volume towards the end.

To Lloyd’s left, Cole giggled. “Here I was thinking Jay was the one to make witty and snarky remarks in tense situations like this one,” He remarked. Lloyd felt his blood run cold. Jay. Witty and snarky remarks. Tense situations like this one.

Fucking hell Blue’s name is Jay.

And Cole somehow knew that.

“Though, he did get better after he and Kai started dating,” He mused. “I mean, they had some issues to work out beforehand, obviously, but they managed.” Cole straightened suddenly and turned to his self-proclaimed pillar. “Hey, did you know that Skylor placed bets with Nya on how quickly Kai and Jay would get together? Those two girls are crazy, I tell you. Craaazy.”

No.

Fuck no.

Lloyd wasn’t having an off day because he got kidnapped.

He was having an off day because Cole just fucking revealed the identities of all his teammates but White right here right now.

Jay was Blue.

Kai was probably Red.

Which meant Nya was most likely Gray.

Holy shit.

Was it possible to go through midlife crisis in your teens?

Because that’s certainly what’s happening now.

At least Cole have the decency to look apologetic.

“Oh, sorry man. Should I not have said that?” Lloyd shook his head.

“No, more like shouldn’t know that. At all.” Shaking his head once more, Lloyd cautiously approached the door leading out of the trapezoid shaped room. Testing the knob revealed that it was unlocked, and the door swung wide open, accompanied by a grunt and a thud. Instantly, a guard turned around the corner, gun raised. Lloyd’s Ninja instincts kicked in and he moved, disarming the guard and putting him in a chokehold, letting go on only when he fell unconscious.

“Wow..” Solana breathed. Everyone was in shook, save for Cole, who just giggled.

“Man, can I have your number after this?” Katelyn exclaimed. “No romo though,” she hastened to add on.

“Same, same. I want-no, need, a kick-ass friend in my life,” Solana said, a grin slipping on her face. Lloyd grinned.

“Oh please, that’s the least I can do.” Cole giggled again.

“It’s true!” Cole, guess what, giggled, again.

“Okay, but let’s cut the chatter, we don’t know what’s up ahead,” Lloyd commanded, slipping into his leader persona. Slowly but surely the group made its way forward down the hall, Lloyd in the lead. Up ahead was another door, this time though, Lloyd was prepared. So when he threw the door open, he was ready for the two guards that came rushing in. He had them disarmed and unconscious and no time, and looking past the door revealed another hallway with a door at end, a staircase barely visible beyond that.

“So, do these people have like a, hallway fetish or what? Cuz I’m like 99% sure they do,” Cole said, and, you guessed it, giggled. Again. Lloyd snorted.

“Maybe,” He replied softly. Cole suddenly turned to him with a serious expression on his face

“Look man, I sorry I outed the team-I mean, our friends like that.  I know you really really didn’t want to know, and Skylor and Nya made me promise not to tell anyone but… y'know, things happen, amiright?”

So, that was his team confirmed. Good to know.

“You are right.”

As they neared the top of the stairs, Lloyd held a hand out, signaling the group to stop. Creeping forward, he didn’t see anyone. After looking around for a bit, he realized that no one was standing on the roof. It was completely abandoned, and completely suspicious. Stand up straight (hah), he took a moment to admire the sky.

So engrossed in his task, he didn’t notice the new and brightly colored arrivals until Red landed literally right in front of his face, which prompted his to scream-

“HOLY SHIT!”

Yeah, today was so not his day.

[so um..i was bored, and tired last night, curing daylight saving for stealing my sleeping in time when i wrote this. literally i only vaguely remember writing this, and tbh i have no idea what this is, but its funny and related to earbuds so i thought id share]

ahhh This is great dude!!!!!!!!!! I’m sorry it took me a while to post I haven’t had much time to read with my finals happening :,DD but fuck man!!! I love the action in this, finally cole and zane get some fuckin screen time in earbuds-verse. Thanks so much for writing and submitting this, I love reading shit other people write in this setting QwQ <333333333

[chronicfangirling]

Crystal Snow (Yoongi ver.) - Crystal Clear

Pairing: Yoongi x OC Genre: Romance, encounters with beautiful idols, impromptu dates, Christmas kisses--no mistletoe necessary, koi no yokan, love and its possibilities Words: 3687 Summary: It seems like the only way to have a halfway decent Christmas Eve in Seville is to become Min Yoongi’s one-night girlfriend. Not like that’s any cause for complaint.

Crystal Snow (Christmas with hyung line) Seokjin ver. | Yoongi ver. | Hoseok ver. | Namjoon ver.

(2017 December 24)

"Excuse me?" Mayu raised an eyebrow at the stranger standing behind her at the restaurant line.

"I said, 'Do you have a boyfriend?'" the man repeated shamelessly.

Mayu bristled; it was bad enough having to line up outside a restaurant in the chilly night just to have dinner on this Christmas Eve that she ended up celebrating all by her lonesome--she was in no mood for some idiot trying to pick her up. Before she could tear him a new one, a deep voice drawled: "Come on hyung, leave her alone."

She turned to the shameless man's companion gratefully, but instead of thanking him, she took a few moments to appreciate his countenance. He was pale as snow, lean to the point of being slender, and his face a bit too pretty to be called handsome, but his intensely cool demeanor overrode his almost delicate appearance. To put it simply, he was her type. Not even the shock of platinum hair framing his face could detract from his appeal--she normally hated outrageous hair colors with a passion, but he looked criminally good with it.

Smiling, she started to say her thanks, but the beautiful man added: "Does she look like she has a boyfriend?"

Feeling as if she had been shocked with a bucket of ice-cold water, she sputtered: "And what do you mean by that?"

"I only meant that you wouldn't be lining up for dinner alone if you had a boyfriend," he clarified, meeting her fiery gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. "If you somehow drew negative implications from that logical assumption, that's wholly on your own insecurities."

"Wow," she scoffed, tossing her bouncy bob over her shoulder and tightening her olive-green woolen jacket around herself. "Well I wouldn't presume that you don't have a girlfriend, but if you did, then I feel sorry for her having to put up with such a man."

"My non-existent girlfriend thanks you for your concern," he deadpanned.

"Come on, come on, come on!" his nosy companion grabbed the beautiful man's hand and then Mayu's, and put them together. "Yoongi," he addressed the beautiful man, "the important thing is you don't have a girlfriend, she doesn't have a boyfriend, so you can be each others' girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Excuse me?" Mayu yelled this time.

"Why would we do that?" the man called Yoongi muttered.

"Because this," Yoongi's friend gestured wildly at the Korean restaurant they were all standing in line for, "is one of the only restaurants open in Seville--all of Spain, really--on Christmas Eve, and right now they're prioritizing couples on this romantic holiday because for some reason, there are waaaaay too many people craving Korean food tonight!"

"We can pretend to be a couple, hyung," Yoongi suggested.

"Ehhh..." The other man grimaced.

"He's right," Mayu agreed. "This is Europe, no one would care."

"Weeeell, the truth issss, I can't join you for dinner."

"Why?" Yoongi glared at him, suspicious. "Wait--you made plans with that tour guide lady."

His companions's chuckles cracked high-pitched with guilt. "I did make plans with the tour guide lady and she invited me to a party, and I know you're not fond of parties."

"Abandoned... by my own manager," Yoongi grumbled.

"I'm not abandoning you, I'm leaving you in the company of this gorgeous young lady." The manager turned to Mayu, his hands pressed together in a pleading gesture. "Well, what do you say?"

"Huh?" She cocked her head at them.

"He may be snarky and cold and too skinny and kinda short and a workaholic..." Yoongi's manager started listing the man’s attributes off his fingers.

She looked Yoongi up and down. "Do you have any good points?"

"Apparently none." He scrunched his nose--rather cutely, in her opinion.

"Aww..." Giving him a sidelong glance, she decided to test the waters with a mild compliment. "You're kinda cute though."

"That I know." He smirked.

"Let's add 'lacks modesty' to your list," she teased.

".. and has the fashion sense of a grandpa as well as the energy levels of one--where was I going with this?" The manager scratched his head.

"Are you selling me, or sabotaging me?" Yoongi snorted.

"Oh yes! But he's very talented--not only is he a rapper, he's also a producer." The manager slapped Yoongi's chest and patted his pale cheek, as if he were a prize calf. "If you don't like his unconventional good looks, you can still benefit from his bank account."

Mayu snickered. "I'm a lawyer, so I think my bank account will be fine, thanks."

It was Yoongi's turn to look her up and down, and it actually seemed that he liked what he was seeing. "Impressive."

"I know." She gave him a triumphant smile.

"Let's add confidence to your list," he quipped.

"Please, take him!" Yoongi's manager begged. "He's Min Yoongi, rapper and producer extraordinaire! That's good enough for most women."

"Min Yoongi..." Her jaw dropped, and it took her a few moments to regulate her shock. "You mean, that Min Yoongi?"

"So you've heard?" His manager simpered in pride. "Yoongi, you're really the best!"

"You're a fan?" Yoongi asked, barely holding in a smug grin.

"My friend likes your group," she replied nonchalantly.

"'Your friend?'" he goaded. "It's okay to admit it."

Before Mayu could retort, the manager clucked his tongue, groaning. "Ah, it's because you don't care for Yoongi, right? Most women prefer the younger ones, I'll bet it's Jimin for you, isn't it?"

Yoongi and Mayu frowned at him incredulously, as if to ask 'why are you still here??' Yoongi waved off his manager: "You know what, just leave, I can get myself a date just fine." He ducked away when the older man attempted to kiss him on the cheek, retaliating with an air punch. His manager ran off, shouting thanks, and he nodded, both in exasperation and affection.

"A date?" She crossed her arms over her chest, a corner of her mouth quirked in a half-smile.

He shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything, Atty...?"

"Ishii. Ishii Mayu." she said, enunciating each syllable.

"Atty. Ishii Mayu, this is shall we say, a contract relationship?" He leaned closer so his face was mere inches from hers. "You've watched dramas, haven't you?"

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curled in a full-blown smile, at the thrill of amusement--and something else--this man's brazenness effected. "I have, but more importantly, I'm a genuine lawyer. So, what are the terms of this contract you're proposing?"

"Purpose: to get a dinner table on this god-forsaken holiday--no offense." He pointed at the designer watch on his wrist. "Duration: from now until the end of December 24. Other conditions: physical contact to be negotiated as necessary." When her eyebrow shot up at those words, he pointed out: "It would be weird if we didn't so much as hold hands on this very romantic night, wouldn't it?"

She conceded with a nod. "Anything else?"

"Maybe a confidentiality clause?" he mumbled.

Remembering that this was an idol she was talking to, she said in a serious tone. "Of course."

"Are we clear then?" Yoongi asked.

"Crystal." She offered her hand. "Shall we shake on it?"

They clasped hands, but the restaurant host stepped out to survey the line at that moment, and Yoongi and Mayu stepped close together, smiling and cuddling for his approval.

"This is necessary physical contact, right?" Yoongi muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Right." Mayu squished his cheeks between her hands, giggling when he scowled at her.

But that seemed to do the trick, since host smiled and called them over. Exchanging conspiratorial looks, the contract couple headed for the door but a beefy fellow blocked their way. Mayu recognized him as the man who had been in front of her in the line about an hour ago, but he had stomped off with his girlfriend in impatience.

"What the fuck?" He roared. "We just stepped out of the line for a minute and now you're stealing our spot!"

Undeterred by the fact that the other man had at least half a foot on him, Yoongi glared. "If you stepped out of line, you're out of the line." She felt him pat her hand assuringly when she clutched at his arm in alarm.

"What was that, punk?" The brute hauled up the collar of Yoongi's leather jacket in one hand, forcing him to stand on tiptoe.

The brute's girlfriend examined Yoongi's face and squealed in recognition. "No, oppa! Don't hit Yoongi-oppa!"

"Why are you calling him Yoongi-oppa?" Shaking Yoongi, the brute demanded: "Are you seeing my girl behind my back?!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Yoongi griped.

"I'll kill you!" The bully screamed.

Mayu gasped when the brute reared back a fist. I can't let him hit a top idol's face! Mustering whatever remnants she could recall from her self-defense lessons, she kicked the attacker's shin. "Kya!" He howled and grabbed his leg, dropping Yoongi. The girlfriend wailed in horror at what ‘Yoongi-oppa had done.’

Without missing a beat, Yoongi choked out: "Run!" They reached for each other's hands at the same time and dashed away, before the brute could recover or the girlfriend could obtain any evidence of Yoongi's identity. Mayu pulled him with her, off the main street and into an alley, and Yoongi followed, trusting that she'd know the city better. They came out into a different plaza, stopping under a street sign, and with the burst of adrenaline finally fading, she dropped to her knees. Yoongi was also wheezing, but remained on his feet, and he instinctively held her hand tighter when she attempted to pull it away to support her unsteady body. She glanced up at him in surprise, and he dropped her hand.

His sharp eyes were wide open as he blinked rapidly. "That was... an emergency, so... necessary physical contact, you know."

"Well, what now?" she asked "Don't you just want... to go to your hotel--for the restaurant!" She shrieked, when he blinked even faster at the word 'hotel.'

Yoongi finally calmed down and murmured: "Yeah... hyung and I had the bright idea of renting an AirBnB instead of booking a hotel. There's nothing there..." Her stomach growled and they avoided each other's gazes. "Err... there's cup ramen though..."

"I could've been in Geneva right now." she mumbled. When he raised his eyebrows in question, she continued: "I had a three week trip planned, to make the most of the holidays, but my friend promised to come here and celebrate Christmas like we always did." She scowled, remembering how her best friend had gotten tied up in work and missed the flight. Mayu had half-heartedly said it was okay, but the more pathetic her Christmas Eve had become, the angrier she had gotten, and she ended up muting her friend on her phone in a snit. "But she flaked out."

"Ah... people like that are the worst," he huffed.

"No, she's not!" She protested. Yoongi looked at her like she was crazy and she sighed. "I'm annoyed at the situation. Honestly, I'm the one who flakes out on her a lot, but she's always there anyway. She really wanted to come here, but her terrible boss made her work... and now she's stuck at the airport... because she wanted to spend Christmas with me... and now I just... really want to eat chicken and strawberry shortcake, because it's Christmas Eve, you know??" She bit her lip, but the run had sapped her of all her energy, and she couldn't hold back the tears. As she sniffled, Yoongi looked round and round as if he would rather be anywhere else.

"Err, umm--wait here!" he yelped, then ran away.

Mayu shook her head. It wasn't like she was in the condition to go wandering anywhere else. Calming her breathing, she looked around. The plaza was strung with colorful lights, leading towards the church. It appeared that the service had ended a while ago--a few stragglers were shuffling out. She stared longingly at a family huddled together as they walked home, and then at a group of giggling girl friends. Swiping at her tears with the sleeve of her jacket, she resolved to head back to her apartment and sleep off the rest of the night. Yoongi had undoubtedly run away from her sudden outburst--he obviously had more than enough drama in his idol life, and she really should've given him a break.

But when she rose to her feet, Yoongi was standing before her, a plastic bag in one hand, and the other outstretched for her to take. "Come on. "

She wanted to ask him why he came back, but instead, she pointed at the plastic bag. "What's that?"

"Food. Now come on." He grabbed her limp hand and led her away purposefully.

"Where are we going?"

He hadn't answered, but even after fifteen minutes of trailing after him, she didn't attempt to leave. It wasn't like she had anything better to do anyway, and... she wasn't about to pass up the chance to be with Min Yoongi, wherever it is he may want to take her. They reached the back of an unusually tall, very old building that had probably been built before city regulations, and he gestured at her to climb up the fire escape. She glowered at him, almost mistrusting that he might ogle her ass in her skintight jeans, but when her foot slipped and he steadied her, she realized that he had only intended to watch out for her. The thrill from earlier returned--accompanied by a fluttery sort of warmth.

They reached the top of the building, and Mayu saw that it towered over most of the other structures and provided a perfect view of the city lights. "Nice," Yoongi declared, walking close to the edge.

"That's one way of putting it." She ran past him, and leaned over the edge--she noticed that he had stepped close to her, almost protectively. "This is amazing!" she cried.

"My manager's lady friend recommended this point. Everyone knows about the view atop the Parasol, but it's not free, overrated, and more importantly, closed right now." He waved a hand along the glittering horizon. "Not a bad view to have with Christmas dinner, isn't it?"

"Not at all." she confirmed.

Yoongi set two rickety chairs that had been abandoned on the rooftop side-by-side and wiped their grimy surfaces down best as he could with a wad of paper napkins before motioning for her to sit. "So don't expect much, since this is just takeout from an Asian grocery, but at least it has rice." He handed her chopsticks, a water bottle and a canned coffee, and a takeout container filled with a chicken quarter on a bed of rice, and took his own set so they could settle down for their meal.

Mayu clapped her hands together. "Itadaki!" They each took a big bite of the soy chicken, chewed, and paused. In unison, they broke into laughter.

He cringed. "It's Chinese food but..."

"... it tastes like it was made by someone..." she continued.

"... who has no idea what Chinese food is supposed to taste like," he finished. He shook his head but ate another mouthful.

"Yeah. But it's not bad, just... different." She tucked in the meal in earnest.

"As they say, hunger is the best spice," he commented wryly. They finished the meal in no time, and he pulled out a takeout carton from the bag. "I have something to make up for that fail." He opened it to reveal a slice of strawberry shortcake. It was slightly battered--the frosting had stuck to the sides of the carton, and the strawberry was hanging lopsidedly--but it was the most beautiful slice of cake she had ever seen in her life nonetheless. She gazed up at him, her lips parted in wonder, and he faltered. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"That's... strawberry shortcake?" she muttered, rather dimly, though she knew that it was.

"Yeah... you better eat it all!" He blustered too loudly, as if hiding his embarrassment. "I begged the staff in the store to give me a slice because my Christmas Eve girlfriend craved it."

Lopping off the portion with the strawberry with her chopsticks, she took a mouthful and moaned in appreciation. Yoongi's cheeks actually seemed to turn pink. "Now this tastes like Christmas!" she chirped.

She smiled at him--not in intrigue, nor amusement, but in unadulterated joy. Yoongi stared at her, then caught himself, coughing and glancing away. But he peeked back when she started blinking erratically at the view. "Err... what are you doing now?"

"Imagining that they're fireworks. Christmas isn't Christmas without fireworks. That’s how we celebrated... at home."

"If you miss home so much, why are you here?" he asked.

She sighed. "I... I'm not actually a lawyer. I mean, I have a law degree and I passed the bar exam but I'm not practicing law. I had this lofty dream of making the world a better place and ridding it of social ills with justice. I thought I had a clear vision of my future, but the more I studied with disillusioned professors and hotshot lawyers that only looked out for self-interests, the more muddled it became. Then finally, while I was doing my internship, I realized that if I tried, I'd just be one lone snowflake wailing against the hell this world has become. And I got scared." She bit her lip, as she turned back to him. "Did that sound..."

"No, I get it. From the beginning, I wanted to use music to expose the pretenses people lived by," he said. "And I understand why you ran away, but that wasn't an option for me--I vowed I'd rather die than give up. If I had to compromise and become and idol to do it, then I would." He gentled his tone when she tensed. "I'm not judging you. I'm saying the paths we take through this world are rarely straight... so even if you're running away now, it doesn't mean you're done."

"It doesn't, huh..." she whispered.

"Why, are you done?" he challenged.

"No." She shook her head and grinned. "That's something that I realized here. My best friend... she's counting on me too. She has always believed in me, and always says that I can make the world a better place."

"I miss my friends too," he admitted. "Like family, sometimes I want to be rid of them--that's why I went on this trip alone. But in the end... I can do what I do because they're by my side."

She wasn't sure which was to blame--the breathtaking view, or that dodgy chicken, or the sweet strawberry shortcake--but her heart thundered with the urge to take a chance. She scooted closer to him. "So this is outside of the terms, but since it's Christmas Eve it's like... well, it would be presumptuous to call it a present, more like a token?" She flicked a hand, and as she expected, he followed the movement with his eyes--when he looked back at her, she was a whisper away from him. He startled, but didn't back away, so she brushed her lips against his.

When she drew back, he asked: "What was that for?"

"Nothing, I just thought you deserved a kiss," she said.

"Hn." he grunted, twisting his lip in a sneer.

"'Hn?!'" she huffed. "I'm not under the illusion that my kiss is the best thing in the world, but it certainly warrants more than a 'hn.'"

"Hn... that wasn't a kiss." He nudged her chin up with two fingers. "This. Is a kiss." There were no hesitations with him--his mouth moved over hers and nibbled at her bottom lip--needy, wanting, and demanding. She whimpered as his tongue chased hers, and worrying that he'd take it as protest, she grabbed at his jacket lapels--but her fretting was for nothing, since he merely pressed closer, angling for a deeper kiss while wrapping his arms around her waist. They were both panting when they pulled away, and his eyes had darkened as he leveled a domineering look at her.

"Was that clear?" he questioned.

"Hmm... you know what, I'm not sure..." was her lilting response. It had the desired effect of riling him up and darkening those keen eyes further.

"Hmm... we can't have that now." He seized her into another kiss and she ran his hands through his bright hair, tugging him against her body. Lost as she was in the sensations of kiss after kiss, she didn't hear the ringing phone until the tone bleared louder as it went unanswered.

She mumbled against his lips. "Your phone is..."

"Ignore it," he breathed and kissed her again.

Yet his manager's voice stabbed into the silence of the night: "Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi--"

It took her pressing against his chest to halt him and make him give his phone attention. "I'm going to kill him, what did he do to my phone--what?" he barked into the offending device. "Then change the flight! Ugh... I forgot about that." He ended the call and looked at her apologetically. "My group has a show tomorrow night and we still have to rush for our flight."

"Oh, I see." She caressed his cheek to convey her understanding.

He stood up and said. "Come on, we'll take you home."

"Oh, you don't have to do that--"

"The terms say until the end of December 24, right?" He beckoned her with a hand. "What kind of boyfriend won't take his girlfriend to her apartment as he leaves her in a strange foreign country?"

"And what kind of girlfriend won't understand when her idol boyfriend has to rush to a schedule halfway across the world?"

But she took his hand and followed him down the building and into the waiting car, driven by his manager. Her apartment wasn't too far, and his manager had the foresight to park a few paces away to give them a few moments alone. Yoongi walked her to the door and they stood face-to-face on the sidewalk, both unwilling to be the first to leave.

"Goodbye then." Mayu said.

"See you when I see you." He slipped a plain white envelope into her hands.

She shook it. "What's this?"

"You gave me a present." He smirked and swiveled on his heels, walking back to the car. "It's only fair I give you one."

She opened the envelope and found two VIP passes to a February show in Tokyo. And a note that said: 'Bring your next boyfriend, if you can find one.'

"Jerk," she chuckled, looking up to stare at his retreating figure. Without a glimpse back, he waved once, got in the car, and sped away.

The path seems much, much clearer now...

"Wait til that girl hears about this." Mayu then recalled she had put her friend on mute, and hurriedly retrieved her phone, changing the settings and reading the last message.

"I'm on my way... and I have the most incredible story to tell you."

She smiled and typed her own response. "I guess we'll be trading incredible stories then, princess."

[enrychan]

so after 146+ hours of the witcher 3 i’m starting to understand why i like this game but i don’t love it and i’m not so into it like so many people are. i probably think about it waaaaay to much, but since the game had a ton of perfect scores from many reviewers i wanted to understand why it didn’t click so well for me. and I mean, on a purely rational point of view the game is incredibly good and lovingly crafted in every detail, from the writing to the graphics, from the soundtrack to the animations.... it’s all really good. so why can’t i bring myself to love it?

- the first problem I have with the game and with the series as a whole is... uh, geralt. i don’t hate him, and sometimes i love his dry humor, but for the most part he is too generic and bland and also, well. a man. a straight white guy like 145482554 other in every video game ever. the dialogue options are also very few. this is a “role playing game” (in theory) where the role is not mine to play at all. granted, in other RPGs there is only the illusion of choice, but it’s there. i can play along. with geralt the confines are way too restrictive, and the role the developers impose on me is too different from myself and/or whatever character i would like to create, for me to enjoy the experience as i should

- then there are the women and how they are treated in this universe. first, all the women geralt has some relationship with are apparently top models, and all have the same kind of beauty: white, skinny, perfect hair, perfect face, small nose, plump lips... you get the idea. i love Yen, I adore Ciri, and i like Triss, but honestly they all look like barbie dolls to me. on the other hand I can’t remember even one male character of some relevance so perfectly and conventionally attractive except maybe for geralt himself. but this is not even my biggest issue with the women in this game, my biggest issue is how they are treated by the narrative. from beginning to end, a lot of female characters are violated, brutalized, humiliated... men experience violence for a variety of different reasons but women are constantly targeted for their femininity and/or their relationship with men. that’s honestly exhausting after a while. especially for a person who had and still has very serious problems within the family like me, and plays games to escape - not to face other similar situations all over again in a fucking video game

- there is almost no diversity at all. I get that this land is supposed to be similar to medieval europe, but black people and brown people were always there, they were just much less represented in art. in the witcher 3 everyone, and i mean everyone is as white as snow. the only poc i remember were the ofieri from the hearts of stone dlc, and they are extremely few. also no LGBT at all. like I remember I met a character i thought was gay at some point, but then nope. the writers made sure he had his chance to clarify that he wasn’t gay, because that’s important

- the sex scenes are shoved down your throat, and sometimes that’s even detrimental to your roleplaying. I wanted my geralt to stay faithful to Yen, but the hearts of stone dlc almost forced me to accept the sex with Shani. like i rejected her a number of times in a number of dialogues and STILL the game insisted to put me on those rails - in the form of gaunter o’dimm of all people - telling me to “seize the day” or whatever. what’s worse, just minutes before the ghost of vlodomir von everec called geralt “a pederast” because I choose the dialogue option “she’s just a friend”. that’s... some pretty bad and offensive writing right there, for my standards? is it just me?

- the last point came to my mind only recently, while playing the blood and wine dlc. toussaint is aesthetically amazing, and it made me realize that for my taste, the entire game should have been like this. and I don’t mean “set in a fairy tale world”, i mean “set in an interesting world”. that’s one of the reasons why i love The Lord of the Rings and its movie adaptations so much. you get your epic scenery, high snowy mountains, enchanted forests, a beautiful white city built on seven levels, an immense, desertic region dominated by an enormous active volcano.... but even its most “domestic” set, the Shire, has beautiful bright colors and weird little houses with round doors. the diversity keeps the public engaged. i have a lot of problems with dragon age inquisition but for the first time in the series it gave me something like that. for the first time i actually thought “thedas is wonderful and diverse, i want to see more”. on the other hand, the witcher 3 has way too much muddy countryside to do that. for me, fantasy must be wondrous, it must transport you into another world, a different world. it must make you look at a landscape and feel emotions you would never feel irl. obviously that depends a lot on where you live. i imagine someone who lives in the US would feel very differently from me. but for someone like me who lives in europe and specifically in italy... pretty countryside and small/medium medieval towns are extremely common. they don’t make me go “wow”. toussaint finally gave me that, it made me think “this is amazing” and “I want to stay here”. too bad it’s only a DLC and not the entire game.

and that’s about it, more or less. this post is much longer than i intended, but whatever. i still like the game. these are just a few but unfortunatly kind of important issues that ruin the experience for me, at least in part. it makes me kind of sad because i adore the rpg genre so TW3 is so close... and yet so far. I hope CD projekt red will do better with their next game, even in areas they didn’t consider much in TW3 like diversity and respect of the player when it comes to romantic/sexual matters.

[dontmockmyawkwardness]

Me and some Inkheart rambles.....

So, if you know me, like really know me (*cough cough* @daisyishedwig) then you know how much I love Inkheart. These past few weekends, I’ve had to travel 8-14 hours for rugby matches. On these bus rides, one of my favorite things to do is read & watch Inkheart. And the more I do, the more thoughts I have.

I have watched this damn movie waaaaay too many times. Probably at least 20 times. I’m awful. I remember the first time I saw it, it was just my mom and I and another couple sitting in one of the side theaters at my hometown movie theater. The movie wasn’t a blockbuster and it wasn’t completely true to the book, but that’s okay! As far as guilty pleasures go, this movie is one of the most pleasurable.

There are many things I enjoy about the movie and also many things that bother. Right now, I want to talk about the casting, which is a mix of both.

Casting I liked:

Meggie - Okay, I have the biggest crush on Eliza Bennett. I think she is the prettiest person ever and is so cute and pretty and sweet and funny. I love her as Meggie and honestly cannot picture the character any other way now. Love love love.

Mo - Brendan Fraiser is the perfect Mo. Literally who I pictured as Mo when I was reading. Also, the older I get, the more fascinated I become with Mo as a character. 

Dustfinger - Once again can’t picture anyone besides Paul Bettany in the role anymore. He stole the show.

Cockerell - Surprising, but I think he was the best Black Jacket, the most villainous one that is, in the movie. Exactly how I pictured him when reading the book.

Mixed Feelings

Capricorn - I still don’t know how this movie attracted some really big names. Like seriously, Andy Serkis?!?! I didn’t like how the movie made the character a bit more cartoonish than whole-heartedly evil, but Serkis does a really good job at playing up the threatening nature of Capricorn. He looks evil also, which, you know, is scary. It does bother me a little how much shorter he is compared to Mo.

Elinor - freaking Helen Mirren was in this cast! How? HOW? Honestly, I think Helen Mirren looked like the perfect Elinor. I think I just really dislike the character of Elinor a lot. They made her way too cartoonish in the movie. Just way over the top.

Farid - I don’t feel any particular way toward this casting. I’m glad they didn’t cast someone too old for the role though. Overall, Rafi Gavron has grown on me over the course of my re-watches. 

Darius - Eh, not many thoughts. They changed from book-Darius, who was suppossed to be small and skinny and skittish. But John Thomson as Darius, thought not physically similar, does capture the essence of the character.

Casting I did NOT like

Basta - I freaking hate Jamie Foreman as Basta. He doesn’t look intimidating or threatening or look like he should be taken seriously at all. The mustache, the slicked back hair, all of it is awful. He’s short and rotund and not at all like the tall, lean yet muscular Basta that seemed so life like when reading the book. Hate hate hate movie-Basta.

Flatnose - Such a freaking cartoon in the movie. Like, I understand that the character is literally named ‘Flatnose’, but they didn’t have to make him a complete and utter doof in the movie. A freaking doof. I hate it. I’m sorry, Steve Speirs, but they ruined that character in the movie.

Fenoglio - Once again, it’s more of the character I hate, but Jim Broadbent did play up the cartoonishness of the character. Plus in the book, he’s supposed to be older and skinny and more frail.

Okay, there, my thoughts on the casting and characters in the movie. Glad I finally wrote this all out. 

[lifeinsidemyheadphones-blog]

Sup Tumblr World . . .

Hi my name is Jamie Hamilton and the most horrible part of being 16, is people suck. I’ve decided to start writing this blog as a way to deal with how much people suck. My friend Cali (I really only have one good friend If I’m being honest) thinks people are amazing and the best part about this life, but I think the complete opposite. She said I need to learn how to connect with people again. Apparently being a loner is frowned upon these days.  So here goes nothing. I think this comes from my family. . .  my mom, though she works hard, is kinda a crappy mom. Even with no dad in the picture, you would think a mom couldn’t be crappy. I love her, don’t get me wrong, but I find I am the only one with a responsible bone in my body. If my mom had more money and worked less shifts at the nursing home, maybe things would be different. But they are not and that is just the cold hard truth.

I do need to make one amendment to my whole people suck philosophy, my brother Ethan is the most *** I can’t think of a descriptive word that describes how awesome he is*** person I have ever known. Of my seven siblings, ranging from 20 - 3, he is the only one I think I couldn’t live without. Sometimes I question whether or not I actually love my siblings. See what I was saying about people sucking . . writing that I don’t think I love my siblings. . . that’s messed up. But Ethan, it is totally different. I know that I love him.  Without him, I would not have survived this long. He understands me in a way I never knew another person could. Sometimes I wish he had wanted to stick around in my own personal hell hole, but he had the brains to get out while he could. That’s another story for another time though. We still talk. Don’t fret about that! We really connect through music. I need music in my life. It really is my only interest other than singing. I guess that’s kind of connected, but I find I become a different person when I sing. When I listen to music, I feel different emotions and events. But when I sing, I go into another world. I forget about all the crap at home, and all of my responsibilities, and transform into a confident and beautiful person. Too bad I can’t be like that when I am just being my regular self.

Oh, this is kind of awkward. I should probably let you know, that despite my blonde hair and blue eyes, I am far from a beautiful girl. I can’t paint the picture that I am this amazing singer with a face that matches my voice, because I am not. My biggest problem is my acne. I don’t know why I get so many zits, but my face just seems to love them. I also am waaaaay too skinny.  No matter how much I eat, or how much time I spend in the sun, my skin will stay translucent. I am pretty sure, people can see right through me. Hahaha figuratively and literally. Did I mention I am funny? And slightly over dramatic. But only in my inner monologue. In person, I am so quiet you wouldn’t even notice I was in the room unless I face plant or accidently fall into inanimate objects. You would think that with all of my “womanly duties” at home, that I would have developed some form of balance and grace, however I think I may or may not be a reincarnation of a – well I don’t know what, but something REALLY clumsy.  

        Remember when I mentioned Ethan leaving? Let me tell you about that, because I’m pretty sure, that’s when my life started to fall apart. (Not that it is fully fallen apart now, I’m fine, don’t go having a social work freak out on me . . .but yeah know. It could be better). When I was 11, Ethan had just turned 15. Baby daddy number 4 had just left my mom and things were rough financially at home. I remember standing in the kitchen doing the dishes when I heard a huge smash. Mom and Ethan had been yelling for hours about stuff I didn’t really understand. But after I heard the smash, I went upstairs to see what had happened. I put my littlest sister in the playpen and quietly climbed upstairs. Ethan was crying (which he never did) and my mom was just staring at me. Ethan’s head was bleeding and he was packing a bag. He came over to me, ruffled my hair and walked downstairs. I followed after him, completely ignoring my mom.  Ethan kissed my siblings and then walked out the door. And then nothing . . . I didn’t hear from Ethan for almost a year. He eventually found a place to live and came back to visit once he got his sh*t together. This moment made me hate people. The only good person in my life was gone. And it was my mom’s fault.  I had a whole year to think about how it was her fault he left. Maybe that’s why I have such a hard time connecting with her. . . because deep down I blame her for ruining my life. But whatever. It is what it is. People suck and then you die. That’s how life works. Whoa. This just got heavy. I know I only started this account last week, but I feel like you and I had a connection and that if we are going to give this whole being friends thing a try, I should probably tell you about myself. Maybe I will tell you more about me later, but for now, stay tuned for more great music selections and memes I find hilarious. This whole talking about myself this is pretty new because I don’t really talk about my family life much. Except with Cali. She has been my friend for as long as I can remember, so I guess you and Cali will be the people I tell. So, if I rambled on excessively, hang in there. We had a lot to cover and I think I might have to force Tumblr to change the word max on these posts.

Don’t expect this much detail in the future. My brutal honesty and the amount of emotional depth was very taxing.  

Yours forever, (or until I regret everything I just wrote and delete this account)

        Jamie.

[kiddiemom-blog]

Pimento Cheese Recipe | Leite's Culinaria

This pimento cheese is a Southern classic made from Cheddar cheese, pimentos, sweet onion, and mayonnaise.

There is nothing about me that is remotely Southern. I can’t name the capital of Virginia. I have no idea whether Lee or Grant led the Confederate troops into battle (although I do know who won the war). And for the life of me, I simply don’t get the concept of boiled peanuts. For years my only primer to Southern society and mores was Gone With the Wind. And I’m not ashamed to admit that I have, when in a mischievous mood, borrowed from Scarlett O’Hara, that great icon of Southern strength and frivolity, when entertaining. See, our house in Connecticut has four ridiculous columns in front. It looks more like an antebellum home from the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon Line than anything remotely in keeping with the neighborhood. When we’re expecting guests known for their resilient senses of humor and hearty constitutions, I don my big floppy gardening hat, sit primly on the front stairs, and prattle on in my best Southern accent to no one in particular, peppering it with plenty of “fiddle-dee-dee”s. Vivien Leigh won an Oscar for her flibbertigibbet ways. I’m usually awarded a chorus line of shaking heads and pitiful looks as everyone steps over me on their way inside.

Video: How to Make Rebecca Lang’s Pimento Cheese

So earlier this year when I visited Beth Price, our director of recipe testing, in Charleston, South Carolina (which, I later learned, is not the capital of the state) for an LC gathering, I was literally a galumphing Yankee in a Southern belle’s courtyard. In those four days, Beth did much to instruct me in the ways of the South. I learned when to say, “Bless her heart” (that is, when someone is, well, basically hopeless). I found out how to conduct myself at an oyster roast (with abandon in one hand and a linen napkin in the other). And I discovered pimento cheese.

I have no idea why, but I had always thought pimento cheese was some inbred cousin of the pimento loaf—a vile delicatessen concoction of forced meat studded with pimento-filled green olives—that my grandfather Costa used to make me eat for lunch. But no. Pimento cheese, I was thrilled to find out, is reason enough to pull up stakes and permanently move to Charleston. For those Northerners who are woefully unacquainted with its bewitching ways, pimento cheese is Cheddar cheese mixed with mayonnaise, chopped pimento, and, depending on where in the South you are, various other seasonings.

The pimento cheese I practically devoured all by myself at Beth’s was from a recipe by food writer Rebecca Lang. I contained myself on the evening of the big cocktail party, instead welcoming Leite’s Culinaria folks and fans. But the next morning, when I arrived on Beth’s doorstep hungry and a bit hung over, it was a whopping pimento-cheese sandwich that she thwapped into my hand. And I am absolutely not embarrassed to say that throughout the day, I outmuscled and outmaneuvered her skinny adolescent son in order to get the lion’s share of the two 1-pound containers of pimento cheese she had tucked in the back of her fridge.

So a few weeks ago when I had a “hankering” (See? I start thinking pimento cheese and my best Scarlett begins to take me over, body and soul), I thought, what a lovely thing it would make mounded high on Carr’s Table Water Crackers for the holidays. So I called Beth.

“Puddin’, can you tell me, does that pimento cheese of yours work at a formal affair?”

I could practically hear her eyes rolling on the other end. “Well, Fatty Daddy, I’m serving it at a black-tie affair. Does that count as formal?” Damn, if only Faulkner could’ve been so witty, I thought, I would’ve read more of him.

Tonight, The One and I will ring in 2014—a year that I’m sure will be one of the finest ever—with crab and lobster and yet another largish bowl of pimento cheese. And when I wake up on January 1, there’s no way I’m going to have Scarlett’s famous 17-inch waist—corset or no corset. But that’s okay. After all, tomorrow’s another day. Originally published December 31, 2013.

Pimento Cheese

Adapted from Rebecca Lang | Around the Southern Table | Oxmoor House, 2012

After having consumed approximately half of Vermont’s supply of Cheddar cheese in the name of research, I’ve discovered that this pimento cheese recipe from Rebecca Lang is the best dang pimento cheese I’ve ever had. I also found that doing yourself a favor and making it a day ahead of time only improves the taste. The onion mellows, the pimento perks up, the color blends, and everything becomes, well, ambrosial. And it’s one less thing for you to do the day of when guests are on their way. And you can do waaaaay more than just slather the pimento cheese on crackers. You can also  set it out as part of a crudités platter, stuff it in sandwiches (whether petite tea party bites or gooey grilled cheese sandwiches), or perhaps even scoop it straight from the container at 2:00 a.m. as you lean against the sink. Not that I know anything about that.–David Leite

Mellow Yellow Cheddar Cheese Note

When a Southerner makes pimento cheese, he or she is usually pretty particular about the type of cheese. David isn’t a Southerner but he is plenty particular about his recipes. He instructed us to share with you that he uses white Cheddar, not orange. He prefers the flavor of white. Besides, you still get a lovely orange tint from the pimentos. We haven’t run this by the author of the recipe, Rebecca Lang, although we’re curious to hear what she thinks. Let’s see if she notices…

Pimento Cheese

1 pound sharp white Cheddar cheese (or if you’re a true Southerner, by all means, stick with orange Cheddar)

3/4 cup store bought or homemade mayonnaise

One 4-ounce jar pimentos, drained well

2 tablespoons grated Vidalia or other sweet onion

Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Crackers, toast points, crudités, or anything else you can think to serve with it

Directions

Pimento Cheese Recipe © 2012 Rebecca Lang. Photos © 2013 David Leite. All rights reserved.

This pimento cheese is very addictive! It's easy to prepare but the 2-hour to overnight waiting period is definitely difficult to endure. Your reward, though, is a pleasingly rich cheese dip that really shows itself off, especially at room temperature.

Using a food processor will save some time but I do recommend grating the cheese first. After that, put everything into the processor and pulse a few times until you get texture and orange color you’re after. I found some of the pimento from the jar were rather large, so if doing this all by hand, be sure to finely chop the pimento so they mix adequately with the cheese, mayo, and onion.

Although I divide my time between NYC and a little town in upstate NY, I lived in Atlanta for eight years in the ’70s when I became all too well acquainted with pimento cheese, although I don’t think I’ve ever had it made exclusively with white Cheddar, which I will be sure to try. Julia Reed discusses it in the epilogue to her hilarious and delicious Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties, where she quotes Scott Peacock as correctly pronouncing it “puhmenna cheese.” There is one brand of prepared pimento cheese that is (1) in every grocery store in Atlanta, and (2) pretty darn good, and when I found it in a supermarket in Williamstown, MA, I almost fainted and then took a picture of it with my iPhone to send to my Southern friends. It will not be as good as this recipe, I am sure, but if you want to know the name (this is not an advert), just holler. Happy New Year.

victoria@nycc, thanks for writing. (1) I just ordered Julia’s book. (2) Holler, girl! What’s the name of that prepared pimento cheese?

It is Palmetto Cheese from Pawley’s Island, SC “The Pimento Cheese with Soul.” It comes in Original and Jalapeño; both are good, but I go for the Original

If you don’t know her (and maybe you do), Julia Reed will move to the top of your list of people you don’t know who you want to hang out with to eat good food!

Happy New Year.

Thanks, victoria2nycc. I saw this when I was in Charleston. I wonder if I can get it up here in CT or NY? Happy New Year to you, too!

go to their website and they will tell you where you can find it in your zip area. Walmart and Albertsons have it around here – Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Yes, ma’am…just checked. Stop & Shop is supposed to carry, but they don’t. Bummer.

Does that mean a Care Package should be in the works?Let’s see who is closest to you ….I am sure we can manage to get some to you somehow. BTW, how could Stop&Shop NOT have it? Maybe someone beat you to the shelf?

I have no idea who is closest to me! I decided to order via Amazon. So, we’ll see.

Remember to take pictures for all the rest of us before you and The One devour the entire contents. I do hope you ordered more than one container! BTW, just another reason to make that reservation now, – we have Palmetto here and a good supply is on every shelf!

Karen, do tell: When is Casa Depp opening for the season?

Palmetto cheese is also available with green olives. You may only be able to get iit at their shop in Pawleys Island. I’ll check next time I’m in there, y’all :-)

Erin, that sounds fantastic! I’m on the hunt in Charleston.

As one who has lived her whole life in the South, I am glad we have another Pimento Cheese convert…Welcome, David!!!!

My darlin’, I thank ya kindly. I do, I thank ya kindly!

Richmond is not only the capital of VA and it was the capital of the confederacy too…..I know this cause I married a native Richmonder….Virginians have a hard time letting go of the past, but thankfully are moving toward being more “blue” politically, bless their hearts. Happy New Year to you & The One.

melinda, here’s to a more blue confederacy in 2014…or did I just start another Civil War?

Wish some of that Blue would rub off on Kansas – land of the backward Reds.

Dottie, I’m playing Switzerland on this….

Being from the South, I grew up on this stuff. Do try it stuffed in celery sticks and on baked potatoes too!!!

Baked potatoes! Carla, you are my newest goddess. I love the idea and i just may have to try it before the day is through.

Of course you stocked up on Duke’s Mayonnaise while you were down south, didn’t you, Sugah?

Cynthia, now you’ve got me sweating more than a hooker in church. No, I didn’t. It was good old Hellman’s. But I shall rectify that in 2014 and buy some jars. Gotta be politically correct when it comes to pimento cheese.

Dukes is the ONLY way to go, Cynthia!

David, you might want to try putting some toasted pecans in your pimento cheese sometime. Also, I like mine with a kick so I add cayenne and sometimes a dash or two of Tabasco. Smoked paprika, dill, and garlic frequently enter the mix as well. My grandfather put chopped green olives in his and I do that on occasion but only when I know my husband won’t be around, as he loathes olives. Happy new year to you and yours!

I love your ideas, Laura. Especially the Tabasco sauce. And smoked paprika. Olives shall never join the party in my pimento cheese bowl. That smacks way too much of pimento loaf for my taste. (What is it with grandfathers and pimento-ed green olives, anyway?)

You HAVE to try making Pimento cheese with roasted red peppers instead! Even more addictive!

Hmm, I will. But Beth Price practically made me swear upon a stack of bibles that I would use pimentos. (Honestly, I had such an aversion I had no idea there was a difference. I had to flip through my Food Lover’s Companion to discover there is indeed a huge difference.)

Whoa. Too much mayo for just a pound of cheese. A spot of dry mustard. A dash of Tabasco.

Really, tfiglio? How much do you use?

If I had to specify my last meal, it would be pimento cheese! Northern or Southern, it cures many ailments and puts many smiles on faces. Even better is a sandwich with honest real fresh tomatoes. Everyone should try this great stuff.

I couldn’t agree with you more, Cheree. Except my last meal would be whole-belly fried clams and lots of tartar sauce.

So sad and bothersome, and in reality grotesque, that you need to specify whole-belly for clams, anything else is just wrong! Also, folks might want to be made aware that their clam “strip” may not have any!

Amen, Sarah. Amen. Some folks (and I’m talking to my friends South of the Mason-Dixon Line, think clams strips are fried clams. They’re not! And…if you read my article about the fried clam trail in New England, you’ll discover than strips are really the sliced up “tongue” of the Atlantic surf clam. Blech.

Pimento cheese is one of the best things about growing up Southern. Try a touch of cayenne pepper and a little of the pimento juice to loosen things up. My dad adds a shot of Worcestershire sauce. One of the best things ever is a pimento cheeseburger. Make sure to toast the bun or, even better, use a sandwich press so it gets a little squishy and the cheese starts to melt. And boiled peanuts are the bomb!

Abigail, I like your suggestions. And the cheese burger is da bomb. Boiled peanuts…[shakes head trying to understand].

Oh, David, boiled peanuts are good. Really Really Good. It’s like crack-cocaine for me. Especially when the water is seasoned with brown sugar, salt, and a little cayenne.

Okay, ATNell, Renee, our ed-in-chief, thinks I’m crazy. I guess I need to special order some. I might have to give the Lee Bros. a call.

I suggest you try boiled peanuts too….I was very skeptical when I first encountered them, but now I am hooked……salty & wonderful

Do you have a source, Melinda?

Boil your own peanuts, it’s really easy. Just make sure to start with green raw peanuts (the best, but only in season around September/October) or dried raw peanuts (available year round). Boil them in lots of very salty water, about 1/2 cup salt to a gallon of water is a good starting point. Boil until they’re very soft. This will take between 1-4 hours for green peanuts, longer for dried. You can also use the slow cooker or pressure cooker. I’ve also had them spiced Chinese-style with star anise and chili pepper – very nice. And an Indian version where they shell the peanuts before cooking and spice them up with onion, tomato, mango and cilantro – that was wonderful. Do try it and get in touch with the legume side of the peanut.

But my question, Abigail, aren’t they all mushy? That’s what I never liked.

Tender, but not mushy. And if you make your own you can stop boiling them at the point at which you find them pleasing.

I gotta try this, Abigail. At least once.

Yes, tender and I would add “creamy.” A good boiled peanut reminds me in a wonderful way that it is indeed part of the bean family.

David Leite says:

See, that could kill it for me. The texture. Arrggh. Gotta make it and see what I think.

Vicki Ventura says:

David, as a transplant from CA to NW Florida, I was offered some boiled peanuts from a younger lady a few years back. Having never eaten them, I put a few in my mouth, then said “I believe someone’s already slobbered on these.” She asked where I was from, and she was NOT amused. I wasn’t, either. You either love these, or you don’t.

David Leite says:

Vv, I think I may fall into your camp….

Beth Price says:

Oh David, keep shaking your head. It leave more peanuts for me and Abigail and ATNell.

Frankly, my dear David, I don’t give a darn for peppers of any kind (or rather they don’t like me). But my TX aunt LOVES pimento cheese, so I will send her this recipe. And I may lose sleep tonight picturing you in your floppy hat sitting among the columns in CT. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

“As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again.” ― Margaret Mitchell, Gone With The Wind

Happy 2014 to you, too, Dottie. And damn it! I used the wrong GWTW quote. Yours is perfect!

If you are ever in Ann Arbor, Michigan you must try the pimento cheese at Zingerman’s. This stuff is unbelievable and at the Roadhouse they even make a mac and cheese with it.

Pimento cheese, mac & cheese. Amy you’ve got these old wheels a-turnin’.

I am from New Orleans David and all I can say is that in Virginia they make it wrong! That’s way too much mayonnaise (I use only my own that I have made); closer to 1/3 cup would be better. Add chopped pecans if you like (or don’t) but always add Tabasco sauce!

I can see it happening, AnnaZed. The South will go to war with itself over pimento cheese. I surrender! South Carolina and Louisana, have at it! (Love the Tabasco sauce, though.)

On “The Splendid Table,” Jan & Michael Stern found a place that–waitforit–made a pimento pizza. Yeah, baby, I’m all over that one since I’ve been make pimento grilled cheese for years now.

I like my pimento cheese made with peppadew (blasphemy, I know, but I like it), scallions, and a little bit of Worcestershire.

ATNell, from the variations I see coming in for this recipe, something is always going to be blasphemy to someone. But…pizza! I am all over that, baby.

Probably the place you are talking about was the Henpeck Market in Franklin, TN. They sold it and someone else now owns it. I haven’t been there since the new owners took over but I’m not hearing the same great things about it. BUT the original owners have another place now, sort of a take out gourmet food market called Simply Living Life on the border of Brentwood and Franklin, TN. Their pimento cheese has just barely enough mayonnaise to hold it together and a generous amount of freshly cracked black pepper. They made cold sandwiches with it, grilled, grilled with tomatoes and/or bacon – and they are all heavenly. After the Sterns’ Roadfood Tour of Nashville aired, I went there, and everyone fell in love with it. They did share their recipe and it is out there on one of the Roadfood boards – just search for Henpeck and you should find it.

To go along with our famous Nashville Hot Chicken, Hattie B’s (or their original restaurant – Bishop’s Meat ‘n Three) serve an absolutely heavenly pimento cheese mac and cheese.

Pimento cheese made with pepper jack cheese and additional pimento peppers is great. Or use a smoked cheddar. For parties, make crostini with baguettes then top with a mound of pimento cheese flavor of your choice and broil until the pimento cheese starts to get bubbly and the slightest hint of brown. Top with a sliver of bacon, candied bacon, jalapeno pepper, candied jalapeno pepper–or whatever other garnish sounds good. It’s also good just served in a crock with any kind of cracker, pita chips, and vegetables especially celery sticks.

Last but not least, a friend posted a picture of her and her grandmother eating homemade pimento cheese on an oatmeal cookie. Well, I had to try it so this past weekend I had both on hand so I tried it. First one I only put it on a little bit of the cookie and tried it. Wasn’t bad but I wasn’t sure. A little later I tried it again this time pretty much covered the whole cookie with it. Think I like it. So this leads me to a whole other avenue now – I am thinking ginger snaps or those thin Anna’s ginger cookies, the Rainforest types of crisps.

Um, MLinkinhoker, I’m gobsmacked. GOBSMACKED. All I can say is thanks. And I tried to link to as many places in your comment as possible.

Sometime you need to try a pimento cheese deviled egg. You just mix some of your favorite pimento cheese into your egg yolk/mayo/mustard mixture. It doesn’t take that much, and sends the eggs over the top and through the net.

Check, check, and check, Melissa. It’s on the list.

for boiled peanuts, you have to get em fresh (dont think they’d ship well, and certainly not canned…ewww) they seem to be plentiful in SC, so a trip south is in order

Hmmmm. I may be in a pickle then. I don’t know where to get them fresh up here.

A TRUE fat man needs nothing more than a spoon, my friend.

Whaddya trying to say there? I’m not a true fat man?

As a Southerner born and bred, welcome to the pimento cheese lover’s club. I have to agree with you on boiled peanuts. Also would add to my no list hoppin’ john. We always had black eye peas on New Year’s day but not with rice. We had it with pork roast, sauerkraut and lots of chopped green onions. Yum! 78 years later I have never missed black eye peas on NYD. Right now mine are soaking ready to be cooked tomorrow.

Happy New Year

mfasy, thank you kindly, ma’am. We were supposed to have blacked-eyed peas this morning (a recipe from my cookbook), but a certain someone who shall remain nameless (The One) forgot to soak them last night. Arrrrrgh! Happy New Year to you, too!

you could make your own boiled peanuts! you do know your way around a legume, and i suggest making a savory and a sweet batch. i too was a naysayer…til i had some good ones. (not purchased IN the gas station, but from the stand OUTSIDE OF, and maybe a few yards down the road from, the gas station. i’ve never made my own, which is part of why i’d love for you to figure it out and teach me how to do it right! :) i have made pimento cheese many times and as long as you have the cheese, pimentos/peppers, mayo and onion right (some swear by adding in some cream cheese, which is also good) you really can’t fail.

julia knox, I just may have to add the recipe to my 2014 mastery list of recipes. Let me think on it!

Ain’t no Southerner ever turn his nose up at my pimento cheese which I make with my own roasted red peppers. I douse them with olive oil and sliced garlic and let rest for a day or so. Then chop, along with diced jalapenos and add to cheese with, of course, Duke’s mayo. I was born and bred in Brooklyn, but Duke’s has it all over Hellman’s. (PS-I love boiled peanuts, too.)

David, I’m late to this party, but I can answer the Duke’s question for you if no one else has. The company will ship. Four jars to a case and price includes shipping. I grew up with Duke’s, and nothing else comes close except homemade. I’ve ordered it direct from the company for years. (That, and Luzianne tea, but I can get that out here in the west now.)

And I agree with whoever said that is quite a lot of mayo in the recipe. Half a cup would be plenty unless you want to go swimming in it…which actually sounds like a delicious idea. ;)

Thanks, Renee. I did order a jar of it. The One and are split. I liked Hellmann’s more. He liked Duke’s, which is weird because he’s been a huge Hellmann’s fans for decades. So now we switch hit when it comes to mayo.

And I didn’t find the cheese was swimming in it. But then again, I never was a good swimmer!

Would I lose my dollar if I were to bet that The One has the lesser sweet tooth of the two of you?

My Other Half, who would choose pasta over dessert any day of the week, has never had anything good to say about any mayo, even homemade, but even he will accept Dukes in things like tuna or potato salad — although it took a Herculean effort on my part to even get him to taste it.

If I can’t get my hands on Dukes, I will use Hellmans (Best out here), but I find I have to cut the sweet factor elsewhere in the dish.

Ah, the power of suggestion. After reading all these comments, I had to make some last night. Pahmentah cheese on celery sticks, now there is the flavor of nostalgia.

Actually, it’s pretty much a tie, Renee. We both love sweets, but I can go for savory more than he.

Why, David O’Hara, how ever did you live so long without “puh-MIN-uh” cheese?! Your recipe is sound, but I’d throw in another 1/4 cup of mayo. Maybe I’ll send you my recipe. Oh, and feel free to keep it in the fridge up to a week — can’t kill this stuff!

Oh, fiddle-dee-dee, Jean. Why don’t you just send me your recipe, and I’ll see if I can stiff another pound down The One’s gullet.

i am so pleased, David, that you have discovered the pleasure that is Pimiento Cheese. I waxed rhapsodic about it once years ago on my own blog recounting my discovery as a young bride exiled to the Northeastern U.S. that not everyone knew of this particular delicacy. I find it endlessly amusing how something so humble that we Southerners have enjoyed all our lives has suddenly become a nationwide sensation. Why, I’ve been eating Pimento Cheese since my Mama started me on solid foods ;-)

All I can say, lanaann, Is that’s one smart mama you have there!

I am so pleased, David, that you have discovered the pleasure that is Pimiento Cheese. I waxed rhapsodic about it once years ago on my own blog recounting my discovery as a young bride exiled to the Northeastern U.S. that not everyone knew of this particular delicacy. I find it endlessly amusing how something so humble that we Southerners have enjoyed all our lives has suddenly become a nationwide sensation. Why, I’ve been eating Pimiento Cheese since my Mama started me on solid foods ;-)

David, thank you for your kind invitation to put my “puh-MIN-uh” cheese in a comment. Here it is:

It calls for a third more mayonnaise than yours because I just reallyreallyreally like good mayonnaise, and it’s the particular combination of simple ingredients that makes my tastebuds sing!

Oh FL, Bless Your Heart! and all the rest of y’all too.

The only way to improve on any Pimento cheese effort is to add pickled jalapeños to the mix. Yes, pickled jalapeños! And whether you use styrofoam crackers or a great biscuit–you can never get enough of this stuff. Biscuits, corn bread, flour tortillas, ritz crackers, cocktail rye, fingers, spoons, or knives–any vehicle works. Champagne, Prosecco (Sita, that was for YOU) or best–local icey cold (yes, in the middle of a snowstorm even) beer. What a feast! Happy 2014 Everyone. Now Y’all go get to the table!

Well, Karen, I believe that about says it all, don’t you think?!

Oh Sugar, we girls don’t “think” at all about stuff like this. Really. Just sit back and enjoy – and yes, those boiled peanuts are the best. Honey, we need to get you back down here so you can have some more good fun. If you don’t like them boiled, just throw a few salted ones in your Co-cola bottle, give it a shake, and you’re off to the races!

Now, tossing salted peanuts into my Co-Cola bottle is something I did as a kid. Now, tell me, girl, you got a spare room for The One and me?

Sugar Pie, I always have a place for you and The One! And biscuits, and pimento cheese, and grits and shrimp, and coconut cake, and gumbo, and red beans and rice, and some bubbly to go with it all! Make your reservation now!

Having grown up in the South, I adore Pimento Cheese. I even use it to make Pimento Cheese Macaroni and Cheese – I have a major weakness for Mac & Cheese and consider it one of my top ten comfort foods. And I too use Duke’s Mayo and I add a touch of cayenne and a mix of sharp and extra sharp cheeses.

Darn you, Susan. I’m at my parents’ home in New England, and now I’m just aching for pimento cheese mac & cheese. Thank ya, very much, missy.

This DOES sound very good. Recipe??

Unfortunately, I don’t write anything down but as a general guideline, I make the usual mac & cheese base with a milk sauce thickened with a light roux. Instead of adding grated cheeses, I add an equal amount of homemade pimento cheese and an extra dash of cayenne or Siracha Sauce and bake it. Then top with crumbled, crisp bacon.

I soooooo have to make this, Susan!

I have some strong southern tendencies from my mother’s side of the family. When I was pregnant with my daughter in Las Vegas, I suddenly had the urge for a pimento cheese sandwich. Of course, being pregnant, that reads as: NEED. ONE. RIGHT. NOW! Luckily it only took 2 stores before I found a tub and soothed my dairy craving! You have inspired me to make some homemade–I shall share it with my daughter, who is now almost 13, and marvel how quickly time passes!

How wonderful, Bloominanglophile. And, hmmmm. I get that NEED. ONE. RIGHT. NOW. feeling all the time. And I know we gays are big on equality in everything; I certainly hope this doesn’t mean I’m preggers….

So glad you discovered Pimento Cheese. It’s a staple for sure. As a personal slant on the wonderful stuff, I use Extra-Sharp Cheddar and I do not drain my pimentos. I think the tiny bit of liquid in the jar adds to the overall flavor. Plus, I love just a pinch of celery seed. I’m kinda known for my Pimento Cheese around my hometown, and I’m always happy to whip up a bowl for a special soiree or no reason at all. I even have an antique bowl that I’ve labeled my “Pimento Cheese” bowl.

Sounds wonderful, Anne. Do you use Duke’s, too?

No, I use Hellman’s. I live in Louisiana and Duke’s isn’t readily available. I think Hellman’s is just wonderful. Another thing I didn’t mention, chives. I like to add just a scattering of chopped chives from my little herb garden and then mix in. It’s a fresh green addition.

I use Hellman’s, too. Anne. I do have a jar of Duke’s in my Amazon cart. When I get enough items in there, I’ll pull the trigger and order. And chives sound great. I love chives, and we have tons in the garden.

Anne, I live in Louisiana too! And I use Hellman’s (or Best if I am in Utah!) unless I am feeling especially patriotic and then I use Blue Plate. OR – ta da – Tabasco Mayo which is really really good in Pimento Cheese.

Hello Karen! I’ve never used Tabasco Mayonnaise but on your recommendation I’m going to try it. I’m sitting here conjuring up several ways Tabasco Mayo would be terrific, such as Deviled Eggs! Thanks…

I am betting you will love it. And it is just perfect in egg salad. And on ham and cheese sandwiches. And tuna salad? Yes. Back to Pimenna cheese – a dash of Steens Cane Syrup vinegar does wonders for it!

The new boyfriend specifically asked me to make this to bring to a Christmas Eve White Trash party this year. Being a dyed in the wool Northeasterner (coughcoughNewJerseycoughcough), I had never made it before. So I looked up a few recipes and produced the requested cheese. As I was spooning it out of the food processor into the bowl the new boyfriend called and asked how it was going. My response was “Is it supposed to look like cat barf?” He didn’t reply for a very long second but then said “I’m sure it tastes fine.”

kitchenbeard, and…and did it? Taste fine, I mean?

It was….. how do I put this…. unusual to my taste. I think I’d need to try it again but with more research and better ingredients than the stuff the BF got from Safeway. I’m still not convinced that it wasn’t supposed to look like cat hurl.

Ok, I’m going out on a bit of a pissy limb here — and remember, I’m terribly sensitive: Does mine look like cat hurl? I think not. Over mixing and over processing can grind the cheese into a near paste. Next time, mix all the ingredients together except the cheese. Then fold that mixture into the cheese. It will keep the integrity of the grate. (Damn, folks, I sound like a Southerner with a pimento axe to grind!)

Yours looks considerably better than mine. CONSIDERABLY! I may actually have to ask the above referenced boyfriend to watch me make it. He was under the impression you could make a ball out of it and I told him I think he was confusing it with port wine cheese.

Completely. Port-wine cheese is ballified. Definitely not pimento cheese. Do try again, kitchenbeard, and report back.

Bless your collective hearts! Do you not see what is wrong with kitchenbeard’s pimento cheese (besides looking like a sick kitty’s best efforts) attempts? Well, listen close now darlin’s: do not EVER put anything connected with pimento cheese makings into a FOOD PROCESSOR! This is not processed cheese food we are talking about here! It is Pimenna Cheese. Use a lovely silver fork to gently blend the ingredients together. Honey, you don’t have to beat the Devil out of it. Just gently persuade it all to play nice together. Now, go back into the kitchen and calm yourselves down, and try it again. Pretty please.

Karen, can’t you shred the cheese in a food processor? I did the second time I made it.

Yes, Sweetie Pie, you can shred the cheese in the processor BUT don’t try to mix all the ingredients in it whether you use the blade (ouch) or plastic thingamajiggy. It just smashes and mashes and pulverizes the blazes out of it — makes it look sort of like…well, you know what.

Nev-ah. Nothing but a light fluff with a fork for my pimento cheese.

OK, this comment is waaay off course with all the previous comments & threads, and hopefully I won’t be condamned (spelled that way intentionally) for asking, but here goes. Any comments or experiences on subbing the mayo with greek yogurt? Say, if you’re out of mayo, or you have a darling child who can’t stand the thought or possibility of consuming mayo; or just wanting to reduce the fat of mayo or not consume uncooked eggs, and so on … Born & raised (mostly) in Virginia here, my mom always had pimento cheese around, but sadly she’s not around anymore for me to ask her if she made it or bought it already-made (but I do vaguely remember some store-bought small glass-shaped glass containers with metal pry-off lids of the stuff that she’d bring home from the grocery – is that a mirage?) Haven’t made it myself in my adulthood yet, but I’ve got some major hankerin’ goin’ on now.

LenaB, this is a “condamn-free” zone, so ask away. I can’t speak to your questions, as I’m a neophyte. Perhaps some of our testers and readers can jump in? Folks? And remember–“condamn-free” replies only.

David, I keep coming back to read the comments on this one! Though I would never “condamn” anyone, here’s what I consider the best pimento cheese (You kindly invited me to share my recipe before, but I never got around to it!):

1 pound medium or sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded 1 4-ounce jar pimientos, drained and diced 1 cup mayonnaise 2 tablespoons chopped dill pickle 2 tablespoons dill pickle juice 1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

But I’m always open to people making substitutions. After all, *I* am not going to be eating it! I’d like to ask LenaB exactly what mayonnaise she (or a darling child) has had that she doesn’t like. There’s a lot of bad mayonnaise out there. If she does try it with Greek yogurt, I’d love it if she’d contact me and let me know how she liked it.

Mighty kind of you, Jean. Thank you! Here you go, y’all.

Ahh, thank you, David. A little new here and was really getting a kick out of reading all this “pimenna” (or puh-menna) conversation. I was jus’ messin’ around about the ‘condamning’ – just a poke at how passionate folks can get about ‘their’ regional foods. Just like the insistence about ‘proper’ variations of different foods – BBQ, Chili, Pizza, Peanuts, etc.

Until this conversation, I don’t think I realized that Pimento (pimiento?) cheese had mayo as a base ingredient – which makes me think my mom must have served the already-made stuff – sometimes transferred to a pretty little serving bowl for company & special occasions. Usually with those little Melba toast slices, or plain ‘ol saltines. I assumed it was a cream cheese/sour cream-mix type of base. I worked alongside her with all the regular meals she would make for the family, as I was always “in-training” for making her meals myself when she went to work outside the home. Although I remember her mixing up batches of lots of different things, I don’t recall her mixing up a batch of pimiento cheese.

Jean, as for my non-mayo-eating child – it’s just any mayo – period. She just gets grossed out by it, as does one of my siblings – so I guess maybe it’s an occasional hereditary thing. I recently subbed greek yogurt for mayo in an artichoke-spinach dip for the non-mayo child & my other kids, and she not only appreciated it, but all of us liked it quite fine. I’ll definitely let you know how it goes with the greek yogurt – if I had any pimientos in my pantry I’d do it now, but first a trip to the grocery is in order.

I have used Yogurt but usually mix it with some cream cheese-whole fat-non-flavored. Mix the two together b4 adding to make sure very creamy. Then I add Texas Pete and some cowboy jalapeno candy -stir into the extra sharp cheese = sprinkle a bit of salt and pepper.Stir gently-put on some good home made bread and sprinkle some “real cayenne pepper on top” not the stuff from the grocery store. Toasting the bread can be good so it is almost crispy or children usually prefer it soft. Make sure you let the bread cool first.Great for pic nics with little fried chicken wings. Both easy to pack and carry. Add a cheer wine soft drink :) and a moon pie or or oatmeal cookie for desert. Great thing about PC is you can change it anyway you want-or use what u have-any peppers that you can(pickle) will work or you just love. For me has to be Dukes mayo if you use mayo-nothing else compares. Personal note: b4 my husband became my DH (Sicilian) he loved fishing and this is what i would make for our lunch. So easy to pop in a cooler and just tonight he ask if I had any left for a midnight snack.Have fun with the recipes-use what you have-pepper cheese for example is just as good. Just dont let it be runny and much better the day after than not. If you use yogurt let it drain a bit or use Greek style. and yes- Southern born and bred and when im gone ill be southern dead.

Hi LauraJean – you read my mind on mixing the greek yogurt w/cream cheese, though I was thinking along the lines of the reduced fat/Neufachtel (sp?) variety. Just curious, when you say “real cayenne pepper–not the stuff from the grocery store”–can you please elaborate on this? Not sure what this might be. I lovelovelove spicy, but maybe not in pimiento cheese for me, but always game for variations!

Hi LenaB,

While I have never made “pimenna cheese” with greek yogurt, I say give it a try and see how you like it. Even after all our variations on the theme, I think the best pimento cheese is the one YOU like best. That is what is so great about it – we all love it no matter which version we create. And around here (Louisiana) I have friends who always add some vinegar and cream cheese to the mix of cheddar, pimento, and mayo. And guess what? It’s really really good that way too. So I would suspect that using Greek yogurt would be a good place to start and then add in whatever takes it to the next level for you and your family. Who knows, maybe even some boiled peanuts (that was for YOU, FL) would give it a certain zing!

Hi Karen – I hear ya on the cream cheese! I always assumed that was part of what made up the mix. And you’re right about food in general – you can make it what you like it to be! Thanks.

LenaB, not a mirage – the little glass jars were Kraft and they had several flavors, including pimento cheese. My parents used to buy them, even though my dad is famous for his pimento cheese. Go figure.

Thank you, Abigail, for confirming what I was thinking was my crazy imagination! I don’t believe I’ve seen those little jars in the stores in forever! And they made nice little juice glasses, too! That seemed like a cream-cheese type of spread, but it’s been a long time. I just know I liked it and I’m looking forward to mixing up some home-made stuff, now that I’ve learned a little more about it here.

Oh, dear me. Pimento cheese is a weakness for me. If you leave a batch in front of me (a good batch, anyway), I’ll eat the whole damn thing. I wasn’t born here, but I’ve lived in the capitol of Virginia long enough to develop quite a hankering for it. In fact, my friend made a documentary about pimento cheese featuring some special guests, and the premiere was a blast (with lots of pimento cheese to eat!) Around here, we say “pimenna” cheese, and we put it on and in everything. And we use yellow cheddar that’s been hand grated with jarred pimentos and Duke’s mayonnaise. Best served on Ritz or on a sandwich made with cheap white bread. Wheat bread and pimento is blasphemy. Don’t ever do that.

Kristel, cannot wait to whip up a batch of pimenna cheese, sit back, and watch the documentary. Thanks for the link!

Let me know what you think. And how many kinds of pimenna you’ve had by now. :)

Loved the documentary! Several faces I recognized as well as the packaging of the commercial pimento cheese (Stan’s) that’s in my fridge as I type. I’m a North Carolina native who doesn’t recall a day without pimento cheese. It was probably given to me by my dad on a saltine cracker once I started cutting teeth! I grew up using it as a condiment on hamburgers & hot dogs. My favorite summertime sandwich is whole grain bread with a couple of large slices of a ripe German Johnson tomato slathered with pimento cheese—I’m salivating now!

By the way, I’m a first time visitor by way of someone who commented on the Brown Eyed Baker blog. Loved reading all the pimento cheese comments–lots of people have definite opinions! Enjoyed reading them all!

Welcome, Debbie. I hope you enjoy our time with us!

Kristel, Thank you SO MUCH for posting a link to that absolutely charming little documentary. Someone on there even mentions boiled peanuts as extreme Southern food eating (which it is).

Out here in Southern California this displaced New Orleanian makes Pimmena’ Cheese. Though the Pimentos are hard to find, and I have more than once been reduced to considering picking them out of a jar full of olives; though it hasn’t come to that yet thanks to the interwebs. This delicacy is usually initially greeted with blank uncomprehending stares. Mayonnaise and cheese, what? Though this is soon followed by ooows and ahhhs and sighs of contentment.

The only other thing absolutely guaranteed to produce the same reaction (maybe even deeper incomprehension followed by bigger mouth reaction) is to produce a New Orleans debutant party Pickapeppa block. Extra points for those who know what that is!

AnnaZed, you are on!!! I have the Pickapeppa in my pantry and just did the block for New Years Day LSU watching! And I was in NOLA this morning for a meeting and lunch. How about Jezebel sauce????

Oh Karen, where ya’ at dawlin’; give this girl a pony!

My Mom used to have a method for making the Pickapeppa block that involved having the cream cheese very cold and already in the dish then pouring some Pickapeppa over it, refrigerating it, then pouring some more, refrigerating again – 4 cycles maybe – so it would have a nice thick Pickapeppa coat. That stuff is to die for.

I think Pickapeppa sauce needs to have a huge foodie love explosion and be loved and blogged about with praise and abandon by the food glitterati (like David for example!). The label with the parrot and the gold leaf is reason enough really. Basically it’s just a Tamarind catchup but amazingly complex. My parents lived in India before I was born and my mother claimed that in India they sell a similar sauce in a jar though I have never seen it. I am not sure that she is right though because the peppa’ component (if you will) has a distinctive Caribbean or even African vibe to me. Anyway, I could eat it spread on an old shoe.

On the other hand maybe not; probably you are not old enough to remember this, but in the 1970s there was said to have been a fire in the legendary Pickapeppa plant in Shooters Hill, Jamaica; causing an alarming worldwide (or at least Garden District-wide) shortage, hoarding, skyrocketing prices and some say lady fisticuffs. We wouldn’t want that to happen again.

A Jezebel sauce to me is an accompaniment to roast pork but my grandmother from Texas loved it on a Melba toast with cream cheese.

What is the deal with Melba toast? I kind of hate it (it’s too hard!) by my mother’s generation (born in the 1920s) thought it so sophisticated.

I, too, didn’t care for Melba toast. Always saw it when I was still living at home in CA, but haven’t seen it in YEARS. Maybe it was considered diet food back then. Did it go away? I had not heard of the Pickapeppa sauce, or the Jezebel sauce. The only stuff I’ve seen on blocks of cream cheese were the pepper jelly (in Amish country), and one aunt always put cocktail sauce (with maybe some lemon juice) that she’d added shrimp or crabmeat to, and poured it on a block, and served Ritz crackers with it. I’d make that now, except for I’d eat the whole thing, myself, within 2 days!!

My Grandmother (the Texan) used to make that Shrimp Cocktail Spread thing; very 1950s as well wouldn’t you say? It’s petty great in my opinion, except on Melba Toast–which yes has fortunately fallen out of fashion.

AnnaZed, yes, trés 1050’s. And perhaps you can lead a one-woman revolution to revive Melba toast…?!

Anna, I didn’t realize the cocktail sauce on cream cheese had been around that long. I didn’t see it till about the ’70’s. The aunt who first made it was a Navy wife, though, so she may have picked it up in a different geographical area than our little Monterey Peninsula. Of course, we may have just lived sheltered lives there…among those who were more worldly. Before that it was always the celery stuffed with cream cheese, and sprinkled with paprika.

Just watched the film – thanks for sharing the link, Kristel! It confirms some of my memories & ideas of ‘what’s-in-it?’, or confusion thereof! I saw close versions of the little glass jars I remember, & saw & heard lots of familiar sights, twangs & recollections! Thanks, that was fun.

I just watched the documentary. Very interesting, educating, and entertaining! Now I’m salivating for some pimenna!!

Okay, this is the first time I’ve made it (I’ve eaten it several times), and I used the basics, but something’s missing. Apparently the store-bought and convenience store sandwiches (yes, don’t condamn me) were made with added sugar, or SOMEthing. I grated Cheddar, put in pimientos and juice, and added mayo and black pepper, and tasted. No. Added some Miracle Whip. Better, but still something missing. Will have to check the label at the grocery store. And what’s with the spelling…either or? I’ve always seen it as pimiento. Guess that’s just the Spanish spelling.

VV, so sorry you didn’t enjoy it. Miracle Whip is made with sugar, so it would be sweeter. Regarding pimiento vs. pimento, I found this charming article in the Oct. 22, 1935 “women’s pages” of The Spokesman-Review.

I guess I like it somewhat sweet, is what I meant to say. I’m not really a Miracle Whip person…more a mayo person (except for deviled eggs, and then I have to do half-mayo and half Miracle Whip), but I used the Miracle Whip to see if that would give me the sweetness of the store bought version. Also, David, thanks for the article on pimiento vs. pimento. So, pimiento it is!

Vicki, sure thing. Although the article said the two versions of the word are often swapped. I don’t think you find many a Southerner pining for Pimiento Cheese!

Vicki, you need to add sweet pickle juice (and maybe a few of the sweet pickles themselves – or not) and that might achieve what you are looking for. I think of this as ‘Carolina Pimmena Cheese’. I had boarding school roommates from small town South Carolina and that’s how it was made in their kitchens.

Thanks, AnnaZed, I will definitely give that a try!!

I have heard Southern Belles on various sites go on and on about pimento cheese for years. I’m not a fan of mayonnaise, which is what kept me from it all those years. I bought my first and only taste and it was not very good. I don’t remember the brand, but it was greasy and bland. I’ll try your recipe but might use sour cream instead of the mayo. I am sure it will work as I garnish leftover mac and cheese with it to moisten it and it works wonderfully. So..based on that, sour cream it will be. I’ll report back.

Hey, Susan. Let me know how it works out for you.

Susan, the sour cream is a known and perfectly acceptable variation. Though somehow it just does not achieve the ‘ah’ on the palate that the classic does; for the mayo-adverse it’s better than the yogurt thing. Add some pickle juice or something acid. (just a tiny bit) to tip the Ph though.

Sugar Pie, aren’t you the sweetest thing to spread the word around about the delights of PC! The whole pimentos are more flavorful than the already-diced. Cut them up and add a bit of juice to your mix. A dab of Parmesan gives it a certain je ne sais quoi, but that’s a secret. Also, don’t ever use anything but homemade mayo as a binder.

Sweetie Love, just doing my Southernly duty–as a Northerner. You’re the first to say use homemade mayo. I thought that might have been trop haute.

As a current Alabamian, this is a staple at any tailgate (*roll tide*). My mom bases her recipe off the Southern Living one, but uses half regular cheddar and half extra sharp to give it a more balanced taste. She also adds a dash of worcestershire.

Down here we always like keep a jar of pepper jelly next to it for a little extra thrill on gameday.

Dana, I love the idea of the pepper jelly. Got to rethink things when I serve it next.

I make pimento cheese at least once a month – love it! I add prepared horseradish for zing and some sweet pickle juice for sweetness. (Old recipe from my Grandmother) Never added onion…I’ll try that next time!

I need to try horseradish next time, Sara!

Duke’s mayo is the ONLY mayo allowed in my house and perfect for pimento cheese. I didn’t notice that anyone used eggs in their recipe. There was never a real “recipe” but my grandmother always chopped up boiled eggs in hers and used a generous helping of mayo. It’s kind of like a pimento cheese/egg salad combo. I eat it on celery and on fresh white bread…at room temperature. Everyone thinks I’m nuts but if you let it sit out about 30 minutes before you are ready to eat it’s much better than eating it ice cold. Just one opinion of a true southern girl and you know what they say about opinions!

Penny, I’m not convinced yet about Duke’s Mayo. We did buy some but are on the fence. More taste tastes required. But…I do agree with the room-temp pimento cheese perspective. I think the flavors come out more when it’s warmer. (Colder foods require more salt and spices in order to be tasted.)

Yes, always at room temperature! In New Orleans one of the marks of a good hostess is pimena’ cheese nicely brought up to room temperature but not vile and obviously-left-out-for-hours at just the right time – it’s a challenge!

I am currently living in Australia and I couldn’t find any pimento so I subbed some roasted red peppers for pimento and it was very good and satisfied that craving for home. I have always used Hellman’s sorry. I didn’t grow up with Duke’s. I like the tangy twist.

Cleo, no apologies necessary. I know some people do use red peppers in place of pimentos. And right now The One and I are in the middle of a taste-test challenge between Hellmann’s mayonnaise and Duke’s. We shall see who the victor is.

Hello David! In the Philippines we call this cheese pimiento and the recipe I remember from childhood uses evaporated milk instead of mayo which makes it a bit more spreadable. Cheese pimiento is very popular both as a school snack and traditional fare at children’s birthday parties. No onions in the mix but some people use crushed pineapples (canned variety) for that bit of tang. For special occasions, we use Edam cheese (locally known as queso de bola) instead of cheddar for a richer, stronger taste. Thanks for this great post!

You’re more than welcome, Nonna. It’s amazing how far-reaching this recipe is.

Thank you so much. This really took me back to my childhood in Texas. We had pimento cheese often and its still a favorite of mine. I loved hearing all these southern voices.

Jane, you’re welcome. Yes, this recipe really struck a chord with readers.

The only thing missing with that pimento sandwich is a glass of sweet ice tea:)

Couldn’t agree more, Vicci.

I am thrilled to find this discussion on pimento cheese! I am a Chicago girl who fell in love with pimento cheese by way of Frank Stitt’s Southern Table Cookbook. The recipe is Miss Verba’s pimento cheese. I roast the peppers, and make homemade mayo, and it changed my world! A local bread baker makes a spicy cheddar bread that is an unreal match for pimento cheese, but it is good on anything. David, your blog is fantastic, I especially can’t wait to try your portuguese egg tart recipe. Thank you.

Lindsay, yes, we’re all pimento cheese fans around here. Thanks for the kind words, and I hope you enjoy the tart recipe.

The best pimento cheese recipe I have found. Dukes mayo is essential. I never stock any other in my pantry. Like other suggestions here add Tabasco- replace onions in your recipe with scallions. In this recipe, I reversed the salt and pepper quantities. This stuff is culinary “crack.” Highly addictive :-) Totally get the 2AM leaning on the counter eating it over the sink deal.

Making your own Pimento Cheese is a must and I can’t wait to try this! I found the tester, David Kraan’s comment “pleasingly rich cheese dip” too funny. It might be a Southern thang but Pimento Cheese is Pimento Cheese or Minna Cheese not some cheese dip. I make mine in clamp lid jars at Christmas & New Year’s to give to folks. I use a combo of Sharp Cheddar, Jalapeno Jack and Cream Cheese as well as a combo of Miracle Whip and Mayo along with roasted red bell pepper. But your recipe is up next!! Thank you Sir!!

Mali, I’m with you on pimenna cheese and this is one of my favorites!

I am from Oregon, learned about Pimento Cheese traveling in the South. I always use Tillamook aged white cheddar. Those other cheeses seem oily and bland. I use jarred roasted red peppers instead of pimentos. They integrate into the mix much more and I prefer the flavor. I was convinced to add 8 oz of cream cheese; I like the flavor and consistency. I add a fair amount of Worcestershire Sauce. Think I’ll try some microplaned onion. Like it for tea sandwiches on crust trimmed thin white bread, sandwiches on toast, in celery, and cold right out of the jar. Grating your own cheese is by far superior, but that food processor equals almost instant gratification. Bravo to who ever came up with Pimento Cheese.

Joan, there are as many versions of pimento cheese as there are people who eat it. I was completely immune to its charm–and, frankly, didn’t understand all the fuss until I tried it at the house of Beth Price, our director of recipe testing. I was BLOWN AWAY. (And I’ll confess, I ate an entire quart if it in a week. I know, shame, shame. But it was so freaking good.)

Ever make muhumarrah the Middle Eastern dip of roasted peppers and toasted walnuts? I like an aged sharp cheddar grated with butter — about 3 parts cheese to 1 part butter. Then I add muhumarrah to taste.

It’s about the same concept but muhumarrah has far more flavor and complexity than just roasted peppers. It’s pretty damned good!

PS If anyone hasn’t made muhumarrah it’s about time to discover it. It makes a wonderful Summer meal with some hummus, some baba ganoush and some flatbread.

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Ask D'Mine: Addicted to Benzos, Too Many Correction Doses?

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Ask D'Mine: Addicted to Benzos, Too Many Correction Doses?

Substance abuse with diabetes, doctors who don't like the way you're using your insulin pump — these are just a few of the prickly issues we deal with here at our weekly advice column, Ask D'Mine, hosted by veteran type 1, diabetes author and community educator Wil Dubois.

Send us your queries related to life with diabetes — nothing is off-limits here! (except of course specific medical instructions for your own care; that's what doctors are for)

Need help navigating life with diabetes? Email us at AskDMine@diabetesmine.com

Megan from California, type 1, writes: I am addicted to benzodiazepines, if you know what they are, and I'm wondering if the drug abuse can affect or be the reason I'm a diabetic now? I'm having a really hard time coming off them ... I guess my question is, can it affect my blood sugars?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: Oh yeah, I know what benzos are. But just in case some of our readers don't: They're a highly addictive family of depressant meds—tranquilizers in plain English—intended to counteract seizures, reduce muscle spasms, relieve anxiety, or serve as sleep aids. They act in a dose-dependent manner. Small doses have a mild sedative effect, middle of the road doses chill people waaaaay out, and whopping doses knock your lights out. Ummm... and I'm not even sure if I should mention this, but benzos are one of the media-hyped "date rape" drugs.

Worldwide, more than 2,000 different benzos are in production, but here in the U.S. there are 15 different types that are FDA approved including the trade names Ativan, Librium, Versed, Xanax, and my personal favorite: the 38-year-old blockbuster Valium. More than 108 million prescriptions are written for benzos in the U.S. annually, placing them at the number 11 slot of the top-20 most prescribed types of meds. For perspective, in sixth place, are anti-diabetes meds, with 165 million prescriptions. (Inquiring minds want to know the top three? In first place are cholesterol meds, in second place are antidepressants, and in third place are narcotic pain killers. Welcome to PharmaLand.)

Oh, and just so none of you judgmental-types mistake Megan for a low-life, benzos are handed out like candy by primary care docs, are highly addictive, and benzo addiction is a lot more common than you might suspect. Try this on for size: six percent of the U.S. population has abused benzos at one point or another.

In addition to being highly addictive, benzos have some nasty side effects from long-term use. As the drug's effect is on the central nervous system, long-term bad shit includes amnesia, hostility, irritability, and funky dreams. Withdrawal is also markedly wicked, not unlike the DT's suffered by severe alcohol abusers.

I remember my wife's grandmother, a sweet little old lady of 86 years old, had gotten addicted to very high volumes of Ativan prescribed by her primary care doc. She had been hospitalized for some other issue and the hospitalist (who must have gotten his medical degree in Mogadishu) stopped her Ativan cold-turkey, rather than tapering it down as any first year Resident would know to do. That night she attacked a nurse and pulled out huge clumps of the poor woman's hair.

She had to be restrained and we were called in.

Grandma had a wild-animal look in her eyes when I arrived on the scene, and she was convinced that I'd been replaced by an imposter. "That can't be Wil, he's too skinny!" (I had lost around 70 pounds following my diagnosis.) As we wheeled her out to the car she was screaming at the top of her lungs that she was being kidnapped by strangers. Oh, and she also started screaming that there was a bomb in the hospital and everyone should run for their lives. Interestingly, no one came to her rescue and no one ran for their lives. I don't know if that says more about our society or how respectable I look.

Moving on... did your addiction cause your diabetes? Well, we don't really know what causes type 1 diabetes, but I think we can be pretty confident that it isn't benzos or we'd have a helluva lot more type 1s on our hands. And let's not forget that benzo-addicted kids, while not unheard of, are a lot less common than benzo-addicted adults — while most newly diagnosed type 1s are kids.

As to the effect the benzos might have on your blood sugar, not much, or least not much that I can find. (Although apparently scarfing down a lot of carbs can make withdrawal symptoms worse in some people trying to kick the habit.) Of course, coming off of benzos is going to entail some serious withdrawal, which can be pretty grueling, as you know. I wouldn't be surprised if you had some trouble with blood sugar control during this time as your body will be putting up quite a fight.

For what it's worth, I did find one source, from the Japanese Journal of Pharmacology, reporting on a study in Brazil, on diabetic rats... and at this point I wonder if I should even go on? Oh well, what the hell: this study showed that if you give diabetic rats benzos it increases their insulin levels and lowers their blood sugar. But I couldn't even find out how many rats were studied.

So if anything, your addiction should help lower your blood sugar, not make higher.

That said, I think you should continue your efforts to get yourself clean, and to do that you need some folks on your side. You'll need to come off the benzos slowly. You'll need expert medical guidance, some counseling, and a ton of support from friends and family. And don't forget your online family. We're here for you, Sister.

Kellan from Ireland, type 1, writes: My endo wasn't impressed when he was going through my pump and discovered I was having up to 12 boluses per day. Even though I'm achieving much better numbers now than I ever was, he feels like I need to change this. If I'm achieving better numbers, then what's the problem??

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: For about 12 years, my mom's VCR flashed "12:00" all the time because no one could figure out how to set the damn clock and it really didn't matter because she never did any timed recording, anyway. Did that make the VCR useless? Heck no. She could still make Blockbuster runs or hit the record button to tape something she was watching.

Was she using the VCR wrong? Maybe. But who the f--- cares? It was working for her.

And speaking of little old ladies, I have a little old lady patient we put on a pump about a year ago (she chose the pink one). Epic medical politics were involved, as her primary care doc was in another city but couldn't sort out her diabetes so she sent the lady to us. We decided a pump was the best solution, but her particular insurance would only accept a pump prescription from an endo. Then the endo wanted the little old lady to see the CDE in the endo's office, and this particular CDE was a complete idiot. No really, she was. The patient was a type 2 but the CDE set the bolus limit so low the pump wouldn't give the patient any insulin at meals (type 2s need more). But I digress.

Anyway, this little old lady had, pre-pump, been doing absolutely terribly. Her A1C was through the roof and her blood sugar was highly variable. Like all over the map. Ambulances were called for lows. She spiked into the 500s. She was what I like to call a CTW: a certified train wreck.

Over a couple of months I got her back on track. Her mornings ran a hair low, 90ish, but stable, and her peak after-meal readings were coming in around 160. It was a frickin' miracle in my book.

But her endo had a fit.

Why?

Because she wasn't counting carbs and using the bolus wizard.

Did I mention this lady has had a couple of strokes? Or that her eating patterns are very uniform from day-to-day? I didn't think she was up to learning carb counting, so I did an end-run and had her use a flat-rate meal bolus from the pump. We got a good basal rate set up, and worked out an effective correction ratio for her rare high blood sugars, all of which were triggered by tangles with her alcoholic low-life daughter. (Not that alcoholics are low-lifes; this woman just happened to be both.)

Was I using her pump "right"? Not really. Did I give a shit? Not really. Look, a pump is just a fancy syringe. It's "job" is to help PWDs control their blood sugar to the best of their abilities. I was judging our success by our results. Silly me.

The endo blew a gasket 'cause we weren't using the pump to the fullest extent possible. She got so mad she yelled at my little old lady and made her cry. My patient came back to me with her tail between her legs, depressed and defeated that her 6.1 A1C and lack of ambulance rides just wasn't good enough for the endo. "I guess I have to learn to carb count," she told me.

Or we can use the phone book, I said.

"But how will the phone book help me count carbs?" she nearly wailed.

I won't, I said, but we can use it to find another endo.

So I'll confess to being willing to break all the rules. When it comes to health, at least, I do believe the ends justify the means. My mom's VCR served her just fine with no idea what time it was. My little old lady controlled her diabetes just fine using 10% of her pump's capabilities.

Kellan, I think if you have to take correction boluses 12 times per day it's true that your pump is not programed to its fullest capabilities. And I guess that in theory, if you took too many boli too close together you could "stack" your insulin and give yourself a down-stream low. But if you're not having lows, don't mind taking the 12 boli, and your diabetes is well-controlled, then the problem is your endo's, not yours.

Ireland, huh? I think you and your pump should go to the nearest pub, get out the phone book, and find a new endo.

This is not a medical advice column. We are PWDs freely and openly sharing the wisdom of our collected experiences — our been-there-done-that knowledge from the trenches. But we are not MDs, RNs, NPs, PAs, CDEs, or partridges in pear trees. Bottom line: we are only a small part of your total prescription. You still need the professional advice, treatment, and care of a licensed medical professional.

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This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

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