#and hes a bit more of a wimp in general in host

[creaturefeaster]

can mimes feel pain in host?

Absolutely, and for many who experience pain for the first time it can be overwhelming, even small amounts of pain at first. Mimes are adaptive and learn the limits of their host very quickly, but some mimes when they are hurt for the first time in-host eject themselves immediately out of shock.

[angry-geese]

Fluorescent Adolescent

Itadori x Reader x Sukuna

Warnings: sfw. platonic/romantic (interpretable). some minor swearing. mostly fluff. mention of violence. poly (sort of). Gn!Reader

Notes: Yuji and the reader have a movie night together. Sukuna decides to tag along

Nights at home were rare.

There’s not a lot of downtime when studying to become a sorcerer. Gojo was always sending you off on jobs that his students were very much not ready to handle. The line of work doesn't really follow a set schedule. Curses rarely exorcise themselves.

You haven't even graduated and you already wanted to retire.

You wanted to do something to celebrate your time off. Yuji suggested a movie night. You had nothing else in mind, and it sounded nice. The two of you thought about inviting Nobara. Movies weren't really her thing; she had other plans anyway. It wasn't often you got to hang out with just Yuji.

Gojo side-eyed you when you asked to borrow a movie. Your first mistake was asking him. The last time you borrowed one from him, the disc had been switched out with a porno. It took Yuji quite a while to figure out what was wrong. Nobara couldn’t pause the thing fast enough. Whether he forgot, or he did it on purpose, you’ll never know. You have the sneaking suspicion he meant to do it. When you gave it back the next day, Gojo never questioned why Yuji couldn’t look him in the eye.

Maybe that’s why Nobara passed on this one.

Eventually you settled on a horror movie. You're not quite sure what it was about. It looked gruesome. The cover had fake looking blood all over it. Despite being a jujutsu sorcerer, you were a wimp when it came to things like this. In the heat of the moment you could deal with it, but when it came to movies you were squeamish. It didn't matter how many times you told yourself that it wasn't real.

In the other room, the microwave beeps. The smell of burned popcorn fills the room. He likes his burnt; you can't stand the stuff. Two bowls had to be made. Both with a healthy dousing of salt and butter. Not the powdered stuff either; the real kind.

"You're going to miss it!" You call out.

"No I'm not!" Only a moment later followed by: "maybe I am!"

Yuji flings himself over the couch, just in time for the movie to start. Popcorn spills over the sides of the bowl, onto the couch and floor. He shouts "five second rule" before popping one into his mouth. Immediately you tackle him. He’s a bit stronger than you, and easily struggles free. It takes you nearly sitting on him to stop him. You have to pry the rest of the floor popcorn out of his hands like someone fighting their dog for an item it shouldn't be eating.

"Are you going to stop?” You ask. “Or are you going back for more the second I let you go?"

Weakly he nods.

The moment you let go of his wrists he’s lunging past you, reaching for it. In one swift motion you have him under you, pinning him to the floor.

The movie starts off with a creepy looking scientist, and two women stranded in a forest. You admit defeat, and collapse on top of him.

"Man I got hit so many times over this one," he offhandedly mentions.

"What?"

His response is a grunt.

If he says something out of pocket, it's best not to acknowledge it. He could write an entire novel about his life and barely scratch the surface. It’s almost impressive at this point.

It intrigued you, though. There were about a million questions you had for him. Asking one only brought up a hundred more.

The first thing you learned about Itadori Yuji was how he was Sukuna’s vessel. The second thing you learned was that he was going to die.

You were told not to get attached. Against almost everyone's advice, you did. So did many others. Yuji was truly strange. He didn't have the look of a man given a death sentence.

You often wonder how you'd react in his situation. Maybe you'd go to your death with a lot less grace. But there's no way of knowing until it happens. You like to think you'll go out in a blaze of glory.

Your interactions with Sukuna had been few, and only in passing. Aside from stories, you don't have much to say about him. Generally you aren't around when they switch. The one time you were, they didn't stay switched for very long. It still made you wonder. Since they shared domes, could Sukuna see everything that went on in Yuji's daily life? How much control did they really have over each other?

Sukuna would often switch out with Yuji while he slept. You expected that. He was unpredictable, and a bit of a prick. He's the king of curses after all. What more would you expect from a demon? Strangely enough, he never did anything. It wasn’t a proper switch, more like a particular hand or leg was taken over. Sometimes he'd knock things over, or hide Yuji's things, but he was never much more than an inconvenience. The guy could be a menace, sure, but he wasn't nearly what you expected.

He lays his head in your lap. Instinctively your hand finds his head, gently carding through his hair. It's strangely soft. It feels nice between your fingers. Sometimes you wonder if he dyes his hair, or if it's naturally like that. Come to think of it, you've never seen a baby picture- or even a childhood photo.

It's almost horrifying how quickly Yuji began to doze off. You sat there the entire time in wide-eyed horror. Maybe a bit of disbelief. If he feels the way your legs tense underneath him, he says nothing about it. He's snoring in no time. He can't help it, your hands feel so nice in his hair.

Unfortunately, you had caught Sukuna's attention too.

Nothing went on in Yuji's life without Sukuna listening in. Every little detail about his day to day life was known by Sukuna. Most days he didn't care to listen in. Unless there was a fight, or something to piss off, he wasn't interested. He was the first to realize how fond his host was of you. Immediately he started plotting all the ways he could hurt Yuji with you.

That plan was cut short.

He's not sure when it happened. Slowly you became worth something to him. Your strength was promising. If you continued on your path you could prove to be a truly frightening sorcerer. He found your will to fight impressive, albeit naive. At first it was a reluctant respect. You had promise. He could use that. Either against your or against other sorcerers, it didn't matter to him. You'd work in his favor eventually.

There was one moment that stuck out. One where his feelings went from a general distaste to fondness. You were fighting a curse, of all things. Although it didn't hit hard, it could shrug off a lot of damage. It wasn't particularly strong, but it was tough, and smart, proving to be a pain in the ass to everyone involved. With a snap of his fingers he could have exorcised it. But he didn't. Watching you two fight it was much more entertaining. If his host was killed, he'd simply bring him back.

Something went wrong. He's not quite sure what. The moments went by like shots out of a badly filmed movie. One scene. Then cut. Then the next scene. Then cut.

You're clinging onto his arm, asking if he's—Yuji—is okay. You weren't even hurt, but you were soaked in blood.

His feelings for you weren't disgust, or hatred, or even pity. It was something much worse. If he was capable of liking someone, it would be you. Sukuna could never imagine himself feeling this way for a human.

He hates that.

The affection he feels isn't love in a proper sense, but that's the only word for it. A creature like him isn't capable of love. He's the king of curses, he'll never lower himself to the level of humans. He'll never view you as more than a pet, but he cares for you in some sort of way.

Sukuna's affection comes out as bullying. Well, as much as a lone mouth can bully someone. You've learned to tune him out or brush him off. He's harmless around you. Yuji seems to keep him on a short leash. His bark is far worse than his bite. At least to you. You really can't say that for any unfortunate bastard that decides to piss him off.

Jokingly, you began referring to Sukuna when talking to Yuji. It was only to make him roll his eyes. Everyone hated when you did that, because usually Sukuna would respond. You tried to see how long you could get him to talk before he realized you we're screwing with him. It usually took a while.

Yuji's snores have gotten awfully quiet. The movie is less terrifying than you expected, but it makes your stomach churn. His eyes are open when you look down. They aren't Yuji's; they have a different look in them. Sukuna’s eyes have no humanity in them at all.

Both sets of Sukuna's eyes are focused on the TV. You're not quite sure when they switched. He made no show of it. One second he was Yuji, the next he wasn't. His hand rests on your knee, his thumb gently rubbing across your skin. He feels a bit colder than Yuji. You can’t help but wonder if it’s a curse thing or just a coincidence.

You try not to stare for too long.

"This is boring." He says. "You find this scary? Let alone entertaining?"

He doesn't like seeing you distressed, even if it's directed at something that isn't real.

"Yes, thank you," you say.

Maybe if you keep scratching his head he'll stop talking.

"Why do you like these? Clearly you don't like being scared." He says.

"Keep talking and I'll stop playing with your hair."

His sharp nails dig into your skin. "No."

"Then I suggest you stop talking,"

He sulks. It’s almost impressive how quickly you get him to back down.

He's a bit like a cat; the second your arms are tired and you need to rest, his fingers are digging into your skin. He doesn't want you to stop. The moments where he wants affection are ones where you can't—or don't want—to give it to him.

It's almost a competition between him and Yuji. His host is always so open with how he cares for you. You’re very affectionate towards each other. You’re affectionate towards all your friends. He finds it sickening. He wants your attention to be on him and only him. Yuji is only competition. Unfortunately for him—and you too, let's face it—they're a package deal. Sharing isn’t exactly a skill he has.

He shifts so he's sitting up, his head resting against your chest. Your heartbeat drops off for a second, before picking up in pace. You rest your chin on top of his head. Your hands find his hair, brushing it out of his eyes.

It's not long after his breathing evens out.

His head nods, eyes half shut, gaze still on the tv. You're so warm, he notes. He doesn't remember human contact feeling this nice. However hard he tries to fight sleep, it's no use, he can't stay awake for much longer.

For now, he would settle on sharing you if it meant he could have moments like this.

[jackrrabbit]

College AU drinking HCs /// Dabi, Shigaraki, & Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

A/N: A little background for this college AU—imo the PLF would be a social frat and the Shie Hassaikai is a professional frat (pre-med). Sooner or later I’ll write general college AU headcanons for them…

Tags/warnings: implied dubcon/drunk sex, alcohol, problematic frat culture things, pressure to drink, brief mentions of public sex/exhibitionism, drug use, a tiny bit of degradation, Hawks is vaguely in it too

Dabi

A basic frat bitch who drinks beer 80% of the time

Surprisingly he can’t tolerate cheap beer and is kind of a snob about people who drink shitty beer but he doesn’t bring it up enough to be annoying about it. Constantly blowing the frat’s alc budget on bottled beer instead of cans, not the super expensive craft bullshit but a step above Natural Light at least, right guys? Come on

Dabi always volunteers to go with Keigo (the frat’s social chair) to pick up the keg because both of them have a crusade against the cheap stuff—Keigo because he wants people to get drunk on it at parties and Dabi because he wants to drink it himself. They lowkey have a bromance over it and sometimes go to breweries together to fuck around and daydrink. The two of them are always trying new beers and will generally keep a different sixpack in the fridge every day—if any of the other brothers drink their overpriced IPAs by accident there’ll be consequences

Speaking of Keigo, him and Dabi are both into making jungle juice. They both get really excited about it, it’s kinda wholesome except they’re both just plotting on how to get cute girls like you as drunk as possible without realizing. They’ve spent a bunch of weekends together trying different mixes and recipes for the best flavor/alcohol content combination

Dabi is a whole ass heavyweight. He’s been getting drunk since he was like 11 so a couple rounds of shots are basically water to him. He can’t even remember the last time he was really, really drunk, he just gets tipsy now. And believe he absolutely uses this to his advantage

You’re drinking together? He’s going to fill up your cup every time he fills up his own, so before you realize how much you’ve been drinking, you’re five drinks in and swaying on the spot while Dabi is completely unfazed. He’ll tease you about having no tolerance to make you drink more

Drinking games!! Once again his tolerance gives him an advantage. He’ll pull some fake chivalrous shit like offering to drink for you on the first round of beer pong and then after that he’s just going to demolish you until you’re so plastered he basically has to carry you up to his room (which has empty liquor bottles lined up on the shelves as “decor” because he’s such a stereotypical frat bro)

Ok this is kinda weird but bear with me—Dabi actually dislikes that alcohol makes you less responsive/makes it harder for you to cum. Doesn’t mean he’ll hesitate to get you drunk but he wants you to feel everything he’s doing to you and alcohol isn’t really conducive to that

Very laid-back when he’s tipsy, you can barely tell the difference from when he’s sober ♡

Shigaraki Tomura

A liiiiiiiightweight. 3 drinks and Tomura’s out bruv, out like a goddamn lightbulb, I said what I said

Although tbh it’s more like he gets drunk really quick and then sobers up really quick. Like he’ll be nodding off at the pregame but by the time the party starts, he’s ready to get going again

A wimp when it comes to alc preferences. Hates the taste of strong liquor and will never take shots without a chaser. Prefers to mix vodka and tequila rather than doing shots, preferably with root beer/sprite. Gets pissy if the party runs out of shit to chase with. The frat has a steady supply of amaretto and kahlua because of Tomura, he really likes sweet drinks

Genuinely hates beer and will take white claw over beer any day of the week. But he’s a frat president so he avoids talking about it bc it’s pretty embarrassing

Don’t tell anyone but…Tomura doesn’t really like drinking? Since he’s the president he has to be in charge of a lot of shit when they have parties. Drunk freshmen puking in the backyard? Tomura has to tell Dabi (recruitment chair) to find some pledges to clean it up. Fight breaks out? Tomura has to make sure no one gets hurt enough to get the frat in trouble with school admin. Undercover cops? Tomura’s the one who has to announce that they’re out of alc and shut it down

It’s annoying enough for Tomura to deal with that shit (not to mention get Keigo to stop fucking freshman girls and pull his weight as social chair) when he’s sober, and it’s 100x worse when he’s drunk

On the other hand, when Tomura gets drunk he’ll get really drunk. Doesn’t dance so he’ll just sit on the couch and maybe play handheld games, and he’ll get super annoyed bc he’s shit at games when his vision is blurry and his hands are shaking

Pretty suggestible when he’s been drinking. If you’re dating Tomura you can get him to do all kinds of crap after you get a few shots in him. Make him do your skincare routine with you and put face masks on together :,) He’ll never admit it but he likes being taken care of when he’s wasted

ON THE OTHER HAND THO…….if you’re not dating and instead just some random chick at one of his parties? Tomura will absolutely use being drunk as an excuse to creep on you. e.g. at kickbacks he’ll get you to play never have I ever/truth or dare so he can ask invasive questions

Are you a virgin?

How old were you when you lost it? Oh wow, you’re a slut/prude.

Body count?

Do you like sucking cock?

Ever let a guy tie you up/choke you/cum inside?

You keep answering because he seems super detached/disinterested, like he doesn’t really care about your answers or he’s just joking around. Little do you know…

Honestly a sneak creep—Tomura seems like he doesn’t give a shit about you until he’s groping you under your shirt on the dance floor, hands squeezing your tits before he shoves them into your shorts and tells you he’s going to wreck this little pussy as soon as he gets you alone ♔

Chisaki Kai

You know Kai drinks, but you never really see him drinking? It’s weird…he’s always holding a bottle when you run into him at parties but he never takes off the cloth mask he’s wearing

Brings his own alcohol to parties because no fucking way he’s going to be drinking the same nasty shit that the hosts are providing. Jungle juice? You’ve got to be fucking kidding. Do you have any idea how unsanitary that is? Even thinking about it makes Kai want to throw up

Highkey a drug dealer although he doesn’t do much himself except maybe coke or adderall…Kai can sell you basically anything and all his shit is that high-quality you can’t usually get from a campus dealer

At the same time, if Kai’s planning on fucking you he probably won’t give you that much because he doesn’t want to babysit you when you get crossed

Likes Asian liquors, very on-brand for him. Baijiu, shōchū, sake, that kind of thing. Drinks a fair amount of soju but he exclusively buys boring flavors like “fresh” or “classic”

When it comes to Western liquor, Kai has better taste than most students. Would rather drink vinegar than any alcohol that came out of a plastic bottle, box, or bag. He likes top-shelf whiskey and gin and he’s good with strong alcohol; if you wince after taking a shot he’ll definitely look down on you

Prefers afterparties and kickbacks to big parties, and will take roof/outdoor events over crowds. Hasn’t set foot inside a social frat since he was a freshman and doesn’t plan to. Very much the “let’s get out of here, I have something stronger at my place” type

Fuck, you’re so trusting when you’re drunk…he could probably put a leash and collar on you and you’d thank him. It’s sort of baffling how bubbly and sweet you are when Kai gets a little liquor in you; he can’t decide if it’s annoying or a turn-on

Kai has average tolerance but unbelievable self-control and awareness, so he’s careful not to get too drunk himself

Likewise, if he’s interested he’ll keep a close eye on how much you’re drinking and how trashed you are, because when he gets around to fucking you he wants you to be fuzzy enough that he can easily take advantage but not too sloppy. Wouldn’t want you gagging on his cock after all

Loves watching you stumble around and fall over shit while he’s just shy of sobriety. Only time you’ve ever seen Kai laugh is when you drunkenly asked him for help walking once. No way. If you can’t walk by yourself you should just crawl

When Kai actually gets drunk, he’s pretty much the same except a little more sleepy/lazy. If he’s sitting down he has a habit of nodding off in the middle of conversations. It’s lowkey cute but Setsuno brought it up once and Kai got pissed so don’t mention it to him ♢

[baldysims]

Strange Legacy 2.2

I’m sure you’re all just dying to find out how Betelgeuse’s return to the legacy lot went. But first, let’s check in with generation 2 spare Alpheratz, shown here in his graduation duds cuddling with college placeholder Christy Pons.

Many Romance spares from other legacies never marry, but in this family, woohoo is strictly verboten outside the bonds of holy matrimony, so Alpheratz was set on marriage and children from the start. Unfortunately, as detailed in chapter 2.1, the love of his life is engaged to his brother, so he had to settle for the next best thing... her adult townie lookalike.

Creepy, yes, but despite the wrongness of the whole situation I actually enjoyed playing their little family. Their wedding wasn’t anything fancy, just your basic “I’m sick of this legacy already” sidewalk fare next to the trash can and mailbox, but the groom got his woohoo and the bride got her lifelong partner to talk about grilled cheese with, so I call it a success.

They had two adorable daughters who they named Bellatrix and Cursa, in keeping with the alphabetical and astronomical theme of the legacy.

Unfortunately their birthday parties tended to invite drama, and at Cursa’s toddler-to-child birthday, an out-of-control grandpa Zaniah did this:

Yes, that is the creepy townie who showed up to his wedding in a white gown. I’m sure you’re just as shocked as I am.

“I can’t believe you would do this to me! And at our granddaughter’s birthday party!”

Yeah, totally unexpected. It’s not like Zaniah is a garbage person, or that they’ve been heart farting over each other and undermining your marriage since forever. This is completely out of character for our legacy founder. Mmm hmmmm.

Although I will say it was oddly sweet watching Demi bitch Tamara out for horning in on her mother in law’s man. Strange spouses gotta stick together!

Back on the main lot, Angeline moved in and she and Betelgeuse are working hard at their careers. I want them to both be permaplat before they get married and start reproducing like crazy. Shouldn’t be too hard, since they both got 4.0′s in college and have mad skills in everything.

Zaniah isn’t convinced of Angeline’s worthiness to be a Strange spouse, though.

“Didn’t she kiss your brother?”

“No, Dad, she didn’t. Angeline would never do that to me. And you’re one to talk! We all heard about how you cheated on mom at the birthday party.”

“I would never. That’s just what that harridan your brother married is spreading around because she’s jealous she wasn’t able to marry into the legacy home. Never trust a woman’s gossip, Betelgeuse. I know I’ve taught you this lesson before.”

Yeah, that might have worked if Bete wasn’t a total mama’s boy. He’s been there to witness nearly all of Sharon’s unhealthy coping mechanisms ever since the birthday party. She’s always thinking about that kiss, usually while drinking herself into a stupor.

And so Zaniah tries his schtick out on Angeline.

“Why Angeline, what a lovely pair of lips you have. It’s no wonder BOTH of my sons were unable to resist them. If only you were able to resist both of my sons.”

“Ha, ha! That’s so funny, Mr. Strange. I know you have to be joking because there’s no way a proven adulterer would be lecturing me about the morality of my dating life before I even got engaged.”

“Watch your tone, missy.”

“No, you watch yours, old man. You think you’re hot stuff because you’re a legacy founder? I’m a hot downtownie, I’ve been around since 2005, and I’ve married into a million of these things. You better think long and hard before you start playing games with me, because I will END YOU.”

Yeesh. Well, I think she’s scared him off of trying to come between her and the legacy fortune ever again. Moving on.

Sharon reached the top of the Journalism career, fulfilling her lifetime want.

She then apparently decided that what with her dead marriage and all she had nothing left to live for, and promptly started dying in the bathroom.

“Really? Your first generation spouse is dying before the heir even gets married? That’s pathetic.”

Shut up, Grim, it’s hard when you have Real Sickness installed! You should know this from my apocalegacy!

Thankfully everyone’s favorite mama’s boy was there to save Sharon from my ineptitude and spare her a grisly fate.

He even went above and beyond and cured her ills, literally, with a little Grandma’s Comfort Soup.

Unfortunately, even with her sickness cured, her heart was still broken, and I think we all know Zaniah wasn’t capable of mending it without help.

Fortunately, super son comes to the rescue again with some well placed couples’ counseling. Psychology degree FTW!

Practicing therapy on your own parents... it’s a little unethical, but what can I say? That’s never been a problem for this family.

Awww. Look how happy Bete is to have helped. And with him and Angie both poised to reach level 10 in their careers tomorrow, there’s no better time to restore the household’s relationship harmony!

Once Zaniah’s done getting alien abducted again, natch.

Sure enough, Captain Hero and Chief of Staff did their thing the following day, and I was really looking forward to their Barbie Dream Wedding.

I even decked out the backyard with a sweet ass decorative pond. Look at it! That thing took me two hours. I was pumped.

Of course Zaniah just had to pick a fight with his existing daughter in law, because he can’t let a special event go by without ruining it. Looks like he’s complaining that she’s wearing “too much” makeup. Why am I not surprised?

More things I wish I was surprised about: College placeholder Christy showing up in an exact replica of Angeline’s gown. What is it with the women in this town? Begone, thot!

And so the ceremony -- wait a minute, what’s that happening in the corner?

God. Damn. It. Alpheratz! You had ONE job! Be appropriate at your brother’s wedding.

“Angeline was supposed to be mine! If I can’t have her, then you’d better believe I’m going to ruin my wimp of a brother’s wedding to her!”

UGH, and of course it’s with inappropriate Christy in the white gown. Why can’t my Sims be faithful to their partners at family functions?

Poor Demi was a real trooper, though. Her heart was breaking into a million pieces, but she stayed in her chair and politely clapped until the bitter end, because she wanted Betelgeuse and Angeline to have their moment. It’s odd having a truly classy person in the family for once.

Of course, even classy dames like Demi have their limits, as Alpheratz learned the hard way the second the ceremony was finished.

Oof, right in the moneymaker. And please notice in the background poor Bellatrix and Cursa tearfully fleeing the scene.

Bellatrix is a mean little Scorpio who takes after her father’s side of the family, so she was mainly furious, but poor Cursa just cried and cried. Demi came over to comfort her daughters, and I was torn between delight at the cuteness of this interaction that I had never seen before and sadness for what my drama-loving play style had done to my poor innocent babies.

I’M A MONSTER.

But how much did their other relatives care?

I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.

Demi was actually so incredibly classy that she stopped inside to have a slice of cake and toast to the newlyweds before she said goodbye to the hosts. Oh, Demi, you are so much better than this trash family deserves.

“Yes, unfortunately I do have to go. But I want to wish you every joy and happiness together. There’s nothing better than a marriage that goes right, and nothing worse than when one goes wrong. May you always stay honest and true to each other.”

I don’t think they’ll have any trouble with that nowadays... thank God. You may recall that Angeline was also in love with Alpheratz at the time of his kiss with Christy the homewrecker, and now she hates him just as much as Demi does. I guess it’s true what they say: every cloud has a silver lining, and every broken family has a correspondingly broken incestuous love triangle.

With a little one officially on the way, Angeline was free to focus on less breedertastic legacy duties, like making sure everyone had their portraits in order. Competent artist that she is, she finished that little project before she even started showing.

Good thing, too, because she didn’t have the easiest pregnancy in her later trimesters.

It was definitely a relief when the birth came.

I was less than thrilled that Zaniah directed his applause at his son while turning his back on his daughter in law, the person who actually gave birth, but hey, that’s Zaniah for you.

Anyway, welcome to the family, Cassiopeia Strange!

Little Cassie turned out to be a little bit of a daddy’s girl, and who could blame her? Unlike his own father, Betelgeuse is an actual Family Sim with actual Family Sim wants, and he loves nothing more than showering his daughter with affection.

Soon after, Angeline got pretty busy being pregnant with #2 and working on getting that impossible want point for her secondary aspiration, so she didn’t have as much time for Cassie...

...but even when she did, Cassie was usually thinking about Betelgeuse.

Zaniah has been similarly busy working on his secondary impossible want, among other legacy business. He’s reaching the end of his lifespan and I wanted to make sure to wring every last point possible out of him.

He wrote his novel, as required for the storyteller handicap.

He also got abducted a third time, but unfortunately, no matter how much I made him stargaze at night, there was no fourth or fifth time for that one truly impossible knowledge want of 5 Abductions.

C’est la vie. Although he did survive to see the birth of Betelgeuse and Angeline’s second daughter, Diadem. Yes, daughter. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to have more than three kids, but oh well.

His last action on Sim Earth was becoming best friends with one of his four granddaughters. Ha! Serves you right to die before ever meeting your grandson and third generation heir, you old hypocrite!

Please enjoy this establishing shot that proves I put his grave next to the legacy tree in the backyard... and also that I collected 25 elixirs for a collection point from his aspiration bank before he kicked the bucket.

Mmm, sweet legacy points.

Sharon and Cassie were devastated, but I don’t think anyone else is going to miss the old coot. Particularly since it’s also a birthday party night!

Alpheratz and Demi came by, God knows why, and Alpheratz was so enraged to find that Angeline was pregnant by his brother again that he just had to slap her around a bit.

Classy. This family is so classy.

Adultery everywhere, drinking while pregnant, what social taboos haven’t the Stranges crossed with impunity? I just hope the baby comes out okay. It’s crazy to me that Maxis won’t let pregnant ladies change the cat litter or use the hot tub, but apparently “juice” and “bubbles” are just what the doctor ordered.

But fear not, no amount of dysfunction will ever stop the younger Stranges from getting every privilege in life offered to them on a silver platter! As long as your family is rich, you’re set! Just like in real life.

And may I please just single Demi out for being once, twice, three times a lady yet again? Look at her, autonomously feeding her hungry niece out of the goodness of her heart! It’s like she doesn’t even know what she married into.

Later that night, the house gets burglarized.

Even though Betelgeuse is Captain Hero, the Fearless handicap prevents us from using any alarms and makes burglaries a real pain in the ass. Sharon just barely managed to call the police in time to catch the thief. Why does she need to call a low ranking officer when they have Captain Hero in the house? Who knows. I’ll chalk it up to the booze.

The next morning, the kids prove that they know exactly which family they were born into by rolling identical wants to murder the burglar with the cowplant. Yeesh.

Betelgeuse attempts to teach Cassie a healthier way to deal with her feelings by showing her the ins and outs of investigative police work.

Meanwhile, Angeline gives birth to... ANOTHER girl, seriously? I’m trying to run a patriarchy over here!

I’m sorry I’m not more excited over your birth, Electra, it’s just that I kind of hate dealing with multiple toddlers at once and I don’t like doing it more than once per generation.

At least the girls are cute. Here’s Diadem as a child, showing off her gymnastic skills.

I love watching Di and Cassie play with the dollhouse every morning and night before bed. It’s so wholesome!

Also adorable: Grandma Sharon tucking her grandbabies in whenever she gets a chance. Awww. We’ll just ignore that she probably reeks of booze the whole time.

Much less adorable: Zaniah scaring the crap out of his pregnant daughter in law on his first night haunting. Zaniah! I know you’re a fake Family Sim, but the least you could do is not sabotage your own legacy.

Oh, thank God, it’s finally a boy.

This little rugrat is named Fornax, and he is definitely the heir because I am done, done, D-O-N-E done with these two having children. They’re cute and all, but four is more than enough.

Cassie grew up and rolls Romance, which I don’t think suits her. She seems much more like a Family Sim to me. She’s always rolling wants to interact with her parents and siblings, and sure, she’s a mean little Scorpio, just like dad and gramps, but that’s never stopped her from -- hang on.

What’s that happening in the back of the lot?

Oh, nothing, just Grandma Sharon quietly dying while no one but me cares. You were a good Sim, Sharon, always fun to play. A real booze hound, but I’ll miss you very much.

And her granddaughters who cared so much for her... just kept playing Spin Me Around and didn’t stop until they got their inheritance. 

That’s cold. Maybe Cassie wouldn’t make such a great Family Sim.

Just to test drive the whole Romance thing, I set her up with patriarchy-approved Romeo Montague, and she seemed to like him okay.

They had a very enjoyable date, but when it was time for him to go, she shooed him away in a less than polite manner.

“Get OUT of here, you disgusting boy, and don’t think I’m going to call you again! My family is way richer than yours anyway.”

Yeah, I don’t think Romance is Cassie’s thing.

So after Fornax’s birthday party, when her aspiration finally dipped back down into the green, I went ahead and cheesed her.

No regrets. This family does not need any more Romance Sims -- a lesson that I will be sure to impart on our young heir, Fornax, as well, since he’s our one and only shot at continuing the legacy.

Fornax, sadly, did not have a Roof Raiser of a birthday party, and so I will be going for a different Master Point with him. I’m thinking Child Prodigy, since so many of his relatives have maxed out skills and more career reward skill objects than you can shake a stick at.

Plus, look at what the little stinker always wanted to talk about in his toddler years. Algebra? Yeah, that’s a nerd if I’ve ever seen one.

He is an EXTREMELY good sport about the whole spending his entire childhood studying and skilling thing.

I think Diadem would have made a good child prodigy too, since she rolled knowledge and is ALWAYS congratulating everyone on being overachievers, but sadly, she is a girl and therefore can’t be heir in this deeply unfair patriarchal legacy.

Electra, meanwhile, became a Pleasure Sim with a lifetime want of 50 First Dates. Curse you, Adam Sandler, for inspiring that LTW from hell!

We’re fulfilling it, though. You know we are. I’ve never been able to resist those impossible want points.

“Tybalt, I know Electra brought you home on the schoolbus for a freebie date and all, but I really think you should leave before my grandpa scares you to death. It’s just not safe for a matriarchal guy like you to be here at night.”

“You sure, Cass? Diadem doesn’t seem to mind getting scared.”

“That’s because she’s a freak, Ty. Now beat it.”

“Okay, but you have to promise you won’t tell Bells about this. Electra promised it was going to be strictly platonic!”

Yep, that’s right, Tybalt is dating none other than Alpheratz’s daughter Bellatrix, who grew up into a Fortune Sim who fell head over heels for the fiery Capulet. That would have been a problem if she was born into the main household, but Alpheratz never cared much for legacy rules so he’s perfectly fine with his children dating matriarchal Maxis-mades.

Not that Cursa would ever be in danger of settling down with one. She’s Romance, just like dad, and while she does go out with Tybalt and Bellatrix, she prefers doing her own thing, usually on the karaoke machine.

And how are Alpheratz and Demi? Obviously they are still married, because divorce is anathema in the legacy family, but they actually surprised me by being able to patch things up somewhat.

Okay, maybe they patched things up a lot.

Back on the main lot, Fornax continues his Child Prodigy studies, and Electra continues her string of meaningless dates.

She met many an interesting character downtown, including this dorky vampire who only wanted to talk about school.

“You must tell me about your schoolverk. I haff such an interest in how theese thinks haff changtt since I vos a boy, back in Baffaria.”

“Wow, okay. I have to tell you that as a Pleasure Sim, I hate school with every fiber of my being, but can I introduce you to my sister? I think the two of you would get along like a house on fire!”

Indeed they would, especially since Diadem managed to get herself alien abducted and has therefore become an excellent candidate for the Ivy League master point mini-challenge!

“I get to become a vampire? Sweet.”

I was hyped for the vamping, but unfortunately my vampire skin default left a lot to be desired. Apparently it makes everyone an opaque pearly white regardless of original skintone. Lame!

Pardon me while I switch some files around.

“Ahhhh. Much better. Grandma Sharon must be so proud of me.”

I’m sure she’s proud of all of you, because the time to grow Fornax up and get that master point has come! Once he grows up platinum, we’ll be ready to ship everyone except little miss I Was A Teenage Vampire off to college. It’s been a whirlwind of a generation.

Let me just show off a couple awkward shots proving that he maximized everything he was supposed to...

And away we go! Fucking nailed it!

Next time: How will Fornax cope with going straight from being ten years old to becoming a college student? Will I be able to get Cassie her 200 sandwiches and Electra her 50 dates without driving myself crazy? And what’s with the mystery surrounding Alpheratz and Demi’s third child?

Legacy Scoring:

Legacy: 2.5 Money: 1 Family friends: 38x.25 = 9.25 Impossible wants: 5 (Alph 20L, Sharon 30F, Zaniah 7Sk, Angeline 7Sk, Fornax 7Sk) Platinum graves: 2 (Family, Popularity) Ghosts: 1 (Old Age) Business: 3 Seasons: 2 (tree) Free Time: 2 (Games: Zaniah, Betelgeuse, Alpheratz) Collections: 1 (25 Elixirs x1) Master: 2 (Social Bunnies Need Love Too, Child Prodigy - Fornax, ) Handicaps: 0 Overflow: 0 Penalties: -1 (bills) Total: 29.75

[daisy-chain-gardens]

Exchange Romance - Chapter 7

A/N: Hey guys, me again. Sorry for the slow update but I've had a bit of a crazy week so I haven't had a lot of time to write. This chapter is quite long though so hopefully that makes up for it! The next chapter is going to be 'day by day' style as well. I was going to merge this chapter and the next chapter but I really wanted to post something today and I think this chapter is long enough as it is. Happy reading :)

Word Count: 6,050

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4 // Ch. 5 // Ch. 6 // AO3 link

Brave. This is the first word I would think of if someone asked me to describe Betty Cooper. Although these five small letters do nothing to describe the incredible human being that you are, they begin to describe what you are to me. The next word I think of is gentle, then strong, then intelligent, and then a millions others which would take a lifetime to write out. The truth is, a light such as yourself can’t be summed up with mere words, no matter how many I try to use. You couldn’t possibly be summarised because you are so much more than just a few sentences. You are your accomplishments, your failures, your memories, your regrets and everything in between. Every single one of these things has created you, the amazing, ethereal, kind hearted girl who I am incredibly lucky to call my girlfriend. You make me feel safe in this screwed up world and for that I am eternally grateful. Snowball fights and late night movies and vanilla milkshakes and that certain shade of green will forever remind me of you, surely bringing a smile to my face until my dying days. If someone ever asks me about it, I’ll be sure to tell them all about the beautiful blonde with a funny accent and piercing green eyes. The way her hair looks like pure gold when the sun hits it just so. The look of pure joy and wonder on her face at the sight of snow. The way she tilts her head back slightly and scrunches her eyes shut when she laughs. The tune she taps absentmindedly against the table as she does her math homework. If anyone ever asks me why I remember all of these small moments that anyone else would deem insignificant, I'll tell them it is because of you. The unforgettable Betty Cooper. The girl who had my heart from the second I saw her laughing away in a booth at Pop's. What I'm trying to say, or rather write, is that I love you Betty Cooper. Somehow it feels like I always have. Like I just knew, as soon as we locked eyes, that you were the only girl that would ever be anywhere near enough for me. I am so so happy that you're in my life, and now that you are I can't imagine my life without you. I hope that you have the most unforgettable Christmas, Betts, because you deserve it. You deserve all of the goodness and happiness in the world and I will try my hardest to give it to you. I love you.

This was the letter that Jughead wanted to send. The words flowed smoothly as his pen raced across the page to keep up with his thoughts. Before the ink on the first word had even begun to dry, Jughead knew he would never send this to Betty, no matter how desperately he wanted to. "What kind of wimp tells his girlfriend he loves her in a letter?" He mumbled under his breath before scrunching it up and tossing it in the bin.

What felt like several hours later, the bin beside Archie's desk was overflowing, crumpled paper marked with half finished sentences spilling over the sides of the small metal basket. Jughead held his head in his hands, willing himself to continue. This letter had to be perfect but nothing that he wrote felt right. His sentences felt clunky and his words sounded generic and impersonal. After many more failed attempts, he begrudgingly sifted through the paper mountain and pulled out the crumpled sheet hiding at the very bottom.

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Betty didn't realise she was crying until the ink became blurry, forcing her to clear her eyes before reading the final words of Jughead's letter. His fingers ran over the crumpled page, circling those three words that changed everything. She didn't try to fight her lovesick smile, knowing that her efforts would be in vain. He loved her. Jughead Jones loved her, Betty Cooper. She couldn't believe it. She had to stop from running and jumping around the room for fear of waking up her host family. She reread his letter countless times until she had it memorised, her mind playing the words over and over again. She reached over to her dresser and grabbed her phone, bringing up Jughead's name on Skype and calling him faster than she thought was humanly possible. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hi Betts," he mumbled sleepily, a groggy smile on his face at the sight of his girlfriend.

"Hi Juggie." Her voice was quiet but Jughead could hear the excitement in it.

"Everything ok? It's pretty late. Shouldn't you b-"

"I love you," Betty blurted out, her voice now strong and sure. "Jughead Jones, I love you," she repeated, more to herself than anyone else. Betty wished she had a camera to take a photo of Jughead the minute the words slipped out of her mouth. Pure love and adoration covered his face, no sight of his usual nonchalance.

"Betty Cooper, I love you." There were tears, and quiet promises, and three words whispered over and over again, so many times that they were the only ones either of them could remember. All that Betty wanted was to be with him. To be able to hold his hand, stroke his cheek, press his lips against hers, anything. She absentmindedly traced his face on the screen, aching for his touch. They kept talking until their conversation turned to yawns, the quiet sound of Riverdale in the morning flooded through the speakers before their screens finally turned black.

26th December

By the time Betty emerged from her room, Ronnie had already finished one mug of coffee and Hiram and Hermione were standing near the door.

"Ah, Betty, I'm glad you're awake. Hermione and I are heading off to Paris until the New Year. We have some meetings and things to attend for the company. You two should be fine here but Smithers is staying behind in case you need anything. Have a good time, stay safe," Hiram called over his shoulder as he strolled out of the front door, his wife on his arm. Veronica let out a small sigh when the door closed before quickly turning her attention to Betty.

"So B, I heard voices very late last night. What were you and lover boy up to?" Veronica questioned playfully, waggling her eyebrows.

"Nothing just ... talking," The blonde looked down at the table to hide her smile, failing to hide her happiness as her face blushed red.

"Just talking? If you say so. What did he say in that letter he gave you?" Betty looked up at her host sister, her face resembling that of a deer in the headlights. Ronnie had an innocent smile on her face causing Betty to narrow her eyes.

"What do you know?" Betty asked slowly, her voice curious but threatening.

"I know nothing. But I may have talked to a certain boyfriend of mine who may just happens to sleep in the same room as a certain boyfriend of yours. A certain boyfriend who might sleep talk." Ronnie's voice raised teasingly as she kept her eyes trained on Betty, her innocent smile now having morphed into a knowing smirk. Betty kept her eyes narrowed, still unsure as to whether or not Veronica was bluffing.

"What do you know?" She repeated, her tone becoming more threatening than curious.

"Fine, I give up, you're no fun. Archiekins was clearing out the bin in his room and there was a whole bunch of letters; all addressed to you, all written by Jug. Arch kept teasing him about it until Jug confessed that he loves you." He waited for a beat, creating a dramatic pause which only Veronica could pull off in an actual conversation. "But I wasn't lying about the sleeptalking thing." Betty couldn't contain the smile on her face. Last night the pair had said that they loved each other more times than most people did in a lifetime but Betty didn't think she would ever get tired of hearing it. "So then, last night wasn't just talking, was it?" The brunette raised her eyebrows again, this time questioningly instead of playfully.

"Yes, V, just talking. Sorry to disappoint," Betty replied, laughing when Veronica fake-pouted. "You are the only person I know that would be annoyed I didn't do anything other than talk with my boyfriend on Christmas. Well, you and Kevin."

"At least Kevin has his priorities straight. Speaking of which, shopping is compulsory today because, well shopping should be compulsory everyday really. But, we need to get you something nice for when you get to see Jughead again!" Ronnie practically squealed, looking a lot more excited than Betty.

"Fine, only if we can go sightseeing this afternoon. I haven't gotten to do any sightseeing."

"Deal. Now go get changed, I just got to make some calls," Veronica agreed mysteriously but Betty was too caught up in her daydreams to notice.

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Not more than an hour after their conversation in the kitchen, the two girls were walking around one of the many malls New York had to offer, arms linked at the elbow as they walked through the crowds of shoppers.

"Ok so, first stop, Victoria's Secrets? What colour are you thinking? I think you'd look good in light pink, maybe blue," Ronnie started rambling, talking about various styles of lingerie.

"Wait, what? Why are we going here for me?" Betty asked, her face revealing her confusion.

"To get you something for Jug, remember?" The dark haired girl replied before laughing at the blonde's blatant confusion. "What did you think we were shopping for, lollipops?" Thank god for waterproof makeup because Veronica was crying herself to tears at how naive Betty was.

"I don't know. I thought maybe a new dress or something. I don't really know if we're at the lingerie stage yet," Betty said shyly. She was used to talking about her relationship with Ronnie but this felt different, more personal.

"Not yet but I have a feeling you will be soon. You love him and he loves you, what else is there?" Veronica asked, as if it were as simple as that.

"I don't know it's just ... scary, I guess," Betty confessed, slightly embarrassed.

"B, I'm not trying to pressure you into sleeping with your boyfriend or anything but it's just how it is. people have needs. You might not feel that way yet and that's nothing to be ashamed of. If nothing else, we can always just go and get cute bras for you, Jughead never has to know." Betty hugged her host sister tightly, thankful that she wasn't pushing the matter.

"Fine V. Only because I know that you’re not going to drop this."

"I have raised you well my little kiwi." Veronica smiled up at her blonde friend with motherly affection, laughing when Betty crouched down to her height. Half an hour later, although Betty would probably tell you it was about five hours later, the pair walked out of the mall, arms laden with bags, all from the same store.

--------------------

They finally sat down for lunch at a trendy vegan restaurant, shopping bags surrounding their small table. Their food came quickly and they were just about to start eating when a high pitched voice interrupted them.

"Veronica Lodge, OMG! I didn't know you were back in New York!" A short blonde girl hurried towards them, the amount of shopping bags she was carrying rivalled Ronnie's.

"Zara? It's so good to see you! I thought you guys were in Spain for the holidays." Veronica rushed out of her seat and into Zara's arms, hugging her tightly.

"Just for christmas, we flew in this morning. You know how much I love the shopping in New York." She said, her voice bubbling with excitement.

"Tell me about it. Zara, this is Betty. She's an exchange student from New Zealand and she's staying with me in Riverdale until June." Betty stood up, remembering all of those years of etiquette training her mother had drilled into her.

"IT'S VERY NICE TO MEET YOU," Zara yelled very slowly, over annunciating each syllable.

"It's nice to meet you too," Betty replied, trying to not to laugh at the small girl in front of her.

"Oh, you speak english. I thought maybe you spoke dutch or something." Zara said, unfased by her mistake. She joined them at their table, contributing immensely to their mountain of shopping, and kept the conversation easy until Betty and Ronnie had finished their food. "You girls up for round 2?" Ronnie looked at Betty, waiting or her to answer.

"You two go ahead. I wanted to get in some sightseeing but I'll be fine on my own. I'll text you if I need anything." Betty said, ever the people pleaser. Ronnie thanked her silently before kissing her on the cheek and bouncing out of the restaurant, Zara following right behind as they handed off their shopping to an ever obliging Smithers. Betty chuckled at the sight of them before walking out of the restaurant herself, heading in the opposite direction.

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Juggie: Hope you haven't died from over-shopping. Betty laughed when Jughead's slightly morbid text lit up her phone about an hour after she'd left Ronnie. She'd managed to navigate the subway more a less successfully and then was currently standing in line to go up the Empire State building.

Betts: Not yet. Check back tomorrow and I might have a different answer. They texted back and forth until Betty got to the front of the line, eventually making her way to the elevator and stepping out once it arrived on the top floor.

She was speechless. The whole city was spread out beneath her, the skyscrapers looking like they were a normal size while the rest of the city looked like it was built for ants. She slowly walked along the edge of the fence, trying to soak up every second of the experience. Her phone buzzed in her bag, forcing her to tear her eyes away from the skyline and redirect her attention to the screen where a new text from Jughead waited for her.

Juggie: I love you. She felt unstoppable. Reading those words whilst standing on the top of the world made the butterflies in her chest flutter. Betty turned her back to the city, turning her camera around to take a selfie, the smile on her face bright enough to rival the lights which the city was known for.

Betts: I wish you were here with me

Betts: I love you. It made her so happy to be able to type out those eight letter. Jughead replied almost instantly.

Juggie: I'll be seeing you sooner than you think. She held her phone to her chest, smile still bright as she looked out across New York for one last time before walking back over to the elevator and heading back down to earth.

--------------------

Jughead and Betty continued texting for the rest of the afternoon, Betty sending him various photos of herself posing in front of New York landmarks. She ached to see him and sent him a Skype request as soon as she got through the apartment door that evening, making note of Veronica's absence and figuring she probably wasn't going to be back any time soon.

"Hey Betts," Jughead said as he accepted her request.

"Hey Juggie." She was almost breathless at the sight of him, not sure how he could make her feel like this through a computer screen.

"I was just about to order burgers for dinner. Archie's out somewhere and Fred's working late. I don't know why on boxing day but I get the house to myself so I'm not complaining," Jughead said, reaching for the phone to call the number for Pop's he'd memorised a long time ago.

"I think I'm in the mood for pizza. You up for a movie tonight?" She asked, barely able to keep the expectation out of her voice.

"Always, any ideas?"

"I am in New York so I feel like 'West Side Story' is compulsory viewing," Betty said whilst scouring the internet for nearby pizza places. Of course there were a million.

"Not sure if I agree with your reasoning but you've convinced me, West Side Story it is," he said in mock disappointment.

"You've gone soft Jug. Probably just because you love me," she smiled, turning her attention away from her computer to look at him on her phone. His eyes sparkled and they somehow looked deeper than normal. His beanie-less hair was sticking up in all directions, leaving Betty wishing she could run her fingers through it.

"Anything for you Betts." His expression could only be described as loving and Betty had to bite her lip to try and prevent her smile from taking up her whole face. "However, I do have food waiting for me so I'll call you back in 20 minutes, ok?"

"Okey dokey. I'll see you in 20 minutes, not a second later. Love you!" She called out before hanging up the phone, promptly dialing Smithers number.

"Hey Smithers, do you know of any good pizza places nearby?"

"Certainly Ms. Coo-, Betty, I can go and find some for you if you'd like? Any particular toppings?" It had taken almost three months for Smithers to voluntarily call Betty by her first name but it still made her giggle a bit when she heard him struggle with the informality so much.

"Surprise me. That would be amazing thank you. I think it's a pj's and takeout kind night."

"I understand Betty. I'll bring it up to you as soon as possible."

"No rush. Thanks a ton Smithers!" Betty set up the TV and found the movie on Netflix, changing into her pyjamas while she waited for Jughead to call. Her phone started buzzing as soon as she walked back into the living room.

"You ok Jug? You look a bit flushed." Betty stated as soon as his face popped up on the screen, voice laced with concern.

"I'm ... fine ... 20 ... minutes ... isn't ... very ... long." Jughead choked out, breathing heavily.

"Did you run Jug?" Betty asked, trying to stop herself from laughing at his breathlessness.

"Maybe ... I think Pop's has ... gotten further away ... since you've been gone." A giggle slipped from her lips and Jughead laughed along with her, both just happy to be with each other. Smithers knocked politely on the door, handing Betty her pizza before slipping silently back into the elevator.

"Ok, dinner's all set, you ready to start watching?" She asked, the remote already in one of her hands as she reached for a slice of pizza with the other.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, his breathing finally under control. The music for the intro started and Jughead couldn't tear his eyes away from his girlfriend. It wasn't the same as having her with him. He couldn't feel the weight of her lying across him, his arm wrapped around her or running his fingers through her hair. He eventually looked away when he heard the Sharks clicking through the streets of New York, the sound ripping him from his thoughts. They engaged in their usual movie conversations throughout the film, commenting on various things which caught their eye.

Jughead noticed Betty's uncharacteristic silence and looked down at his phone, the sight before him one which he swears made his heart stop. Betty was leaned back against the couch, wrapped up tightly in a blanket with her hair messily falling around her face. Her mouth was hanging slightly open and her soft snores were barely heard over the noise coming from the TV. He let himself look at her for a few more seconds before softly whispering those three small words and ending the call.

Veronica tumbled through the door very early the next morning, or late that night, she's not quite sure. She's greeted by Betty's sleeping figure on the couch, the Netflix menu on the TV, and Jughead's Skype profile on Betty's open laptop. Ronnie couldn't help but think about how the sleeping blonde was going to react when she found out about her surprise tomorrow. The raven haired princess recovered Betty with her blanket, shut down her laptop and the TV, and then walked down the hall to her room, her eyes closing as soon as her head hit the pillow.

27th December

Betty woke up to the sun streaming through the windows, New York already buzzing down below. She got up slowly and decided to make some pancakes, blasting her music in the kitchen while she worked. Veronica stumbled into the kitchen as Betty was taking the last batch out of the pan, fumbling around for her coffee mug.

“Fun night V?” Betty asked.

“How could it not be? Two girls armed with daddy’s credit card, sounds like a recipe for success.” Veronica replied sleepily, filling up her cup carefully. “Care for a stroll in Central Park after breakfast? I think a bit of fresh air will help get rid of this thumping headache I just happen to have accumulated.” The brunette’s eyes twinkled knowingly as she finished her sentence, causing Betty to giggle.

“New York, new Veronica? I thought you hated strolling, and the outdoors, and watching people exercise,” Betty pointed out skeptically, confused as to what had caused Ronnie’s sudden change of heart.

“You never know, maybe we’ll find something more interesting to do along the way.” She took a long sip of her coffee, dismissing Betty’s bewildered look.

“Whatever you say V. As long as it doesn’t involve shopping I’m good with whatever.”

“Speaking of shopping, you should wear something that you bought yesterday. What’s the point in buying it if you’re not going?” Ronnie asked, feigning nonchalance.

“What’s going on V? First you want to ‘go for a stroll’ and now you’re trying to get me to wear nice underwear for said stroll. Is there something going on that I don’t know about?” Betty was completely puzzled at this point and was frustrated that Veronica was being so secretive.

“Only time will tell. Eat up quick, I want to go to the park as soon as possible.” The brunette refused to meet Betty’s eye as they finished their pancakes, Betty’s mind racing with possibilities as to what Veronica could possibly have planned for them at the park. Although she would deny it if Ronnie asked her, Betty put her new baby blue bra and matching underwear on under her winter clothes. Ronnie all but dragged her out the door as soon as she was decent, stilettos clicked hurriedly along the icy pavement. Betty was lead this way and that for about ten minutes until she realised that Ronnie was following the signs to the ice skating rink.

“V, why are we going ice skating? I know how you feel about wearing shoes that other people have worn.” The raven haired princess shuddered at the thought before replying to the girl she was dragging along, a devious smile playing on her lips.

“If things go well, we’ll be doing a lot more than ice skating.”

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A bright smile lit up Betty’s face at the sound of children playing, a sure sign that they were getting close to the ice skating rink. Her curiosity was killing her and she could tell that it was taking everything Ronnie had not to spoil her mysterious surprise. As soon as they rounded the corner the ice came into view, but Betty took no notice. All that she could see was him. Jughead and Archie were leaning against the barrier, chatting animatedly about something, caught up in their own bubble. Betty ran over to them and jumped into Jughead’s arms, hugging him tightly. Jughead reacted in an instant, holding her close and spinning her around.

“I missed you,” she whispered in his ear, melting into him.

“I love you,” he whispered back. She shifted slightly in his arms, moving so she could rest her forehead against his, her green eyes getting lost in the depths of his.

“I love you.” Before he could react her lips were on his, desperate and loving, trying to convey how they felt now that words were no longer enough.

“As adorable as you two are, there are children here,” Veronica pointed out from where she was standing next to Archie. His arm was already wrapped around her shoulder as he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. Ronnie’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, letting herself lean into his chest. Betty pulled back slightly, blue eyes meeting green, giving her a look that made her feel like she was floating. She had thought that reading those words made her feel something but after hearing them fall from his perfect lips, she didn’t think she could ever get enough. Reluctantly, Betty untangled herself from Jughead as he lowered her gently to the ground, her arm staying around his waist as she turned to face Veronica.

“This is incredible V, I can’t believe you did this,” Betty said, her emotions written all over her face.

“Anything for you B, you know that. I think Archiekins and I are gonna head back to the apartment, you guys want to tag along?” Jughead didn’t even check with Betty before replying.

“Thanks Ron but I think we’re gonna walk around a bit, maybe do some sightseeing.” Jughead looked down at Betty with a sly grin and she burst out laughing, remembering all of the strange pictures she had sent him yesterday.

“Ok well we’ll see you guys for dinner? Maybe watch a movie after?” Ronnie asked, taking over Betty’s usual role of organising everyone now that the blonde was too busy staring at her boyfriend.

“Sounds good, see you tonight,” and with that they were off, running away from their friends and deeper into the park, hand in hand, laughs ringing out and masking the sound of the ice skaters beside them. Ronnie watched them go, a small smile on her face as she watched the pair disappear through the trees. The couple stayed like that for a while, holding each other close and watching the snow fall around them, before slowly turning around and strolling off in the other direction.

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As soon as Archie and Ronnie were out of view, Betty and Jughead once again became a tangle of limbs, holding each other so tightly they almost seemed like one person. Jughead’s hands were cupping her face, pulling her into the kiss with everything he had. Her hands mimicked his before running through his hair, knocking his beanie to the ground. Neither of them knew how long they stayed like that, kissing the life out of each other, hands roaming as they pleased. Seconds felt like hours but even the hours weren’t long enough. The snow had stopped falling by the time their lips pulled apart, hugging each other as though they would disappear if they put too much space in between them.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Their words repeated over like a mantra until their voices turned hoarse from the cold, forcing them to held each other in silence. Silently, they let each other go, hands still joined as their fingers laced together. Jughead leaned down and picked up his beanie, the colour almost black from the dampness of the snow it was half buried under. He tucked it into his pocket, sending Betty that smile which made her heart melt. They slowly made their way out of the park not quite sure of their destination but not really caring.

--------------------

Jughead and Betty spent the whole day running around New York, hand in hand, laughter following them through the bustling streets. They retraced Betty’s steps from the day before, recreating her goofy photos with the camera Jughead had been given for Christmas. He was constantly taking photos of anything that caught his eye; a colourful sign, people caught in conversation, old buildings, Betty. She was somehow completely oblivious to his camera, too caught up in her own little bubble to hear the constant click or notice the lovesick smile on her boyfriend’s face whenever she appeared in his lens. Halfway through the afternoon, Jughead’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Can you grab that Betts? I really want to get this shot,” he asked without looking at her, eyes completely focused on the small screen of his camera. A small smile played on her lips at the way he looked when he was completely focused, tongue slightly visible through his pink lips as his fingers fiddled with some buttons. She watched him for a second before digging his phone out of his pocket.

Arch: Ronnie wants to go out tonight so we might not be here when you guys get back. Movies tomorrow night?

“It’s Archie. V’s taking him out tonight so we’ll be all on our lonesome,” Betty relayed, unable to keep her smile from growing at the thought of having the apartment all to themselves. She sent off a quick reply to Archie and was just about to turn it off when something caught her eye. Jughead’s background was the photo she had sent him yesterday, her smiling face looking back at her from the screen, New York filling up the background. SHe stood up on the tips of her toes and softly kissed Jughead on the cheek. He stopped fiddling with his camera and looked down at her.

“What was that for?” He asked, slightly confused by his girlfriend’s sudden display of affection.

“Because I love you,” she replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“I love you.” He leant down to kiss her, slow but quick at the same time. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of say those words,” Jughead confessed, eyes locked on hers.

“Good because I’ll never get tired of hearing them,” Betty said with a cheeky grin, pulling him back in for another kiss, lacing her fingers back through his and leading him through the crowd.

--------------------

They tumbled into the apartment later that evening. Jughead held takeout in one hand and Betty in the other. The two of them promptly collapsed onto the couch, not even bothering to take off their winter coats. Betty leaned against Jughead, closing her eyes for a few seconds.

“You ok Betts? We can just go to sleep if you want,” He suggested, concern leaking into his voice at the sight of his exhausted girlfriend.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just been a busy day,” Betty said, opening her eyes and smiling up at him, adjusting slightly so she could see him better.

“It’s been an amazing day.” His voice sounded soft, his hand squeezing her gently from where it rested on her hip. She snuggled in closer to him, leaning into his chest with her legs lying across his lap.

“It was truly incredible. But now we have to eat, my stomach is getting angry at me,” she commented, making no effort to move from her spot. Jughead chuckled at her response.

“A girl after my own heart,” he quipped, running his fingers through her blonde locks a few times before moving her off his lap so he could grab the food. Betty took off her coat and shoes while she waited for him to return, turning on the TV and scrolling through Netflix. They ate their takeout and watched movies, just like they always did. Betty was so happy that he was here and not on the other side of a screen. She sat as close to him as possible and took every chance she could to touch him; brush his hair out of his eyes, draw small circles on his arm with her thumb, kiss his hand as he held it in hers. Jughead found it adorable how affectionate she got when she was tired. It seemed as if her inhibitions melted away and she was truly herself. He had to fight off a laugh at the end of the movie when he realised she had somehow fallen asleep in what he thought looked like a very uncomfortable position wrapped around him. He was unable to extract himself without waking her up so he gently nudged her shoulder.

“I’m awake, I’m just … resting,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. The chuckle finally escaped his lips as he helped her slowly move to an upright position.

“You ready for bed babe?” He teased, brushing her hair out of her face.

“I like it when you called me babe.” She sent him a sleepy grin which made his heart flutter. God she was beautiful, even with her hair a mess and eyes half closed. He quietly stood up and half carried her down the hall.

“Which bedroom is yours?” Jughead asked when they got to the corridor.

“That one over there,” she pointed to a door about halfway down and Jughead chuckled again. “What’s so funny?’ Betty asked, not sure if she had missed something or if Jughead was just being strange. “Just Ron. That’s the room I stayed in last time I came here with her and she told me I would be in the same room again.” Betty smiled again, not really awake enough to give a proper response.

“Guess you’re stuck with me then.”

“I can think of worse things,” Jughead replied, kissing her nose when she scrunched it up in mock anger. Betty flopped straight onto the bed when they got into the room

“I can’t be bothered moving now,” she admitted, voice muffled by the duvet.

“Come on babe, you can’t sleep in your jeans. Where do your pj’s live?” He asked as he put his bag in the corner.

“Second drawer down. Just grab whatever.” Jughead could hear her voice getting sleepier and moved quickly around the room, grabbing a pair of flannel pj’s before walking over to the bed.

“There you go. Do you want me to wait in the bathroom?” She shook her head before dragging herself off the bed, starting to take off her sweater. Jughead walked calmly over to his bag, pulling out his own pyjamas. By the time he turned around to ask her something, she was only in her bra and undies. He help but stare. She was absolutely breathtaking. He tried to gulp down the lump that was forming his throat, will himself to stay calm but not quite sure how to go about it. Betty noticed him staring and let out a giggle.

“Like what you see?” She teased, a sparkle in her eye that Jughead hadn’t seen before. She walked over to him and he could have sworn it was in slow motion. She wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him, hard. Where their other kisses had been filled with unspoken promises and loving touches, this was purely instinct. Hands roamed where they pleased and tongues collided, both of them trying to get as much of each other as possible. Jughead’s hands gripped the back of her thighs, pulling her up as she wrapped her long legs around his waist. He carried her the short distance across the room, his body pressed against hers until he carefully lowered her onto the bed.

“Juggie, I really want to carry on but I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. Is it ok if we continue this later? I’m really sorry,” Betty mumbled into his ear. Jughead could hear the sleep weighing down her voice and had no problem complying.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he whispered back, content that she felt secure enough around him to tell him how she was feeling. She crawled across the bed and snuggled under the covers, patting the space next to her to encourage Jughead to slide in next to her. He did just that, wrapping his arms around her as her eyes fluttered closed once more.

“Good night Betts,” he murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head lightly. He took a moment to remember this feeling before closing his eyes to the world and joining her in dreamless slumber.

[junker-town]

Meet the women of SB Nation’s NBA team brands and learn about the challenges they’ve faced

Welcome to a week-long series celebrating the women covering NBA teams for SB Nation’s team brands.

All of the women covering NBA teams for SB Nation’s team brands have had unique experiences covering the sport because they’re women. You can meet all of the women we’re featuring in this series in the first post, which you can find here. The second post details how each woman fell in love with basketball and the team they cover.

In this third installment of our series celebrating these women, here are some of the challenges they’ve faced covering the NBA for SB Nation sites and the advice they’d like to share with other women looking to break into the field.

Bailey: I imagine, as a trans woman, that my experiences are probably fairly unique. When I first started writing about the Mavs, it was pre-transition. Since I’ve transitioned, my experience has changed somewhat. The primary challenge is just that men are much more willing to say awful things about me or my writing. As I’m sure most of us know, this wears on you. I don’t cover the team in the locker room or at press conferences or anything, so I cannot speak to the challenges there.

The only advice I would have is to engage with the fans who appreciate your work and make strong use of the block option for those who are only looking to troll.

Sarah: I have faced a lot as woman in a male-dominated industry. I’ve been propositioned to sleep with men for jobs, sexually harassed, been told women have no place in sports and I was never going to amount to anything because I wasn’t good enough. My advice for women coming into this profession is to never deter. Yes, men will place roadblocks in your life, but you know yourself better than anyone else. You’ve relied on your talent all these years, so don’t ever stop doing you. Be known for your work and everything will fall into place.

Courtney: Intimidation and underestimation. My abilities, interest and understanding have been underestimated as a woman in a male-dominated industry. I frequently hear “Oh. I didn’t know you would understand or care about that.” Or “YOU know sports?” No. I know basketball. As for the intimidation … well, I think that is just a normal aspect of healthy competition, which I think most of us agree isn’t necessarily gender-specific. (I have had tiny little 4’10 ballerinas fluff up and try to intimidate me with the same effort as any man in a sports environment.) I don’t take any offense. I just smile at the expression of surprise on their faces when I follow along with their conversation, or when I give my own perspective about a game or strategy. I see the challenge of being a woman in a typically male industry as exactly that — a challenge. This is just a cultural norm that has begun to slowly change over time. Challenges make us grow and growth makes us strong. That is all good as far as I can tell.

Ashley: The only challenges I have faced are the challenges I have set up for myself. The team I write with at the Denver Stiffs is welcoming and encouraging, and even though I’m new to the roster they’ve made me feel very comfortable. I’m not as technical as some of the other writers, and I sometimes feel like I need to change my style, but then I remind myself that we all have a unique voice to bring to the site.

My best advice for another female trying to make her way in the sports blogging world is to not worry about the fact that you’re a woman in a male-dominated industry. Have confidence in your perspective, because if you try to write like someone else it typically hinders your quality from what it really can be. People want to know what you think. So tell them.

Kayla: I’m very lucky in the fact that I have not faced many challenges in this industry as of yet. For a couple of years, I was the only female on the Denver Stiffs staff, but I never felt out of place because of it. I think it helped that I had been active on Twitter for years and people knew that I was an avid fan of the team and because of that, I never really felt the need to prove my passion for the Nuggets. That being said, I’m all too aware that females that are far more active in the industry than I am are obviously way more subjected to those challenges. The few times I have had the opportunity to attend a Nuggets game as a member of the “media,”

I’m aware of the fact that females in this industry are outnumbered by males in a big way. I think the experience that a female has in this industry is entirely dependent on who they are surrounded by — I’m lucky enough that I am surrounded by great people that do not question the fact that I am a female writing about a basketball team.

Grace: Not only have I been pretty much the only consistent female writer for the site during my career there, but I also have been by far the youngest. Especially at first, it can be a little intimidating. I’ve never had anyone make fun of the fact that I was a girl to my face, but guys definitely didn’t try to include me in conversations about sports growing up. I interject myself into the conversation, and they begin to realize I know what I’m talking about. In the dating world, many guys shy away from career girls, especially ones that know about sports, so that was a little frustrating in high school that guys didn’t appreciate that about me. They seemed to find it intimidating.

Working for GBB, I’ve always felt really welcomed and respected by my peers and editors. I’ve been encouraged by those closest to me to pursue writing about sports. I’d advise other girls looking to get into this industry to just go for it. You have nothing to lose. Let the haters make their comments, but they’ll respect you as your work speaks for itself. You have to gain some credibility to be taken seriously, but that will come with time! Just work harder than everyone else. If you’re treated poorly, take your talents somewhere else. There are plenty of sports sites that are run by or greatly respect female writers.

Jannelle: My biggest challenge is being heard sometimes. I can say things on Twitter, for example, and for the most part, they are overlooked by some fans. My opinions are overlooked and dismissed until I’m proven right. Then I have no problem letting people know about it and telling them to put some respect on my name!

My advice is to stick to your convictions and beliefs no matter what. If you feel like you know your stuff regarding the NBA and sports as a whole, you keep talking, keep learning, and keep sharing. You may have to talk some trash, but eventually, you will be heard and respected.

Marilyn: I’d be lying if I said I had come across any such issues so far, at least at SB Nation. I will say back during the 2010-11 season, I was covering the Spurs for Bleacher Report (back when it was a fan-operated site), and there was always this one Lakers fan who would comment on my articles about how clueless I was and how women shouldn’t cover sports. He would get banned, then create a new account and be right back the next day with all his shenanigans, blaming me for being a wimp and getting him banned.

In reality, it was other commenters who were flagging him and coming to my defense, but my advice to others would be don’t be afraid to flag or report someone if they cross the line. That is a common issue women face in general these days, so don’t feel like it makes you any weaker. Also, don’t stoop to the level of those types of people. If you’re going to respond do it with class and dignity in an educational manner. Going low doesn’t help the cause.

Renee: The only issue, not really challenge, has been that people don’t believe that I understand or know as much as I do about basketball and that I can contribute to such a prestigious site like PTR. My only advice is to own your skills. Know and believe that you are just as knowledgeable and skilled as the next “guy.” It has taken me a while to get to the point of owning my skills and knowledge, and I’m grateful for the leadership and mentoring of my editor-in-chief.

Michelle: Personally, I’ve been lucky not to have experienced sexism in the industry, although I certainly know sexism exists. I’ve worked for two sports news websites in addition to SB Nation, and really enjoyed the people I’ve worked with and never felt like my opinions or writing were treated with less value. I’m based in Los Angeles, where the sports media market it is fairly diverse, with women involved meaningfully in broadcasting and reporting at various levels (high school, college and pro sports). I would encourage others to not shy away from the fact that the industry is still male-dominated, as the face of the industry is changing. If you have an interest in sports and want to make that a career — GO FOR IT!

Tara: It’s been a big responsibility and a huge challenge to step in as a cohost of the Blazer’s Edge podcast. I have a male cohost who is basically my polar opposite. I’m a little bit country, he’s a little bit rock and roll. I’m relentlessly optimistic, he’s in eternal pessimist. He is extremely knowledgeable about every aspect of the game and I’m still learning how to watch it critically. Despite our differences though, the biggest challenge hasn’t been working with a vocal alpha male, it has been overcoming my own self doubts. How could anyone possibly want to listen to what I have to say? I must sound like an idiot! I’m a total fraud. Again, I can’t emphasize enough how great my co-host has been to work with, but he doesn’t get it when I say, “if I say something wrong, I’m letting all females who host sports podcasts down.”

One thing I do to counteract those negative feelings is I keep any compliments I get. Tweets or emails or message that say anything positive go into a file on my desktop called “Atta girl.” Its a reminder that if people I like and admire say something nice, who am I to tell them that they are wrong? I’d say I 75% believe them.

The other challenge has been trying to fit into a culture that isn’t particularly encouraging. I can’t say how many times I’ve heard “You want to get into sports journalism? Don’t.” This pessimism is so far out of my normal experience. This isn’t true on my site, but outside of the group of writers I regularly interact with there is no collegiality if you are not already a part of the in-crowd. I have experienced that at Summer League. I sat on press row during a Blazers game one time and the only person who talked to me was the woman who brought me there and the one guy I knew from Blazers Edge. Its not like everyone is actively unfriendly, they just expect you to make all the effort.

Marissa: My advice for other women in any male-dominated industry is to find allies in other women, then help lift each other up. I have found that no one is more willing to elevate women’s voices than other women.

Caitlin: Looking back on it now, I’m confident that growing up as a coach’s daughter probably afforded me free and unlimited membership in the boys’ club of talking sports that I, and others like me, probably wouldn’t have enjoyed otherwise. That is, at least when I was surrounded by those who knew whose kid I was. All hands were on deck one summer when I jumped in to run the clock at some pick-up games my school was hosting. It wasn’t my first time doing the job, but the coach who happened to be filling in as an official from an opposing team wasn’t familiar with me. When there was only a handful of seconds left to play in the game and the player inbounding the ball rolled it onto the court, I was given animated instructions to wait to start the clock until a player on the floor touched it, almost like a crossing guard walking out to halt traffic for crossing children. I laughed it off, thinking it strangely funny that he assumed I didn’t understand the rules, until later in the day when I noticed that he didn’t find it necessary to patronizingly gesticulate in the same scenario when some of the much younger brothers of players had taken over for me.

That experience was eye-opening because it revealed to me for the first time that the way in which my understanding of the game had been perceived up until that point was linked, at least in part, to the fact my dad was my dad. It was always, “That’s the coach’s daughter; therefore, she knows sports.” Never just, “She knows sports.” My authority wasn’t my own, and apparently it mattered in the eyes of some that I was female.

I’ve posted 450+ articles at Indy Cornrows. By choice, my first name has been abbreviated on the byline of all of them. This was never done with the intention of purposely deceiving anyone. Rather, I made the conscious decision to create an environment where first-time readers would notice my writing and ideas before they made note of my gender. Now that most are aware of both, I’m extremely grateful for the support of our site manager Tom Lewis, the tolerance of our fan community, and the countless words of public encouragement from fellow bloggers and outlets like Jared Wade, Tim Donahue, Ben Gibson, the Miller Time Podcast, and Locked on Pacers — all of whom are men who have empowered me and my writing.

China: I may be a bad person to ask this because (knock on wood) without exception everyone I have ever worked with at Posting and Toasting and interacted with on Knicks Twitter has been incredibly cool and supportive. I know there are ugly corners of this world but they have been hidden from me thus far. I can’t say enough good things about Seth and Joe, and (most of) the commenters on the blog.

THAT SAID, I stay so entirely in my (non-technical, non-aggressive, mostly lighthearted) lane that I don’t think there’s much testosterone that would spill on to me in any event. And so the challenges I have faced are mostly internal — trusting that what I write is informative or entertaining, and that my voice might be valuable, maybe because it is different. And to trust that even though I might not be a basketball expert, I’m a pretty serious fan and that’s an important perspective. Hell, Bill Simmons made a fortune off it.

I’m afraid I have no specific advice other than 1. Figure out your voice (mine is slightly husky), and 2. As unbalanced as it is (and it is), there are a lot of people, many of them men, who might love to help you out and give you a platform, so don’t be afraid to try.

Kelsea: Honestly, just the comments so far. I haven’t been doing this long enough for someone to tell me to “get back in the kitchen,” but it seems like any time I write an article with even the tiniest example of a stat, there is always one guy who has to tell me I’m wrong. Thankfully, there are also usually some who defend me and tell said guy that he is wrong and I am right (duh).

Romy: Our industry is notoriously old school, but it’s started to break open. Personally, I’ve been lucky to have many women to look up to at UMass Amherst (where I did my masters in Sport Management), an incredible network I could tap into (which is one of the largest hurdles women have to overcome), and male bosses who also acted as sponsors.

Rachael: I could count on one hand the amount of basketball conversations I’ve had with a male that didn’t include some sort of ignorant or sexist comment. The thing is, a good chunk of guys don’t even realize they’re being offensive — so I’m quick to let them know. Between, “So, do you really watch basketball?” and constantly being quizzed and tested, it’s exhausting. I’ve dealt with ignorance regarding basketball knowledge endlessly in person, but nothing compares to how completely ugly and hateful the internet can get over a simple basketball opinion.

I’ve encountered a lot of discouragement on my journey, but I’ve found that succeeding has felt all the more sweeter after you have been doubted. My best advice is to maintain your confidence no matter how many times you get knocked down. Realize that you are just as knowledgeable — probably more so — as any man in this industry. Know your worth and don’t let anyone take away the love you have for the game of basketball.

[berthawelton03-blog]

Family members Dinners By Anthony Valentine.

Salmon is actually frequently cooked as a fillet (a thin cut down the side from the fish without bone tissues) or even a steak (a cross-section from the fish). Including the foods you might prepare in advance (like cold starters, sauces, dips, treats) into your Thanksgiving supper food selection as well as prepare them a few days just before the significant vacation will alleviate the pressure on the Thanksgiving holiday time as well as let you appreciate the household party equally as long http://powerandstrenght2017.info/ as the rest from your family and also invited visitors will. Along with their gorgeous range from colors and also light lettuce-like flavor, wimps lighten any type of recipe. The mix from herb seasonings, mouthwatering tomato dressing, leaking mozzarella cheese, covering a tender poultry boob fillet, will certainly add to the results of your special dinner time in your home. Yeah, Greg this is actually Steve, its little bit of early to obtain a total read that our experts may share on the exact use from that. Our company are actually certainly viewing good very early grip all over day components. Grill them for a couple of mins as well as there you have that, good grilled veggies that you are going to definitely really love. The Los Angeles CÔTE BRASSERIE currently showcases the Table d'Hote - Daily 3 training course lunch unique for $15, as well as the Cook's Sampling Food selection - 6 program supper exclusive for $65 and also $95 along with wine coupling. . Reheating) is likewise common, with friends and also families assembling once again in the afternoon from Xmas Day to enjoy the leftovers from the dinner. I should have detected the initial indicator that this specific night wasn't visiting be your traditional dinner out when the host seatsed our company as well as Sylvia asserted that the dining table the hostess decided on had not been satisfactory and also directed the person hosting to seat our team at a dining table clear around the area. In several parts of the world, particularly previous English swarms, the food discusses some hookup along with the English Christmas time dinner involving baked cores and also pudding from some summary. This image is actually of the supper luxury liner, the MV Kearsarge on Pond Sunapee in New Hampshire. If you desire to possess a pleasant dinner out on the city, he possesses the ideal restaurant for you also. You are going to possess peacefulness, excitement as well as a terrific dinner if you are actually intelligent sufficient to catch the little tasty fish. I had actually had such a magnificent time that I managed to invite myself back for January or even February to cook a dinner along with him as well as Melissa, as well as he provided to fire a swine for us to prep. Peppermint herbal tea is yet another fantastic plant based tea to drink for soothing heartburn indicators. Probably the easiest technique to celebrate Valentine'ses Time or one more exclusive occasion is to create dinner bookings at a lovely, peaceful restaurant. These dinner-dance mixtures can generate approximately $30-60 each, and also the school turns a wonderful income, offered they negotiated location, food selection and catering, decor, and also popular music prices efficiently. There are actually a lot of various other blooms that would be actually great options for a wedding rehearsal dinner. This is actually not a place we know good enough ready to have actually shorted the label, now that the steering wheels have actually come off that's a dazzling reminder from Richard's spade work which capital-preserving supper. And, naturally, you don't possess seven or even eight individuals in order to help you receive supper with each other, so it provides you a great excuse-- you could inform your loved ones that you have to perform the job of eight individuals in the kitchen space, therefore only shut up and consume.

[epicurioustraveler]

Day one began harmlessly enough. It was still pitch black outside at nine-thirty when we set out to walk to the van rental place.  Oh, I forgot to mention it was freaking cold! After a few wrong turns we came across a host of Asian fisherman each frantically inhaling pack of cigarettes before their next shift begins, they offered no help to two lost white gents with a smartphone acting as our unfolded map. Arriving about a half hour after we left the hostel, not yet frozen but close, we were about to immerse ourselves into this playground for the senses by renting a Camper Van from Rent.is. Having someone to be my copilot and take some of the burden of driving would be very helpful on these sometimes treacherous roads. The buddy who was brave enough to make this journey with me was an adventurous soul himself. Well before we found ourselves each desiring to travel to Iceland, we had met in March on a camel safari in the Thar Desert near the Pakistan/India border. What we then discovered was that he, along with his brother and brother’s girlfriend, were about to embark on the same epic adventure as my best friends, Cecil, Dave and I were. The ‘Rickshaw Run‘ would comprise 3,000 kilometers of driving a 3-wheeled tin bucket across ungodly hellish terrain from Jaiselmar to Shillong, India. For those not going right to Google to see where those two points are located I will let you know. Jaiselmar is near Pakistan and Shillong is on the far side of Bangladesh. A helluva long drive in a vehicle that could only take 7 liters of petrol and get you about 65 km/hr with a good tail wind and downhill slalom tires. Suffice it to say, with a combined 6,000 km’s of driving experience traversing desert, mountain and downpours, as well as cattle, goats, and camel’s, we felt confident we could survive whatever Iceland had to throw at us. Because let’s face it, when you see dead bodies on the road in India and are targeted over every other inhabitant of the Indian roadways, you seem to be a bit more understanding of the life/death paradigm on the open road.

Our first attempt to escape Reyjkavik for the frozen tundra of northern Iceland in the Renault Camper Van hit a hiccup when the cigarette lighter blew a fuse as we were heading out of town. Oh, I almost forgot to give my “buddy” a name. We’ll name him ‘Anthony’ for purposes of this blog to protect his identity. He’s rather famous in parts around Windsor. He has been seen in adverts across England, thanks to his epic Rickshaw Run experience, where his team (“Shillong Way To Go”) wore the proper Boot’s Pharmacy SPF suncreen in the blistering Indian sun. If you blinked at the end, you missed this Anthony character. And let’s face it, protecting your skin in the Indian sun is of utmost importance to those in England where it barely registers 20 Celsius on a good day. Do they even have long enough periods of sun to warrant such a product being slathered on exposed skin? Do they even have sunny days in the summer in England? I doubt it. But back to Iceland and our Camper Van (“CV”). Returning that vehicle, we thought a simple fuse change would have us on our way in minutes. August, surprised to see us back was probably wondering to himself, “Ha, these young lads thought they knew what to expect on the roads of Iceland. Wimps are already chickening out.” No, August we just need you to do the simple thing of changing a fuse so we can be on our way. This proved too large a chore for August and his female cohort who offered up “watch the large trucks who drive crazy on the road. It’s probably best if you move to the side of the road and let them pass.” Advice that was so extremely wrong it was laughable to Anthony and I as our trip would progress. There were two other vans on the lot. But we learned the one similar to ours hadn’t been cleaned out so they ‘upgraded’ us to a larger CV that could sleep 3. It actually was a much nicer van but also ate 2x the diesel fuel. Something that is super expensive in an already crazy expensive country. If you haven’t heard, Iceland is a wealthy country. And they sure as hell display it in their prices. From the mini-mart to the gas pump and all places in between where you will need to purchase items that you actually need to survive. Anyway, after an hour and a half of wasted daylight, a very precious commodity in the winter here as daylight only lasts from about 10:00 to 16:00. And that’s if you are lucky enough to have sunlight all day and not be behind mountain peaks. In reality, you might not see actual daylight until closer to noon and if the clouds roll in, darkness will start around 15:30. Anyway, off we went in a CV twice the size of our first but with a working cigarette lighter which is much needed for your phones and portable devices. Otherwise, you will die. Seriously! Your family will be notified that the authorities found your frozen carcass inside a luxurious CV despite you being bundled up in your Coleman sleeping bag with a can of Pringle’s firmly entrenched in your frozen grip. All because you couldn’t call for help along the desolate Route 1 highway that encircles this island the size of England. Or you were just stupid and tried to hit a side road that doesn’t show up as an orange or blue line stretch of road on the local road conditions site (road.is). Trust me, it happens. Well, at least I think it does.

At this point you are saying out loud, ‘this started off sounding super exciting with an informative slant about what the best things are to do on the island, but now it’s sounding like this country is a frozen hellish tundra.’ Well, calm down there mate. The best part is coming. And it will span the remainder of this article. But it won’t be a preferred itinerary for you to plan your upcoming adventure to this barren winter wonderland.

The first thing you notice behind the wheel is that there is little to no traffic anywhere. There are approximately half a million people that inhabit the island and the rest are tourists. Predominantly Asian tourists. Which can scare some people if you do have to drive these roads. Look, stereotypes exist for a reason. Lighten up. I saw no accidents, save one. No, make that two. Those come later. You’ll have to stick around for that. So even Asian drivers can safely navigate these treacherous driving conditions. Moving along. . . we make it to Route 1 and begin to notice that the landscape is quite different from what you see in Reykjavik. In fact, the landscape seems to change about every 20-50 kilometers. It certainly does impress. Getting comfortable inside the warmth of the van it still doesn’t keep you from pulling off the road every 30 minutes or so to take a picture of this incredibly beautiful country. You will likely want to stop often and photograph the gorgeous, thick haired Icelandic horses that dot the landscape throughout your entire journey. Save the extremely desolate northern stretch of highway.

The sunset the first day occurred mostly in our rear view mirrors. But we were fortunate enough to spot such a large gathering of those Icelandic horses and captured some great sunset shots with them in the foreground. We had to pull off the road and hike through knee deep snow to do so, but it was worth it. Their curiosity got the best of them and many of them wandered over to us, a couple even wishing to be pet. Leaving our new heavily coated four-legged friends, we drove into the dark night, missed some turns but otherwise an uneventful day of driving. By our standards we were true journeymen making it from Reykjavik all the way to Myvatn, where we found a campsite for the night.

As we were bunking down, getting the generator started so we wouldn’t become that frozen corpse clinging to a can of Pringle’s (our go to food on this trip) and getting the stove going so we could make some tea, a car pulled up next to our van. Anthony assumed the occupants had come out to the middle of nowhere for a ‘dogging’ session. I had to inquire as to what this meant (urban dictionary has the meaning). After laughing hysterically, Anthony must have wanted to join in their fun as he commented “I am going to go say hi.” A couple of minutes later he returned to the van, still clothed mind you, and said, “Martin and the Northern Lights are out.” For a brief second I thought this meant Martin was naked and he had some really good marijuana. But Martin actually was a Polish chap who photographs the awesome spectacle on a near nightly basis we would learn. Being the expert, he showed us how to set our cameras to best catch them. He took us to a better spot to capture this dancing spectacle in the sky. We shot picture after picture and we did get some good photographs. “They won’t be as good the next 10-14 years,” Martin would inform us, as the southern hemisphere would be the larger recipient of their magnificent dance over the upcoming time period. Capturing the best photos we could and trying to avoid frost bite in the -17 Celsius chill, we returned to our campsite and climbed into our sleeping bags to sleep. It was 02:00 and now my birthday. There is something special about seeing the northern lights for the first time on your birthday. Even if your fingertips, toes and face are frozen. Now, we were cozy and fast asleep in the warm van.

Northern Lights, Horses and Cold! Day one began harmlessly enough. It was still pitch black outside at nine-thirty when we set out to walk to the van rental place.  

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Donald Trump, Colin Kaepernick, And The Politics Of Football

Football Is Trumpball Lite Cross-posted with TomDispatch.com

The Super Bowl is superfluous this year. Who needs a reality show about violence, domination, and sexism, not to mention brain damage, now that we have Trumpball, actual reality that not only authenticates football’s authoritarianism but transforms us from bystanders into victims? Before this game is over, the players may swarm the grandstands and beat the hell out of us.

Pro football actually helped prepare us for the new president’s upset victory by normalizing a basic tenet of jock culture: anyone not on the team is an enemy, the Other. And it’s open season on opponents, the fans of opponents, critics, and women (unless they’re cheerleaders or moms). Trash talking is the lingua franca of this Trumpian moment, bullying the default tactic.

Yet pro football has also provided us with the single most vivid image of current American resistance to racism. Last summer, before a pre-season game, San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick sat during the playing of the national anthem as a symbol of his refusal “to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color.” As the season progressed, he started going down on his right knee when the anthem began, revealing that he was wearing black socks decorated with pigs in police hats.  These, he said, represented “rogue cops that are allowed to hold positions in police departments.” He would eventually stop wearing them, convinced that the socks were a tactical mistake.

Kaepernick’s non-violent gestures, done initially without fanfare, were the most powerful message from SportsWorld since that other hard year of despair and determination, 1968, when two American Olympic medalists, Tommie Smith and John Carlos, raised their black-gloved fists in Mexico City.

Incredibly, Smith, Carlos, and Kaepernick were all tutored by the same man, sociologist Harry Edwards. In the 1960s, as a young San Jose State professor, Edwards created the Olympic Project for Human Rights as his protest against racism. Now a retired Berkeley professor, he has been a long-time adviser to the 49ers.

Forty-nine years ago, as symbols of the so-called Athletic Revolution -- an attempt to resist the tyrannical rule of coaches and administrators, particularly over African-American football players and college track-and-field competitors -- Smith and Carlos were marginalized. Instead athletic “activism” morphed into hustling for sneaker endorsements.  But this time, Edwards promises, will be different. “The evident trajectory of the Kaepernick ‘movement’ (and the growing support among athletes for its concerns),” he recently wrote, “means that there are going to be some turbulent times over the upcoming Trump era as the pressure on athletes to stand up and speak out escalates.”

You won’t be surprised to learn that Donald Trump immediately disparaged Kaepernick’s gesture, telling a Seattle radio station, "I think it’s a terrible thing, and you know, maybe he should find a country that works better for him, let him try, it’s not gonna happen." He then moved on, as he tends to do -- perhaps because he was already bored or perhaps because it triggered a memory of his own disastrous pro football days.

Sports Owner Trump Destroyed His League

Donald Trump is an old story for me.  When I first began talking to him in the mid-1980s -- I was then a sports reporter for CBS Sunday Morning with Charles Kuralt -- he had just bought the New Jersey Generals of the United States Football League (USFL), then in its second year of operation. The USFL played its games in the spring and summer to avoid direct competition with the National Football League for fans and TV access, but did manage to bid successfully against the established league for a number of star players, including Herschel Walker, Steve Young, and Doug Flutie.

In the course of our first long interview, Trump assured me that he was not a man consumed by his latest purchase. (“If the league isn’t successful, then, you know, it’s off to the next thing.”)  He did, however, boast -- he was already The Donald, of course -- that his involvement gave the USFL “a little bit more warlike posture toward the establishment,” and that the “magic” of Trump Tower would enhance the image of the league. He insisted that he didn’t much like attention himself, but felt obligated to do this interview because I represented “a great show.” Even then, he spoke in the adjectival style (Great! Sad!) now familiar to all Americans.  At the time, though I sensed that it was all mud, I was a journalist and at least it covered the ground.

When I asked him about reports that the USFL’s hidden agenda was to eventually merge with the successful National Football League or at least pressure it into admitting some of the upstart franchises, he responded genially, “I hadn’t thought of it to be perfectly honest,” adding, “I don’t think it’s in the cards for many years.”

Of course, Trump turned out to be the leader of a group of owners pushing the new league to shift its games to the fall, a direct challenge to the NFL. An anti-trust lawsuit against that league followed, ending in a Pyrrhic victory.  The USFL received a judgment of $3 and collapsed, having lost tens of millions of dollars in the process.

It was all so Trumpian, so much the shape of things to come. Maybe I didn’t take him seriously enough then because we both came from Queens, a scorned outer borough of New York City, or because he was already a well-known publicity hound and classic boldface tabloid name. But I did come away with two insights that helped me in later interviews with him (when the subject was real estate or politics): first, that he would always respond to a question, even a needling one, as long as he was its subject, and second, that he had a gift for what I came to think of as predatory empathy.  He was remarkably skilled at reading what his interviewer wanted to hear and then reshaping himself and his answer accordingly.

Once he read me as a liberal with a weakness for pop philosophy, he typically answered a question about the moral responsibilities of sports owners by offering this supposed credo: “I tend to think that you should be decent, you should be fair, you should be straight, and you should do the best you can. And beyond that, you can’t do very much really. So yeah, you do have a responsibility.” Then, as if adding a note in the margins of his own bland comment, he added, “I’m not sure to what extent that responsibility holds.”

Typically, he had swallowed his own tail and who knew what he meant, including him. Through the 1990s, as the host of a local PBS public affairs show and then back writing columns at the New York Times, I watched his mean-spirited pomposity swell as he filled airtime and notebooks. But what more could a journo ask?

Once, for reasons I can’t recall, I returned to that supposed sense of “responsibility” of his, asking him if he’d like to “run the country as you have run your organization.” 

“I would much prefer that somebody else do it. I just don’t know if the somebody else is there,” he replied, as if already imagining January 20, 2017. “This country,” he added ominously, “needs major surgery.”

“Are you the surgeon?”

“I think I’d do a fantastic job, but I really would prefer not doing it.”

I’ve thought about Donald Trump ever since -- he did have that effect on you -- and have come to realize that he’s an avatar of the worst aspects of jock culture. (He had, in fact, been a good high school athlete.) His kind of boastful, bullying, blowfish persona is tolerated in locker rooms (as in sales offices, barracks, trading floors, and legislatures) just as long as the big dog can deliver. Which he has done. It’s no surprise that his close pals and business associates in SportsWorld include two other notorious P.T. Barnums, boxing’s Don King and wrestling’s Vince McMahon (whose wife, Linda, is now Trump's pick to head the Small Business Administration).

Another typical jock culture trait is rolling over for the alpha(est) dog in your arena, be it the team leader, coach, owner, or even the president of Russia. One wonders, had Trump become a successful NFL owner, would he have wimped out as completely as New England Patriots’ owner Robert Kraft did when Russian President Vladimir Putin pocketed his Super Bowl ring in 2005 and walked out of their Moscow meeting room with it. It was never returned. Under pressure from the George W. Bush White House, according to Kraft, he claimed it was a gift, only to change his story years later. Kraft is a Democrat, while his coach, Bill Belichick, and his quarterback, Tom Brady, are friends of Trump. The Patriots, the best team of our era, will, of course, be playing the Atlanta Falcons in the Super Bowl.

A Jock Spring?

Colin Kaepernick, alas, won’t be getting a Super Bowl ring, at least not this year. The 49ers, long a successful and lucrative franchise, ended up with a 2-14 record this season. The 29-year-old Kaepernick is a scrambler with a powerful arm.  Once an exciting prospect who led his team to the Super Bowl in 2013, only his second pro season and first as a starter, he seemed to have lost some of his mojo in recent years.

He’s still an interesting character, though: biracial, raised by white adoptive parents, smart, and curious. His torso and arms are tattooed with religious phrases, and he ostentatiously kisses the “To God the Glory” tat on his right biceps after any touchdown, which became known as “Kaepernicking.”

His emergence as a progressive hero, however, surprised even Harry Edwards. “Nobody saw [Muhammad] Ali coming, nobody saw Kaepernick coming,” Edwards told Elliott Almond of the San Jose Mercury News. “He was in the tradition of people who tend to open up new paths. Nobody saw Dr. [Martin Luther] King coming.”

Putting Kaepernick in such a league may be a tad premature, but he has stimulated what might be called a Jock Spring, and not just because he promised to distribute his first million dollars in salary this season to community charities. Women soccer stars, high school football players and their coaches, National Football League and Women’s National Basketball players all began going down on one knee as the national anthem struck up. Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg called the gesture “dumb and disrespectful” before professing regret for her remark. Time put Kaepernick on its cover.  Trump blamed him, in part, for a decline in the NFL’s ratings.

The initial signs of a Jock Spring actually pre-date his protest. Last July, New York Knicks forward Carmelo Anthony posted on his Instagram page an old black-and-white photograph of a dozen young black athletes in suits and ties posed in protest at what was then a summit meeting of sports stars. The front row of that 1967 photo now seems like a sports Mt. Rushmore -- Bill Russell, Jim Brown, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Muhammad Ali, whose heavyweight title had been stripped from him after he refused to be drafted into the military. 

Anthony’s message called on “all my fellow ATHLETES to step up and take charge. Go to your local officials, leaders, congressman, assemblymen/assemblywoman and demand change. There’s NO more sitting back and being afraid of tackling and addressing political issues anymore. Those days are long gone. We have to step up and take charge. We can’t worry about what endorsements we gonna lose or who is going to look at us crazy. I need your voices to be heard. We can demand change.”

It was a surprising statement from a player best known for not passing the ball enough.  A few days later, he joined fellow NBA stars Dwyane Wade, Chris Paul, and LeBron James onstage at ESPN’s annual awards show, where LeBron declared: “It’s not about being a role model, it’s not about our responsibility to the tradition of activism. I know tonight we’re honoring Muhammad Ali, the GOAT [Greatest of All Time], but to do his legacy any justice, let’s use this moment as a call to action for all professional athletes to educate ourselves, explore these issues, speak up, use our influence, and renounce all violence.”

A month later, Kaepernick sat down.

“Athletes have the biggest megaphone in the country,” Edwards said to Almond in their Q-and-A. “Everybody identifies with the athletes. Kap has opened up a conversation about what is probably the most convoluted, the most difficult, and the longest-standing and intractable issue in terms of race relations in this country: This is why it was so important for Colin to take off the pig socks.

“I told him that we went through that in the 1960s and it was one of the biggest mistakes we ever made. Ultimately, we are going to have to sit down across the table with the police and hopefully come to some resolution with some of these life-and-death issues.”

As the season ended, Kaepernick’s teammates awarded him their Len Eshmont Award for “inspirational and courageous play,” making a mockery of reports in the media that he had been alienating the rest of the team. Edwards describes the media and the sports establishment as clueless when it comes to Kaepernick’s growing support among athletes -- a phenomenon that promises “some turbulent times over the upcoming Trump era.”

Kaepernick’s most transcendent transgression has been the way he punctured the comfort of football’s sweaty sanctuary, letting in both light and some hard truths -- including this reality: that objectified and extravagantly well-paid performers can still have real thoughts about the world outside the white lines, a world becoming more and more perilous for those who think Trumpball should not be the national pastime.

Trump has said he will not be attending the Super Bowl -- that might even be true -- but he will sit for the usual pre-game presidential interview, this year with Bill O’Reilly of Fox, which will broadcast on the holiest event of the sports calendar. Should you tune in? While we’re still a democracy, make your own decision. Do whatever you did for the Inauguration.

Robert Lipsyte is the jock culture correspondent for TomDispatch. He returns after having been on leave to explore the belly of the beast as Ombudsman for ESPN. His most recent book is his memoir, An Accidental Sportswriter.

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