#slightly wine drunk thoughts aren’t ones I should be typing in public

[jakekazansky]

I was gonna try to write while I watched my uncle bowl tonight but then one of the ladies I used to bowl with bought me a glass of wine

[jangmi-latte]

May i request headcanons for all dorm leaders reacting to a drunk s/o. Thank you!

❞ 𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐲? 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤? 𝐎𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝?  ❝

➻ content: four doughnuts!

➻ warnings: slightly nsfw on leona’s part!! mentions of alcohol!

➻ comments: since i haven’t tweaked my rules *wink* just yet, i’ve made coco use the cafe’s wheel to pick four dorm leaders for this request! hope you don’t mind! also, i don’t and haven’t drunk alcohol — ma'am this is a cafe —, therefore i did as much research (also known as making my waiters drunk) as i can when it comes to being drunk. cough also from seeing my relatives and friends go drunk cough.

Ⅰ.

༄ kalim is from a wealthy family so it’s no surprise he’s exposed to alcohol, mostly wine but kalim – being as he is still under age – doesn’t really like drinking.

༄ what he didn’t expect was for someone to sneak alcohol into one of his banquets unnoticed. even jamil didn’t notice due to his hectic schedule.

༄ sam, what have you been selling in your shop–

༄ it was a clear liquid. having nearly the same viscosity as water, you were unaware of how much you were drinking. let’s say you’re unaware of what alcohol tastes like. sure, it tastes weird but oh boy, the heat that spread out through your neck and body was quite addictive. the way it tickles your tongue makes you giggle at times.

༄ this is some odd kind of water huh, just what else does the land of hot sands have?

༄ as it was your first time drinking, it wasn’t a surprise to see you get drunk after three glasses. apparently, it was white wine. is kalim familiar with this kind of alcohol? yes. but he doesn’t know it was being served.

༄  kalim started to notice your sudden change in demeanour when you started to giggle a lot. you would suddenly cling on his arm or nuzzle your nose against his neck. 

༄  kalim's delighted by your affection, oblivious to the fact you're drunk as fuck and will continue to giggle out of nowhere.

༄ if jamil pointed out your sudden change of attitude, kalim would go “oooohhh” and just laugh along with you.

༄ now jamil would question if kalim’s drunk too.

༄ if your laughing would go out of control, ah, our little sunshine would try to stop you and drag you away. you’re light and you’re not struggling so he could easily drag you away from the banquet and into a spare room that’s next to his.

༄ if you woke up with a hangover the next day, kalim is immediately by your side while also asking help from jamil to tend to you. 

༄ you can not get away from his stories and it would make you extremely embarrassed that you suddenly turned into a maniac during one of his parties. did anyone take a video? who knows. 

༄ you now hereby made a mental note not to drink alcohol ever again. just wait till you go to kalim’s hometown where there’s A LOT of alcohol to drink. you can’t avoid it but hey at least you know how you act when you’re drunk.

༄ kalim won’t be talkative about what happened but can you guarantee it won’t slip from his lips every now and then every time a banquet is brought up to a conversation?

Ⅱ.

༄ okay, let’s give more attention to leona’s homeland, yeah?

༄ so there’s a party. it’s not dedicated to anyone, perhaps it’s an event or an occasion for the land. the royal household mostly consists of adults, it’s pretty self-explanatory that there will be alcohol.

༄ leona is used to the taste of alcohol. he isn’t exactly an active drinker but his tolerance is high. it would take him how many glasses before he’s drunk. there are different types of alcohols on the table. ranging from beer to whiskey. heck, there’s even absinthe.

༄ he chose to drink the safest alcohol served and that was a martini. since leona doesn’t want to interact with anyone – his brother is loud and catching most of the attention anyways – he just sat at the sides. he couldn’t really sleep with how loud his home was.

༄ what caught his emerald eyes was you. Oh man, was he surprised. you were easily drinking shots and shots of vodka without any trouble. sure he has seen you drink before but seeing you be this energetic and even rather frisky was….quite a turn on.

༄ though he is quite worried, he would love to see what happens when you get drunk. he thought you would just drop and fall asleep on the table.

༄ hell no.

༄ the moment you spotted him with half-lidded eyes, you sauntered over to him with a shot in had and sat on his lap. was he bothered? not in the slightest but he would glare at some men who would stare at you being all wanton on him.

༄ his first instinct? protect you. sure, you’re tipsy or drunk but that doesn’t mean leona would take this as an advantage and just have sex with you despite your seductive advances. he doesn’t mind you being all sexy on him but you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s his turn to pull the responsible card in the relationship.

༄ your consent is very important to him and drunk isn’t consenting.

༄ another thing, he wants you to just put a show for him ONLY, not in public. he’s possessive but your body is for his eyes only. 

༄, when you pressed your lips against his, leona would kiss you back for a brief second before pulling away once he noticed your sultry touches. you’re whining but this is leona’s chance to carry you to his room. both your drinks left downstairs while he just cuddles you to bed. 

༄ he’ll stop any of your persuasive actions since he could see you’re eyes drooping. he can make love to you some other time. sober you is better. if you won’t stop, ah leona would just passionately kiss you ‘til you eventually passed out.

༄ but that wouldn’t stop any future teasing from him. he’s not gonna lie, it was sexy to see you try and dominate him but again, be sober. 

Ⅲ.

༄ like leona, vil is not an exception to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang. being a  popular influencer/model/artist means being invited to gatherings or after production dinners.

༄ he had a couple drinks here and there but vil doesn’t like getting drunk or even intoxicating himself too much. he knows what a drunk mind can do and he has an image to hold to even let something as getting drunk slip his mind. 

༄ in short, vil hasn’t experienced getting drunk and avoids doing so.

༄ he’s also picky with what alcohol he consumes. he prefers those that have a small alcohol percentage, those that don’t leave a smell, and those that aren’t strong to taste. he’s strict with his beauty regimen.

༄ so, let’s say you were invited to one of vil’s productions and had an after-production dinner. it wasn’t exactly a formal dinner, just a casual one held by the director in a private restaurant.

༄ there was wine and brandy. our dear model picked wine, of course, and you somehow got curious with the taste of brandy. he wouldn’t stop you, he simply warned you to keep the amount stable and not drink too much. he’ll keep an eye on you just in case you might get carried away. better safe than sorry.

༄ vil took only one glass and was drinking it slowly while you looked like you were going to puke. but it was somehow addicting so you took another shot. he was occupied by conversing with other artists/staff that he would simply look at you from the corner of his eye at all times.

༄ up until he noticed you leaning on your hand propped up by your elbow and just staring at the glass did he finally approach you and immediately asked how many shots did you take.

༄ “four....?” you slurred before pulling him to sit next to you and leaning on his shoulder while hugging his arm. 

༄ you were quiet, thank goodness you weren’t really that drunk, but you’re intoxicated alright.

༄ “vil…?” “yes?” “what is rook doing over there?”

༄ okay, now you’re hallucinating. you were pointing at a staff member who nearly had the same haircut as rook. it was his cue to bring you back to pomefiore. Once he was able to excuse himself, he helped you stand up.

༄ sadly, you couldn’t really walk properly without tripping and all that so let’s be thankful that vil does weights. he isn’t keen to the idea of carrying you back and calling a cab to head back since it isn’t really a sight to see.

༄ so, he called rook and made him open the mirror while he carried you bridal-style back to the dorm.

༄ epel is jealous after he found out you were able to have alcohol.

Ⅳ.

༄ we’re going to add our king of hearts to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang.

༄ okay, maybe just the never-drank-alcohol-gang.

༄ riddle has a strict regimen on himself too. he considers alcohol as a junk food so it’s a big no to him. it’s also going to be a taboo for his mother. 

༄ along with kalim, he’s still a minor. alcohol is not that really discussed with anything involved in a conversation with him. academics and schools are top priority, alcohol has no space in his brain nor diet.

༄ he’s not dumb with what alcohol looks like though, so when he saw you drinking beer when he visited ramshackle, he was beyond confused and surprised. his antennas shot up too.

༄  he would scold and question on why you’re drinking something that can harm your liver and you just calmed him down by saying you barely even drink these and that you needed relief from school requirements. you also reassured it was only one bottle and you would drink it slowly. you won’t get drunk.

༄ our king of hearts is confused. since when was alcohol a mood reliever?

༄ he would huff and keep an eye on you despite being all cranky. you would just giggle it off and begin doing your homework again while he tutors you. both of you wouldn’t even notice the increasing bottles of beer that’s popping up beside you as you subconsciously drank more.

༄ don’t ask where the beers are coming from.

༄ when you started to huff and get irritated at riddle did he notice your sudden mood change. 

༄ his eyes grew wide when he saw four bottles of beer beside you. poor boy doesn’t know what to do. should he bring you to bed? feed you something? wait, are you even drunk?

༄ you were getting all cranky, you were ‘tsk’ing and growling at certain things. you would rant and pull on your hair when you would get a mistake. it was so unlike you that riddle doesn’t know if he’s getting mad himself or concerned.

༄ he eventually needed to call trey for help. when the vice dorm leader arrived, trey quickly calmed you down and sent you to bed where you quickly passed out. 

༄ poor riddle received a thorough explanation from trey about what happened and that, as your boyfriend, he should be more aware.

༄ riddle just removed all alcohols of any kind from your existence the end.

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 4

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

there's a place between the bank of a river and the actual water where the soil is soft. it's more like silt, leftover grains of earth not yet swept away. they're extremely delicate, made up of minerals and rock.

I love the earth. I love feeling it under my feet and the way it gives into my fingertips when they push through the surface. I love when I can sense the twisted roots of every plant. they reach for moisture, thin tendrils. there's something very pure about all of it.

which is why seeing the faceless corpse of a woman splayed out on the banks causes my stomach to wrench.

I guess it isn't the only reason, but it certainly doesn't help.

"the edges of these cuts are smooth, not torn," Rossi straightens up from his spot by her body. I don't know how he can get so close. when he waits for me to say something, my lips purse.

"so he must have used a sharp instrument to remove her face." I cross my arms over my chest. the water in her lungs makes me wonder how much pain she was in, how much it hurts to drown. unimaginable.

the slightly blue undertones to her skin imprint themselves in my mind, and my only thought is that I'm glad her eyes aren't open; I get nauseous when they are. instead of dwelling on the gaunt nature of her body, I speak to one of the crime scene experts about the time of death. his voice is barely audible over the rush of water against stones.

we spend about half an hour exploring the site, although something about this place in particular puts me off. I keep edging towards the sides of the river.

"we should meet Aaron back at the station. ready to go, kiddo?" Rossi catches my attention, beginning to make the short hike up the incline. he walks carefully to avoid sullying what I'm sure are expensive shoes, his face contorted with mild disgust. the nickname makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"sure." I turn to scramble behind him, my gaze catching on the scene. jewel-toned leaves heavy with rain, tipping to spill weighted drops in a slow, drowsy fall. and it's now filled with police officers and crime scene experts hauling this poor woman's body to somewhere not so public.

what a world.

we get in the car and Rossi turns the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. I sit with my hands folded neatly in my lap; I'm rigid, though grateful, when working with Rossi. it's something I still need to get used to.

"you okay, there?" he asks as we turn out into the street. my eyes turn away from the locust swarm of cop cars that are parked by the crime scene and I take a deep breath.

"yes, why?"

"you're not usually this quiet."

"really?" I deflect. I've never been particularly chatty at times like this. my mind usually gets sucked into what I'm seeing, memorizing every detail against my will for replay later that night.

"I'm a profiler, too, Clea. and a much more seasoned one than you," he glances my way with raised eyebrows. his features are softer than the photos I've seen before this. even the lecture I attended painted him in a different light. I forget how old he is. but his eyes return to the road while he sighs. "I know when something is wrong."

"nothing in particular," I shift in my seat a little. although I'm sure he gives great advice, I'm not ready to share with anyone the dreams that I've been having. "just still getting settled in, I think."

he must notice that I'm lying; I've never been quite good at it, even in front of non-profilers. but Rossi senses the discomfort that I'm trying to hide and nods.

"well, if it helps, I'm going to be having a wine tasting at my mansion once we get back to Quantico. the whole team is invited."

my words get knotted up in my throat as I think on this. "wine tasting?"

"yes. I've got plenty to spare." there's a slight archness to his tone. I smile.

"to be honest, I really don't think I've got the skill set for that," my limbs relax a little. "my experience is pretty limited."

"and you think the others know a lot?" he waves his hand dismissively. we both laugh.

"okay, then." I nod. "thanks, Rossi."

"Prego!" the sudden Italian interjection makes me roll my eyes playfully.

...

our case doesn't take nearly as much time as I expected. with the unsub's narcissism and general lack of intelligence, we catch him rather quickly and are home before the end of the week. there's a collective gratitude for this fact on the plane ride home which takes the form of lively card games and plenty of friendly trash-talking. we also enthusiastically discuss getting together in the evening.

the wine-tasting event that has been so praised by the team turns out to really be just an excuse for everyone to get drunk while draining Rossi's liquor supply. I've had about three different types of alcohol and, beyond the color, I have no idea what kind.

Penelope is pouring more chardonnay in her glass when she offers some to me. I nod, watch the lovely liquid fill up.

"I'd like to make a toast." Rossi announces, much to the feigned chagrin of Prentiss and Hotch. they roll their eyes while the Italian raises a scotch glass into the air. we're in the kitchen, standing around the counter while bantering about our personal lives and past cases.

"keep it short, Dave. I have to head out, soon." Hotch reminds. Rossi gives him a look, but then turns his eyes to me with a paternal affection.

"to Clea," he says, the rest of the team breaking into smiles. "and her hopefully very long career on the team-- if she can stand us."

there's a chuckle that rolls through the group, but then we all clink glasses. even Reid, who has been downing sparkling cider at an alarming rate, taps his flute against mine. I smile at him, at everyone who is now flooding me with questions. I get a happy, bubbly feeling while I drink. Penelope drops her head on my shoulder and mumbles something that I can't quite understand. JJ talks to Spencer about something, his eyes drifting between the contents of his cup and the clock on the wall. he's distracted by something.

"you okay there?" Emily leans against the counter next to me. she's following my line of sight until it lands on JJ and the boy genius. I nod.

"yeah. just thinking."

"about?"

"how it would feel to be this rich." I send her a smirk. she snorts.

"I would love to know."

"how often do you guys have these things?" I peer around at the guests. everyone seems to be accustomed to the behemoth household that Rossi keeps, except for me. and all of it is so clean, too.

"here? only a few times a year. Rossi doesn't like having people over." she says the last part with a laugh, nursing her drink. I cross my arms.

"fair enough."

"I think people are gonna be heading home, soon, though." she checks her watch. I remember how almost everyone here is bound somehow to someone else, a family or significant other or someone who misses them. I'm not tired at all.

"what about you?"

"I have date night plans with Sergio." she grins.

"I didn't know you have a boyfriend." I raise my eyebrows at this knowledge. Emily seems like the type of person to play the field; her settling down with one person is surprising by itself.

"Sergio is my cat," she tells me. "much more cleanly."

"even better." I laugh. we discuss the merits of owning a pet over dating people until JJ decides that she needs to get back to her family. Hotch is heading out, too, and the steady departure stream of guests begins to form. it's not very late and I'd much rather do something else than go home and watch TV, so I survey the room.

"hey, Reid." I find myself standing beside him while he puts on his coat. it's got elbow patches and there's a scarf that he wraps around his neck to accompany it. he peeks at me curiously.

"yes?"

"would you wanna get a coffee or something?" I grab my jacket off the hanger. before he can say no and shy away from my offer, I explain. "I'm just not in the mood to get home right now."

"uh," his eyes dart down to his shoes, then back up at me. "sure. yeah, that would be... fun."

"awesome." I beam. ever since we hung out in that museum in Boston, I've been thinking about how to get to Spencer. maybe it's just because he's been the slowest to warm up to me, but I'm getting more and more curious about him. that moment when he did something playful-- there has to be more of that. and we obviously have some things in common. it might be nice to have a friend like that, someone with whom I can go to art exhibits.

we all thank Rossi for a lovely evening and I'm about to ask if Spencer wants to Uber somewhere when he starts walking purposefully toward a gorgeous yellow car. it's old-- like, 1950's refurbished, old-- and well cared for.

"whoa." I say as he opens the passenger side door for me in a surprisingly courteous move. I slide inside and breathe in the delicious scent of leather and something crisp and sharp. I wait until he gets in on the other side to ask my questions. "is this yours?"

"yes, actually. I got it about a year ago and I don't drive it very often." he runs slender fingers over the wheel, touching it with a quiet admiration. I turn to him in the dark, the glow from his own headlights casting pale shadows over his face as he starts the thing up. it rumbles to life in a charming, old-timey way.

the sounds of the engine defuse the silence between us as we drive into the city. Spencer almost forgets I'm there, the muscles in his wrists and arms relaxing as he handles the steering wheel. I, on the other hand, am painfully aware of his presence.

every time we make a turn, every time his lips part, I start to think he's going to say something. but he never does, and there appears to be no inclination whatsoever. I wonder if I should ask him some random question to get him rambling, but the nervous energy he usually radiates has softened to something more muted.

it's entertaining when he speaks. I think it's also a guard against vulnerability; at least, that's why I speak so much when I'm anxious. I take his silence as a compliment.

finally, he manages to maneuver his way into a parking spot. I glance around the street, not recognizing the place.

"what is this?" I ask curiously. his hand wraps around the stick shift and parks, turns off the vehicle.

"I come here on the weekends." he glances briefly at me before climbing out of the car. I get out and watch him come around to my side. he's only wearing a cardigan over his button-up, which looks surprisingly cozy.

"so, what kind do you usually get?" I ask. we start to walk down the sidewalk, passing streetlamps and small individual trees that are just beginning to go barren with autumn. the restaurants around here are still full of people.

"coffee? black, usually."

"with five or six sugars." I recall, and he turns to me. there's a dimple in his cheek that tells me he's amused by my memory.

"what about you?"

"I like an iced caramel macchiato, or just a latte." I muse. he pulls open the door to a cute corner place with a steaming mug on the logo. it must be exclusive to the neighborhood.

inside, bookshelves are crammed with used titles and people getting a late-night caffeine fix. most of them are glued to laptop screens or flipping through books. it smells warm and delicious.

"do you know what you want?" he asks, drawing me from my observations. I realize that I've been looking everywhere but at the actual menu. it's drawn in curvy chalk.

"yes." I step forward and the barista behind the register smiles at me. I order my favorite drink and am about to ask my co-worker what he wants, but Spencer cuts me off by ordering and then paying for me. I raise my eyebrows as he hands over the crumpled dollar bills, pleasantly surprised.

when we go to wait for our drinks, he shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn't say anything.

"that's not fair." I frown.

"what's not fair?" his voice is distracted.

"I invited you-- I should have paid for both of us."

"it's okay." he gives me a tight-lipped smile. I find myself taking a step close and poking his arm.

"you're so polite."

"thank you." he doesn't know what to do with this information and it partly amuses me.

"so, I know you're from Nevada, but that's pretty much all of my Spencer Reid knowledge." I oh-so-gracefully segue into the topic. our coffees show up on the counter and we grab them before finding an empty table towards the back of the shop. it's in both of our first instincts to seek out the corner spots.

"well, I--" he starts, but then I remember something else.

"and I'm fully aware of your IQ and plethora of degrees, so don't give me that trivia information." I tease. he's looking down at the lid of his coffee. his eyelids are the color of something slightly bruised, and he lets out a nervous laugh.

"what else is there to know?"

"everything." I grin, my elbows resting on the tabletop. it's a small surface, so much so that even leaning forward a little bit gives off an air of intimacy that makes me hesitant. "we're spending a lot of time together, so you might as well tell me about you."

"I'm really not very interesting." it's an easy way to dodge questions and I don't want to push him too hard or scare him away. I just want to be friends, and that can be kind of hard when I don't know the first thing about him.

"I'll start then, if you'd like." I propose with a smirk. he nods and swallows, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing.

"well, I was born in Atlanta, but I grew up in Montana. my family still lives there, though. I'm a big fan of the Real Housewives of Atlanta, I'm a scorpio sun, and I hate mushrooms." I fight a smile as I list random facts about myself in an attempt to get him to relax. I'm not hoping for him to divulge his biggest life traumas; there's no pressure.

it works. his high cheekbones poke out a little as he hides a smile behind his drink. my eyebrow quirks at his reaction.

"okay, now you have to go!" I prod. he puts his coffee down, though he fidgets with the sleeve on the cup.

"I guess I'm technically a Scorpio, too." he concedes.

"what? no." I almost laugh at the prospect. at first take, he doesn't really align.

"yes."

"what's your moon sign?" I narrow my eyes.

"I'm not sure, actually." this seems to frustrate him almost as much as it surprises me.

"you'll need to find that out if you want to understand your chart better." I shrug, leaning back in my seat. he fixes his gaze on my face as he tries to read the seriousness of my words. I'm only partly joking.

"what's your problem with mushrooms?" he asks instead, prompting my eyes to widen.

"don't get me started!" this time, I lean my elbows on the table. "I just don't like the thought of eating a fungus. and the texture--"

"what about milk, though?" he asks suddenly. I pause, mouth still open as I think on this.

"what about it?"

"is it weird to you that people drink cow milk in the same way that it's weird to eat fungi?"

"I suppose not." my brows draw together.

"lots of things humans do are 'weird'." he puts the word in air-quotes and it brings a smile to my lips.

"you're opinionated, aren't you?" I tilt my head a bit. this side of Spencer is new to me.

"mushrooms are rich in various nutrients and have been consistently used across time and cultures for medicinal purposes-- not to mention the burgeoning therapy treatments now in development with micro-dosing psilocybin." he replies. I giggle.

"big on shrooms?"

"what? no, I--" he gets a little flustered, shifting his sitting position and getting a rosy tint to his cheeks.

"I'm just joking, Reid." I set my palm flat against the table, something of a truce between us. he runs a hand through his hair. I move on. "I think the psilocybin research is actually really fascinating."

"isn't it?" Spencer's features appear somewhat ghostly under the café lights. he's got a sort of unusual face, although that isn't a bad thing at all. it's interesting.

he begins to talk about depression treatments that are being developed from shrooms, gesticulating wildly. his watch glints on his sleeve as he speaks. I notice the pretty arch of his eyebrows and the way he speaks through a grin. his voice has got a soothing quality to it, each word an individually selected puzzle piece. it's clear, low, and a bit filled with a childlike passion.

I rest my chin on my palm as he rambles, occasionally drinking my coffee and adding in my own thoughts. I think that Spencer could go for days if I let him, that he could talk enough to fill the pages of those books on the wall.

I'm not sure how long we sit in the café-- it could be an hour or three. we jump from medicine to philosophy to his obsession with Medieval literature. this, being something I know almost nothing about, intrigues me.

"my mom was actually a professor of it, so she read a lot of those books to me as a kid." he tells me, not even stumbling over the word was. either she died when he was young or she isn't dead at all-- there is no loss in the weight of this fact. I don't ask about it, but I pocket the piece away for later.

"explains the chivalry." I joke. he frowns.

"sorry?"

"your manners."

"oh," he blushes slightly. "she's always romanticized it, I think."

the change in tense tells me she must not have passed. I run my fingertip over the rim of my drink.

"does she live back in Vegas?" I hope it isn't too invasive.

"yeah, she does," his eyes flit between the tabletop and my face. "she, um, lives in a sanitarium."

his willingness to confide this almost takes me visibly aback. he seemed so hesitant to share personal details earlier this evening; something in my chest warms.

"oh," my voice is thick in my throat. I don't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"it's fine." it's not, but I get not wanting to dive into it.

my intentions really weren't to prod at something that obviously is close to his heart, so I sit a bit straighter in my seat and look around the shop. we're the last people here, the only other sounds from the two baristas and the whir of machinery.

"are you-- do you wanna head out?" I ask. part of me feels no desire to leave. we probably should. it's getting late and I never know how much sleep I'm going to get. the hours for this job aren't steady by any definition of the word.

"sure."

when my head turns back from peering around the café, he's staring at me. I smile, stand up and push my chair in. he follows, both of us throwing our empty cups away before heading out.

it's much colder. a slight shudder runs through my body as we step into the night. involuntary, but Spencer falters a moment on the pavement.

"uh," he clumsily shrugs off his cardigan. "sorry." hands the thing to me.

my cheeks flush in surprise. his awkwardness is contagious, apparently.

nevertheless, I wrap the thing around my shoulders and feel a little better. it's warm. we keep walking in silence back to the car, my head now filling with thoughts that I can't quite sift through.

he's a very nice boy. I start to feel grateful that my craving for caffeine has given me the opportunity to get to know him better. when I glance at him for a second, his head ducking beneath a low-hanging branch of one of the sidewalk trees, he catches me and offers a ghost of a smile.

baby spencer is such a sub I literally can't--

[furidojasutin]

Prompt: Pride

Pairing: Fraxus (Freed x Laxus)

Universe: Canon

Rating: K+

a/n: Written for Fraxus Week Eve! I’m not sure if I’ll be able to write something for every single of the nine prompts of the Fraxus Week but I’ll definitely try! So I hope you’ll enjoy the first one <3

June is the month of pride. There's a lot of days for a lot of different things, persons, events... but many of them seem to be chosen at random. Pride month is different. It's important, and exists for a definite reason.

Magnolia is a tolerant town. One would rarely come across hostile people that are resident in the very town. Visitors and new members, however, could cause issues. And unfortunately, even though one should be able to expect it since it's only natural, there are still too many people who dismiss (and worse) the wide range of perfectly normal sexualities and identities.

As Freed sat in the middle of the crowded guild hall, he couldn't help but think of how lucky he was with all the people he had gathered around him. His friends, his true family members and – of course – his boyfriend. For as long as he could remember those people had shown him nothing but understanding and tolerance, and not only regarding his sexuality. That he was gay hadn't been a secret for all too long – and they had made coming out so much easier.

He's had a quite rocky start with all of them, and it had been his fault entirely. He'd been lost in a vision that was delusional and wrong. He didn't have to keep to himself and Laxus and the Raijinshuu. He wasn't better than them. They were all equal, and this is what a true precious bond was like.

He understood it now, and it was all thanks to them. Them, who had forgiven all four of them for the horrible deeds they had committed.

Glancing around Freed watched the mayhem unfold. It was loud and chaotic as usual; they were partying. Every evening was a reason to party this month. Then again, wasn't it always? It sure felt like this around here and if this feeling would get dimmed then there would definitely be something missing.

Silently, he reached for his mug of beer. Wine tended to be his preferred drink but this was one of the moments at which an ice-cold beer was irreplaceable. It was even better sharing the gesture with his boyfriend who was sitting next to him in comfortable silence, shaking his head upon hearing Natsu shout something incoherent.

“I give him five seconds.”

“Five seconds for what?”

“Till Erza steps in,” Laxus responded nonchalantly and imitate Freed's previous gesture. Reaching for the mug he took a big sip. “There she is.”

Right on cue the familiar redhead had caught her target. The rune mage followed her with his eyes and his lips twitched, hinting an incoming smirk. It was typical. “I'd be interested to know where Bixlow is,” he then added and turned his head now looking at Laxus.

The blond shrugged. “I've no damn clue where he went.”

“Perhaps it's better not to know.”

“What, you thinkin' he's making out with somebody in some random corner of the guild?”

Freed snorted. What? Bixlow, making out with somebody? He wasn't the type to just grab somebody and go for it. Bixlow could get flirty for fun but that was it. His best friend was also one of the only heterosexual people in the guild but he was a damn great ally and supporter to have. And on top of that he knew that he had laid his eyes on somebody; or at least that's what Freed assumed.

“That's not what I'm worrying about.”

“Right. He's not the type.”

“Then who is?”

Laxus just wanted to empty his mug but he paused. Freed was looking at him with a subtly raised brow and all the dragon slayer could do was to show a small grin, fangs showing slightly. “We are.”

At that, Freed couldn't help but give a short, deep laugh. He knew that this was an attempt to flirt and he gladly welcomed this attempt. Honestly, Laxus wasn't exactly wrong either. There had been the one or other time they had sneaked into a hall way just to get rid of some tension – non sexual! - and just to share some kisses and quick, almost innocent roaming hands.

The Raijinshuu's captain just wanted to respond when he cut himself off as suddenly Laxus and him got hugged together and he felt a kiss getting pressed to his cheek.

“You're what? Adorable? Too silent right now? Party poopers? A perfect match? Enlighten us!” Cana had slung her arm around the two men and grinned. The scent of alcohol wafted from her but that wasn't anything unusual. She was far from being drunk.

While Cana had also placed a quick peck on Laxus' cheek, Mirajane had been the one to press her lips against Freed's. She too was having one slender arm wrapped around her friends and chuckled at the brunette's retort. “I don't think there were talking about any of this, Cana.”

“And we're not damn adorable,” Laxus grumbled.

“I would argue against this, Laxus.” Mirajane hummed in her sweet voice.

“And you're not denying the other options?” Cana asked and removed her arms from the two men to jump onto the table to sit down on it. She almost ended up knocking over Laxus' mug as he had set it back down on the tabletop. Almost.

“We're no party poopers.” This time it was Freed who spoke and he took a sip of his own drink before putting his mug next to Laxus'. “We're pre-partying.”

“Pre-partying?” Cana spluttered out a charming laugh, then she shook her head. “Right, whatever yer sayin' big boss. But yer definitely too silent and a perfect match.”

The couple was comfortable being silent, watching their guild mates and conversing every once in a while. If the mood struck or the opportunity was there then they'd join whatever was going on. But for now they were perfectly fine; everybody seemed happy. They were happy.

“Thought so. Yer not arguing against those,” Cana continued and grabbed Laxus' mug of beer to empty it. It earned her a scowl from the dragon slayer but she hardly cared.

“No, we aren't,” Freed responded and the hint of a smile became visible on his face. It was genuine. Mira took note of this tiny change in his expression, and had to smile silently to herself.

It was silent for a moment then. Cana dragged the back of her hand along her mouth and crossed her legs while Mira watched how Laki and Kinana were having some sort of challenge with Lisanna and Levy.

There was something different about the atmosphere. The atmosphere became hardly ever negative when Fairy Tail partied but there was just something about this that made a change. Perhaps it was the colorfully decorated guild; colors of all pride and identify flags were gracing the big hall. Mirajane had the lesbian flag drawn on her cheeks while Cana had a bisexual one on hers.

Lucy was running around with a top in bisexual colors. Natsu wore a chain in demisexual colors. Gray was wearing a bisexual tie around his neck. Both Gajeel and Juvia shared pansexual colored best friend shirts. Evergreen wore a flower in her hair that was painted in demisexual colors and Mest wore a rainbow sleeveless shirt. Levy had a bisexuality bow in her hair, Erza had a bisexuality flag painted on her arm and so had Lisanna. Everyone had something to express themselves as obviously as possible.

Freed and Laxus were no exception. It had taken some convincing on Laxus' side but in the end they had agreed to both wear flag necklaces; the gay one for Freed and the demisexual one for Laxus. Freed's necklace had the shape of a lightning bolt while Laxus' necklace had the shape of sword.

Both had silently admitted to themselves that these chains were rather nice. They would keep them, definitely.

Though not only that. Pride month made it even easier to share affection in public. Of course, screw people who believe that any other couples than heterosexual ones should be allowed to show an exchange of chaste affection openly. Screw them anyway, yes, screw them. But it was still easier around this time.

Cana and Mirajane had vanished in the crowed again. Freed observed how Mirajane joined her brother and sister whilst Cana playfully slung and arm around poor Levy who got startled by the sudden approach. It had the brunette laugh heartily and utter a quick apology, making the script mage pout.

A quite light-hearted play, all of it, and Freed got himself to reveal another genuine smile that he didn't feel the need to suppress this time.

It was then that he felt a touch on his hand. Instinctively, he looked down and spotted another hand on his. He didn't need to wonder who this hand belonged to. He had felt and held it so many times in so many different ways; he would always recognize the feel of those fingers touching his.

Looking back up he stared right into orange eyes. Laxus' mien was unreadable, his usual stoic face. But there was something soft in his eyes, something Freed knew.

Slowly, he intertwined his fingers with Laxus' under the table. It wasn't often that they would hold hands at the guild, or at all really, and every time was special. This stage of their bond had taken some gotten used to. Now it felt so natural to be like this. To be open about their romantic feelings for each other and do couple things.

It had been a little awkward especially for the dragon slayer at first so having him initiate such actions meant even more than some might assume.

Finally, there was the hint of a smile on Laxus' face right back at him. He silently appreciated the gesture and the fact that Freed reciprocated it. The eye-contact didn't last long and they went back to enjoying each other's presence in silence for now. Their shoulders were touching fondly, their hands linked and right now they couldn't think of anything better to do.

Apart from, maybe, spending some time with their closest friends who now joined them at their table again with Evergreen continuously scolding Bixlow for anything he had done.

And honestly, it was such little things as well that they knew that everything was okay and how it was supposed to be.

[silicabeast34-blog]

Four Loko, Joose, and Sparks: An Abridged History of Caffeinated Alcohol

Remembrances of Four Loko — the super-caffeinated, alcoholic energy drink available in every convenience store for a narrow window of time before intervention by the Food and Drug Administration at the end of the aughts — are their own genre of internet content.

It is, if there is such a thing, the internet’s beverage, even years after the demise of its original formula. “If you can remember your Four Loko experiences, it wasn’t a Four Loko experience,” comedian Kady Ruth recently tweeted, in response to a question from comedian Akilah Hughes asking for stories about the drink’s golden age. “Why tell, when you can show a photo series?” dancer and YouTuber Ava Gordy replied, attaching an image of herself surrounded by Four Loko cans and wearing a gas mask. Photos from Four Loko’s golden days are scattered around on Tumblr and Imgur, captured with the high-flash, red-eyed weirdness of disposable cameras and early iPhones.

In an oral history of Four Loko, published on Grub Street last summer, the team of Ohio State buddies who created it explained how the product went from a small production run in 2005 to a splashy New York City debut in 2009 to more than $100 million in revenue in 2010. In short: They made the cans tall and they gave them a neon camouflage print to make them stand out. Plus, they raised the alcohol level as high as they legally could for a malt beverage.

2010 sounds like such a long time ago that I was honestly surprised when one of the Gawker pieces about the moment mentioned the fact that Obama was president. I wasn’t old enough to drink or permitted to have more than one other person in my car at the time, but even I feel a bubbly sort of weakness in my chest reading a blog post about the founder of Ron Jon Surf Shops getting arrested for driving under the influence of Four Loko or a blog post about Chuck Schumer comparing Four Loko to “a plague” devastating the country.

Four Loko was beloved, and it is beloved in death. But why? What’s so great about caffeinated sugar-water full of booze, in a can, retailing for $2.50, other than the obvious? The drink is infamous, and maybe an important cultural moment, but it’s not unique. There were also micro-eras for the nearly identical drinks Sparks and Joose, and the vodka Red Bull got almost two decades. In fact, there’s a long history of people trying to showily ruin their nights or their lives with disgusting combinations of chemicals dreamed up for some business purpose that doesn’t especially concern them. Caffeine and alcohol shouldn’t mix, but they have always mixed.

“People are always looking for a way to get high,” William Rorabaug, a historian at the University of Washington, tells me. “Throughout history. It seems to be part of the human condition.”

The last super-boozy generation was the baby boomers, he explains, but their children got into a health kick — yoga, meditation, bicycles, running — mostly because they saw a lot of bad stuff happen to their parents and older siblings as a result of alcohol, and because they preferred marijuana. Mothers Against Drunk Driving got big in the 1980s, and heavy alcohol consumption dipped throughout the 1990s. It didn’t rise again until about 2003, he says, when “very sweet mixed drinks” that went down easy and would mess you up with sugar and alcohol at the time became more popular.

Philip Dobard, vice president of the National Food and Beverage Foundation, explains to me that the drinking age was lower when he was a teenager, which was in the 1970s, and that he really liked drinking Long Island iced teas. Though they’ve been rebranded as premium cocktails in recent years, Long Island iced teas used to be Diet Coke and the leftover dregs of various well spirits. “It was the vodka Red Bull of its day,” he reminisces. “It was high alcohol, not particularly high caffeine, but caffeine. It was a test of one’s humanity. A test of one’s mortality. You’re young and healthy and you’re not familiar with loss. Injuries, when they occur, quickly heal.”

“It was a test of one’s humanity. A test of one’s mortality. You’re young and healthy and you’re not familiar with loss. Injuries, when they occur, quickly heal.”

A current fact sheet from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention about mixing caffeine and alcohol states that it makes drinkers feel too alert (when they should feel sleepy and want to stop drinking or at least sit down and not risk “alcohol-attributable harms”). It also points out that “caffeine has no effect on the metabolism of alcohol by the liver ... (it does not ‘sober you up’) or reduce impairment due to alcohol consumption,” and some studies have found people who mix caffeine and alcohol are three times more likely to leave a bar while still heavily intoxicated and four time more likely to attempt to drive home.

But caffeinated alcohol and the type of high it provides is communal, Dobard notes. It’s almost charming, to want to strip yourself of inhibitions in the presence of people you like. “I don’t think that impulse is new,” Dobard adds. “I think the commercial forces are new.”

He’s right. The vodka Red Bull was invented in the late ’90s by none other than … Red Bull, which chased athletes in ski towns and the rave scene on the West Coast by giving cases of free energy drinks to bartenders, even paying them thousands of dollars to put it on the menu. The first mainstream alcohol and fortified caffeine beverage was an industry plant.

As Haley Hamilton noted in MEL’s recent oral history of the vodka Red Bull, combining alcohol with caffeine has a two-part effect: “The alcohol can dull the effects of the caffeine (boring), or more problematically, the caffeine can dull the effects of the alcohol, meaning you can drink way more than you normally would without feeling super-hammered.” Dobard is not personally familiar with Four Loko, but sympathizes with the plight of a generation that just wants to get as drunk as everyone else got to.

“There’s nothing inherently illicit about combining caffeine and alcohol,” he points out, adding that coffee liqueurs and coffee-based cocktails have been around for hundreds of years, commonly used as post-dinner digestifs. “The problem occurs when there’s so much of one or the other and it’s so available that it becomes easily and widely abused as a substance. That’s typically when government agencies step in and recognize it as a public health risk.”

(In 2010, the New York Times offered the following very funny, very ahistoric thought on the demand for Four Loko: “It has long vexed club-hoppers and partygoers: how do you stay awake while drinking alcohol late into the night? For years, alcohol and soda sufficed.” Imagine if we’d just cool-mom-blind-eyed everyone for choosing to drink gas station cocktails instead of doing cocaine!)

Gawker’s Hamilton Nolan commented on the persecution of Four Loko in 2010, writing that it was part of a “full-blown scapegoating operation,” and pointing out the obvious: “Isn’t the real issue here that kids are stupid?”

Caffeinated alcohol is a distinctly American flavor of stupid. We do it over and over.

That’s a fair question. Budweiser’s alcohol-and-caffeine drink BE was a hit in the United States in the early to mid-aughts but flopped immediately when tested overseas in 2006. Caffeinated alcohol is a distinctly American flavor of stupid. We do it over and over.

A can of Joose, which is 23.5 ounces, contains approximately 380 calories. (Compared to modern Four Loko, which is 660.) While both had 12 percent alcohol by volume and were fortified with caffeine, Joose had a few differentiating features, beyond the fact it was 40 cents cheaper and covered in skulls.

Sparks actually preceded both, and MillerCoors voluntarily removed the caffeine in 2008, before Four Loko even hit its stride. In the two years between its $215 million acquisition from the McKenzie River Corporation and this quiet surrender, Sparks had a 90 percent share of the “alcopop” market, which meant that with its death, Four Loko was primed to become an easy hit.

Today, even in the midst of the “wellness” boom, young people still post exuberantly about knocking back cans of Four Loko and making bad decisions, even though the caffeine has been removed and the current drink is no more dangerous than a wine cooler. In June 2016, long after Four Loko had been rereleased sans caffeine, the strange college journalism platform Odyssey Online published a guide to matching Four Loko flavors with your personality. “Gold Loko is a VERY IMPORTANT new flavor,” the possibly underage author wrote. “The people who drink these LOVE to live on the edge. They aren’t afraid of the challenge (of the added 2 percent alcohol volume).”

But it’s not special. None of it is special. I was a straitlaced high school soccer player during the Four Loko years, but I do remember, with a warm sort of disgust, the acrid taste of college ingenuity — tequila and blue Gatorade, whiskey and strawberry-kiwi Snapple, etc. There was no reason we couldn’t have chosen slightly less revolting combinations, except for the fact that it was kind of romantic not to. In 20 years, are you going to post throwback pics of a rum and Coke? It’s not shorthand for anything, and you would probably drink one now.

In November 2010, one of Four Loko’s creators, Chris Hunter, defended the drink vehemently to Fast Company, arguing that it had the same amount of caffeine as a Starbucks coffee, less alcohol than most craft beers, and less seductive packaging than a Bud Light Lime, and that dozens of other alcoholic beverages were available in the same 24-ounce cans. Asked about a widely publicized incident at Washington State University in which nine college students ended up hospitalized, with Four Loko cited throughout the police report, Hunter got even more defensive, telling reporter Austin Carr:

The police report showed there was supposedly illegal drugs at the party. That was mentioned about 14 times in the police report. There were multiple mentions of hard liquor, but there were only a few, maybe 2 to 3, mentions of Four Loko. It’s really unfair to say our drink was the cause of this.

The same month, his company reached a voluntary agreement with the New York State Liquor Authority to stop shipping Four Loko into the state, and the FDA issued a public warning about caffeine as an “unsafe additive” to alcoholic beverages, as well as private letters to four manufacturers — including Four Loko’s Phusion Projects — that stated, “[The] FDA is not aware of any publicly available data to establish affirmatively safe conditions of use for caffeine added directly to alcoholic beverages and packaged in a combined form.”

The FDA’s letter was sent to Charge Beverages Corporation (which made drinks called Core High Gravity HG Green and Core High Gravity HG Orange), New Century Brewing Company (which made the fortified beer Moonshot), and United Brands, which made Joose.

Jonathan Howland, a community health researcher at Boston University, told Science Daily just after the ban on Four Loko, “Although several manufacturers of caffeinated beer have withdrawn their products from the market, there is no sign that young people have decreased the practice of combining alcohol and energy drinks.”

There have been other gross party beverages meant to recapture the thrill of alcoholic energy drinks without drawing the same unwanted attention. Whipped Lightning, a combination of sugar, heavy cream, grain alcohol, and artificial flavoring had a brief heyday. Forty-proof chocolate milk did not quite. The super-cheap bottled sangria brand Capriccio had a moment, which the company leaned into, saying, “Believe the hype!” MEL’s Miles Klee recently sampled every flavor of a Mark Cuban-endorsed juice-box wine cooler called BeatBox, which has hideous, brightly colored marketing materials and a low price point, but concluded that its 11.1 percent alcohol content wasn’t really enough for anything other than an “unremarkable, if quietly pleasant weekend.”

In fact, even the FDA seems to be over the whole incident. When asked whether it would involve itself in the rise of alcohol-infused cold brew — such as those offered by the California-based Cafe Agave or the forthcoming offering from Skyy Vodka, announced March 15 — a spokesperson said the agency only considers products on a case-by-case basis, when action seems called for, and would have to get back to me.

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Source: https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2019/3/15/18265724/four-loko-history-joose-sparks-red-bull-vodka-caffeine

[ladyslounge-blog-blog]

Sophistication, Success and Serial Killers

  My idol, Julia Cameron, includes this exercise in a few of her brilliant books, The Artist's Way, the Sound of Paper and perhaps some others, where she encourages her reader to visit their own perceptions of what items for them could serve as a token of success. I have taken it a step further and included things that maybe aren't physical or tangible items.   I do this exercise often and the list items change from time to time but basically my list of 25 symbols of sophistication and success might look something like this:   An organized wallet  A newspaper subscription A nice watch  A good credit score  Manicured and Pedicured at all times  Monthly hair appointments  Wine savvy  Up to date on current events  Wears a belt  Polished shoes  A non-expired driver's licence  A savings account with actual money in it  Impeccable handwriting  Well trained dog (if you have a dog. Not get a dog and train it, but if you already have a dog, it doesn't jump up or go ballistic when somebody comes to the door, and doesn't try to eat other dogs for trying to share the sidewalk with her etc...)  Clothes that aren't made up 80% of cat hair Is punctual Has a life plan / action plan /mind map taking up half the basement wall made up of chalkboard paint and post it notes but in an organized and grown-up yet whimsical and not at a all OCD/stalker/serial killer way

 Phone isn't almost always at 1% battery life Knows where key are Knows where (organized) wallet is Doesn't have oppositional defiance disorder Goes to the dentist for check-ups and cleanings when they call to remind them that it's time.  Doesn't argue with themselves about whether or not it is bedtime and then stay up way too late watching Netflix and wonder why they're so exhausted all the next day, pausing repeatedly to search "fatigue" on webMD Doesn't search anything on webMD ever Washes face before bed instead of smearing off excess eyeliner from yesterday and pretending they are responsibly prioritizing and economizing on time by counting what's left of it as today's make-up. The idea is to scan your list and just select one symbol by which you can celebrate your soigné adulthood.     Desperate to be sophisticated but too lazy to think of your own list? Prefer to follow a clearly outlined step-by-step guide? You're in luck!   According to the wikiHow staff While "Sophistication means more than just smoking a thin cigarette in a French café while discussing your latest trip to an art gallery." this online document illustrating (literally)  how-to steps will get you fast tracked to sophistication in no time at all! Okay, it's not actually just a few simple steps. there are 4 parts to the process with several steps in each so I did you the favour of giving it a quick browse and grabbing what are clearly the most important steps of each part. Ready? Part 1 - Getting the Look Keep your face looking sophisticated. Both men and women should keep their faces looking sophisticated and well-groomed. Here’s what they should do: Women should wear some makeup to show that they’ve made an effort, but not so much that they end up hiding their natural features. Just a touch of eye shadow and liner and lipstick or lip gloss will do; there’s no need to throw on fake eyelashes or layers of blush. Men should keep their faces looking fresh, but they can keep their beards or just a little bit of stubble. You don’t have to be free of facial hair to look sophisticated. A beard can even make you look more sophisticated, especially if you have some gray in your beard. Part 2 - Talking the talk Avoid discussing any subjects that make people uncomfortable. Knowing what not to say is just as important as knowing what you should not talk about. Though you shouldn’t completely censor yourself and end up sounding like another person, if you want to sound sophisticated, then you have to avoid discussing subjects that make people cringe, roll their eyes, or generally feel like leaving the room. Here are some subjects that you should avoid talking about if you want to sound sophisticated: How much money you make Bodily functions Your latest hookup How drunk you got last night Part 3 - Picking Up Sophisticated Interests Be well-read. Being well-read is a must if you want to be truly sophisticated. Having some knowledge about classic works of literature as well as contemporary works will make you a more well-rounded, interesting, and sophisticated person. Though it’s hard to make room for reading in your busy schedule, try to read at least 2-3 books a month, or more, if you can make time for it. Here are some ways to be a more well-read person: Stop watching silly TV shows and curl up with a good book instead; stop listening to pop music and listen to an audio book on the way to work. Join a book club. This will motivate you to read regularly. Read the books on the Modern Library’s 100 best novels list. Read widely. Don’t just read fiction, non-fiction, or books written about America. Read books of different genres that represent different cultures. Make a list of books you want to read by the end of the next New Year. See how many you can check off your list. If you want to sound sophisticated, make sure you know that the writer George Eliot is a woman, and that the writer Evelyn Waugh is a man. Learn to pronounce the names of French writers. For example, Proust is pronounced “Proost,” to rhyme with “roost.” Appreciate wine. Drinking wine does not mean chugging a box of Franzia in your college’s parking lot before the big football game. It means knowing how to appreciate wine from different regions, and learning how to recognize different types of wine and the different flavors that you can find in a glass of wine. Here are some things you will need to master if you want to be sophisticated: The different types of wine. Cabernet, Merlot, Pinot Noir, and Zinfandel are some common red wines you may encounter; Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling, and Pinot Grigio are some white wines you may drink. Wine tasting. To taste wine, swirl it around, smell it gently, and then take a small, thoughtful sip. Don’t down the whole glass without noticing the richness of the flavors. Pairing wine with foods. White wine tends to go better with certain fish, while red wine can bring out the flavors in a rich steak. Dessert wines. If you’re really into wine, you can enjoy a glass of sherry or port after your meal. Don’t drink this wine during your main meal. Identifying flavors. Does the wine taste oaked, not oaked, earthy, or fruit-forward? Can you detect a hint of chocolate, blackberries, or oranges? You’ll have a refined palate with practice. Chilling your wine. White wine should be cold; red wine should be kept out of the refrigerator. Don’t put ice cubes in your white wine to cool it down unless you want to look unsophisticated. Aerating your wine. Let your red wine breathe for a few minutes before you drink it. Better yet, pour it into a decanter or even pour it through an aerator into a glass. Part 4 - Acting Sophisticated Avoid getting visibly intoxicated in public. It’s sophisticated to sip a glass of Rosé or white wine on your patio and keep up witty conversation—it’s not sophisticated to be seen stumbling around a bar, falling into stools and not being able to keep your food down. If you want to be sophisticated and have embarrassing drinking habits, then it’s time to change your ways. The next time you go out, stick to having just one or two drinks, or to drinking until you feel slightly buzzed and then stopping. If you want people to think you’re sophisticated, although it goes deep down within yourself, then people will take you seriously, and nobody takes a person who can’t hold his liquor very seriously. Spend time with sophisticated people.   Sophisticated company will improve your level of sophistication. You shouldn’t drop all of your friends at a moment’s notice just because they aren’t as sophisticated as you’d like them to be; you should, however, make a goal of hanging out with more cultured, interesting, and open-minded people so that you can improve your own level of thinking. You can meet sophisticated people at book clubs, book readings, gallery openings and events, poetry readings, concerts, or at any art-inspired events. I don't know about you guys but I'm super inspired to get sophisticated now that I know how easy and straight forward it is; To the point where I have re-written my own personal list of symbols of sophistication.   Stop going out looking like a drag queen Stop talking about poop Cancel my Netflix account, quit my job and take up full time reading Develop a very strong dependancy on wine without chugging boxes of Franzia in my college’s parking lot before the big football games. Only drink alone and in private. Hang out with other unemployed alcoholics who wear modest amounts of make-up/beardage who don't talk about poop and have lots of words, all the words, the best words. *For access to the rest of the steps, so that you can become a truly sophisticated person, follow this link: https://www.wikihow.com/Be-Sophisticated   Read the full article

[steamshovelmama]

Too many jokes about warm beer...

OK, guys, This has cropped up about five times in the last week in the, “Do you Brits really drink warm beer?” sense. A few people actually seem to be serious, so here is a Public Service Announcement about British Beer.

Firstly the question, “Do you drink your beer warm?” (which for the sake of this post is defined as room temperature, or more likely, a little below because no one actually drinks warmed beer whatever the Americans think...) This is like saying, “Do you drink your wine warm?” To which the answer is: it depends. White or Rose - hell, no! Red - of course.

Only a philistine would drink chilled red wine. It would taste horrible. The complex flavours would be lost and it would just taste thin and bitter. On the other hand, white wine is distinctly unpleasant when not chilled. Different products.

Thus it is with beer. Many USians do not seem to realise that what they casually refer to as beer is actually only one style of beer. It’s descended from a European lager. Lager is brewed with a bottom fermenting yeast that is specific to that style of beer. Lager is relatively young as a drink, dating back only to the late 15th/early 16th C. The yeast is much more cold tolerant than traditional ale yeasts (of which more shortly). This strain of yeast ferments slowly in cold temperatures producing a clean and crisp but relatively uncomplex flavour which is very different to ales whereas ale yeast stops fermenting in cold conditions. The yeast is also sensitive to alcohol so lagers cannot be brewed to as high a strength as ales. Lagers were traditionally laid down in the cold atmosphere of caves (actually known as lagering, giving the style its name) and the long slow fermentation followed by a long settling period means the sedimentary particles present in the brew dropped out leaving, again, a clearer, crisper, simpler drink that is most suitable served chilled - or traditionally, at the lagering temperature which would be considerably warmer than we now, in the age of easy refrigeration, usually drink it. However, the clean, simple taste copes well with temperatures associated with modern refrigeration. Just like white wine.

Ale does not.

Ale is a style specific to the British Isles. There are similar style beers scattered throughout Germany and Belgium - and Northern Europe generally - but they are so much of their own local tradition that it is fair to say that ale is a British drink.

There are several types of ale - mild, bitter, porter, stout, barley wine etc - plus subdivisions of each of these. They all share the same process of fermentation with a traditional ale yeast which is top fermenting. This yeast (Saccharomyces cerevisia - also used in bread and wine making) ferments at a higher temperature than the lager yeasts and is stopped dead in its tracked by cold weather. This meant that in most places, ale brewing did not take place over winter. The fermentation process was faster and shorter than lager’s, producing a drink that retained a lot of substances that affected the flavour. Because of this, ale’s flavour is heavier, more complex, and bitterer than lager. This is why, in Britain, lager is often derided as a young person’s drink - what you drink before you can cope with the Real Stuff. That or a Lady’s Drink (in half pints, in a suitably goblet shaped glass...) There is a grain of truth in this because many of the commercially available lager styles in Britain are utterly awful, being (sorry guys) basically bland, US style lagers. And, overall, US style lagers are pretty bad. Guys, you lead the world in many things, but not large scale lager/beer production. That’s why so many areas of the US have a flourishing craft beer and micro-brewery culture. Proof? Get a bottle of your Budweiser and a bottle of the original Czech Budweiser (usually marketed as Budvar) and compare the two. Budvar is a gorgeous traditional mid-European lager. Clean, crisp, but with a proper mildly bitter flavour. Budweiser... well, frankly, it’s piss.

All the lagers that are worth drinking in Britain are European imports or brewed under license - Stella Artois, Becks, Peroni etc. They are also noticeably more expensive.

But ale... ah, the ale styles are cheap, numerous, individual and very, very interesting. They are “live” beers (ie not pasteurised), served from tap or handpump and you have to have a level of skill to keep and serve them succesfully. They are best served at their traditional temperature which is “cellar” temperature. That would be cool but not actually refrigerated. Chill it and it loses the flavour - mostly. In fact, stouts are usually chilled these days, and the lighter end of the scale - the golden ales - are often served lightly chilled as a summer drink. But your true bitter or mild is best drunk at slightly below room temperature. Just like red wine.

Having said that, many chain pubs in the UK (looking at you, Mr Wetherspoon...) have taken to serving all their drinks at virtually sub-zero temperatures. This renders the shit lagers drinkable (you can’t taste them) and the ales undrinkable (you can’t taste them). There is a fashion amongst younger drinkers to want to have ice cold drinks, regardless of the style. For proper UK beer, find a smaller local pub, and you’ll find out how this stuff is actually supposed to taste. Probably... Although, it’s also possible you get some nasty, ropey crap that will give you a bad stomach - remember what I said about the skill needed to keep this stuff? If it tastes vinegary, or has a faintly stringy feel (”ropey”) don’t drink it, demand your money back and go elsewhere. There aren’t many pubs with truly bad cellarmen these days but you run into the odd one now and then.

Having said that, the best cellarman in the world can have the odd barrel that’s not as it should be. It’s perfectly acceptable to return a pint that’s a bit not right. The barman should taste the drink himself and if he agrees the barrel is off, or coming to the end (beer may be a bit sedimenty) he should get it changed immediately. Well, immediately after offering you another pint, either from a different barrel of the same beer if there is one, or another beer if not. It’s also acceptable in many pubs to ask for a small sample of a beer you haven’t tried before to see if you like it. This will be free. And, yes, the beer flavours do vary to that degree.

Every area of Britain has its own local brew, often available from a pub attached to the brewery “the “brewery tap”). Popular ones can also go nationwide - Doombar Ale is probably one of the current most fashionable ones. Black Sheep Ale is another.

TYPES OF ALE

Stouts and Porters

Originally Stout was a term for a strong beer, but now it means a very dark one. The colour of an ale is dependent on how dark the barley was roasted. Obviously this also affects the flavour. The term porter was coined because the drink was popular with London porters in the 18thC. Eventually different strengths of Porter were brewed with the strongest being known as “Stout” porter - which just became stout. WIthin this group are:

“Milk Stouts” (contains lactose which cannot be fermented so it is sweeter. Was thought to be healthy and used to be given to nursing mothers)

Dry/Irish stout (basically just standard stout without the lactose/sweetness. The style became associated with Irish brewing and Guinness is the most famous example though there are several others)

Oatmeal stout (contains oats as well as barley)

Chocolate stouts (usually just a stout with chocolate notes in the flavour but a few of these do contain a small amount of chocolate)

Oyster stouts (yes, these are actually brewed with a handful of oysters in the barrel. I did say complex flavours...)

Imperial Stout (a style similar to the stout that was exported to the court of Russian Empress Catherine II. The only real difference is the strength which is usually above 9%)

There’s a Baltic Porter too which is a (usually Polish) recreation of the Imperial stout exports.

Bitters

The “standard” beer served in British pubs. Not actually that bitter - the term was coined in the 19th C to differentiate these sharper, hoppier beers from the... well, milder milds. US drinkers are probably familar with IPA (India Pale Ale) which is a style of bitter that ended up closer to lager in look/taste (though remaining more complex and less crisp) because of the effect of the export journey to India. People liked the flavour and IPA became a style of its own.

Bitters vary from pale gold to deep brown but, unlike stouts and porters, are not opaque. They are descended from the everyday drink of the British and should not be noticeably alcoholic as you drink, though they can creep up on you if you’re not careful... in pubs you can generally find ABVs between 3.5%, suitable for drinking all afternoon, and evening, and about 6%, suitable for 3 or 4 pints over a night out, preferably with food!. Pubs don’t usually serve stronger bitters as a matter of course, though near Christmas you may well find an Old Ale or a Barley Wine, which are much stronger. The Golden Ales which are popular lightly chilled on a summer afternoon fall in the bitter category.

There are traditional names for the various strengths. Session beers are below 4.1% ABV, Best or Special Bitter is between 4.2 and 4.7, Premium or Strong Bitter, is 4.8 and above.

Milds

Originally meant “young” beer with less of the hoppy tang of aged beer. They tend to be deep brown and have an ABV of 3 - 3.5%. However, just to be confusing, there are paler “light milds” and the occasional one as strong as 6% ABV. Sometimes you’ll see them called “dark milds” or “ruby milds”. This just refers to the colour of the liquor and has no other significance. The darker ones are sometimes called “Brown Ales” though this term is a bit old fashioned now.

Incidentally milds are where the Xs in beer names come from. Originally the number of Xs denoted strength so a name like “Castlemaine XXXX” (another dreadful gnats piss lager, but Aussie this time) would indicate the strongest brew.

Old Ale

A strong, dark, malty beer, over 5% ABV. Some are called “Winter Warmers”.

Barley Wine

Strong to insanely strong beer, between 6% and 16% ABV. There’s little meaningful difference betwen the Old Ales and Barley Wines, except you’re marginally more likely still to be able to walk after an Old Ale... Like the Old Ales, it is most often found in pubs around Christmas. If bottled they can be extensively aged. Expect it to be served in half pint glasses.

[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic

Summary: The problem with sneaking into dark corners is that you can never know what, or who, you might find there…

Tag-type thingies: rating: Teenage audiences and up; relationships: Turgon/Elenwë, Maedhros/Fingon; some keywords: romance, family, (not actually very) secret relationship, mention of sex, some humour, years of the trees

A/N: This one-shot that I wrote when I should have been working on a chapter of my ongoing longer fic marks the first time I've written any Maedhros/Fingon – it is something I am frankly terrified of doing because I have read so many fantastic fics about them. Best start small, I thought, so here is a silly, tropey little thing where they make an appearance. I freely admit to having been influenced by the many wonderful Maedhros/Fingon writers whose stories I have read.

Warning: There is a scene where a possibility of discrimination based on sexual orientation is implied, a possibility which is not realised in this story.

Scriptorium=a room where texts are copied. Turukáno/Turno=Turgon, Findekáno/Finno=Fingon, Nelyafinwë/Maitimo=Maedhros.

*

Cornered

'Please, my darling, I have missed you so, and we have spent barely any time alone together after I returned from my visit to Taniquetil. Let us just have a little while to ourselves in some quiet place. No one will even notice that we are gone.'

Turukáno glances around, his gaze pausing on his father and grandfather in the centre of the celebrating crowd before settling back on his golden-haired betrothed. He seems conflicted and a little uncomfortable, but his eyes are soft when he looks down at Elenwë.

'It is late, and most people at this party are drunk.' She continues her coaxing in a low, sweet voice that carries the merest hint of laughter. 'You and I have both done our duties – spoken with all the important people, danced with many enough partners to appear courteous and social – and your grandmother has already told me that she has no more need of me tonight. No one will miss us.'

'The palace is full of guests. Where are you suggesting we should go?' asks Turukáno with an air of still considering it, but Elenwë knows she has already won.

She smiles at him radiantly and tells him that she recently noticed a little nook behind a large statue on the second floor that should be a marvellous place for a private moment...

And it is indeed an excellent spot for some discreet kissing, Turukáno and Elenwë discover; unfortunately, they find this out by quite literally bumping into another couple who happen to agree on the suitability of this location.

It is Turukáno who discovers the two other lovers as he backs into the shadowy corner while pulling Elenwë to him to kiss her passionately, having finally given free rein to the ardour he has kept hidden behind a proper facade all night.

The other couple are equally engrossed in each other, so neither party realises the other's presence until Turukáno backs into someone else's back; both of them let out a cry of surprise, and then, recognising one another's voices, speak at the same time.

'Turno?'

'Findekáno?'

'Oh, no', says a third male voice, rather desperately.

Elenwë thinks she recognises it. 'Nelyafinwë? What are you doing here?'

There is no answer, only scrambling noises.

Confused, Elenwë cranes around Turukáno's tall form to see her future brother-in-law and his cousin and best friend, prince Fëanáro's eldest son. They are standing as far apart as is possible in the narrow space. Findekáno looks like he's struggling not to laugh, while Nelyafinwë looks like he wishes he were anywhere else.

And it might be the dim light playing tricks on her, but she rather thinks that they both appear flushed, their clothes look crumpled and... overall they have that look on them that Elenwë has seen on Turukáno, and in her own mirror, many times since they became engaged and were allowed some private moments. A well-kissed look, that's what she calls it.

On both Findekáno and Maitimo, hiding together behind a statue in a spot made for kissing.

She knows, of course, that Findekáno and Maitimo are very close, the best of friends despite their fathers' disagreements. She has also heard some of the other ladies-in-waiting whisper and giggle about them, implying that there was something else, perhaps an unconfirmed but entertaining rumour, about those two princes that Elenwë doesn't know. They have refused to explain it to her even though she's asked them to, and it has been one of the things that sometimes makes her, a Vanya among the Noldor, feel like an outsider.

Well, she has the explanation now.

All of this flickers through her mind within the space of a few seconds, and once she has come to the inevitable conclusion she finds herself the most collected of the four of them. The three men are just staring each other, Findekáno still stifling a laugh while Turukáno has turned almost as red as Maitimo. Elenwë observes that Turukáno does not appear particularly surprised, though, not like she is.

Elenwë clears her throat and says, very politely, to Findekáno and Maitimo, 'We are very sorry for disturbing your private moment. We did not know there was anyone here.'

It is her betrothed who first replies to her. 'El –'

Turukáno doesn't seem to know what more to say, and he sounds rather pained, so Elenwë takes his hand before turning to Findekáno and Maitimo with a soft smile. 'I dare say that I have stumbled upon a family secret. Don't worry; I will keep it as I intend to keep all secrets of Finwë's house that I learn. Now, I believe it is time for Turukáno and me to leave and go find a quiet spot of our own. Please do accept our apologies for disturbing you.'

She tugs at Turukáno's hand but he is still frozen in place, now studying her with a worried expression. She can see a fierce defensiveness in his eyes as well. 'Are you not shocked?' he asks in a low voice.

'A little.' Elenwë notices Findekáno reach out to Maitimo and place a hand in his; she watches the anxiety in Maitimo's eyes abate as he twines his fingers around Findekáno's, and he no longer looks like he would rather be elsewhere.

Elenwë continues, 'I will get over my surprise; it is no matter. I will not object to anyone else's happiness or affection, not when I have so recently found my own and realised how precious it is.'

'I told you not to worry, brother', says Findekáno approvingly. 'I knew she would understand. In spite of all your starchiness you would not choose a woman without generosity of heart.'

'Thank you, Findekáno.' Elenwë nods at him and he nods back, a half-unravelled gold ribbon in his hair glinting as a shard of light from a distant wall sconce hits it. She continues, 'Do accept our apologies. Turukáno, darling, let us go now; I believe we would all like some privacy.'

Now Maitimo speaks for the first time. 'Of course we accept your apologies, but you do not need to leave on our account. Findekáno and I can go –'

'No, you were here first, we will leave', says Turukáno in the only slightly stiff voice he uses with family, and Elenwë stifles a giggle at how he retains his sense of honour even at a moment like this.

'Good night, Turno, I will see you in the morning. Elenwë, I believe you are dining with our family tomorrow evening?' Findekáno appears little affected by this encounter.

'Yes, I will see you then. Good night, Findekáno, Maitimo.'

Elenwë pulls her still-embarrassed betrothed along as she steps around the statue, leaving the two other men alone in the shadows. They can hear her telling Turukáno, 'Do not look so crushed, dear, it wasn't so bad.'

'I was kissing you when I backed into my brother! Yes it was bad, it was very bad...'

Findekáno smiles fondly as the two voices, one soothing and the other grumbling, grow fainter. Maitimo groans and leans against the wall. Findekáno stands on tiptoe to press a placating kiss on his forehead, and he glares at Findekáno, half balefully and half desirously.

'I would never have agreed to kiss you in a place this public if you hadn't plied me with wine all evening', he complains. 'See what comes of indiscretion?'

Findekáno waves his beloved's complaint aside. 'My brother is marrying Elenwë in a little over a year's time. She is going to be family, and she was going to find out eventually, one way or another. So think of it like this: now it is over with, and we don't need to worry about it. About her.'

'I just wish that she found out in a little more… dignified manner.' Maitimo shifts uncomfortably while Findekáno just grins.

'Think of how much more undignified it could have been – at least we were wearing all of our clothes.'

'Just barely.' Maitimo meticulously smooths out his overrobe that Findekáno had scrunched up to his waist before they were surprised. Findekáno eyes his movements with disapproval.

'Don't take too much care with that. Because next we are going to get out of here and find somewhere where we can get thoroughly undignified, aren't we?' Findekáno is still grinning, and as so often, Maitimo is struck by a desire to kiss that wide grin.

But he is still embarrassed. 'I'm not sure about that, Finno, your brother and his bride went elsewhere to leave this spot to us. Wouldn't it be wrong for us to leave too?'

'Why am I surrounded by idiots with an overdeveloped sense of honour?' Findekáno rolls his eyes. 'Let me put it this way, Maitimo, my dearest idiot: would you rather stay here and dare to barely even kiss me for fear of discovery, or find an empty room with a door that locks and let me do all kinds of undignified things to you, and with you, and –'

'Shh! Someone could hear.' Maitimo, blushing so riotously that Findekáno can see it even though he is now blocking all the light, puts his hand on Findekáno's mouth.

Findekáno licks it.

Maitimo groans. 'I think the scriptorium is closest.'

[thegrimllama]

poison and wine

@shesamarshmallow and I were throwing out angsty supercorp headcanons and thus, poison and wine was born....

When Lena first found out about Kara and Mike of the Interns, she was confused to say the least.  She was thankful for the confusion she felt when Kara had gushed about their date while they were at lunch, it was just enough to override the icy feeling engulfing her heart.  

She watched the glee in Kara’s eyes as she spoke of Mike, the awkward acknowledgement that maybe Mike was the guy she’d been looking for all along, even after all their late night complaints and giggles about his lack of social skills and etiquette. So she did what any best friend would do in this situation.  She ordered two more coffees, and rang her assistant, Jess, to tell her that she’d be extending her lunch break by at least another hour.  She sat.  She smiled.  She listened to Kara.  Really listened.  She spoke of missing home, missing her family, missing everything familiar that left behind when the Danvers adopted her.  

 Lena’s heart broke a little more, not for herself, not for the ghost of a relationship that might have been, but for Kara.  Kara, who’d lost more than Lena could ever dream of losing.

She gripped Kara’s hand under the table, squeezing it when her friend choked up, giving Kara the strength to help Lena understand why she was suddenly dating someone she’d previously shown no interest in.  

 Lena listened as Kara explained Mike’s ties to her hometown, to her people…  “He’s seen the same stars, from almost the same place.  He’s seen the things my family saw, Lena… He knows what it’s like to have your whole world ripped from your hands and torn apart in front of your eyes.  He knows, Lena… And… I didn’t know I needed that until now.”

Lena smiled, politely joining in, asking questions, trying to wrap her head around what she was hearing.  To be honest, she didn’t even feel guilty when she sent Jess an SOS text, to cut the lunch short.

 Kara looked slightly disappointed, telling Lena that she’d call her that night before bed to discuss the plans for their games night the next day.

Lena smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to Kara’s warm cheek like she did every other day, and left the cafe, burying her sorrow in an angry phone call with an investor who had spurned her one too many times.  She was not going to cry over a what if.  At least, not in public.  

 She reached her building, storming through L-Corp like a tornado, leaving a wake of whispers and stares as she slammed the elevator button, not one employee daring to share with her while she was radiating this type of energy.

 When the elevator reached the top floor, Jess was waiting by her desk with a fresh cup of coffee and the door to Lena’s office jarred open with her now scuffed Louboutin.   Lena took the coffee and let Jess into the office.  

 “You want to talk about the reason Stella just called up to warn me that Hurricane Lena is on a warpath?”

She sighed and fell heavily onto the couch, patting the seat next to her, “Kara’s dating Mike.”

 “Like… Of the Interns, Mike?”

Jess hissed slightly at Lena’s confirmation, “Apparently they have more in common than Kara first thought and now…”

 “And now?”

Lena put the coffee cup down, “The worst part is… I can’t even fault her for it?  Everything she said… It made absolute sense.  She misses home, her family, her country… And there’s Mike, another refugee, from a city down the road from Kara’s.  He understands…”

 Jess leaned forward, placing her coffee cup on the table, “May I overstep, Ms Luthor?”

Lena’s mouth dropped and she nodded, she needed more than a listening ear right now.  She needed to cry.  So she did.  And now she was going to need to replace Jess’s tear stained shirt.  

 ***

 It was almost nine when Lena looked at the clock, she’d thrown herself into her work, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that had been eating away at her since lunch.  She’d let Jess off early, telling her that neither of them were needed in the office until Tuesday, and that she should take the long weekend to spend with her boyfriend in Metropolis.  Jess, of course, had argued, unsuccessfully, once Lena had booked a first-class flight and sent Jess her boarding pass via internal email.  She noted the three missed calls on her mobile, confirming that all three were from Kara, before sighing.  She’d have to call back.  Before she got the chance, however, a muffled thump sounded from behind her, and a breeze disturbed her papers as her balcony door crept open.

 “You know, most people knock,” she said, spinning her chair until she faced Supergirl, who was leaning against the doorframe.

 “Most people aren’t in the office at nine o’clock at night and screening calls.”

Lena rolled her eyes, “You spoke to Kara?”

Supergirl nodded, “She was worried when she couldn’t reach you.  Asked me to do a fly by.  The usual.”

 “Well, I had just picked up my phone to return her calls when you barged in.”

 “Is it barging in if you leave the door unlocked?” Supergirl asked, a cheeky smirk appearing on her face.  

 “Touché, Super.”  Lena stood up, pushing the chair into the desk and walking out onto the balcony.  Lena leaned over, watching the cars below as the hero rested against the railing beside her.  Lena took a breath, Supergirl and Kara were friends.  Lena and Supergirl… They had a mutual understanding that seemed as though it was definitely heading in that direction.  Lena sighed and looked up, “Have you met him?”

 “Met who?” Supergirl looked slightly confused for a moment.

 “Kara’s boyfriend?”  Lena clamped her mouth shut, the bitterness in her voice completely readable.  She hoped Supergirl missed it.

 “Oh… Mike?”  She missed it.

Lena nodded, glancing upward.  She wasn’t going to show her hand.  She just wanted intel.  “Is he… I just want to know that Kara is one hundred percent sure that this is what she wants.”

She heard Supergirl chuckle, “You’re always looking out for her, aren’t you?  I know Kara appreciates it.  And last I spoke to her, she was very happy with her decision.”

Lena bit back the sob that was sitting on her chest, almost suffocating her, “Good.  I’d better call and make sure she knows that I’m leaving before she sends Alex and the FBI.”

Supergirl nodded, “Have a nice night, Luthor.”  She winked at Lena and pushed off the balcony with a grin.

 “You too, Super,” Lena knew that her whispered reply was heard.

 ****

 The call to Kara had been quick.  A short scolding about staying at work, of course Supergirl had ratted her out, she’d have to have words with the alien about that.  Lena had talked Kara out of the mood that she’d been in, apologising for the missed calls and the search party. (“Supergirl doesn’t count as a search party, Kara.”)

Kara huffed, but agreed, reminding Lena that Games Night started at seven sharp.  

 Which is why Lena now found herself knocking back two fingers of whiskey at half past six on a Saturday.  She’d spent much of the night before drinking straight from the bottle after Kara’s call, passing out at some ungodly hour, only to wake up completely hungover to the sound of Kara’s reminder text.  The rest of the day was spent in a trance, watching trashy daytime television (she could really see how people got addicted to these shows), and eating her way through an entire twelve pack of iced donuts that Alex had sent over, for some unknown reason.  When the box arrived at her door around lunchtime, Lena had sent a text off to Agent Danvers, thanking her, but querying the timing of it.

 The reply was almost instant, Maggie says that donuts are good for the soul and you need them right now.  See you tonight, scotch is on me x

 ***

 Game Night was awful.  Lena had drunk her way through quite a bit of the bottle that Alex had handed her, she was paired with Winn, thanks to Kara and Mike’s announcement.  This wouldn’t have been an issue for Lena.  She was clever.  So was Winn.  They should have had this game in the bag, but there was something bothering Winn.  

She could tell by the way he kept glancing toward the other side of the table.  Toward Kara and Mike.  Great.  This was exactly what Lena needed.  Not only was she being forced to put her own happiness aside, for the sake of her best friend’s, but she now had to watch Winn mooning over Kara as well.  That needed to stop.  She waited until the end of the game.  The only opportunity she’d have was when Maggie and Alex went to order pizza, and Mike and Kara were too busy trying to fuse their lips together to notice their disappearance.  She grabbed Winn’s ear, slapping a hand across his cheek to shush the whining noises.  

 “Bathroom.  Now.”

Winn followed, everything about his body language screaming discomfort.  Lena smirked.  Good.

She shut the door, locking it carefully behind her and pushing Winn down onto the toilet.  

 “What the fuck are you doing?”

Winn looked around, his eyes still slightly glassy from the tequila that he and Maggie had shot earlier.  “What?”

 “You need to stop, Winn.”  She took a breath and tilted her chin, she needed to keep herself in control.  “Kara is happy with Mike.  So you need to get over that little crush of yours and keep it to yourself because I will not stand by and watch you come between Kara and her chance at happiness.”

She looked back, noticing that Winn’s confusion had abated, “You think I’m in love with Kara?”

 “You’re not?”

Winn chuckled, “Oh, Lena… I never stood a chance with Kara, not with you in the picture…”

Lena opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off by Winn, “I’m in love with Mike.  I have been for a while, I just...  I thought…”

Lena sighed.  The universe was a bitch.  She saw the way Winn’s shoulders dropped, and suddenly, his actions throughout the night made a lot more sense.  “You’re… Mike?”  The admission made Lena’s head spin… Of all the things…

She must have looked as faint as she felt, because Winn took her by the shoulders and switched their positions, “Lena?”

Deep breaths… In… Out…

Lena held up her hand, silently asking Winn to give her a minute.  He nodded and stood back while Lena mulled over their current situations.  

Unfortunately for Lena, the silence was broken by a knock at the door and the rattle of the door handle… Winn looked from the door back to Lena, worry painted clearly across his face.

 “Lena?”

Of course, who else would come looking for her?  “Kara… Um…  I’ll be out in a minute…”

 “Have… Look, um… Alex and Maggie are back and we can’t find Winn…”

Winn smacked his forehead, the noise echoing through the bathroom, enough for even Kara to hear, “Uh Lena…?”

She glared at Winn and stamped her bare foot on the tiles before grabbing his face in her hands, and kissing him firmly enough to smudge her lipstick.  There was only one way of getting out of the bathroom without telling Kara about their discussion.  She gave Winn a stern glare, play along if you know what’s good for you, and opened the door.

Lena was a brilliant actress and she was an even better liar, because when Kara raise a curious eyebrow, Lena bit her lip and let out a coy giggle.  She could see the various thoughts flitting across Kara’s features until she just looked stunned, “Oh.”

 “I’m sorry, we…. Uh… got a bit carried away.”

 “Oh… Um… No problem,” Kara replied, her eyes finally landing on Winn, who was furiously trying to wipe Lena’s lipstick from his mouth.  “We… Uh, we were gonna start the next game.”

Lena wasn’t sure if she was projecting, or if Kara was really radiating some kind of discomfort.  She spun Kara around.  “We’re coming, just let me fix my lipstick.”  

Winn waited before Kara was back in the sitting room before dropping his voice, “What the hell was that? I thought you were gay!”

 “Did you want to explain to her that you’re in love with her boyfriend?  Because I’d like my feelings for her to stay exactly what they are… Secret.”

 ***

Can I come over tonight?  

 Lena sighed and dropped her head back onto the arm of the couch.  She hadn’t spoken to Winn since the embarrassing final game, the previous night.  She barely remembered who won, spending majority of her time dodging querying glances from Alex and trying not to be sick every time Kara brought up the idea of a double date.  

She had left along with Maggie and Alex, refusing to meet either woman’s eyes as she waved them off.  The silence had been telling.  Alex knew Lena was hurting.  It was obvious from the pity etched into her forehead, and from the warm hugs that she and Maggie had both wrapped her in.  Lena didn’t want their pity.

As painful as it was right now, Kara had made her decision, and that was all that mattered.

 Lena shook thoughts from the night before out of her head.  She quickly sent an affirmative text along with the request that Winn bring ice cream.

 Twenty minutes and a toasted sandwich later, Lena let Winn into the apartment.  True to his word, Winn came with two pints of ice cream.  He followed her to the couch and handed one of the containers over, “This sucks.”

Lena sighed and passed a spoon to her friend, switching the channel until she found The Great British Bake Off.  “Yeah, but they’re both adults.  And clearly there is something there, because even Supergirl can see it.”  She heard Winn choke beside her and raised an eyebrow, “You okay?”

 “You speak to Supergirl?”

Lena furrowed her brow, questioning Winn’s reaction.  There was a high possibility that if Kara Danvers knew Supergirl’s alias, so did Winn Schott.  She chose her words carefully, knowing that there was a chance that they could get back to the girl of steel, “We’re friends…  I think.  She checks up on me occasionally.”

 “Oh,” Winn gave Lena a tight smile, “Just know…  Kara and Supes… they’re tight…  Besties…”

Lena felt her face drop a little, Kara had never mentioned that before.  It brought up a lot of questions regarding Lena and Kara’s relationship.  Was she just seeing things through rose coloured glasses, or was Kara really as attached as Lena perceived her to be?

 “Should… Should I not talk about that with her?”

 “Who, Supergirl?”

Lena rolled her eyes back towards the television.  For someone so smart, Winn lacked conversational skills, “Yes Winn.  If I were to let slip about us not actually being together to Supergirl, would it get back to Kara?”  “Most definitely.”

 “Okay.  We’ll just need to be a little more careful about it.”

Winn snorted, “We wouldn’t have this issue if you’d kept your mouth to yourself, Luthor.”

She laughed, nudging him with her elbow, “Yeah, well we didn’t have much of a choice.  You could’ve said no to the double date idea.”  She watched Winn.  His face dropped a little.  The thought of watching Kara and Mike together was less than appealing to her as well.

 “I didn’t really think about that.”

 “Clearly.  Now be quiet, I want to see this.”

 ***

 By midnight, Winn and Lena had hit the melancholy stage.  Their discussion had turned towards their feelings, and Lena, not wanting to continue the discussion where anyone could see her face, took Winn’s hand.  He frowned at her, confusion showing in the dimmed light of the television.  “It’s late, come to bed and we’ll talk.  I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

 “Yeah, okay… I’ll cuddle with you, Luthor.”

She flicked him with her spare hand and flicked the light off.  “Keep your filthy hands to yourself, tech monkey.”

 This was a new side to Lena.  She wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but she was going to attribute it to Winn’s open and affectionate attitude.  Kara, Jess and, on occasion Supergirl, were her only confidants.  Adding another to the mix would only be good for Lena in the long run.  She noted that Winn was very much like Kara in a way.  They were both very open, honest people.  She found herself chuckling at the groan Winn let out when he dropped onto her mattress.  

 “How do you ever get out of bed?”

 “I have a company to run, Winn.  I don’t have time to laze in bed all day.  Now get off my side.”

He rolled over to the other side of the bed, “You know, you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be… No offense.”

Lena flicked the lamps of, using the city lights to navigate her way to the bed, “None taken, I guess?”

 “Seriously Lena.  I want to apologise.  When Kara told me that you guys were hanging out… I was really worried.  Her connections with Supergirl… Your last name…  I was worried.”

She let out a dry chuckle, and squeezed his hand, silently thanking him for the honesty, “I can understand that.  At first, I was worried about Kara’s motives too… She’s a reporter.  I’m a Luthor, a business woman, I have a lot to lose… I wasn’t sure that someone could be that… that perfect.”

She heard Winn laugh lightly, “Yeah, Kara is pretty special… I crushed on her pretty hard when we first met…”

 “I’m pretty sure everyone has at some stage…  She’s magnetic.”

 “And hot…”  Lena snorted, “Anyway… I’m telling a story… Shush…”

 “Sorry.”  She felt Winn roll onto his back and glanced over at his profile.

 “So I actually got over that when she confronted me about it… I stupidly started rambling about how relieved I was that she was gay…”

Lena laughed, she knew how defensive Kara got about her sexuality.  “How’d that go down…?”

Winn cleared his throat and attempted to mimic Kara’s voice, “Winn!  I’m not gay!”

They dissolved into giggles, both at Winn’s voice, and Kara’s reaction.  “She was so offended when I assumed she was straight,” Lena said, gasping the words out between laughs.

Winn finally controlled his laughter enough to reply, “Oh my God, she was!

Lena propped herself up on her elbow, squinting at Winn’s face, “She told you?”

 “Yeah, that night,” he laughed.  “It was game night and she was so pouty and just says out of nowhere, “Lena called me straight.”.”  Lena dropped back onto her pillow and groaned as Winn continued, “Maggie was so confused, she was like… You mean… Little Danvers isn’t straight? And Kara, sweet baby Kara snaps back with, Bye bye bye is my favourite song for a reason, Maggie, and it’s not for JTs vocals…”

 “Oh my God, what a dork.”

 Winn silenced for a moment, he was clearly deep in thought.  Lena squeezed his hand, “Tell me about Mike?  I’ve only ever heard Kara complain about him before they got together…”

Winn sighed, “Yeah, they didn’t get along well at first.  They clashed.  Mike… He’s very… Very stuck in his ways.  So one night, I took him out, and we… kinda bonded?  He got me completely trashed on some foreign alcohol, and then bailed me out at work the next day.  So I offered to help him out… To learn a little about how we behave around other people, how to speak properly, without using a formal dialect.  He was open to the idea, so we started hanging out.”  Lena watched Winn, his face turned to the windows, and knew he was hurting.  He didn’t deserve this.  Not if it was anything like the pain Lena was feeling.  “At first, it was one or two nights a week.  Just hanging out, watching movies… then it gradually turned into three, four… six nights a week, cuddling on the couch, talking about our day and watching trashy tv.”

Lena reached over, she knew what Winn needed right now was contact.  So she nudged his arm up, tucking her face into his neck, curling an arm around his waist.  It had been a long time since Lena had cuddled with a man, but she knew he needed it.  And to be honest, she did too.  It had been nearly a week since she and Kara had a girl’s night, and she was craving the proximity to another human.  Winn wasn’t as hard as Kara.  Kara was all solid and lean muscle, whereas Winn was slightly more soft, not that she’d ever say that out loud.  She still had no idea when Kara found time to go to the gym for long enough to keep her body in such pristine condition considering the amount of food she went through on a daily basis.

 She felt Winn’s arm tighten around her shoulders, a sniffle breaking the silence of the room, “I’m glad we’ve got each other, Lena.”

 “Me too, Winn.  Me too.”

[apsbicepstraining]

No, The Government Did Not Just Tell Women To Stop Boozing

More than 3. 3 million dames is under threatfor alcohol-exposed maternities, which can result in birth defects, developmental disabilities, miscarriage and fetal alcohol syndrome, according to a U.S. Centres for Disease Control and Prevention report publicized Tuesday.

What’s more, three out of four women who reported was intended to was pregnant “as soon as possible” persisted sucking alcohol.

News agencies and social media, however, concentrate on a secondary part of the report, which reminded women who aren’t trying to get pregnant that alcohol exposure could injure unborn babies if they inadvertently did get pregnant. News organizations understood the report as a mandate that all women of childbearing age who aren’t on birth control shouldn’t drinking. At all. Ever.

“CDC to Females: Protect Your Womb From the Devil Drink, ” gibed The Atlantic. Slate thought: “CDC Says Women Shouldn’t Drink Unless They’re On Family planning. Is It Drunk ?!?“

Jezebel, Elle and USA Today all expressed( righteous) resentment at the relevant recommendations that a government agency should suggest an entire population of adult dames stop boozing because of theoretical fetuses.

Just one difficulty: That’s not quite what the CDC said

“We obviously didn’t make any recommendations for women who are pre-pregnant, ” said Lela McKnight-Eily, an epidemiologist and clinical psychologist on the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Prevention Team at the CDC.

“It’s more a matter of women knowing and being informedthat if they are drinking booze, sexually active and not exploiting birth control, that they could be disclosing a baby to a teratogen, and who are able to generate fetal booze spectrum agitations, ” McKnight-Eily said.

The informing was truly targeted at the three out of four women who reported was intended to was pregnant “immediately, ” but who said they continued boozing as they tried to conceive.

It was intended to inform dames about the risks of booze and pregnancy( both anticipated and unexpected) — not to control the behavior of women who aren’t trying to have a newborn.

“Women should have conversations with their health professionals about boozing booze and their own health, in general, “McKnight-Eily contributed. “Particularly if they are planning to was pregnant or trying to was pregnant, this should be part of the conversation that they’re having.”

McKnight-Eily declined to comment on the Internet backlash loosed by the report.

What the report actually said

The report rightly have also pointed out that half of maternities in the United States are unplanned, and obtained no difference in alcohol intake between women who were trying to was pregnant and women who weren’t.

While the report did note that sexually active women of reproductive age who drink booze and don’t help family planning is under threat for alcohol-exposed maternities, the thrust of the warn was led at the group actively trying to imagine.

“Every woman who is pregnant or trying to get pregnant — and her partner — crave a healthy newborn, ” Coleen Boyle, head of CDC’s National Center on Birth Defects and Developmental Disabilities, said in a statement. “But they may not be kept in mind that drinking any booze at any stagecoach of maternity can cause a range of disabilities for their child.”

Who’s at risk

According to the report, which canvassed more than 4,000 non-pregnant , non-sterile females between ages 15 and 44, the highest risk for alcohol-exposed maternity was in women between the ages of 25 and 29, who were married, cohabitating and had given birth to one child previously. Women who smoked were at a slightly higher peril of having an alcohol-exposed child than nonsmokers.

There too was a link between a mother’s education and alcohol-exposure maternity. That receiving tracks with previous CDC research showing that alcohol use duringpregnancy is twice as commonamong women with college grades than among women with high school diplomas or less.

Experts say the guideline isn’t realistic

“People can take six months to get pregnant. They can take a year to get pregnant, ” Amy Bryant, an associate professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the University of North Carolina, told The Huffington Post. “Personally, I think it’s a jolly unrealistic mandate.”

Despite the paternalistic undertones many met in the CDC’s message, Bryant noted that the agency is simply trying to give clear advice to girls about their reproductive health.

“They interpret the incidents of fetal alcohol disorder, ” she said.

Advising maidens about booze during pregnancy is especially fraught, since drinking during pregnancy hasn’t been studied often, mainly for ethical intellects. As a result, the CDC takes a hard-line stance: No sum of alcohol is safe during pregnancy.

“It’s genuinely uncertain what the effect of alcohol is on miscarriage and on idea, ” Bryant said. “It’s probable that that one glass of wine-coloured is not going to do anything, but “youre telling” girls that it’s safe to drink in pregnancy and then you end up with all this fetal booze syndrome — and it is entirely preventable.”

While the CDC team could have framed policy recommendations better, the new report are in accordance with the agency’s long-held stance on alcohol during pregnancy.

“There isn’t a new recommendation. It’s been recommended for decades that dames not suck during pregnancy, ” McKnight-Eily said.

“We think that there are a lot of mixed themes out there, and we want to give wives a clear message that there is no safe period, “were not receiving” safe quantity or type of alcohol to drink during pregnancy.”

In trying to cut through this misinformation and streamline mixed themes for women, the CDC’s public health message went flustered, contributing many the impression it was more punishing than clarifying.

“They certainly do want people to be aware, even in early pregnancy, booze can affect a fetus, ” Bryant said. “But I think it’s a little excess to say that most women who’s not on contraception shouldn’t drink.”

The post No, The Government Did Not Just Tell Women To Stop Boozing appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2zyLPwq via IFTTT

[apsbicepstraining]

No, The Government Did Not Just Tell Women To Stop Boozing

More than 3. 3 million dames is under threatfor alcohol-exposed maternities, which can result in birth defects, developmental disabilities, miscarriage and fetal alcohol syndrome, according to a U.S. Centres for Disease Control and Prevention report publicized Tuesday.

What’s more, three out of four women who reported was intended to was pregnant “as soon as possible” persisted sucking alcohol.

News agencies and social media, however, concentrate on a secondary part of the report, which reminded women who aren’t trying to get pregnant that alcohol exposure could injure unborn babies if they inadvertently did get pregnant. News organizations understood the report as a mandate that all women of childbearing age who aren’t on birth control shouldn’t drinking. At all. Ever.

“CDC to Females: Protect Your Womb From the Devil Drink, ” gibed The Atlantic. Slate thought: “CDC Says Women Shouldn’t Drink Unless They’re On Family planning. Is It Drunk ?!?“

Jezebel, Elle and USA Today all expressed( righteous) resentment at the relevant recommendations that a government agency should suggest an entire population of adult dames stop boozing because of theoretical fetuses.

Just one difficulty: That’s not quite what the CDC said

“We obviously didn’t make any recommendations for women who are pre-pregnant, ” said Lela McKnight-Eily, an epidemiologist and clinical psychologist on the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Prevention Team at the CDC.

“It’s more a matter of women knowing and being informedthat if they are drinking booze, sexually active and not exploiting birth control, that they could be disclosing a baby to a teratogen, and who are able to generate fetal booze spectrum agitations, ” McKnight-Eily said.

The informing was truly targeted at the three out of four women who reported was intended to was pregnant “immediately, ” but who said they continued boozing as they tried to conceive.

It was intended to inform dames about the risks of booze and pregnancy( both anticipated and unexpected) — not to control the behavior of women who aren’t trying to have a newborn.

“Women should have conversations with their health professionals about boozing booze and their own health, in general, “McKnight-Eily contributed. “Particularly if they are planning to was pregnant or trying to was pregnant, this should be part of the conversation that they’re having.”

McKnight-Eily declined to comment on the Internet backlash loosed by the report.

What the report actually said

The report rightly have also pointed out that half of maternities in the United States are unplanned, and obtained no difference in alcohol intake between women who were trying to was pregnant and women who weren’t.

While the report did note that sexually active women of reproductive age who drink booze and don’t help family planning is under threat for alcohol-exposed maternities, the thrust of the warn was led at the group actively trying to imagine.

“Every woman who is pregnant or trying to get pregnant — and her partner — crave a healthy newborn, ” Coleen Boyle, head of CDC’s National Center on Birth Defects and Developmental Disabilities, said in a statement. “But they may not be kept in mind that drinking any booze at any stagecoach of maternity can cause a range of disabilities for their child.”

Who’s at risk

According to the report, which canvassed more than 4,000 non-pregnant , non-sterile females between ages 15 and 44, the highest risk for alcohol-exposed maternity was in women between the ages of 25 and 29, who were married, cohabitating and had given birth to one child previously. Women who smoked were at a slightly higher peril of having an alcohol-exposed child than nonsmokers.

There too was a link between a mother’s education and alcohol-exposure maternity. That receiving tracks with previous CDC research showing that alcohol use duringpregnancy is twice as commonamong women with college grades than among women with high school diplomas or less.

Experts say the guideline isn’t realistic

“People can take six months to get pregnant. They can take a year to get pregnant, ” Amy Bryant, an associate professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the University of North Carolina, told The Huffington Post. “Personally, I think it’s a jolly unrealistic mandate.”

Despite the paternalistic undertones many met in the CDC’s message, Bryant noted that the agency is simply trying to give clear advice to girls about their reproductive health.

“They interpret the incidents of fetal alcohol disorder, ” she said.

Advising maidens about booze during pregnancy is especially fraught, since drinking during pregnancy hasn’t been studied often, mainly for ethical intellects. As a result, the CDC takes a hard-line stance: No sum of alcohol is safe during pregnancy.

“It’s genuinely uncertain what the effect of alcohol is on miscarriage and on idea, ” Bryant said. “It’s probable that that one glass of wine-coloured is not going to do anything, but “youre telling” girls that it’s safe to drink in pregnancy and then you end up with all this fetal booze syndrome — and it is entirely preventable.”

While the CDC team could have framed policy recommendations better, the new report are in accordance with the agency’s long-held stance on alcohol during pregnancy.

“There isn’t a new recommendation. It’s been recommended for decades that dames not suck during pregnancy, ” McKnight-Eily said.

“We think that there are a lot of mixed themes out there, and we want to give wives a clear message that there is no safe period, “were not receiving” safe quantity or type of alcohol to drink during pregnancy.”

In trying to cut through this misinformation and streamline mixed themes for women, the CDC’s public health message went flustered, contributing many the impression it was more punishing than clarifying.

“They certainly do want people to be aware, even in early pregnancy, booze can affect a fetus, ” Bryant said. “But I think it’s a little excess to say that most women who’s not on contraception shouldn’t drink.”

The post No, The Government Did Not Just Tell Women To Stop Boozing appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2zyLPwq via IFTTT

[apsbicepstraining]

No, The Government Did Not Just Tell Women To Stop Boozing

More than 3. 3 million dames is under threatfor alcohol-exposed maternities, which can result in birth defects, developmental disabilities, miscarriage and fetal alcohol syndrome, according to a U.S. Centres for Disease Control and Prevention report publicized Tuesday.

What’s more, three out of four women who reported was intended to was pregnant “as soon as possible” persisted sucking alcohol.

News agencies and social media, however, concentrate on a secondary part of the report, which reminded women who aren’t trying to get pregnant that alcohol exposure could injure unborn babies if they inadvertently did get pregnant. News organizations understood the report as a mandate that all women of childbearing age who aren’t on birth control shouldn’t drinking. At all. Ever.

“CDC to Females: Protect Your Womb From the Devil Drink, ” gibed The Atlantic. Slate thought: “CDC Says Women Shouldn’t Drink Unless They’re On Family planning. Is It Drunk ?!?“

Jezebel, Elle and USA Today all expressed( righteous) resentment at the relevant recommendations that a government agency should suggest an entire population of adult dames stop boozing because of theoretical fetuses.

Just one difficulty: That’s not quite what the CDC said

“We obviously didn’t make any recommendations for women who are pre-pregnant, ” said Lela McKnight-Eily, an epidemiologist and clinical psychologist on the Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Prevention Team at the CDC.

“It’s more a matter of women knowing and being informedthat if they are drinking booze, sexually active and not exploiting birth control, that they could be disclosing a baby to a teratogen, and who are able to generate fetal booze spectrum agitations, ” McKnight-Eily said.

The informing was truly targeted at the three out of four women who reported was intended to was pregnant “immediately, ” but who said they continued boozing as they tried to conceive.

It was intended to inform dames about the risks of booze and pregnancy( both anticipated and unexpected) — not to control the behavior of women who aren’t trying to have a newborn.

“Women should have conversations with their health professionals about boozing booze and their own health, in general, “McKnight-Eily contributed. “Particularly if they are planning to was pregnant or trying to was pregnant, this should be part of the conversation that they’re having.”

McKnight-Eily declined to comment on the Internet backlash loosed by the report.

What the report actually said

The report rightly have also pointed out that half of maternities in the United States are unplanned, and obtained no difference in alcohol intake between women who were trying to was pregnant and women who weren’t.

While the report did note that sexually active women of reproductive age who drink booze and don’t help family planning is under threat for alcohol-exposed maternities, the thrust of the warn was led at the group actively trying to imagine.

“Every woman who is pregnant or trying to get pregnant — and her partner — crave a healthy newborn, ” Coleen Boyle, head of CDC’s National Center on Birth Defects and Developmental Disabilities, said in a statement. “But they may not be kept in mind that drinking any booze at any stagecoach of maternity can cause a range of disabilities for their child.”

Who’s at risk

According to the report, which canvassed more than 4,000 non-pregnant , non-sterile females between ages 15 and 44, the highest risk for alcohol-exposed maternity was in women between the ages of 25 and 29, who were married, cohabitating and had given birth to one child previously. Women who smoked were at a slightly higher peril of having an alcohol-exposed child than nonsmokers.

There too was a link between a mother’s education and alcohol-exposure maternity. That receiving tracks with previous CDC research showing that alcohol use duringpregnancy is twice as commonamong women with college grades than among women with high school diplomas or less.

Experts say the guideline isn’t realistic

“People can take six months to get pregnant. They can take a year to get pregnant, ” Amy Bryant, an associate professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the University of North Carolina, told The Huffington Post. “Personally, I think it’s a jolly unrealistic mandate.”

Despite the paternalistic undertones many met in the CDC’s message, Bryant noted that the agency is simply trying to give clear advice to girls about their reproductive health.

“They interpret the incidents of fetal alcohol disorder, ” she said.

Advising maidens about booze during pregnancy is especially fraught, since drinking during pregnancy hasn’t been studied often, mainly for ethical intellects. As a result, the CDC takes a hard-line stance: No sum of alcohol is safe during pregnancy.

“It’s genuinely uncertain what the effect of alcohol is on miscarriage and on idea, ” Bryant said. “It’s probable that that one glass of wine-coloured is not going to do anything, but “youre telling” girls that it’s safe to drink in pregnancy and then you end up with all this fetal booze syndrome — and it is entirely preventable.”

While the CDC team could have framed policy recommendations better, the new report are in accordance with the agency’s long-held stance on alcohol during pregnancy.

“There isn’t a new recommendation. It’s been recommended for decades that dames not suck during pregnancy, ” McKnight-Eily said.

“We think that there are a lot of mixed themes out there, and we want to give wives a clear message that there is no safe period, “were not receiving” safe quantity or type of alcohol to drink during pregnancy.”

In trying to cut through this misinformation and streamline mixed themes for women, the CDC’s public health message went flustered, contributing many the impression it was more punishing than clarifying.

“They certainly do want people to be aware, even in early pregnancy, booze can affect a fetus, ” Bryant said. “But I think it’s a little excess to say that most women who’s not on contraception shouldn’t drink.”

The post No, The Government Did Not Just Tell Women To Stop Boozing appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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