#they were the only thing I found palatable at the coffee bar where my friends hung out on the first floor of the humanities building

[random2908]

My favorite food is pain au chocolat. I don’t even feel like I need to explain it. It is so obviously and manifestly a perfect food.

[owl-with-a-pen]

I would love to see a Valentine’s Day chapter with Brainy and nia. We didn’t get to see much of it on that one episode, beside that fact Brainy went to her party and gave her chocolates that Yvette ate later. Just a simple one where Brainy is super sweet and asks nia to be his valentine wether this is before or after they’re together. Thanks!

Anon also asked:  Hi there! would you ever think of doing a valentine's themed fic for brania? I miss them so much and I love your work!

- I know I’m a day late, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for the prompts x

Valentine’s Day was going to be weird this year, Nia knew it.

After everything Brainy had been through over the last few months, the last thing Nia wanted was to push the most commercial of commercial holidays on him, especially considering they’d never actually had a Valentine’s Day together. She couldn’t exactly count the epic failure that had been their first Valentine’s party  on account of the fact that they hadn’t seen each other the whole night.

And, last year?

There was no use sugar coating it; they’d both been going through hell last year. The break-up had still been fresh in Nia’s mind and although Kara had tried to help her out of the funk she’d been in, Nia had still spent the whole day curled up on the sofa - her only hot date that night had been with an ice cold tub of Ben and Jerry’s.  

Now that Nia understood the reason behind their break-up, she knew that Brainy hadn’t been faring any better than her at the time, either. The only thing he’d had to keep his mind occupied were the asinine tasks Lex had kept him performing as placeholders whenever a new piece of his plan had yet to unfold.

Nia tried not to linger on that year. What mattered now was that the truth was finally out. Brainy was safe and healthy and, most importantly, he was finally starting to feel like himself again. 

Nia didn’t care that Brainy hadn’t so much as made mention of the holiday – not even after Kara had invited them to a lowkey Valentine’s get together at her place later that evening, an invitation that had only been extended as far as the Super Friends. Considering Brainy had been reluctant to hang out with everyone as a group since Leviathan, Nia was only glad that he’d wanted to go at all. Besides, she didn’t care about gifts or celebrations, she was just thankful to put the past behind her and finally have Brainy back in her life.

Which was why she was all the more surprised to open their apartment door that evening and find Brainy stood on the other side, a bunch of roses held tightly in one hand.

A grin lit up Nia’s face in an instant. “Hey,” she said, not even trying to hide the glee from her voice. “Are those for me?”

“Indeed,” Brainy said, taking a step forward. In the same motion, he removed his other hand from behind his back, revealing a heart shaped box of chocolates. “I – uh – appreciate we have never successfully completed a Valentine’s Day tradition before, so allow this to be the first.”

Nia didn’t think she could smile any harder if she tried. She took the flowers from Brainy, the fresh scent of their petals brushing against her nose as she brought them to her face. She felt a blush race across her cheeks. “Real flowers, huh?” she asked mischievously.

Brainy’s lips quirked into a small smile of his own. “That is the custom,” he said, offering the chocolate box out to her with a practiced flourish. “As is this.” He cleared his throat, raising his chin. “Nia Nal, will you be my Valentine?”

A blush flooded across Nia’s face as she grinned again, nodding hard. “Yes, Brainy, of course I’ll be your Valentine.” She accepted the chocolates from Brainy’s hand, juggling them along with the flowers until they were both cradled in one arm. 

“This is amazing,” she said honestly, closing the space between them so that she could hug him with her free arm. She ducked her face into Brainy’s shoulder, squeezing him tight.

The warmth of him spread through her face as she buried her head into his throat. A moment later, she could feel Brainy’s hands travelling around her waist, pressing firmly against the small of her back. His touch sent something electric dancing up Nia’s spine and she softened against him, pulling away just enough to press a kiss against his lips.

When they parted, Nia didn’t miss the elated glimmer behind Brainy’s eyes. It was such a soft expression, one that hadn’t adorned Brainy’s face for so long, Nia had almost begun to forget what it looked like. Now that Brainy had begun to relax into himself, that happiness had become far more commonplace, although it still warmed Nia’s heart whenever she got to see that expression and know that she was the cause of it. Impetuously, Nia reached for Brainy’s face, brushing her thumb along his jaw, hoping to preserve that smile for as long as possible.

She blinked suddenly, realising belatedly that they were still stood in the middle of the doorway. “I should really put these in water,” she said, hugging the flowers against her side. She ushered Brainy inside with her free hand, turning to the kitchen to find a vase. “And by the way,” she continued over her shoulder, placing the heart-shaped box on the closest counter, “this isn’t technically the first time you’ve bought me a Valentine’s gift.”

Nia didn’t need to turn her head to know the face Brainy was pulling. “Ah, yes,” he murmured apprehensively. “Although, I wouldn’t say our first Valentine’s Day necessarily went… according to plan.”

“Oh, I remember,” Nia said, selecting an empty glass vase from the top shelf. She headed to the faucet, filling it with water. When she glanced up, she found Brainy watching her from across the kitchen counter, his arms folded across its surface. She smirked. “Didn’t you spend most of that party hidden in my closet?”

Brainy offered a tight smile, ducking his head. “Yvette was certainly a force to be reckoned with,” he admitted lowly, glancing up at her. “Although, I do appreciate you talking with her about boundaries.”

Nia’s expression softened. “Any time.”

She’d known Yvette hadn’t meant to take Brainy out of his comfort zone by dragging him to the dancefloor that night. Considering Nia had made herself MIA for most of that party – a party she’d specifically invited Brainy to - Yvette had only wanted for him to feel included.

But, the party hadn’t been Brainy’s thing to begin with. She’d left him to his own devices in a room otherwise filled with strangers, and maybe at the time she hadn’t realised just how anxious Brainy got in those sorts of situations, but she knew better now. Still, it didn’t stop her from feeling all kinds of crappy that she’d allowed that to happen, even if her head hadn’t totally been in the game at the time.

Nia played with the roses’ arrangement in their new home, spreading them equally around the vase. She sighed. “I didn’t exactly make that night any easier for you, though.”

“You had a lot on your mind,” Brainy said softly.

Yeah, Nia thought. She’d been so obsessed with finally making strides towards her role as a hero, taking up the mantle her mom had so proudly left for her, she’d even dismissed Brainy’s incredibly sweet gesture the first time around, disregarding his gift of chocolates in favour of a new training regime. But, not anymore. This time, they were doing this right.

“Well,” she said decisively, setting the vase to the side, “right now, my mind’s totally clear.” She glanced again towards the box of chocolates, biting the inside of her cheek. “C’mon,” she said, snatching them from the counter. “We can share these.” 

As she walked around the breakfast bar, she took Brainy’s arm, urging him towards the sofa. Brainy followed curiously a pace behind her.

As Nia settled, tucking her legs beneath her, she popped open the box, reading the label on the inside. She grinned. “There’s coffee flavour ones in here, too? Okay, I take back what I just said. We can share any except for those.”

Brainy supressed an obvious shudder as he sat down. “They are… all yours.”

“What?” Nia prodded playfully, nudging his arm. “Not a fan?”

Brainy wrinkled his nose, gesturing vaguely ahead of himself. “I just don’t understand how two opposing flavours serve to compliment one another.”

“Oh, and yet apples and olives are just… a natural choice on pizza,” Nia scoffed.

“Either one would be far more palatable covered in chocolate.”

Nia rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’ll agree with you about the apples,” she said, already perusing the selection, trying to find the coffee flavoured truffle as advertised on the card. “But, I’m pretty sure chocolate covered olives are a crime against nature.” She beamed when she found her prize, taking a large bite out of the candy. When Brainy’s face scrunched in disgust, she laughed, covering her mouth before any wayward chocolate dribbled out. 

She held the chocolates out on her lap for Brainy to browse, which only fuelled the next twenty minutes’ topic of discussion with good natured jabs aimed towards each other’s preferred chocolate flavours. 

By the time they needed to head out for Kara’s party, the first layer had been all but demolished.

“We should probably get going,” Nia said as she spied the time on the kitchen clock. She pecked Brainy’s cheek before unfurling herself from his side, stretching out her arms.

When she stood, she realised that Brainy hadn’t followed her up. Instead, there was a reserved look in his eyes, a nervous twist to his lips as he remained sat on the sofa’s edge, toying absently with his Legion ring. 

“Brainy?” Nia asked, her voice softening. When Brainy looked up, she smiled gently. “Everything okay?” 

Brainy opened his mouth as though he might answer, but instead, no words came out. Nia sat back down, resting her hand on his leg. “Hey, you sure you’re up for this? You know there’s no pressure.”

Brainy shook himself a little, clenching and unclenching his hand hesitantly. “I do,” he said carefully, glancing back towards her. “I am. It’s just…”

“I get it,” Nia said, squeezing his leg. And, she did. Even though the gathering would be small, filled with the people Brainy cared about, on some level, Nia understood that that was what he was dreading the most. As much as he knew that his friends had forgiven him, the real issue was that Brainy hadn’t yet reached a place where he’d been able to forgive himself. It’d come in time, but if he refused every get-together or social gathering entirely, it’d only take him that much longer to reach the obvious conclusion.

That he was loved. And that was never going to change.

And, hey, what better time to remind him of that than on Valentine’s Day?

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Nia assured him. “And, if you’re not feeling it, we don’t have to stay for long. What d’you say?”

After a long moment’s consideration, Brainy glanced down, taking Nia’s hand. He smiled, a little of his confidence returning as he nodded his head. “Okay,” he said.

Nia grinned. “Okay.” 

Maybe she’d been wrong, maybe Valentine’s wasn’t going to feel as weird this year. After all, with flowers, chocolate, and finally having the chance to spend the day with Brainy at her side, Nia realised that maybe this might turn out to be the best Valentine’s Day she’d ever had.

[dracjoonie]

{Dither} Yoongi / Producer!Reader {Chap.1:Ctrl+z}

⥂𝚃̲𝚊̲𝚐̲𝚜͢ : Idol!Yoongi x Producer!Reader, fluff, mild angst, eventual smut, slow burn, reluctant friends to lovers. ⥂𝚂̲𝚞̲𝚖̲𝚖̲𝚊̲𝚛̲𝚢͢  : You’re an independent producer working to make your big breakthrough whilst trying to keep your creative integrity when you become acquainted with someone you never thought you could work with.  ⥂𝙰̲/̲𝙽͢ : Once again I’m incapable of writing an OC that isn’t tsundere af, good thing they have something in common~  ⥂𝚆̲/̲𝙲͢  : 3399

 You had a feeling the day would be eventful, but not like this. You thought maybe you would get a few killer tracks finished, maybe pop out of the house for some much needed air, and that would be it. But now you were sat at your desk, cellphone in hand, debating on how to reply to the message you had been spacing out over for the past ten minutes. 

 “There’s this big event happening tonight. I’m not sure who’s hosting the party, but a bunch of A list celebrities in the music scene are gonna be there. It would be a great networking opportunity for you, I think you should go. I know a few people who are going that are dying to work with you, and you seriously need to get out more..” 

  A message from a colleague of yours; Aida, who’s probably right. But that didn't make the thought of venturing out into such a crippling social climate any more tempting. So your options were: stay home and continue working and hope you hit another breakthrough and make a lot of money. Or, go out and find other artists to potentially work with and inevitably make even more money... Decisions.. You weren’t going to make that much as just a producer if you didn’t aim higher and work with bigger artists, but your quaint life now was nothing to complain about either.

 Rather than stare at your now black phone screen for any longer, you opted for tossing it aside to continue working for another ten minutes before you would decide. But your plans were thwarted when you saw your phone screen flashing with another message. You tisked before picking it up, needing to know what she said next despite your tendency to not actually reply back.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Another text.

“”Why go out when I could just not?” But I’m serious. Your name is already out there in the music scene, they know your work. You just need to go out there and meet people. Your work is unique, you need to stop squandering your potential by being such a shut in.” 

“Well damn.” You typed the words quickly into your messenger before hitting send, leaning back in your desk chair to watch the little dots that signaled she was typing something back.

“So, will you go?” 

“I guess. Since now you’ve wounded my pride and all.” You hit send and continued typing.

“When and where” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up at 9, ok? Just wear something cool and I’ll handle the rest.”

 You sighed before tossing your phone down where you had previously. It was only 5pm so at least you had time for your original plans for the day. It wasn’t like you weren’t grateful to her for dragging you out all the time, the results were always in your favor. You just found it bothersome how little notice she would grant you. But it was probably just her knowing that giving you more time would just mean more time for you to slither your way out. 

 You loved the work you did, you just wished that working on bigger songs that reached more people didn’t require actually talking to them.. An email would suffice, a phone call maybe. Only meeting in the studio for recordings or to finalize the finished product, but again that could be done just as smoothly with the big wall that is your desktop separating you from whoever it was you were working with. You just wanted to work, not have small talk, not get coffee and ramble on about whatever topics had nothing to do with the actual music you were working on. You just wanted to socialize enough to solidify a concept; build a track to represent it, record it, and wrap it up with a fresh new bow to be released to the public. Simple, or so you thought.

 It might be important and beneficial to get to know who you were working with for other people, but for you it just cramped your creativity. Its harder to think when you have someone leaning over you and giving input; good input sure, but input on a track you weren’t anywhere finished with wasn’t helping. It was like backseat driving, ‘yeah I’ll switch lanes when I’m ready, just gimmy a sec, jeez’. 

 You shook it off as another inevitable occurrence, trying to think only of the positives. If what Aida was telling you was true; and A list musicians were actually going to be there, this could be huge for you. So far you had worked mostly with the more underground hip-hop and rnb scene, helping with a few breakthrough tracks here and there. That was enough for you, and by now you didn’t need to; or more so didn’t have time, to work on your own solo music. It was just for fun anyway, and you didn’t expect your own music to gain that much traction. You wouldn’t describe it as “palatable” to the average listener, it was all experimental. A commenter once described it as “ambient electronic wailing with a slow hip-hop beat”, and you liked that description well enough.

 You clicked the spacebar on your computer and let the track you were working on replay through your speakers. But just like before, you saw your phone flashing.

“You better be getting ready.” 

You grumbled before typing your reply.

“I have hours Aida, I’m working rn..”

You waited on her this time, not wanting to get interrupted again.

“And how long has it been since you’ve actually left the house? You must be tripping over your leg hairs by now. Get to weed wacking, you need to look fresh like your music. THIS IS A BIG DEAL.”

“It’s not that long, damn. Who is it I’m trying to impress anyway?” 

“The word on the street is that BTS is going.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious! Idols y/n!”

“*Gasp* Oh my gOSh for reaLz?.. I’m not shaving for some rumored “ Idol party”. That’s not my gig anyway.”

“It could be if you’d actually try. And you already said yes so you’re going.”

“If this is true at all, how the hell are you getting us in?”

“I told you I would handle it. I was thinking you should wear that black tunic top you have.. The asymmetrical one with the hood?  And leather pants! Gotta be leather.. I think heels might be trying too hard though..”

“You taking up styling now?”

“So you’ll go?”

“Sounds like I don’t have a choice anyway.”

“You don’t. See you at 7.”

𝟷̲𝟶̲:̲𝟸̲𝟹̲𝚙̲𝚖͢

 Aida had her whole frame stretched across the middle console of the taxi she insisted on calling. Pointing frantically and shouting for the driver to turn in whatever wild directions she had to wherever it was she was taking you. You sat to the left of her, behind the driver's seat. Just watching the streetlights pass by. A palm drumming on your thighs to the beat in your head. Her loud voice was easy enough to ignore, but you were beginning to regret leaving with her. You had this bubbling anxiety growing in your chest; nothing too crippling, but you could feel it and it was growing more annoying the closer you got. 

“Oh! There it is! It’s just up here on the left! You can drop us off out back, -let me find my wallet..” 

You turned to where she pointed, not really having noticed what part of town you were in until now. 

“A hotel..? Are you sure this is the right place..?” 

“Yes! Its a 5 star hotel and it’s full of ballrooms they rent out for events like this. This is the real deal y/n, not some shoddy bar like you’re use to.” 

You scoffed. “Well whatever, let’s just get this over with..”

 “Stop being like that- Here you go, keep the change~” She started to scurry her way out of the backseat, fiddling around to get her wallet back into her purse. You followed, sliding across the seats towards the open car door. 

 You stepped out, gravel crunching under your boots. Aida was already booking it towards the back entrance. Her long curls tussling about behind her and bouncing with every step. You sped up,closing the distance from behind her. 

“So what’s the plan? Just waltz in? There’s a bouncer.”

 She hushed you before walking right up to the guy. He wasn’t anything intimidating, just tall.. Very tall, towering over her with zero effort.

“I’m sorry miss, if you’re here for a reservation with the hotel you’ll need to go through the front entrance. We have an event going on tonight.” 

You took a step next to her, taking notice of the way the bouncers eyes lingered on you.

“I’m aware.” She giggled. “The event is what I-we’re here for.” 

“U-hum-” He began, chuckling and looking down at her as if he was speaking to a confused little girl. “This is invite only, do you have an invite?” 

“Nope. But I have her~” She chimed, leaning into you and tipping you to the side with her cheery smile and batted eyelashes. ‘This was your plan..?’

The guard merely cleared his throat and turned to you. “And do you have an invite?”

“Nope. Sorry to waste your time, we’ll be on our way now.” Your latched an arm around Aida to drag her away but she stopped you. Typical.

“Hey! Y/n! -This is Y/N Y/L/N. Aka. CenøByte.” 

He glowered. Staring at Aida with dead eyes and towering doubt.

“That producer?.. Well that’s a new one, no one's pretended to be her before..” 

“HaHA!-” She jumped up, clinging onto your shoulder with her pointy nails and shaking you back and forth. “I told you people know your name!” 

“I know a lot of names. It’s part of the job, but I’m guessing you can’t prove this as your actual identity.” 

You huffed a ‘correct’ before turning back around to leave. 

“Y/N Don’t you dare! Show him your twitter or something.” You rolled your eyes making it very obvious that your irritation was directed to her and her alone, but continued to dig your phone out of your back pocket despite it all. 

“Hold on... “ You opened the app and flipped it to your account page with your username and blue check clearly there.  “Here.. I’m legit. -But this still isn’t an invite so I’ll gladly leave.” 

He reached for your phone, squinting at the screen to verify.

“We’ll I’ll be damned. Hey, that one song you did with ___ was pretty dope. You know what?-” He handed your phone back and wrapped his long arms around to pull something out of his pocket. “I’m not supposed to do this, but I don’t see a real issue-” He leaned over you entirely now, pushing Aida out of the picture as he held a tiny black notepad in front of you.

“You sign this, and I’ll slip you an invitation.”

“Wait, for real..?” You deadpanned. Aida was already jumping for joy. “YES!! I KNEW THIS WOULD WORK!” 

“Yeah. I’ve bounced a lot of parties by now, and I have a lot of autographs. But you? You’re so elusive I doubt anyone even knows what you look like. And you never show up to these things, The boss has even tried to invite you to a couple but no one knows your address-”

“I prefer emails...”

“- Right.. Anyway, an autograph from you’s probably pretty coveted.. Deal?”   

You turned to Aida for input but she was practically screaming at you through telepathy. Her voice in your head already -’You better sign that before I beat you within an inch of your life.’

“Deal..” You stuttered out, grabbing the tiny notepad and pen from his hands and scribbling down your stage name. Something you had never been asked to do before. 

“Well, here you go I guess..” 

He hummed as he looked down at your scribbled writing.

“A little sloppy, you should work on that. Was this your first autograph?”

You reached up and grasped the back of your neck sheepishly before replying.

“Yeah, that obvious?” 

“Yeah. But that’s ok-” His eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you. “-Just makes this more special. You two can head inside, just don’t forget you’re old pal here when you’re on magazine covers, ok?” 

You gave him a weak smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

He stepped aside and bowed just slightly to signal you inside. You pushed the door open; holding it and nodding for Aida to go in ahead of you. She did, a smug smile pulling at her features. 

“Told you I had a plan.” She said matter of fact, swaying her long curls back and forth as she walked ahead of you down the corridor. 

“You’re insane.. But what else is new.”

𝟷̲𝟶̲:̲𝟹̲𝟾̲𝚙̲𝚖͢

 It was dark inside, barely lit by the ornate chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. A wide open space with several couches and a full bar that sat at the back side of the ballroom. It was filled with people, many of which you recognized from tabloids and music shows.

“Oh shit, you weren’t kidding.” You whispered, nudging Aida awkwardly. 

She gasped dramatically, eyes glued on a man across the room. 

“I think I found my future husband, gotta dash.” She took several steps away from you before you could react to her sudden outburst.

“Hey! Are you leaving me!?” She scoffed but turned back regardless.

“You’ll be fine, go be productive or something.” 

 You glowered as she made her way across the room, leaving you alone in the middle of so many strangers you didn’t want to have to deal with. 

‘Should have guessed this would happen.’ You sighed, trying to ignore all the eyes you were now all too aware of. Alone and an intruder at such a high profile party, this wasn’t what you signed up for. You tried to ignore the way your chest began to tighten while making a B-line for the bar. If you had to deal with this situation you at least wanted to be happily intoxicated.

 You took a seat at one of the open bar stools, closest to the wall, and tapped your nails against the counter as you waited for the bartender to acknowledge your presence. He was busy with several other guests and that was understandable, you nodded in appreciation when he signaled to you that he would be over when he was free. You tried your best to relax, swiveling your seat around so that you could lean against the wall and observe the room. You could see Aida already flirting shamelessly with the man she had spotted earlier. He looked familiar; real handsome and tall, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You could almost hear her girlish giggle from over the music and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. You moved on, glancing about the many faces around the room. It was such a versatile mix. Idols, singers, a few actors you even knew. You spotted a couple of men you thought you recognized from Got7 but weren’t involved enough to know for sure, much less their names. No BTS though, they would be hard to miss with how many billboards and TV appearances you had seen them on. But you could gloat to Aida about how wrong she was on that later. 

You sighed again. 

 This really wasn’t your scene. What was she expecting you to do here anyway? Find an artist you were compatible with and work together? Was anything ever that simplistic? You didn’t know these people and they sure as hell didn’t know you, and starting conversations with strangers wasn’t exactly your strong suit.  You had half a mind to just up and leave when someone grabbed your attention. A man slumped into the stool next to yours, waving the bartender over immediately. That already gave you a twinge of frustration. There were plenty of seats not next to you, and you were clearly waiting first.  

“Never seen you before.” 

You hummed in reply.

“Who are you?” His tone was so dry it gave you the urge to just ignore him and move on. Instead you bit back your annoyance; this wasn’t the place to be such a hot fuse.

“Does it matter?” 

“Ya. Kinda. Should you even be here?” 

“Probably not.” He lifted a brow at you before taking a slow sip of his whisky. 

“Then how the hell did you get in?” 

“I signed an autograph.” You spoke plainly, not wanting to elaborate.

 He raised a skeptical brow. 

“Who’s?” 

“My own?” 

He hummed and nodded before taking another slow sip. 

“Are you really not going to tell me your name?”

“Its CenøByte. Doesn’t change much, does it?’

“ CenøByte ?”

You tilted your head down in a nod. 

“Are you.. That producer?” 

“Well yeah. What, is there someone else with that name? Dang, and I thought I was original.”

He scoffed at you just as the bartender was coming back around.

“We’ll I’d sure hope not. You really need an upgrade.” 

You caught yourself mid eye roll as you moved to give your order. The bartender gave you a bright customer service smile before leaning in.

“-Sorry hun, what’ll you have.” You cringed at the name. 

“Just a whisky.” His face fell.

“Oh, I’m sorry! No can do -I just poured the last of it. Is there anything else I can get you?” Of course. ‘What kind of idol party isn’t fully stocked anyway..’ 

You sighed. “A bourbon then.”

“You’ve got it!” He smiled again before dipping away to make your last resort option. You glanced back at the man next to you, him eyeing you knowingly. Glass of whisky in hand.

“Sorry- “

“-Don’t. And what is your stage name anyway, since you think mine is so outdated.” You quipped, drumming your fingers against the counter impatiently as you waited.  

There was a look in his dark eyes that you couldn’t quite read. 

“You crash a high profile party and you don’t even know the guests? Cute. So whatever could you be here for then, hm?” 

 If he wasn’t already getting on your last nerve, he certainly was now. But you played the game anyway. After all, Aida did want you to socialize. No one said you need to be nice about it. 

“The whisky of course, but we know how that went.” 

There was something familiar about his smile, sly but sweetened by his soft features. Something about his hair too, the way he had the underneath shaved but his long bangs swept just along his brow. You were sure you'd seen him on tv before but you couldn’t place where or with who. Not that it matter to you anyway, he stole your whisky so therefore he was irrelevant.

“Then I guess you’ll be leaving soon.”

“Oh gosh, am I bothering you? I heard all you Idol types were assholes behind the scenes but this is truly something.” The words came out before you could stop yourself. Thankfully the bartender came with your drink and a little straw you didn’t much need. He set the glass down in front of you, giving you a smile and a wink before he rushed back over to his other guests. 

“If you don’t know my stage name, how do you know I’m an idol?” You met his playful gaze with laxed irritation. 

“You’re right.-” Your smirked, stirring your bourbon before looking him dead in the eye to continue. “You’re too scrawny to be an idol.” The way his jaw dropped in shock made your night, him nodding as he took another sip. 

“Ok bitch, damn. Maybe that should be your stage name.” His tone was playful despite his words, and it managed to make you smile for the first time in a long while. There was a glint in his eyes when he regarded you. His name was right on the tip of your tongue..

You downed the rest of your bourbon before speaking again.

“Bitch, huh? Soo creative. You must be a producer.”

“I am.. Among other things.” Another sip. 

His name had to be something short. Something catchy. Something with an A in it? Maybe a D?

“And my stage name is Suga, for the record.”

Yikes.

⥂𝙰̲/̲𝙽̲-̲𝟸͢: Hope this was somewhat enjoyable ^.^ , I’ve had ideas for this fic for a long time now so I figured now was a good time to start posting it. And any feedback/interaction would be much appreciated <3

[bittysvalentines]

Careful Fear and Dead Devotion

To: @happyzimm

From: @doggernaut /RabbitRunnah

Rating: T, for mentions of alcohol.

Relationship: Jack Zimmermann/Eric Bittle

Characters: Jack Zimmermann, Eric Bittle, Bad Bob Zimmermann, Kent Parson, original child character

Tags: Jack Zimmermann, Zimbits, Jack Zimmermann character study

Happy Valentine’s Day, @happyzimm! I hope you enjoy this little Jack Zimmermann character study. I tried to incorporate some of the other things you asked for as well.

i.

Jack Zimmermann is five years old, and his feet don’t touch the ground.

He’s sitting in a hard, plastic chair at a table for two while Papa waits in line to order doughnuts. There are two Papas in this doughnut shop — the one standing in line, and the one on the poster behind the counter.

The Papa in line is wearing his home clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, running shoes. The Papa on the wall is wearing work clothes — his Pens jersey but not his helmet — and holding a doughnut decorated with black and yellow sprinkles.

Even though the real Papa’s back is turned to him, it feels like he’s watching Jack.

When Maman takes him to get doughnuts after his swim lesson she always takes him to the shop across the street from the rec center, the one with yellow tables and the smiling man behind the counter who always hands Jack his chocolate old-fashioned doughnut and cinnamon sugar doughnut hole before he orders. The one that does not have a picture of Papa on the wall.

But Maman is working in California — Jack has never been to California, but he knows it’s a place people go to work, because Papa goes there too — so Papa had to take Jack to his swim lesson today. Papa doesn’t know Maman always takes Jack to the other doughnut shop, and when he told Papa this is the wrong one it was too late. They were already here.

The boy behind the counter is much younger than the man who works at the other doughnut shop. He must be friends with Papa because he greets him by name and talks to him longer than he talked to the other people in line. Papa knows a lot of people.

“Told you that wouldn’t take long, Jacky.” Papa sets a sprinkle doughnut with white icing on a paper napkin in front of Jack and opens his chocolate milk for him.

Jack frowns and picks at the black and yellow sprinkles on the doughnut. He doesn’t like the colors, or the way they feel in his teeth when he chews them.

“What’s wrong?” Papa asks. “Not hungry?”

Jack is hungry. He’s always hungry after his swim lesson. He picks off a teeny tiny piece of doughnut — a part that isn’t touching white icing or colored sprinkles — and sticks it in his mouth. He eats the entire cake part of the doughnut this way while Papa eats his maple bar and an apple fritter. When he’s finished, all that’s left is a ring of sticky icing and sprinkles.

“All finished?” Papa asks when he notices Jack is no longer eating. “Do you want another?”

Jack thinks. It would be rude to ask for another doughnut, but Papa is offering. “Can I have chocolate?” he asks.

“Hey, Paulie!” Papa’s voice is loud in the mostly-empty shop as he waves to get the attention of the guy behind the counter. “Can I get a chocolate doughnut for my boy?”

Paulie comes around to their table and hands the doughnut to Jack. Jack whispers a “thank you” as Papa hands Paulie some money and tells him to “keep the change.” He winks and smiles, and it’s the same smile as the Papa on the poster behind the counter.

Jack takes a bite of the new doughnut and chews. The chocolate is rich and sweet. He takes another bite and swings his legs as Papa smiles at him.

ii.

Jack is 18, and he is so close to having it all.

“Drink up!”

The bottle Kent presses into Jack’s hand is cold and smooth except for the label, damp and wrinkled from condensation. Jack doesn’t like these parties and he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol. It burns on the way down and tastes like spite, a bitter, caustic thing that burns inside of him whenever Papa offhandedly remarks that Kent just might go first. Jack doesn’t like the way that feels, or the way he feels for feeling that way. But he likes the way he feels after a few beers, the way it makes him loose and brave. Kent says it makes him more fun. So Jack takes a pull of his beer and grimaces, quickly twisting his mouth into a smile when he catches Kent glancing his way.

One beer makes Jack loose enough that his smile comes more easily.

Two beers and the world starts to shimmer around the edges, suffusing everything with a nice haze that makes him feel buoyant and bold. When he’s on the ice he feels loose and free, not heavy and grounded the way he feels as soon as he removes his skates. On the ice he does the right things and the words come easily; people smile and cheer his name. Two beers in and Jack feels closer to the way he feels on the ice, his ever-present anxiety and self-consciousness fading into something palatable.

Three beers is the magic number. He can laugh at jokes made at his expense about that shot he missed and flirt with the girls who somehow always know where the team is partying. With three beers in him, Jack’s hand can find Kent’s in the dark and he doesn’t worry that he’s not really this brave. He doesn’t worry about any of it.

“Zimms! There’s girls here!” Rusty, yelling from the other side of the room, is anything but subtle. Though these girls, with their loud, exaggerated laughter, don’t seem like they value subtlety anyway. One of them catches his eye, a small blonde who doesn’t look away when Jack catches her staring.

Jack runs his thumb back and forth over the smooth label, wearing away a patch in the center. Bits of paper bead up and cling to it, turn gritty under his thumb. When he tries to brush them away they just stick to him.

“Awww, is Zimms gonna score again? Score on the ice, score off the ice, is that how it works?”

“Shut up.” Jack elbows Kent.

“Make me.”

Jack swallows hard, suddenly remembering exactly what he did to make Kent shut up last night, and the night before. He can’t do this right now. He shouldn’t do this ever. The one thing that matters, the only thing that matters, according to Jack’s father, is THE DRAFT.

That’s how he thinks of it, in all caps.

Tonight when Jack counted out his pills, there were seven missing. He doesn’t know how it happened. He’s good with numbers, at knowing the score at all times. He remembers the shots he made and the shots he missed, keeps a running tally in his head. He memorizes stats. Not just his, but those of every first round draft pick of the last five years, and those of every guy who has even been mentioned as a first round pick this year. He is constantly calculating his odds.

Jack is good with numbers. How has he lost track of the pills he’s taken?

Somebody pries the beer bottle, now warm, from Jack’s hand and replaces it with a new one. Jack didn’t even realize he’d finished the first. Jack takes another drink.

He is so close to having it all, and he is so close to losing it all.

*****

iii

Jack is 24, and when he swiftly pays for Bittle’s coffee, telling his teammate he’s “good for it,” he realizes he is. It’s not just that he can afford it because he’s about to sign an NHL contract. It’s also because Bittle is his friend, and Jack enjoys doing nice things for his friends.

Somehow, and Jack still cannot explain how though he suspects it has a bit to do with Bittle’s own grit and generosity, Bittle has become one of Jack’s best friends.

Checking practice, a morning workout that it turns out they both needed, isn’t really necessary anymore. These days, the early ice time with Bittle is just an excuse for an extra workout. Sometimes they even goof off more than they practice, a concept Jack would have found sacrilegious a year ago. They race each other around the rink, skating faster and faster until their breath comes in aching gasps. Or Bittle will pull out a jump, tentative and imprecise. “I know it’s not impressive,” Bittle says self-deprecatingly, “but just imagine if I had my figure skates.”

Bittle is wrong. Jack is very impressed. Somehow those words catch in his throat when he tries to voice them so he just nods.

Afterward, they get coffee. Jack drinks his black and bitter. “Like your soul,” Bittle once joked. Jack used to think that was true, but now he thinks that maybe he’s softened. More and more, he feels the way Bittle’s milky latte looks: lighter, cooler, sweeter.

Jack takes a sip of Bittle’s latte by accident and ... it’s not unpleasant. There’s an underlying smoky sweetness Jack’s own black coffee is missing, a richness that makes him yearn for a second sip before he hands it back. It’s not the worst thing.

“Good?” Bittle asks, eager and expectant, like Jack’s answer will reveal the secrets of the universe.

“It’s not disappointing,” Jack concedes.

“Well, for five dollars I should think not!” Bittle scoffs as they head back out into the cold.

Bittle wears gloves in 40 degrees and pulls his toque down low over his ears, and sometimes Jack catches himself wondering what it would be like if he could provide that warmth. He decides, when Bitty gives him a friendly hip check, that maybe he’s getting there.

*****

iv

Jack is still 24, and he’s in what his boyfriend just called “Southern-Fried Hell.”

Okay, not really. Objectively, Bitty’s MooMaw’s place isn’t bad at all. It’s the fact that he’s here, sweating profusely and trying to politely choke down a plate of terrible coleslaw, while every single Bittle and Phelps in the state of Georgia attempts to engage in polite conversation when all he wants to do is find a private corner where he can make out with Bitty.

Jack doesn’t even like coleslaw. It’s slimy and stringy and this particular coleslaw is oddly sweet yet somehow bitter and acidic at the same time. There’s pepper in it? Pepper, and something gritty that might be sugar or possibly dirt. Jack hopes it’s sugar.

From the other side of the yard, Bitty catches his eye and hides a smile behind a slice of watermelon as Jack explains his upcoming training schedule to some uncle or cousin or neighbor. He’s been introduced to so many people today, and it’s exhausting. Jack genuinely wants to get to know Bitty’s family, but he also wants Bitty, and only one of those things is possible at the moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bitty laughs as he cards his fingers through Jack’s hair later that night. “You did not have to eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw. Bless her heart, she tries, but we all stopped pretending we liked it years ago.”

“I wanted to be polite,” Jack says. “Make a good first impression. My parents always made me try a little of everything at their parties.”

Bitty’s face does something complicated, a look equal parts pity and irritation. “Jack. I promise you nobody in this family is gonna think less of you because you don’t eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw, or Uncle Hank’s ribs, or Judy’s potato salad. I’m not gonna think less of you. It’s enough that you’re here.”

Bitty presses a little closer to Jack, and Jack’s body registers every point of skin-on-skin contact: elbows, hands, thighs, calves. Bitty’s bare foot where it tangles with Jack’s. It feels like there’s an electric current running through each point, vibrating at a frequency only they can feel.

Or it could just be the humidity. Georgia in July is really fucking humid.

Overhead, the fireworks show is starting, far enough away that they can see but not hear the spectacle.

“Promise me,” Bitty says, corners of his mouth quirking upward, “that next year you’ll skip the coleslaw.”

It should feel scary, to make that promise when this is still so new, but Jack can clearly see the years spooling out ahead of them, years of avoiding Aunt Connie’s coleslaw and making small talk with the strangers he met today until they’re no longer strangers.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bitty sighs happily and rests his head on Jack’s chest, a pleasant weight that reminds Jack of everything he’s found since the day he lost it all.

*****

v

Jack is 36, and some days he feels every day of it. His shoulders and knees ache more often than not, especially when a four-year old is perched on top of those aching shoulders. When they walk into Bitty’s shop he gently lifts Evie from his shoulders and sets her down in front of the bakery case so she can look at the day’s treats.

“Chocolate old-fashioned?” Bitty’s sliding the doughnut across the counter before Jack orders. He knows his husband. Never once, in all the time he’s owned this shop, has Jack ordered one of the novelty doughnuts he keeps on the menu even though there’s nothing really “novelty” about Skittles or Hot Cheetos on top of a doughnut these days. They’re a holdover from the previous owner, who made his name creating Instagrammable confections. Bitty’s taken his original recipes in a different direction, experimenting with natural food dyes and delicate floral infusions. His creations have gotten some attention in local foodie circles, but most people come in for the classics.

Jack still doesn’t eat sprinkle doughnuts. The sprinkles, even the organic ones Bitty uses, still stick in his teeth and make them feel funny. But Evie loves sprinkle doughnuts. She especially loves it when her daddy hands one to her and takes a break to sit with them while she eats it.

“How was your swim lesson, sweetheart?” Bitty asks, a soft sigh escaping as he sits for what is probably the first time all morning. Jack listens to the two chatter happily as he picks at his own doughnut, chewing slowly.

Jack remembers sitting in a shop like this with his own mother, and — occasionally — his father. He and Maman would stop at the doughnut shop across from his swim lesson for “a little treat,” as she liked to call it. They always went to that one instead of the chain shop Papa had an endorsement deal with; it was a long time before Jack realized Maman intentionally chose the smaller shop because of its anonymity.

“That’s Papa.” Evie points at the poster on the wall behind Bitty, at a smiling Jack holding a cake doughnut topped with sprinkles, Falcs blue and yellow. After the last Cup Bitty had the idea to recreate the advertisement Bad Bob did years ago, and with time Jack agreed that it could be fun. Somehow, the photographer managed to capture Jack at the exact moment he saw Bitty and Evie walk in. Bitty says it’s the most natural photo Jack has ever taken.

“That is your papa,” Bitty says. “Remember, we took the pictures together and talked about how we were going to put the one of just Papa up here in the shop because his team won the Cup? How does he look?”

Evie take a bite, swallows as she tilts her head and considers the Jack on the wall. Suddenly, he recalls with perfect clarity what it felt like to be four or five and see another version of his father in a public space. The way it made him feel proud and shy and scared for reasons he couldn’t articulate.

“Happy,” Evie finally declares, swinging her legs and beaming up at her fathers. “I think he looks happy.”

[taevren-blog]

Intermission

“You glance at the lit up screen, visibly wincing at the sight of Jungkook’s triple chin behind a contact name littered with a bunch of emojis. JGAY, it says, with an unsettling number of pink hearts next to it.”

➤ The producer in charge of mixing the track for your team in the upcoming dance competition turns out to be Hot Stranger who saved you in a dingy bathroom. No thanks to your sorry excuse for best friends and Jimin’s intolerable dependence on alcohol.

• pairing: yoongi / reader

• genre: teeth rotting fluff, eventual smut, 80% crack

• count: 3.5K

• tags: dancer!reader, producer!yoongi, established jikook, pining taejin

• note: this is my first ever attempt at writing so do let me know if this is your cup of tea

prologue >

There is a familiar sense of dread and an inkling of impending doom that settles in the pit of your stomach when you hear and physically feel the kitchen counter shake with the vibrations of your phone.

You glance at the lit up screen, visibly wincing at the sight of Jungkook’s triple chin behind a contact name littered with a bunch of emojis. JGAY, it says, with an unsettling number of pink hearts next to it.

It takes the shrill beeping of your digital kitchen timer for you to press on the glaring red button to reject the call, and you press it with a lot more pressure than required. No one is going to ruin your one day off. Not when you just purchased the most expensive – and pretentious – of ingredients to satisfy your cravings for a nice dinner and some alone time.

You move to unwrap the steak you bought, letting out a satisfied sigh as you place it on the cutting board. The R&B playlist you put on shuffles to play one of your all-time favourites, and you’re just about to break out into a horrible rendition of the first verse when the front door swings open.

“I LOVE THIS FUCKING SONG!”

Jungkook comes barrelling into the apartment, skidding to a halt to kick his shoes off to the side before resuming his Naruto run to the kitchen. A dissatisfied groan leaves your lips when you see that he has company.

“Wow.” Taehyung rounds the counter, peering at the boiling pot of vegetables. “Having an expensive dinner all by yourself and you didn’t even think about inviting us?”

You’re about to tell him to screw off when Jimin nudges you aside with his hip, opening the freezer and pulling out a tub of ice cream. Your tub of chocolate cookie dough ice cream.

“May I ask who invited the three of you?” There is a loud bang as you shut the overhead cupboard. “Last time I checked, I rejected the call.”

“Aw, don’t be so grumpy, we know you secretly want us here,” Jimin coos with a gentle pinch of your cheek before shoving a spoon into the tub of untouched ice cream.

Jungkook pokes at the piece of steak you were about to attend to.

“We’re like… Your best friends.”

“Don’t fucking touch the meat with your filthy hands!”

“I swear I washed them before I touched it-“

You whirl around and menacingly point the kitchen tool at him. “Before I swing this meat tenderiser mallet into your disgustingly proportionate face, you better get the hell out of my kitchen, Jeon.”

He raises both hands up in an act of surrender before darting behind a chuckling Jimin, who is now almost half done with your ice cream thanks to the help of Taehyung.

It’s not as if you didn’t enjoy their company. The thing is that you rarely give yourself day offs, and the last time you invited them over to one, it was an absolute nightmare.

“I know you’re thinking about the disaster that was movie night but I swear we’ll behave this time,” Jungkook promises, waving his pinky finger in the air.

You send him a pointed glare before turning to look at a gigantic hole in the wall where your clock is hung, the ever so present piece of evidence that reminds you of what went down that night.

An iron blade gets ripped out of its former place in the armour – the distinctive sound of metal slicing through the room – before stabbing into flesh at the same time clammy hands grip the leather of your jacket.

“You have my respect, Stark.”

There is a dramatic gasp and a ‘no! not iron man!’ to your right as you slam the glass of wine in your hand onto the coffee table. You then squirm in your seat, a hand raised up to push a sobbing Jimin away from your shoulder. It works for a wondrous two seconds before he lets out a loud sniffle and plops his head back down on it again.

“Fuck this.” You lean forward in your seat and shove a hand in the popcorn bucket sitting on the floor, still filled with the caramel coated treats abandoned halfway through the movie. Carelessly picking up a handful of what is left, you aim the popcorn in the direction of Jimin’s useless boyfriend and let them fly. “Can you please, for the love of God, get Jimin off my damn shoulder.”

Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the screen and he is so deeply engrossed in the movie that he doesn’t even look away when he pulls on Jimin’s arm to get the older man lying against him instead.

You stretch your neck towards the left to relieve yourself of the strain that came with holding it at an uncomfortable angle for so long before settling back into your seat. It is then, however, that the peace is shattered again by the last of three idiots.

“Don’t hate me,” a voice on your left mumbles, “but can you please hold my hand?”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you turn to look at Taehyung, whose lips are pulled down in a pout, eyes glistening with unshed tears. You then lightly pat his head in an act of comfort before reaching down to take his hand in yours.

You grumble under your breath just as the final scene starts to play, “Never watching a movie with any of you idiots again.”

“That was too much, I need a drink,” Jimin sniffles, shifting from his compromising position on Jungkook’s lap to grab the cheap vodka Taehyung bought at the nearby mart, downing it in one shot.

Needless to say, that was the start of what became a gigantic hole in your wall and one of many noise complaint letters found at your doorstep the next day.

“Alright, so maybe we are a mess,” Taehyung begins, but you’re already turned away from the three of them and rubbing kosher salt into your steak that should have been seared and plated half an hour ago, “but we came here to take you out!”

“Do you not see the kitchen apron that I am wearing and the uncooked meal that I am supposed to be having before the three of you so rudely interrupted me?”

A pregnant pause.

“Well, we just want to have a night out,” Jimin tries. He seals the empty tub now devoid of ice cream with the lid and slides it to the side. “You haven’t been out in weeks, Y/N. You’re always in the studio doing the same routines over and over again. It’s time to take a break, don’t you think?”

Jungkook takes the opportunity to chip in with a meaningless comment, “Yeah, and you seriously need to get laid- Oof!”

He almost slides off his seat after Jimin elbows him in the ribs but quickly grips onto the edge of the counter to pull himself back, a petulant pout on his lips.

“Kook’s not wrong-“ Taehyung laughs only to be cut off by thunderous bangs as you hammer the meat with your tenderiser mallet.

“Come out with us, please-“

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Jungkook pulls off one of his socks and throws them in your direction, aiming for the back of your head.

He misses.

A look of sheer terror and unmitigated fear takes over his face and he’s out of his seat in an instant the moment he sees his iron man sock land onto the stove.

“Oh my fucking- Kook!” Jimin yells, when he sees the sock catch fire.

You’re still aggressively pounding the meat, meat that now looks way too deformed to even look mildly palatable.

“Y/N, there’s a problem!”

“Maybe the three of you are the- OH MY GOD!”

You pause mid-whirl, almost dropping the metal hammer in your hands when you see the still burning sock get waved around in the air by a screaming Taehyung. He tries to hit it against the side of the table and panics when the fire still doesn’t go out.

“Sink!” Jimin grabs Taehyung’s arm and shoves it towards the tap. Water rushes out and Jungkook makes himself useful by manically smacking the sock with your dishwashing sponge.

It takes a full minute for everyone to register the fact that the sock is no longer on fire, and another thirty seconds before you rip your apron off and pounce for the muscled pig, who squeaks in surprise and takes off in the opposite direction.

Jimin plops down on the couch in exhaustion.

“At least dinner can no longer be used as an excuse?”

“I guess.” Taehyung reaches up to wipe at his forehead. “We’re still getting our asses beat but it’ll be worth it. What else can go wrong?”

Apparently everything else can.

This is a bad idea, you repeat to yourself each time you down a shot, every single one a different colour of the rainbow, and every single time you slam the empty glass on the bar counter, a chorus of cheers erupt around you.

To be fair, it’s not as if you wanted to come, but Jungkook promised to pay for two weeks’ worth of lunches and you can never say no to free food. Not to mention Jimin repeatedly whined about how he wanted to get so drunk he forgets the burning sock saga. Which is what brought the four of you to Trick Shots, the new bar that opened ten minutes away from your apartment.

“I can’t believe you made alcohol your go-to coping mechanism,” Taehyung laughs, slapping Jimin on the back.

The smaller man swats his hand away, turning to Jungkook with reddened cheeks and crescent moon eyes. “This is why I only love you,” he sings, cupping the younger man’s cheeks and squishing them, before whisking him away from the counter and you assume, the dance floor.

You shut your eyes to get away from the coloured lights flashing every second, leaving you feeling not only disoriented, but also contributing to the dizzying headache that came with the endless shots of alcohol.

“Here.” A hand on your shoulder gently shakes you. “Drink some water. You look like you need it.”

With an eye half open to slowly get used to the obnoxiously glaring neon lights, you thank Taehyung with a smile and a raise of your glass before downing it like someone who hasn’t had a sip of water in days.

As you slowly begin to sober up, you glance around the bar in search of Jimin and Jungkook, slightly panicking when they are nowhere to be found. That is, until you hear a familiar screech from the other side of the room, and you whip your head around to spot a wobbly Jimin on one of the pool tables with an incredibly frustrated Jungkook helplessly grabbing at his sleeves to get him to come down.

Your eyes widen and you slide the now empty glass you were holding across the counter, muttering a quick thank you to the bartender before pushing past the crowd in order to save your best friends from any more trouble – also to prevent severe second hand embarrassment on your end.

With a speed you never knew you possessed, you reach the pool table in no time, of which a small crowd has started to form around it. Random requests are shouted at an intoxicated Jimin, who is now body rolling to a remixed song you can’t remember the title of, and you can see the visible plea for help in Jungkook’s eyes as he gets pushed against the side of the table by everyone else.

“Alright! Show’s over!” You squeeze through the gaps between sticky and relentless human beings, climbing onto the pool table and grabbing Jimin by the collar of his shirt.

He giggles and a stream of unidentified words leave his mouth but you smack him on the back of his head, voice taking on a murderous tone, “One more word from you and I will personally toss you into a pit of flames and then you will disintegrate into ashes, you hear me?”

You tug him down towards Taehyung and Jungkook, both looking stressed beyond belief. Everything goes perfectly fine until Jimin steps into one of the holes at the corner of the pool table and falls forward, sending him flying straight into the two men.

Jungkook grabs him by the waist just in time to prevent him from falling right onto the floor but he stumbles backwards due to the impact and bumps into a neighbouring table. You watch as beer gets spilled onto a group of men and if you thought it was chaotic before, this whole new situation makes you want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive.

“What the fuck!” One of them slams his hand on the table, the growling face of a tattooed tiger head staring right at you, and before you can even try to make amends, the man punches Jungkook across the face.

He crashes to the floor with Jimin being additional weight, and the latter starts to yell at the man. “You fucking – ngh – buffoon! How dare you!”

You rush forward and wedge yourself between them, Taehyung pulling your two other friends to their feet. Apology after apology tumbles out of your mouth and you nudge Jungkook once he gains his footing, using your head to gesture at an unplanned escape route.

“Sorry,’ you nervously glance around the table, “kind gentlemen! I’m sure you’re all very nice people, but my friend here is both drunk and extremely stupid because we all collectively share one brain cell so please accept my sincere apologies and spare us from your wrath?” The last part of your sentence comes out as a question, the whole thing rushed out in one breath.

The man snarls and you squeak out a quick ‘bye’ before scrambling away from the table, anxiously pushing all of your friends away from it. You vaguely register the angry shouts behind you over the ridiculously loud music but you steer your friends into the direction of what looks like a narrow hallway.

A neon pink toilet sign hammered into a wall catches your attention and you don’t even bother to check which one you’re going into before you’re running into the safety of the bathroom.

When you successfully slip inside, you turn to close the door after your friends only to realise that they’re nowhere to be found. You’re just about to head out to look for them until the voices of the men after the four of you increase in volume, sounding like they’re just around the corner.

Immediately slamming the bathroom door shut, you spin around before an unidentifiable noise of surprise tears from your throat and you slap a hand across your mouth to silence it.

The bathroom is empty save for the man standing in front of you, donning a loose, midnight dress shirt half tucked into a pair of jeans ripped at the knees. If this was any other situation and you were as intoxicated as before, you’d be making mental notes of how his collar bones peak out from behind the almost sheer fabric and how soft his hair looks, but you are an escapee about to be slaughtered by angry men.

A muffled shout to check the bathroom immediately snaps you back to reality and a stream of muttered apologies leave your mouth as you dart into the only empty stall. You barely get the door shut and you’re still fumbling with the lock when the door to the bathroom swings open, revealing the worst of the lot; tiger tattoo guy.

“Did you see anyone come in?” He gruffly asks, and you’re clambering onto the toilet seat with your heart pounding against your chest at an alarming rate.

There’s a slight crack in the door due to your previous failure to lock it and you have your head in your hands when Hot Stranger you caught mid-piss responds.

“I just came in so I wouldn’t know.”

You physically give yourself a good pinch when you find yourself thinking about how nice his voice sounds.

“Fucking twats ruined my night. I’ll be damned if I let them leave unscathed.”

A part of you tells yourself that the best thing to do now is to attempt to shut the door even though it might risk catching Tiger Guy’s attention, but the fearful part of you keeps you squatting on the toilet seat mouthing prayers to yourself.

“I’ll leave you to it, man. Sounds rough.” Hot Stranger clears his throat. “You can check the bathroom stalls if you want, I need to take a shit.”

You’re angrily deducting points from your imaginary scoreboard when the door to your cubicle opens slightly, and then Hot Stranger slips in. He turns to lock the door and puts a finger to his lips before shuffling closer to you.

The creaking coming from the cubicle next to yours signalling the opening of its door and Tiger Guy grunting in acknowledgement keeps the both of you silent for a short while. You think about shooting him a thumbs up but decide against it, nervously running a hand through your hair instead.

“You know, this is the men’s bathroom,” Hot Stranger whispers, lips pulling into a mind-blowingly attractive smile as he shuffles closer to you.

With a roll of your eyes, you whisper back, “I am aware. Thank you for your pointless input, Hot Stranger.”

This earns you a raise of his brow and he tilts his head to the side in interest. You watch as his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he’s leaning in close to you.

“Giving pet names to someone you just met… Interesting.” He fingers the collar of his shirt, and you purposefully look down to stare at your shoes in an attempt to not think about how perfect his hands are and how they would feel on you.

“Then what the fuck am I supposed to call you, oh kind sir,” you snap back as best as you can in a whispered voice, hoping you look a lot more menacing than you actually sound.

His eyes light up in amusement. “Got quite a mouth on you, huh.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you respond, a hint of a smile threatening to pull at your lips.

There’s a few seconds of the both of you just staring at each other. You’re trying to keep up the unwavering gaze but your eyes betray you and they flicker down to his lips. He seems to notice that, and takes another step into your space, shaking his head in faux disapproval.

It’s when he tucks a stray hair behind your ear and you unconsciously lean into his touch that you hear a familiar voice calling out your name in the bathroom.

“Y/N? Are you here?” Jimin’s voice is easily recognisable.

A throat clears and Hot Stranger steps aside so you can hop down from the toilet seat.

You cautiously swing the door open. “Hey Chim, glad to see that you’re… Alive.”

“Christ, I’m glad you’re not dead. I almost- Who’s that?”

Shoes scuffle against the floor and you’re about to answer with ‘hot stranger’ when the man in question shrugs and goes, “Yoongi.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow in suspicion before they widen to the size of saucers.

“Did you seriously get some in this… This dingy toilet in a shady bar? I thought you had standards! Not that this,” he gestures at Yoongi, “guy isn’t hot but what the fuck? We almost died and you went to hop on a dick?”

The only reason why you took so long to cut Jimin off is because your mind is a constant repeat of the name you just learnt. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi, playing like a broken record in your head.

“Chim, for God’s sake. He saved my ass from that demonic, tiger tattoo bearing, meathead.” You settle for that explanation, mind still reeling from the events that happened just minutes ago. “That you are to blame for, by the way. Now that you’re sober, I hope you’re ready for the ass whooping of a lifetime.”

“Kinky,” Yoongi chuckles next to you.

You feel heat rise up to your cheeks and ears at his close proximity and immediately step away so you can formulate a proper sentence.

“Thanks for helping me out back there, I really owe you one,” you tell him, hands smoothing down the sides of your shorts. A nervous habit.

He hums in acknowledgement and moves to exit the bathroom, but not before patting the top of your head and ruffling your hair. “Guess this is a debt you’ll have to repay someday.”

Jimin elbows you when you just stand there, frozen in place, so you recover as best as you can and try to emulate the face of a confident individual who did not just reach a whole new level of embarrassment in front of a ridiculously attractive man.

“We’ll see.” You give him a playful salute. “Thanks again, Yoongi.”

He’s one foot out of the door when he turns back, gummy smile back on that beautiful, beautiful face.

“The pleasure is mine, sweetheart.”

[togreblog]

Part 3

Nessian AU

So these chapters are getting longer, I was aiming for around 1000 words, but I keep being like oooh, I’ll include this before I stop.

Also, Nesta is becoming more and more introverted with each chapter, because I had a discussion with someone (sorry, I can’t remember who) about how she is indeed introverted and it stuck with me.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Word Count; 1411

She had made it to the kitchen and had been about to get herself a drink from the fridge when she had been distracted by the numerous little bowls that were lined up across the back of the kitchen counter. It seemed that Cassian was actually quite an organised cook and had prepped each of the ingredients beforehand. She tried to picture the Cassian that she had seen around school, in the kitchen and the image that came to mind was not what she saw before her. The picture she came up with had a lot more mess.

She finally remembered what she had come into the kitchen to get and turned away from the bowls, only to come face to face, or as close to that as they could be with their considerable height difference, with Cassian. He was blocking her path to the fridge.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was getting myself a drink.”

“We just went over this Nesta, I’m cooking, so what do you want?” His self-assured tone, the dominance that radiated from him. Stubbornness took root in the pit of her stomach, defiance rose in her throat. She hesitated, willing a smart comment, some witty retort to come to her, it took her a minute longer than she would have liked.

“Well, if you’re going to try and cook my drink I’d rather you just let me get to my own god-dammed fridge so I can get my own, thank you.” When the response finally came to her, it was dripping with sarcasm. She managed to hide her satisfaction at coming up with the reply, schooling her features into a questioning look, trying to challenge him the way he challenged her. He just kept studying her face. He just stood there, watching her. Deciding that this conversation was clearly over, she now tried to breeze passed him. He stepped in her way. Although he was her junior by a few years, he had a much larger and wider set frame, lined with corded muscles, built from years of training. So, she instead turned and tried to appeal to her sister, sat cuddled in Rhys’ arms. The two of them lying across the sofa, taking up the entire thing, regardless of the other five people who had been gathered around them; Mor, Azriel, Amren, Cassian and Elain.

“Feyre, tell your friend, to move. It’s my kitchen, it’s not his place.”

Rhys responded instead, which just made Nesta ever so much angrier. She had addressed her sister, he had no right to speak for Feyre, especially not when the matter regarded people overstepping in her home anyway.

“Nesta, Cassian always cooks, that’s the way it is. Let him make you a drink. Let him make us all dinner. Trust me his food makes dealing with him worth it.”

“He’s right, now if you want to cook, then I’ll just go sit back down. I bought ingredients for Affogato al Caffe for dessert.”

“You’re playing with fire, girl. Do not cost me Cassian’s New Year’s Eve dinner.” Amren spoke up for once. Amren praised Cassian. This dinner must be particularly good if Amren was willing to compliment Cassian. She knew that he wouldn’t deprive his friends of the dinner. Doubted that he would withhold it from her either, but she still didn’t want to risk it.

“Fine,” as much as she wanted to test his abilities, to try and show him up, she didn’t actually want a fancy cocktail, she’d gone off them after making a couple thousand working at a cocktail bar throughout college. “Vodka and coke.”

She turned and went and sat on one of the bar stools, right back where she had been an hour and a half ago when Cassian had waltzed his way into the kitchen. She was about to start telling him where the glasses and vodka were kept, but he had already made his way around the kitchen efficiently fetching them. He began pouring the vodka and when he stopped, she surveyed the quantity and coughed once, nodding towards the cup. He added the smallest splash more, earning him a raised brow from Nesta, which he ignored as he topped up the glass with coke and set it in front of her. He put everything away and braced his arms against the counter, looking around for something else to do, something to keep him in the kitchen, but as she had observed when she first entered the kitchen, it was immaculate. Nesta tried very hard not to look at him, not to meet his gaze and ended up staring very intently at her drink.

“So umm, food? Are you hungry?” Finally, Cassian broke the tension.

“Yes, I was about to start cooking when you came in, remember.”

“Oh yeah, I should probably make the starters now anyway…?” He was clearly trying to get her to invite him to stay in the kitchen. Was he nervous…? No, of course, he wasn’t. Nothing made Cassian nervous Nesta reminded herself. When he didn’t move from where he was stood facing her across the island, Nesta gave an exaggerated nod to him to start cooking. He seemed to wake from his thoughts and turned to the surface behind him, where the pre-prepared ingredients were.

As much as she had been avoiding conversation with him, Nesta now found that silently watching him move around the kitchen was a little awkward. “So, what are you actually making?”

“For which course?”

Maybe the alcohol was getting to her or maybe he had actually said it in all seriousness, she decided that he must have been serious. Nesta could hold her drinks, an annoying fact that meant she had to drink near stomach pump levels of alcohol to feel drunk. However, it also served Nesta well in bars and at parties where she enjoyed challenging cocky guys to drinking contests and watching them sway on their feet as they inevitably stumble out onto the street at the end of the night. Nesta was definitely still sober enough to be sure that she had identified Cassian’s serious tone correctly.

“How many are there?”

“Six.” He glanced over his shoulder at her briefly before turning back to what he was making. If he had taken the time to watch for her reaction, then two things would have occurred. Firstly, he would have burnt the Mediterranean vegetable he was sautéing in the pan in front of him, but secondly, he would have seen the look of shock as Nesta took in Cassian’s answer and the following look of confusion as she tried to remember what each of the courses were that added up to a 6 course meal. Her parents had once held 6-course dinner parties, but Nesta never enjoyed them or paid enough attention to them to allow her to recall what they entailed. Furthermore, Nesta hadn’t attended one since they had lost their fortune, what felt like many years ago. Cassian noticed Nesta’s silence. “Starters; Appetizer and soup, then a palate cleanser, then main meal. Followed by dessert and a cheese plate. The starter is almost ready, I just need to plate up.”

And with that, he ushered Nesta to the sofa, displacing Feyre and Rhys ‘you need to sit up we’re about to eat anyway’ and replaced the drink in her hand with a glass of wine that he had brought to compliment the first course. Since she didn’t have a formal dining room table and it was too cold to sit out on the patio and there were too many of them to eat around the island, they were going to have to eat around the coffee table. Sat facing the coffee table, Nesta couldn’t see what Cassian was doing in the kitchen. So when the perfectly plated and beautifully aromatic starter was placed in front of her, she couldn’t hide the shock on her face.

She couldn’t see Cassian’s face as he leaned over her shoulder from behind the sofa as he headed back towards the kitchen, but she could hear his smirk. “It’s a Mediterranean inspired bruschetta, enjoy.” She ignored him and took her first bite, everyone else was already tucking in, so only he heard her when she let out a groan of pleasure at the first taste of his food. He walked back to the kitchen to grab his own plate, but she knew he had heard, she had made sure he heard.

Next Part

@nobah123 @aelinashgalathynius @acotar-feels

[easyfoodnetwork]

From Takis to Duvalín to Pelon Pelo Rico, Mexican snacks are spicy, sweet, sour — and well worth seeking out Mexicans have a vibrant snack culture rooted in the essential flavors of the chucheria: lime, salt, caramel, chamoy, tamarind, and chile. For Chicanos like me, the snacks that were part of our family gatherings and trips to Mexico have always been easy to find in neighborhood abarrotes, liquor stores, and supermarkets, keeping us connected to Mexican flavors and culture. The only privation we have these days is when one of our beloved brands goes mainstream and becomes easier to find in Ralph’s than at our mercaditos — I’m talking to you, Topo Chico. During the pandemic especially, I’ve relied on my nearby Oaxacan tienditas and regional Mexican supermarkets to stock up on my favorite spicy, sour, and salty treats. Below is a brief taste tour through the Mexican snacks that should fill your pantry to add more spice to your snack time. Note that where I am in Los Angeles, Mexican snacks are ever-present, pero no hay pedo (but no worries): If you don’t live near a Mexican enclave, you can find any of these online. Gansitos Gansitos This is the gold standard of Mexican snack cakes, consisting of an irresistible filling of strawberry jelly and cream atop an airy cake with notes of coconut, covered in chocolate and topped with chocolate sprinkles. Marinela, a division of world’s largest baking company, Grupo Bimbo, created Gansitos in 1957, and the treat counts generations of fans in Mexico and Mexican-American communities. If you want to eat these without getting trolled by your Mexican friends, be sure to put them in the fridge, because Gansitos congelados (cooled) are even better. Banderillas When you pick up a 50-piece container of these tamarind- or chamoy-flavored chile-dipped straws, no one knows if you’re having a kid’s birthday party or selling micheladas in your backyard in East LA. You can easily snack on the spicy fruit pulp that surrounds the plastic straw, or place the treat into your Chicanofied michelada like a Mexican-American bartender. Takis Takis Do you know anyone who hasn’t tried Takis? These highly popular rolled chips come in a variety of spicy flavors and can be found at any convenience store, but if you want to go to Takis heaven, head to a Mexican supermarket like California-based chains Northgate Gonzalez or Vallarta. There, you’ll find the better-known Fuego, Original, and Nitro Takis flavors, as well as more than a dozen others, including Titan, Crunchy Fajita, and cucumber, lime, and habanero-flavored Zombie. Cacahuates Japones Many Mexicans might not know the story of Japanese immigrant Yoshigei Nakatani, who came up with the now-ubiquitous cracker nuts (peanuts in a crunchy, wheat-flour dough shell with sweet endnotes). But any convenience store, market, or truck stop is likely to have Mexico’s favorite nut, which is also an ingredient in tostilocos, a Mexican street snack usually prepared inside a slit-open bag of Tostitos along with cueritos (pickled pork rinds), chamoy, sliced cucumbers, lime juice, jícama, and hot sauce. Like many Mexican snacks, you can also serve cacahuates Japones in a bowl with a squeeze of lime and generous streaks of hot sauce, or you can buy them coated in chile or chile and lime. Duvalín Duvalín Sometimes an international favorite may seem like an odd choice to an outsider, like Duvalín, a dual-flavored, sticky pudding that comes with a tiny spoon used to dig into combinations like hazelnut and vanilla, hazelnut and strawberry, and strawberry and vanilla. Like Americans who grew up with Jell-O pudding, Mexicans learned to love their more petite-portioned Duvalin for its “bi sabor” (two flavors) tagline, and now the brand has added packages with three and even four different pudding flavors. Maruchan Mexicans don’t want regional ramen made from shoyu, miso, shio, or tonkotsu base flavors — we want Maruchan instant ramen with lots of Tapatio and a squirt of lime. The Toyo Suisan company entered the Mexican market in the ’80s, coinciding with the arrival of microwave ovens, the preferred cooking device of instant ramen fans. Today you’ll find Maruchan sold at fondas, street stands, and comidas economicas south of the border; in the U.S., it’s in birriamen at Mexican food trucks and street stands and is the preferred brand for Mexican seafood trucks making seafood ramen. Mexicans eat so much Maruchan that hot sauce company Tapatío has entered the instant ramen market to capitalize on the growing trend among millennial Mexicans and Mexican Americans who are mixing their ramen with traditional Mexican dishes. Pelon Pelo Rico Pelon Pelo Rico These are like Push Pops filled with tamarind paste. They come in a variety of flavors, including original tamarind, watermelon, and sour lime, and with just enough citrus and spice to make this candy the gateway to micheladas. To get your fix and put some hair on Pelon, the candy’s bald mascot, just hold on to the plastic wings and press down. Vero Mango When there’s no Mexican fruit stand nearby, Vero Mango is the next best thing: a mango-flavored lollipop, adorably shaped like a tiny mango covered in chile powder. A candy that reflects Mexican street culture and features one of the most requested fruits should be on your shopping list at the abarrotes. Like a cup of prepared mango with lime, chile, and Tajín, it’s the perfect Sunday afternoon treat. Marias There are many Marias-style cookies, the round, embossed tea biscuits sweetened with brown sugar and first produced in England, but Mexicans prefer Gamesa, which has been around for almost 100 years. There’s no tea time in Mexico, so Marias are dunked in coffee or Mexican hot chocolate, and used in making desserts, including flan. Marias is even a favorite ice cream flavor in Mexican ice cream shops. Lucas Muecas Chamoy Lucas Muecas Chamoy If you want to teach your kids to expand their palates to include chile, try chamoy, a dehydrated fruit salsa that’s sweet, spicy, and sour, used on fresh fruit, ice cream, snacks, micheladas, and the Mexican seafood dishes of northern Sinaloa. Here, it’s in the form of a lollipop with an accompanying chile powder dip. Consider it training wheels for the flavors of Mexico. Sabritones Sabritones, airy chicharrones de harina (wheat cracklings) with lime and salt, are possibly the biggest name in Mexico’s puffed-wheat snack genre. The Sabritas brand, now owned by Frito-Lay, has been around since the 1940s in Mexico, where the company once delivered chips and other snacks on bicycles, slowly winning over the hearts and stomachs of generations of Mexicans. Duritos These wagon wheels are one of the most popular puffed wheat snacks sold at street snack carts, raspados carts, and even at cantinas, or centros botaneros. There is a recipe that one must follow to honor this bar bite classic: fill a bowl with duritos then add a squirt of lime and an even coating of salsa Valentina. If it’s good enough for likely half the cantinas in Mexico, it’s good enough for your Netflix party. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2FLd4be

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-ultimate-guide-to-mexican-snacks.html

[dearrachell-blog]

Madrid, Spain

01/28-02/01

My stay in Madrid flew by to say the least, and it’s crazy to fathom how quickly I fell in love with the city especially in such short duration. The first night Katie, Val and I arrived several hours earlier than the rest of our group, so we checked into our Airbnb and found a nice, authentic restaurant to eat at. My rice dish tasted so good, I will definitely be missing rice throughout my stay as I don’t have a cooker here in Vienna and Asian white rice can rarely if even be found. At dinner, the employees sang feliz cumpleaños to one of their coworkers, and their loving, family-like interactions made my heart happy. Finished dinner off with complimentary palate-cleansing warm green juice shots that were so yummy! 

The next day was jam packed as our entire group woke up early to make the most of our precious time there. Breakfast at Pum Pum Cafe was so nice- would highly recommend the coffee, avocado toast, benedict, and desserts there! We trekked over 25,000 steps this day just walking through the entire city. A few destinations we stopped by were Plaza Mayor, the Royal Palace, Jardines de Sabatini, Mercado de San Miguel, and the Temple of Debod to watch the beautiful sunset. It was incredible to see these sights before my own eyes as I had only seen them through photos and snapchat videos before. Everything seemed to come to life and I fell silent during some parts of the day just in awe of my surroundings. At nighttime, while the rest of my group went to El Tigre, I decided to meet up with one of my friends from home. It was so nice being able to talk openly with Christine and not feel like I had to invent forced conversation every time I opened my mouth. It’s comforting to acknowledge that we’re in similar situations, social-wise, and I’m gradually accepting the fact that it’s alright if I don’t make lifelong friends while I’m here, granted I’ve only met half of our Vienna program thus far. What’s most important is that I make the most of my experience and accomplish all of the things that I want to do while abroad. I’m going to grow very comfortable spending time by myself this semester, and that is perfect okay. Anyways, together we walked around Centro and indulged in delicious gelato from Mistura and churros from Chocolatería San Gines. Will definitely revisit those places later on.

Our second full day in Madrid was also an adventure as we checked off Puerta Del Sol and row-boating through Buen Retiro Park. Having the liberty to go wherever whenever with no rigid agenda has been refreshing and I’m happy to have shared these moments with my new semi-friends. We’re getting there. One of my favorite activities while visiting a new location is just sight-seeting and walking into random stores and sparking conversations with strangers. There doesn’t have to be an exact activity involved, the exploration is enough. For breakfast we ate at La Libre and for lunch, TAKOS, both of which were well worth the wait! In the evening was our much awaited Tapas Crawl!!! Our tour guide, Raúl, was a blast and we were joined by another couple on their honeymoon. I learned that there are more than 2,000 beer taps just within Madrid, and I also learned how to properly test for good red wine. I looked at our second glass of red wine in front of a white napkin, and smelled the aroma of berries, chocolate, leather, nuts, and “bullshit” according to Val hahaha. After 3.5 hours and 5 stops of engorging in authentic tapas and wine, I felt utterly stuffed. My favorite dish would probably have to be the pork belly from our second stop. Ended the crawl with a nice buzz and full stomach. Following this, I wish we would have gone home to settle down and get ready, but we immediately went straight out to Dubliners, where I met up with Cho and Murph (brothers abroad!!!), and then to StarCoyote. I have to admit I was feeling a bit awkward because I didn’t know as many people as the others did I wasn’t dressed for the occasion. The fact that my roommate was much more drunk than I was and trampling all over me was also highkey annoying. The night ended with me and Madeleine sitting on the sidewalk partially sober waiting for our uber home while the others very drunkenly clambered into the first car. It was a memorable night without a doubt and I did meet a few new friends along the way, but I’m starting to recognize who I want to grow closer with and who I am ambivalent about. 

The next morning was sloooow as my Airbnb mates woke up in random intervals, many of whom were hungover messes. But I spent the morning in getting ready and getting my things together as a few others went out to breakfast. I needed the extra hour to spend organizing myself. Half the group left to fly to Seville and the rest of us grabbed lunch and checked into our hostel for the night. I learned that Menu Del Día is not a restaurant, but actually is a deal that various restaurants offer for 11 euro hahaha the more you know! But regardless, the cheese and paella that we shared for lunch that day was so tasty. I took my first siesta later that day after checking into our hostel. While Katie and Val went out to hang out around Centro, I happily hung out with Christine again!! Grabbed Walk to Wok because we were craving Asian food, tracked down the oldest restaurant in the world founded in 1725, Sobrino de Botín, and went shopping along Gran Vía. It felt so comfortable being around genuine company and I litttterally cannot wait until we travel together in the near future.

Note to self: Go to airports early even though in Europe, the check-in and security process isn’t as long as they are in the US. The morning was semi-stressful because we totally disregarded traffic and thought we were going to miss our flight back home to Vienna. But luckily we made it just in time woohoo. Another observation, 3 of the 4 ubers that we took during our stay were Teslas like what the heck bougie!! Apparently the cars aren’t the owners, but are provided by the company. 

There’s so much about Spain that intrigues me. The lifestyle there seems slower paced and the lifestyle surprisingly reminds me of that in Taipei where the convenience of walking everywhere and accessing little stores is evident. At the same time, there is so much preserved culture to be reminisced and explored. I’m unsure if I’m so excited because this was my first abroad trip to a different country, but I definitely plan on revisiting Madrid to tour its other features, from renowned museums to rooftop bars to other areas of the city. Maybe I should have chosen Madrid as my first rather than second choice of host country. But who knows, SEE YOU AGAIN ESPAÑA.

[typetwofun]

How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Quarantine

“I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”

That’s a quote from Steve Jobs that I have always particularly liked. I think the reason that I enjoy it so much is that it suggests that if life isn’t going the way you want, you have some degree of control to change it more to your liking. The first place my head goes when I hear that quote is work. We spend a lot of our waking hours either at work or thinking about work, so that has a lot to do with how much we enjoy each day. But on the other side of the coin, if your life is only focused on work, you’re also probably not going to be entirely thrilled if you found out today was your last day on earth.

During pre-quarantine life, if you weren't excited about your day of work ahead, you were at least able to look forward to trying that new restaurant that evening or meeting a good friend for a drink at your favorite bar or maybe just grabbing a cup of coffee at the cafe where they know your usual as you head into the office. It doesn’t have to be an opulent treat either. My good friend Austin and I used to visit our favorite neighborhood bar every Tuesday and that alone kept every Tuesday exciting.

In mid-March when most of the U.S. started shutting down many of us were hit with an existential crises. The weekly rituals, office culture, hobbies and social events that made our daily lives more enjoyable and interesting evaporated right in front of our eyes. Your Tuesday evening visit to the local watering hole, your friends and colleagues at work, or your runners club before work on Thursday all the sudden isn’t there and you now have a vacuum of time that needs to be filled.

When I realized that I now had an abundance of our most precious commodity, I had an opportunity to start doing some of the things that I had been putting off for months and in some cases years. This blog is a great example of something I had always thought would be a good idea, but I never made the time for it. Now I have several additional hours each evening making now the perfect time to start this project. Everyone has the books they’ve been meaning to read or the dishes they would like to cook but never do because your schedule’s too packed. But now things are different, I mean who’s not making sourdough bread right now?

I have found the key to finding joy during this quarantine is to fill the newly found time each day with something I truly enjoy. Although I never sat down and wrote a comprehensive list, I had a number of ideas floating around in my head on what I would do if I had more time in my day. Writing a blog was one, spending more time working on my motorcycle was another, read more is up there and the list goes on. As I started doing the things I didn’t have the time to pre quarantine, I also stumbled upon other activities I never really thought I would enjoy but serendipitously found to be my favorite part of the day. See below.

What I had floating around in my head but didn’t make the time for:

Write for pleasure - I started this blog with a goal of writing 1 post per month with the goal of improving my writing. This post makes me two for two so far ;-)

Grow a vegetable garden - I now have a space with a raised garden bed to plant some vegetables and flowers. I did a small garden two years ago, but last year I was training for a triathlon and didn’t have the time to tend to a garden, now I have plenty.

Saturday’s in the garage - I have spent several hours just about every Saturday in the garage finishing a big repair job and doing preseason maintenance. I can happily report after a complete top end rebuild my bike is running and ready for the season ahead.

Read more broadly - In quarantine I have read books spanning the History of NYC, Ski Touring in the North East, No Country for Old Men, and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Open to suggestions on what to read next.

Run - I have been suffering from plantar fasciitis for almost six months, but after using insoles, a bunch of weird stretches, and yoga before work a few times a week and after long runs I’m back running twice per week.

Activities I didn’t anticipate picking up in quarantine:

Discovering New TV Shows -  Cody Townsend's The Fifty , the Last Dance, and Working For the Weekend - I watched 1 or 2 episodes per day to elongate the enjoyment from each series.

Expanding my cocktail palate - 5p has become cocktail hour in our apartment. When I’ve had my third consecutive Zoom meeting of the afternoon, it’s a nice reward for finishing out the workday. I’ve been trying new cocktails and variations of cocktails I may have not previously enjoyed in an effort to keep it interesting. For instance, I never knew I liked Negornis before I discovered their secret ingredient - carpano antica.

I have also really enjoyed the Scofflaw (pictured below) and Whiskey Sours.

Even though I have found a lot of reasons to enjoy the past ten weeks in quarantine, I cannot wait to go back to the way life was before this virus dominated nearly every aspect of my waking hours. Non-stop video conferences and digital communication at work followed by zoom and phone call with friends in the evening can really wear me down. Even the cognitive load that comes along with every precaution we take to avoid getting infected seems to be taking its toll.

I also realize that I am incredibly privileged in several ways. I am employed, working from home, and quite busy at work which not only supplies adequate funds to stay comfortable during the quarantine but also means I don’t have to go out into the uncertain world every day. I know many of us are either out of work or must risk exposure to the virus which must also be incredibly stressful. Some people may also be quarantined in isolation which sounds borderline tortuous for more than a couple of days.  And most of all, the first responders who are put into harm's way every day they show up to work, I have a tremendous amount of respect for you and our society is in a great debt for your service.

Even though the past couple of months have been tough for everyone and it doesn’t appear that we’re going to live in a world where the virus is contained any time soon, we don’t have much of a choice other than to find a way to make the most of it. The philosopher Epictetus once said, “The chief task in life is simply this: to identify and separate matters so that I can say clearly to myself which are externals not under my control, and which have to do with the choices I actually control.” So, while we can’t control our state’s position on opening back up or how many new cases are reported in our city, we can certainly take advantage of newfound time that we have to ourselves. You have been gifted life’s most precious commodity, what are you going to do with it?

I guess what I’m trying to say is, when life hands you lemons you should make a cocktail.

[daveywankenobie]

So the weekend has ended – and it’s already Tuesday. Boy oh boy are they moving at light speed again now I’m gainfully employed.

If you blink then you miss them!

However they probably pass by at such a frantic pace because I’m doing all I can to make absolutely sure that they’re crammed with fun things – which in my case usually means spending time with people I care about and doing lots of exercise.

Saturday was just such a day – and after taking my now customary kick in the man globes at Slimming World (where for no good reason this week I put on not one but two pounds) we headed out to a local hotel for a wonderful afternoon and evening celebrating the 50th birthday of a good friend.

We’ve known eachother for literally decades now and I’m proud to say that he’s a mate.

This isn’t just because we share some of the same interests (we do – check out his flipping awesome cake in the above pic) but because he’s a genuinely solid and dependable guy with a sound moral compass who’s also been with me (along with his wife) every step of the way as I crawled my way back to health over the last few years.

When I was incapable of climbing up a ladder to pull ivy off my wall and out of my guttering he brought his one round, clambered up it and did the job for me.

He did this not once – but many times – and it was made all the more poignant when I realised he doesn’t like heights.

It’s people like this that you have to look after your relationships with in life. They keep you grounded, remind you why it’s important to be a good person and demonstrate how it makes others feel when you reach out to help just because it’s the right thing to do.

Now I’m fitter I try to pitch in whenever I can to repay his favours – and I hope by now he knows that he can ask me for any kind of help and I’m there.

On Saturday though I was just enjoying his hospitality (plus maybe a little too much cake) and a lot of boogies to some great 70’s and 80’s music.

For the longest time as a teenager (and adult) I felt incapable of enjoying events like this (whoever they were for) without being completely smashed, and even when I was small enough (back in the early 90’s) to spend any length of time on the dance floor I had to have some form of lubricant flowing through my blood stream to make it happen.

These days I don’t care because I just dance and enjoy myself.

I imagine most onlookers simply wonder if I suffer with epilepsy or am a recovering stroke victim.

On the bright side if they do I’m sure the memories of my ‘special’ moves on the dancefloor will cause them to donate money to sympathetic charities when an appropriate collection box is placed under their noses.

I’m therefore doing my bit for good causes and equal opportunities whenever I step out and throw some shapes.

Rollicking about with gay abandon isn’t always a great idea though – and when I got into the car to drive home I realised that (whilst helping Angie to pack away the boxes of books and hifi bars at the end of my SW group) I’d managed to sprain my wrist.

I could barely change gear!

The pain (although very slow to arrive initially) appears to be persistent now – and for days now I’ve been unable to put weight on it or go swimming.

This morning (Tuesday) I gave the pool a go with very little success – and after a few painful lengths had to admit I couldn’t grip the side to turn, that each stroke hurt, and I could barely climb up the ladder to get out.

Looks like the only option is to keep going with the Ibuprofen gel and tiger balm (which my brother introduced me to in Starbucks on Sunday.)

It’s rather good, makes things all warm and tingly and takes your mind off the strain with it’s frankly delicious scent.

If my wrist doesn’t recover at least it’s delightful bouquet will make the task of chewing my lower arm off a little more palatable.

My brother’s taste in drinks does not appear to be quite so refined as his taste in embrocation however – and when we met at Starbucks he decided in the queue that he would try their new ‘Golden Honey Macchiato’.

Admittedly the picture on the board made it look great – however the reality was far grimmer, because not only was it a lurid dayglow yellow colour (it contains saffron) but it looked like someone had just sneezed on it when the (optional) honey was added.

Needless to say, after a few exploratory sips (by all around the table) a number of grimaces and a lot of funny faces later the rather sorry looking cup of yellow froth was left for the next occupant of the table to dispose of.

I hate waste but I’m not sorry I didn’t drink it.

Not only did it taste like ass but it was probably wasn’t very healthy as a dietary choice either.

Tellingly the Starbucks site has no nutritional information on it’s website about this drink (at least none that I can find) which leads me to believe that it’s not going to fall under the category of a Slimming World ‘healthy extra’.

My black coffee was precisely 2 kcal – yet this sugary monstrosity (or ‘crime against coffee’ as my sister in law called it) probably had a couple of hundred in it.

I’m going to have to be super careful this week too.

If I can’t swim my usual distance my food intake has to be lower and that’s a problem because I’m used to a certain portion size (namely large).

I’ve never had to stop at 250m before and it really peeved me when I was forced to get out of the pool early.

On the plus side it cheered me up to see my partner in crime continue to power back and forth in the lanes working on her own milestones.

Yesterday she even got out of bed and went to swim on her own!

This may not seem strange to those that don’t know her, but there’s a massive change in the mornings now that she’s really getting into her swimming – and frankly I’m saving a fortune on dynamite because I no longer have to leave a lit stick under her pillow to propel her upright as I creep off to the loo.

She’s bounding out of bed at the moment like a Labrador puppy chasing 20 tennis balls.

Her swimming (since she started putting her head under water during breaststroke) has improved in LEAPS AND BOUNDS and she’s almost as fast as I am now.

The only thing that’s different that I can see is that she’s slightly slower on the turns – but her stamina is fabulous and bit by bit she’s catching up.

This morning we appeared to be neck and neck and it just goes to show that if you put your mind to something you can achieve great things.

Together.

You can also achieve great things together.

Sure – there’s nothing that either of us couldn’t achieve alone, and I’d be swimming whether we’d met eachother or not.

I’d have probably also found a way of sorting out the ivy on my back wall when I was bigger – but then there’s the absolute joy of human relationships that makes everything in life better.

We’re not meant to be separated from friends or partners – and the natural predisposition of a successful human is to be around other like minded humans. It works with Slimming World and it works with life.

Anyway – time to walk to work. It’s not good to be late!!!

Davey

Boogie nights and tiger balm So the weekend has ended - and it's already Tuesday. Boy oh boy are they moving at light speed again now I'm gainfully employed.

[2traveldads-blog]

Most random place I’ve visited in a long while:  Mobile, Alabama.  When I first found out that I got to go I was neutral in my excitement.  And then I started researching; and then I got there; and then I fell in love.  Mobile, Alabama’s theme for the city is “Born to Celebrate” and really, that’s the vibe everywhere and I love it.

Being the birthplace of Mardi Gras in the South and founded by one of the brothers who also founded New Orleans, it’s already in position to be cool.  You don’t hear a lot about Mobile as a destination or a party city, but it is.  It’s not a party city like Las Vegas or the Daytona Beach of the 90s, but it’s a place full of fun and pride.  And it’s delightfully gay which added to how welcome I felt and how much I loved Mobile, Alabama.  Anyways, here’s the scoop on Mobile and why I can’t wait to return with my whole family.

Locale of Mobile, Alabama

Mobile is at the very south of the Great State of Alabama on the Gulf of Mexico.  It’s located where five different rivers meet.  It’s surrounded by lush live oak forests and meandering waterways.  It’s a short drive to the beaches of the Gulf.  It’s a pocket of awesome in a place thought of as the Deep South.

Mobile has its own airport (MOB) and has two major interstates feeding into it.  You can arrive in Mobile, Alabama via cruise ship or private charter.  Basically, what’s stopping you from getting there and having an incredible time?

History of Mobile

It’s in Alabama.  That’s enough to make somebody who hasn’t been think about all they’ve heard, read or seen on TV about Alabama.  Just stop right there:  Mobile is completely different in nearly every way.  Yes, of course there are people who are stuck in the 1860s or the 1950s, but they’re not as common as you’d think.  Here are some interesting tidbits shared with me by Mobilians during my visit (but might not have factual backing):

Mobile was the first city in the south to elect an African-American mayor with a white majority vote.  

Mobile was the only major city in the South that didn’t have a civil rights march due to several very active public groups that worked to change local laws, including desegregating schools, prior to government mandate. They’ve had protests, but weren’t at the forefront of marches in the 60s.

Mobile has Gay Pride celebrations with lots of community involvement in addition to being involved in Mardi Gras activities.  

It’s the most progressive city I’ve been to south of the Mason-Dixon line.  Love it!

And Mobile, Alabama is an old city; it’s older than New Orleans.  Founded in 1702 Mobile has that same French influence you’ll see in NOLA, but it’s had it for longer.  And here’s a fun fact:  at one point Alabama was actually its own country (for a few days), and if you know where to look you can see references to it throughout Mobile.  And then there’s Mardi Gras… We’ll save that for last.

Top 5 things to do in Mobile, Alabama

Every city you’ll ever visit has a few super awesome things that will keep visitors coming back or talking about for a long time.  Mobile is for sure one of those places, but we’ll keep it short and sweet… like a beignet.

Exploring Mobile’s neighborhoods

Seattle, San Francisco, Portland… all three are great cities made of beautiful and fascinating neighborhoods.  And so is Mobile!!

Downtown Mobile

Downtown Mobile, Alabama is really nice.  The buildings aren’t too tall and there are countless sandwich and coffee shops giving it a quiet, small city feeling.   And downtown is right next to Dauphin Street, which is the main drag and is highly entertaining.  The people of Mobile have been exceptionally active in restoring their city since the 1960s so the whole area west of the financial district is charming, historic and full of fun.  At night, it’s lit up with twinkling lights, neon, marquees, glowing bar lights…. Strolling through downtown Mobile at night is a must.

Oakleigh Garden and DeTonti Square Historic Districts

Being such an old city, Mobile has some incredible residential neighborhoods including seven historic districts.  Just north of the downtown area is the DeTonti Square Historic District.  Some of the homes here are so old and ornate that they’ve each been under renovation for… well, forever.  Walking through the neighborhood you’ll find a combination of Gulf Cottages, Federal style and shotgun houses.  Each of the homes as it’s renovated is held to strict standard for color and outdoor features to keep the district as historically accurate as possible.  A homeowner can pop into the paint store in Mobile, say where they live, and leave with a color palate for the exterior of their house that is historically accurate and perfect.

Tip:  as you’re exploring the neighborhoods of Mobile, Alabama look at the historic markers and coats of arms on the restored houses.  You’ll learn all kinds of fun facts about the city and be able to impress all your friends when you bring them back!

Another beautiful neighborhood to wander through is the Oakleigh Garden Historic District.  Here, in addition to the beautiful and interesting homes, you’ll find some of the most impressive live oaks I’ve seen anywhere in the South.  And wandering the streets below the oaks and past the shotgun houses you’ll eventually get to the Church Street Graveyard.  It’s right by the old library so you can’t miss it.  This beautiful old cemetery has some of the oldest graves in Mobile, Alabama, including that of Joe Cain, the re-founder of Mardi Gras.

Photo tip:  photographing the live oak neighborhoods and cemeteries is best in the LATE afternoon.  The filtered light makes for interesting shots with much softer shadows.

The last neighborhood that I wanted to mention is the Church Street East Historic District.  This is actually where I stayed, at the Malaga Inn, and I loved it.  In the morning I could walk past wrought iron railings and find Mardi Gras beads in the bushes.  At night, there were gas lamps.  A few blocks away was Fort Conde and the Plaza for Mardi Gras events.  The historic charm is there along with bustling activity.  If you’re not staying in this neighborhood, as least pay it a visit.

Eat all of the deliciousness

Where to begin?!  Let’s just say that between blue crab legs and beignet sandwiches I was never hungry or bored with food. Here’s just a taste of what I found and no doubt anybody else could discover even more yum.  Here are three tasty beyond tasty ideas for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Wintzell’s Oyster House – anything with the tiny crab legs or the shrimp in ANY of their sauces and styles.  And their Oysters Monterey were my favorite.

Panini Pete’s – so the beignets are amazing and much more dense and, dare I say it, more delicious than other’s I’ve add throughout the South.  And they’ll make you a bacon and egg sandwich on a beignet!

Noble South – this is where I learned the Southern cooking isn’t all butter and butter.  Even though there were some beautiful meat dishes being served, my vegetarian collection of courses was an unforgettable surprise.  Especially the squash blossoms.  Perfect.

I had all kinds of other great food, but these three hot spots rang the bell for me.  Each was delicious and totally unique to dining I’d find anywhere in the Pacific Northwest.

Gab with EVERY local Mobilian you meet

OMG, you don’t even have to try to do this.  I met so many great people just walking around Mobile.  Some of my favorite characters included I got to talk to were actually the many different servers in the restaurants I ate at.  Ms Pinky at Wintzell’s Oyster House had a new phrase for how delicious each dish was.  The gentleman at the Mardi Gras museum had amazing stories about festivities through the years and strength and presence of the LGBT population of Mobile, Alabama.  One of the four different servers I had when dining alone at a sidewalk cafe didn’t want to talk about Mobile, but about my kids and all the weird things about being a parent.  

And then Spring, our breakfast server one day.  She was a delight.  We chatted about food and Mobile and Mardi Gras, and then art.  She’s an artist whose medium is beads.  How perfect for being a Mobilian from the birthplace of Mardi Gras.  

Tip:  take a look at Mardi Gras bead art. It has got to be my new favorite medium and motif.  So intricate and takes much more patience than I’ll ever have.

Someday when I’m bored and just want to gab, I’m going to book a plane ticket to Mobile and just go cafe hopping inviting random people to sit with me and drink iced tea.  Or sweet tea.

…and sometimes the locals will dress up with you…

Airboating in the Mobile Delta

We got to take the kids on a airboat ride through the mangroves of the Everglades and it was awesome!  Here is Mobile I had another opportunity to do an airboat ride and it was just as fun but totally different.

We headed just out of town to the Spanish Fort area where we met Captain Geoff.  In addition to being an airboat captain, he’s also a naturalist, so boom, sold. We had three really unique ecotours in Florida and doing the airboat with Captain Geoff was equally thoughtful and educational.  Between the care he showed in his boating and the knowledge he imparted with great intent, Airboat Express is definitely in the top ecotours I’ve been a part of (including some amazing ones in Montana and Alaska).

The highlight of the Mobile Delta airboat tour was definitely the wildlife.  There were all kinds of fascinating birds and really unique vegetation, but this was the first ecotour I’d done that took us past alligator dens and nurseries.  We saw some enormous gators, yes, but getting to see baby alligators swimming or crawling all over each other was a real treat.

Tip:  if you have kids with you for an airboat tour, be sure they have sunglasses.  This helps keep the wind out of their eyes and they’ll have a much more enjoyable experience.

MARDI GRAS EVERYTHING

As I’ve mentioned several times Mobile, Alabama is the birthplace of Mardi Gras.  The city really is born to celebrate like their motto says.  So, for starters, the Mardi Gras museum is pretty darn cool and interesting. And weird.  If you happened into it without any preface you might think you stumbled into the Inauguration Gown gallery at the Smithsonian…but full of drag costumes.  I’ve never seen such lavish regalia.  So much embroidery and beadwork.

And then there are the strands of beads.  Everywhere.  On my first night in Mobile I went for a walk and my eyes kept darting around to find beads in the trees and on lamp posts left over from the recent Mardi Gras celebrations.  I went on a tour driving around the many historic neighborhoods and sights and was given my own strand of Mardi Gras beads. They’re now sparkling somewhere in Mobile, reminding somebody else that there’s another celebration around the corner.

When you spend your time talking with the locals and gabbing it up with your server you’ll see that everything is related to Mardi Gras.  

“What have you got going on this weekend?” “Oh, I have a meeting with my mystic society.”  

“Oh, when did you do X, Y and Z?” “Well, it was just after Mardi Gras and…”

“Any big plans coming up?”  “I know that there’s a ball I am attending at Thanksgiving… It’s the start of Mardi Gras.”

Seriously, you can’t escape it and that’s just fine.  Seeing how excited and how dedicated each person is to EVERYTHING Mardi Gras is bizarre and inspiring.  It is a complete sense of community. Hopefully we’ll get to experience Mardi Gras in Mobile, Alabama in the next few years. It’ll be amazing.

So I know Mobile might not have been on your radar before today, but doesn’t it sound fantastic and aren’t you ready to plan a trip? I can’t wait to return with my family and have an awesome time making Mardi Gras memories and more.

Want to pin it for your own travel planning to Mobile or the South in general? Go for it!!!

Mobile, Alabama: top 5 ways to celebrate a surprising gem of a city Most random place I’ve visited in a long while:  Mobile, Alabama.  When I first found out that I got to go I was neutral in my excitement.  

[justtryingtwolive]

Hello

TW: self harm, ED

I know this is really long but it’s all worth it to understand me. I’m not great at talking about myself but here it goes... My name is Marina, I was recently diagnosed with fibromyalgia. This means that I am in a lot of pain most of the time, the issue with fibromyalgia is that there is no cause for the pain it just exists. To understand me and the causes you need to understand my life so...

As a young kid growing up I played outside a lot, spen the summers swimming in lakes and the winters figure skating. When I was 9 I started to train for competitive figure skating. At 10 took a year off to focus on dance and how to be more fluid with my movements. This year was amazing, I met so many new people, learned ballet, jazz, lyrical and tried hip hop. This was also the year I goined Girl Guides I had done Brownies a couple years before but that was my parrents choice. I had always wanted to move up to Guides but it conflicted with skating so I couldn’t. After the year was up I went back to skating. I had done a bit of training in my off year but not too much so I was a little rusty at first. It took me a couple weeks but I got back into it and was better than ever, but everyone else seemed to get skinnier and i got bigger. None of my old dresses fit nicely I needed all new skates, pants and tops. This was so embarrassing I had just taken a year off to get in better shape and I just ended up ballooning (or so I thought). This is when I started cutting back and selectively eating. I wouldn’t eat junk food, or eat after practice. I stopped having oatmeal and cereal for breakfast I instead had a frozen fruit smoothie. Lunch was easy because I just “forgot” my lunch at home, making sure I brought it once in a while to not seem suspicious. Dinner was hard to avoid, we had family dinner almost every night, if I had practice at 7 we ate at 6, I got off at 6 we ate at 7. The rink was walking distance from my house so I was often there on my own and just walked home. (This was in a small village where everyone knew each other). It started getting worse and worse but I started to lose weight and that meant I could jump higher and spin faster because I didn’t have as much gravity pulling me down. I felt like I was floating on air. I spent 15-20 hours a week on the ice and it only increased as I got older.

The worst part about going back was I couldn’t do Guides. When I started middle school I was able to join pathfinders and it set me on my new life journey, although I didn’t know it yet.

As a skater I got injured a lot, mostly just strains and sprains but the occasional break. It got to the point I would just wrap my anke, wrist, knee or whatever body part was hurting that day and ice it.

By the time I was 16 in Grade 10 I was competing at a youth provincal level. I was so excited, I had just qualified for my first national competition I was so excited it’s what I had dreamed of since I was 5. Getting ready for nationals was the hardest grind of my life, training went from 20 to 50 hours a week, I would spend entire days on the ice. I did school work in between ice times when they had to clean the ice. It was hard but I was loving it. My diet consisted of protein bars and coffee. (I blame this for my ice coffee obsession) at this point I was no more than 100 lbs and 5’4. I felt on top of the world.

But a week before nationals my ankles started getting really bad, then it was my knees, then other parts like my wrists and shoulders. I didn’t think anything of it at first I till I woke up one day and could barely walk, still I brushed it off as just muscle strain from working too hard, I would be able to rest in a week. Typically my joints would feel better throughout the day as I warmed them up. By the time I got to nationals I was so hyped, I had never competed on a scale like this, there were cameras, people bought real tickets and I suddenly got overtly nervous. I was walking through the dressing room areas and everyone else had the expensive rolly skate bag with the tailored dresses made custom by a professional and I had a ratty old suitcase we found in the basement and a handmade dress sewn by my mother. As a kid I was embarrassed, everyone else looked so much better than me. But I was just happy to be there and able to compete. The competition took place over a couple days. I was close to the beginning because I was new and didn’t have a real chance at placing. I spent the first couple days grinding on the ice, or practicing in the hotel or in the pool or wherever I was. The day that I was finally going to compete in my short program I was up at 6 in the gym and on the ice by 8. The competition started at 1 and I was in the first group. We all got kicked off the ice about 11:30 so they could clean the ice and get ready. Looking back I don’t think I had eaten anything that day, I was so stressed and the thought of food made me sick. The first group of 10 skaters including me were let into the ice for a final 15 min warm up. This was it, after this I was officially and national level skater. And that’s where everything went wrong. I was practicing a double jump (I can’t remember which one anymore) and when I landed my foot slipped and I heard a crack. At first I didn’t thing anything of it and tried to get up but my right leg wouldn’t move properly. Then my tail bone started hurting and I started crying, I somehow managed to get myself up and over to my coach. I had a choice suck it up and compete or go see a doctor. I went to the comp medic to see what they thought and they rushed me to the hospital. (A lot of this is a blur that has been filled in with stories from my parents and friends) I was in the ER and the doctor told me I had a broken tail bone, not a big deal I’ve done that before, but also I had fractured part of my hip and needed surgery right away. After this I remember very little, only the roof of the surgical suite and waking up unable to move most of my body. I was devistated, of all times why did this have to happen now! I was on my way up I was living my dreams.

I was in the hospital for months. I couldn’t get out of bed because they casted my hip area and leg, it sounds really weird but I can’t explain it any better. This was the worst time in my life even 7 years later I can’t thing of anything worse. I went from being an athletic, skinny, girl always on the go. To lying in bed, eating chips and watching Netflix 24/7. During this time I went from under 100 to about 175 lbs in the span of months. I was so embarrassed and made my dysmorphia even worse. I went back to high school in May 2013. I hated every minute. Everyone looked at me and talked about me. I was the joke of the school. During this time I got really depressed my parents tried to get me to talk to someone but they made me very uncomfortable and I was very closed off eventually they gave up and told me to suck it up. I felt like the world hated me and that no one wanted me here anyway. I started self harming to numb the pain but also feel something. I felt like If I hurt me them maybe I won’t hurt any one else. My parents only recently found out about this recently.

I made it to the summer but nothing fit me, my bathing suits were like strings compared to what I now needed and I didn’t have any money to get new ones. That summer I spent doing a lot of lounging reading books, swimming and exploring nature around my house. Honestly looking back this was one of the best summers ever. I was home alone most of the time because my dad worked and my mum took my siblings to her cottage. This was more freedom than I had ever had I was able to do what I wanted I didn’t have a training schedule for the first time in 6 years. I wanted to go back to skating the next September, but everyone was whispering and looking at me just like in school but this time is was the adults, I don’t think I even made it onto the ice that day. I had just stared a new school, leaving all of my friends (not that I had many) behind and starting over where I knew no one. When registering for classes I picked the typical grade 11 English, math, bio,physics, chemistry. But I was left with some extra electives for the first time. At my new school they offered a dance program, but to get into the grade 11 class I needed grade 9 or 10 so first semester I took grade 9 and seccond I took grade 11. The dance teacher was very understanding about what was going on and allowed me to adapt to what I couldn’t physically so while still recovering. Even now she is my favourite teacher ever! I made it through my other classes and the rest of high school was pretty un eventful, except I started to get hurt again. I could just be walking on flat ground and my ankle would give out or my knee would lock up or my wrist hurt so bad I couldn’t take notes. I went to the ER at the start but each time they said they couldn’t find anything and they thought I was making it up. After a few months I stopped going because they seemed annoyed with me even though I was in crazy body pain. I couldn’t move some mornings, others I was fine, some days I needed crutches but others I could run and dance. It was crazy and everyone thought I was making it up so I started to belive them. I ended up taking an extra semester of high school to finish off some classes that I wanted for university. I also stayed behind because I needed to have jaw surgery. This was due to a craniofacial difference I was born with, a cleft lip and palate. While this surgery is not necessary in all cases, my jaw was small and slightly mis alligned. This was fine I had no issues with this I spent a week in the hospital, watched Netflix and hung out with friends. This stay wasn’t as hard because I could move around, I wasn’t confined to my bed.

In September 2016 I started University at Dalhousie I. Halifax , Nova Scotia. This was amazing because no one knew me there I didn’t have people holding me to old standards. I met some of my best friends (and former roommates) in my residence building. We would have movie parties in my room and study parties in another, it was a blast. I became vegetarian very quickly, partly due to the gross meat options in the meal hall but also because I didn’t like the taste of meat I had cut it out almost completely when I was young and didn’t like it after that. Another reason was the ethical portion of it, why should they die to feed me when I can survive without it.

First year ended and we all moved out and into other apartments, we were still close but not as close as we were. When I moved I started working at a Sobeys grocery store close to the school. It was great I was shy and quiet for the first little bit but I came out of my shell and now they want me back in it lol. During seccond year I was trained as a supervisor so I made sure that all the casheirs were looked after(I often describe it as adult babysitting). One day I was standing arround checking out how the night was and I notice this woman come in and she askes me where to find tape, she is wearing a Girl Guide shirt!! I had been trying to reach out to a unit here for a year!! I told her where to find it and quickly wrote my name number and email on a piece of paper and watched as she was trying to check out. I made sure to find her and open a register for her to go through. I also gave her my number and asked her to contact me and that I had been trying for a while to join a unit she seemed confused until she remembered she was wearing a guide shirt.

I get an email a few days later explaining what their unit was doing and they were exited to have me. So the next Thursday I show up to this meeting and the other leaders and I immediately clicked. One of them had just graduated from my program and most of the others were all young students just like me. That first meeting I ended up skipping a physics exam to go to, but I don’t regret it one bit. At the end of the year we were moving locations, this meant that the craft tote bins had to be removed and stored in someone’s house.

The only people returning was me and one other girl Natasha, she wasn’t there very often but she was super cute and seemed really nice. Since I had moved into a house I offered to store them in my place rather than her apartment. We spoke mostly over email for the first bit. I ended up running in to her at her work place and we finally exchanged numbers and facebooks. We talked a bunch over the summer to figure out what we wanted to do.

During this time I was trying to focus on me, I spent so much of my youth worring about how everyone else perceived me and not as much on how I did. I stoped self harming on my own but like anything else it’s addicting, I started talking to a therapist at the university and she recognized that yes I was depressed. she was also impressed that I was able to have the will power to stop on my own, but really I had just thrown out the jar and didn’t want to dig through the garbage. I started on some anti-depressants and it took a while but we found a good concoction.

When we started meeting to plan we were still kind of awkward, she was super sweet and I wanted to get to know her but I come off as overbearing sometimes and I didn’t want to scare her off. It worked out that we had the same time off classes. Whe had another class and I had work, so after class I would go to her school meet with her for ~3 hours then walk to work. The best part about Halifax is that the university’s are downtown and super close to everything, so even when busses are slow or not running it’s not too far a walk. During this time we became really close we spent a lot of time together planning, organizing and getting to the meeting location. For the first few months we bussed there each week with the craft totes, we then started to bring only what we needed but it was typically 4-6 reusable bags worth. Eventually we were able to leave them at the location, this made it much easier. Only having 2-3 bags worth each week. The next obstacle was cookies, we had 30 cases of cookes and neither of us had a car. Luckily our Commissioner was able to drop us off with the cookies. But we still hauled some to and from my house each week. With each week Natasha and I grew closer, she was the first person I came out to as bisexual. We also got a new leader Jordan, she is super nice and a real adult (not a student) I was worried at first that she would throw off our dynamic but she just made it better. In the winter I ended up buying a car, this was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. It made getting to work and guides easier, I could just keep stuff in my car I didn’t need to haul everything around with me. Unlike most units in our area, we stayed going until the end of June, many units close early due to students going home for the summer.

In May i had moved once again into a bigger house and Natasha was a huge help in that, she helped me set up my room and unpack. During this time I also went mostly vegan, there was some things that had milk or eggs in it but I did buy any more. We were rarely spending a day apart, we became best friends. We often went camping with her parter. The three of us would pack into my car and go, often booking a site on our way there. We stayed at 5 different provincal parks and visited about 10 others. We spent so much time together and it was some of the best times we would often get home and just sit in the car and have life chats or was really nice to be able to talk to someone who actually cared about how I was doing. My life seemed great for a bit, my one roommate stared to get toxic, she ended up kicking out my really good friend. I only stayed because I had nowhere else to go, I ended up getting a cat because she was so lonely and sad at the SPCA. She is abosolutly amazing and I love her to death! I don’t know what is it about petting cats that seems to make the rest of the world invisible. The toxicity got to the point of me wanting to sleep in my car rather than potentially run into her. This caused my anxiety to sky rocket and throw off the balance I had going.

Natasha started to talk to me about this pain she was having but having no idea why it was occurring. This reminded me of when I was younger and I would constantaly have weird pains I thought it was normal because there was no physical symptoms so I thought it happened to everyone. I talked to my doctor about it and he ordered a bunch of tests to try and determine what it was. All my tests came back clean and I seemed in perfect health. The stress of my living situation, as well as school and my grandfather passing away sent me into a spiral. There were days that I wouldn’t come out of my room. I often only left for work or the bathroom, I fell back into the not eating food habits, I stared self harming again. I was so low I went weeks without showering simply because I didn’t have the energy or will power to do so. My toxic roommate told me that my depression wasn’t valid and that my anxiety is fake, I got so mad that I slammed and locked my door, I left out my window and went for a drive. I ended up calling Natasha and she calmed me down, I don’t know where I’d be if she hasn’t picked up that phone call. By mid October I couldn’t stand it any longer. And I knew I need to make a change. At the same time I got my fibromyalgia diagnosis, which is a rule out everything else diagnosis. This also threw me through a loop realizing I don’t have to just internalize this and suck it up, this caused me to end up not going to classes in the fall because I simply couldn’t mentally or physically do it.

Natasha had been talking about moving out of her place and I thought this is my chance. We are already best friends we spend so much time together this will be great. In November we signed a lease and moved in later that month. It was a journey and a half, we tried to move as much as we could using my small car and managed most of it but beds and bigger stuff didn’t fit. We ended up sleeping on our camp matresses for the first little bit until we got our beds. All four of our cats are getting along for the most part. They are the cutest little demons, as I type this the 2 youngest are play fighting over top of me... ok no longer playing.

It has been a crazy couple moths with my diagnosis and trying to get meds to help it. Luckily my pain base line is really low, but it flares up a lot, often at work or when I’m not moving around a lot and it’s even worse on my period, I can’t walk some days it gets so bad. Luckily I have a team of amazing people working with me to get myself back on track. I’m back in school now and it’s going much better, I still haven’t found the perfect drugs but we are getting there. I have my down days but am having more and more up days. And I know that if ever I need something that I can always holler and/or pet cats. I have the best support team in the world and wouldn’t change a thing.

[dramafan5-blog]

New York City Food Guide

New York City Food Guide: Where to eat in New York City? - Bikinis & Passports

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To me personally, travel has always been multi-dimensional. It is not simply a beautiful beach, a welcoming hotel or an agenda filled with sightseeing that makes a trip worthwhile. It is the culture. And that includes food. Luckily, Mike is the exact same way when it comes to traveling (actually, even more so than me) – vacation means planning our days around our meals. The only problem is that there is usually not enough time to work through everything on my foodie-list. That is why, during our most recent trip to New York, my goal was to only try new places. While we didn’t succeed 100% (always find myself going back to a few favorites), we did well in trying new places to eat in New York City and working our way through the many recommendations we had received from friends.

Since this was my 6th visit to NYC, I have been keeping tabs on all the places I love, jotting down notes and keeping a file of the best places to eat in New York City – I like to consider it my very own personal little New York City Food Guide, which I want to share with you today.

two hands up for this place.

Brunch / Breakfast

Juice Generation: By now, acai bowls have (luckily) made their way to Vienna, but still, I always have to have one when visiting NYC. At Juice Generation, I always order the Almond Butter Bliss or PB Acai. Also worth a try are their smoothies, especially the XO Coco or Protein Buzz.

Juice Press: Staying on the topic of Acai Bowls, the Almond Butter Acai Bowl with toasted coconut as a topping at Juice Press was my favorite for the past 2 years. Unfortunately, I feel like it is sort of a hit or miss thing depending on which location you go to. The staff is rarely friendly but if they get the acai bowl right, it is amazing! If you are not in the mood for an acai bowl, try their fireball shots. Best!!!!

Sunday in Brooklyn: As the name suggests, this place is perfect for a Sunday (or any other day for that matter) spent in Brooklyn. Go there for breakfast or a light lunch. If you can, grab a seat outside, soak up some sun and sip on their homemade lemonades.

Le CouCou: This restaurant is part of the 11 Howard Hotel in Soho and aside from the fact that their interior is beautiful (also suitable for a fancier breakfast meeting or date), the french press coffee is really good and “Le Californien” a must.

Two Hands Café: For Aussie-style breakfast in the heart of NYC, go to Two Hands Café in Nolita. I am in love with the neighborhood (right around the corner of Cha Cha Matcha, by the way) and the staff is super friendly (what else would you expect from lovely Australians). It doesn’t really matter what you order, everything on the menu is amazing – just be aware of the fact that the banana bread with whipped ricotta is more of a birthday cake dish than a healthy breakfast.

Bluestone Lane Coffee: Again, Australians know their coffee (almond flat white, please!) and breakfast! There are lots of Bluestone Lane Coffee Locations all around the city, I love the new spot in the West Village (Greenwich Ave 55)

Butcher’s Daughter: A plant-based restaurant, cafe & juice bar that has 3 different locations (including L.A.) serving breakfast, lunch, dinner & weekend brunch. All dishes are vegetarian, most even vegan and/or gluten-free with a focus on seasonal produce. The day we went, I was craving oatmeal and Mike opted for their breakfast bagel. Don’t miss their fresh juices.

Westbourne: This all-day café in Soho (open 8am until 10pm daily) is actually still on my list, one of the few things I haven’t tried myself yet. Still, looks incredibly promising and the next time I travel to New York, I will be sure to give it a go so I can update this post.

Snacks / Sweets / Coffee

Dr. Smood: “smart food for a good mood” This place opens at 7am (except for the Soho location) and is perfect for an early bowl of oatmeal to go along with that jetlag, a bag of nutmix for on the go, coffee or a healthy salad to bring on the plane with you.

Cha Cha Matcha: I don’t like matcha. Seriously, not a fan. But Cha Cha Matcha has converted me thanks to their iced ginger turmeric matcha latte. It is worth a visit, not just for the super insta-friendly branding.

Ludlow Coffee Supply: The Lower East Side is a place I just recently discovered and seems to be quite the foodie scene. The coffee at Ludlow Coffee Supply is great, it is a good place to sit and work off a few emails or to grab a slice of banana bread or a muffin in the morning.

Devocion: If you find yourself over in Wiliamsburg, head to Devocion for a coffee. The café is big and the wifi almost as strong as the coffee. Loved the interior.

Morgenstern’s Finest Ice Cream: Got a sweet tooth? Then how about some pre- or post-dinner ice cream at Morgenstern’s, a new American ice cream parlor focused on serving texture-driven small-batch ice creams with a renewed attention to flavor and palate.

Dough Donuts: We stumbled into Dough Donuts on accident after a very healthy lunch. I am not much of a donut person, but Mike is a big fan and his eyes instantly lit up after the first bite of a classic glazed donut at Dough Donuts. Later we found out that it is ranked amongst the best donuts in the city – no wonder and highly recommendable!

Lunch / Dinner

abcV: No meat, no problem! abcV serves the best vegetarian meals in town – at least from what I have tried so far. The interior is stunning (as is abc kitchen, both born out of a carpet & home store) and the food delicious. The cocktails beautiful and the flavors diverse. Vegetarian food at it’s finest – even Mike was impressed!

Carbone: Apparently this is Kendall Jenner’s and many other celebs favorite Italian restaurant in New York City. Recommended by a foodie friend of ours (he knows his stuff), this Italian-American restaurant is simultaneously elegant, comfortable and unpretentious. The menu includes dishes like a Seafood Salad, Linguini Vongole, Lobster Fra Diavola, Chicken Scarpariello and Veal Parmesan…

Catch: Girls night, date night, an evening with friends – I love Catch NY for special occasions. The restaurant is always buzzing and the food is good, especially if you like fish and seafood! Or truffle fries, which are a must when dining at Catch.

Lilia: “Lilia brings the best of Italy to Williamsburg where wood fired seafood, hand crafted pastas, classic Italian cocktails and warm hospitality come together to create a casual dining experience.” Unfortunately, this place is so popular that I haven’t made it there yet – however, it is at the very top of my list. Both for the food and interior. And the fact that we’ve received this recommendation not only from one but two different friends. Plus, I really fell in love with Brooklyn recently and want to spend more (culinary) time there.

BoCaPhe: Looking for a hot bowl of pho in a casual atmosphere? This is the place for you! This Vietnamese restaurant (with a French twist) in Soho is perfect for a quick, easy dinner if you are craving the comfort of Vietnamese food. Fun fact: They also serve breakfast all day long.

The Standard Grill: I am not sure what it is about The Standard Grill, but it has such a special atmosphere to me. Their Standard Burger is crazy delicious, but you definitely shouldn’t miss the brussel sprouts or their fish entrées either! Always worth a visit!

Tacombi: Think tacos and micheladas! With a side of extra guacamole, of course. A super easy-going Mexican place for great food without the hefty (NYC-style) bill.

La Esquina: While we are at it… more Mexican food. With four different locations around the city, La Esquina is a good place to keep in mind when you don’t know where to go for dinner. Because let’s face it, Mexican food is always a good idea!

Cosme: And just because that wasn’t enough viva la Mexico, Cosme is a restaurant in New York City’s Flatiron District serving contemporary Mexican-inspired cuisine. Their dishes are rooted in Mexican flavors and traditions, while also celebrating local and seasonal ingredients.

Barbuto: For our last lunch in NYC, we were craving Italian within walking distance from our hotel in Meatpacking District. Google gave us Barbuto and we are so glad it did. Famous for their chicken on the spit, kale salad and homemade pastas, “the restaurant occupies an airy garage space on the ground floor of Industria Superstudios on Washington Street, between Jane and West 12th Streets. With garage doors that can be opened and closed, guests can enjoy a sidewalk table in the warm months. The simple décor and open kitchen add to the restaurant’s warm and inviting feel.”

Contra: For a special date night, we opted to dine at Contra in the heart of Lower East Side on Orchard Street. The restaurant serves an ambitious set menu (6 courses, fixed price), featuring interesting local and seasonal ingredients. We shared a wine pairing, which was plenty for both and loved the dining experience. The food was great and the price of 78$ for the 6-course menu more than fair!

Delis

Marlow & Sons: We heard about this place via a food documentary we watched and instantly put it on our list of things to do in New York City (it is actually located in Brooklyn). I love their approach with a “no gratuity” policy in an effort to make the industry more sustainable. Their menu prices include service and there is no need to tip extra. The food was good and restaurant really cozy – I just think we should have gone for dinner & drinks instead of a lunch on a super sunny day. This is the perfect place to enjoy a couple of oysters, olives, wine and other good things with friends!

Katz Delicatessen – since 1888: On our first night in the city, we decided to give the famous Katz Delicatessen a try. I have never really been a fan of the idea of over-priced sandwiches (22$) with nothing but white bread and tons of meat, but I have to admit, the meal was epic. I am not sure if the long flight + jetlag, super authentic atmosphere, hunger or hormones were to blame, but the pastrami sandwich was simply beyond anything I had imagined. In a very good way. The portions are huge (!!) so I would recommend sharing a sandwich and taking things from there. We ordered the classic Katz’s pastrami hot sandwich and rueben hot sandwich – both are highly recommendable but we had to leave way too much food behind.

lunchtime bloody marys – don’t mind if I do.

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Source: http://www.bikinisandpassports.com/new-york-city-food-guide/

[newssplashy]

SOCHI, Russia — The bartender at the restaurant here flipped a liquor bottle stylishly around his back and laid out the ingredients for a cerulean, absinthe-based cocktail that he garnished with a golden berry.

It was not so long ago that far different, far less palatable, concoctions — urine, coffee grounds, table salt, to name a few choice ingredients — were mixed inside this same building, mere steps from where he stood.

The restaurant, La Punto, is a Sochi gastro pub recommended to fans on the World Cup website that just so happens to be in the same building that housed the notorious anti-doping laboratory at the center of one of the most elaborate cheating schemes in sports history.

Here, Dr. Grigory Rodchenkov — the chemist who ran drug-testing in Russia for a decade, including at the 2014 Sochi Olympics — spent the overnight hours of those games tampering with more than a hundred urine samples to conceal the widespread use of banned, performance-enhancing drugs among Russia’s top athletes.

This month, as another major international sporting event rolls through this city, the structure can be seen as a lingering symbol of the shadow from which Russian sports are still trying to emerge, a discomfiting monument to the dark art of doping.

But Tuesday night, as fans packed the restaurant to watch Russia pound out a win over Egypt, the building that placed a pockmark on Russian sports suddenly became a venue to celebrate it.

“It is an extremely positive thing,” said Artyom Zhuk, 35, a sailor from Novorossiysk, when asked about the building’s transformation at the World Cup. “We want people to come here, have fun, and see that Russians are friendly.”

Minutes later, as if on cue, a nearby table with a dozen Panamanian fans started a chant of “Russia! Russia!” to acknowledge the home team’s surprise lead.

Children ran around the dining room, stopping only to get their faces painted white, blue and red by a restaurant staff member. Half a dozen drivers from the taxi stand outside craned their necks through the window to watch the action as the volume inside the restaurant intensified.

The only allusions to the building’s dark past are embedded deep within the restaurant’s extensive cocktail menu, where tipplers in the know might notice the B-Sample — tequila, sambuca and Tabasco sauce — the name of the supplementary urine sample required in Olympic drug testing.

“Is the B Sample yellow?” asked Richard McLaren, who spent much of 2016 investigating what happened at the Sochi lab, said. (It is.)

“It effectively acknowledges some of the things that went on, but at the same time it trivializes it,” he added. “I get the humor in it.”

La Punto has two swank dining rooms connected by dank, dimly lit hallways, the very ones Rodchenkov surreptitiously roamed at night while executing the elaborate scheme to swap out dirty samples for clean ones. On Tuesday those hallways echoed with the pulse of dance music.

Most diners, even those well versed in the ins and outs of the melodramatic scandal, seemed unaware of the building’s sketchy past.

“I didn’t know that was in here!” said Karla Espinosa, a soccer fan from Panama City. “I’m going to take a picture so I can show my friends.”

World Cup fans this month have descended upon the restaurant in droves, drawn to the numerous large televisions, eclectic menu and friendly waiters, who were zipping around the room on Tuesday wearing full soccer uniforms, even down to the high socks.

They shuttled diverse plates around a packed room: heaps of grilled meat; solyanka, the thick Russian soup, served “Olympic style;” clams from Sakhalin, a Russian island near Japan, and oysters from Crimea. There were pub classics, too, like cheeseburgers, served with a pair of black latex gloves (a recent Russian dining trend) supplied to protect diners from gushing beef juice.

The absinthe-based cocktail was called Meldonium, which happens to be the name of the banned substance that led to Maria Sharapova’s suspension from tennis.

Rodchenkov four years ago proudly formulated a cocktail known as the Duchess — a blend of three anabolic steroids mixed with Chivas Regal whiskey for men and Martini-brand vermouth for women.

“The irony,” said Richard Pound, the founding president of the World Anti-Doping Agency, who led an early investigation into Russian doping. Pound said he thought the doping scandal had cast a shadow over the World Cup, though “probably not as big or as dark a one as would be appropriate.”

The restaurant can joke about the building’s history, but Russian sports officials have had less humor about the scandal, for which the nation paid a $15 million fine early this year. Russia’s track team remains barred from global competition, and the country’s anti-doping operations have been decertified by international regulators.

In a moment that Russia is trying to ingratiate itself back into international sports community, some darkness lingers.

“I do think there is a shadow, still,” said Fernando Camacho, 24, a Mexico fan visiting Sochi from Chester, New Jersey. Camacho said being reminded about the ongoing scandal had a “sobering effect” on the otherwise cheerful festivities.

The drinks at the restaurant, judging from the wild cheers and celebrations that met the final whistle on Tuesday night, had the opposite effect.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

Andrew Keh and Rebecca R. Ruiz © 2018 The New York Times

via NewsSplashy - Latest Nigerian News Online,World Newspaper

[blindmanspuff]

Introduction

After nearly two decades of marriage, it is not uncommon to find yourself in a bit of a rut. If you have kids, you can find yourself going through the motions every day. Some days can be considered a success simply because the house didn’t catch on fire and no one ended up in the ER. We make our own sacrifices and do the best we can to make each day interesting, but the routine can cause us to fall into a pattern of sameness. One day in the Spring of 2017, my wife and I made an out of the blue decision to change things up and we are so glad we did. Since she is a teacher it makes the most sense to take our trip during her spring break. That did not coincide with spring break for our kids, but we were fortunate enough to have family and friends nearby who could help us out at home and keep an eye on the kids (see the earlier comment about catching the house on fire). We decided on a destination that would give us a tropical setting, beautiful beaches, and a vibrant local culture. Since we are also just average working people the overall cost was also a big factor.

After a lot of searching, we settled on Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. In today’s market we are so fortunate to have multiple sources on the web with reviews and recommendations related to travel destinations. So many people raved about Punta Cana, and the prices for local all-inclusive resorts were outstanding. Since Dominican Republic has such a wonderful cigar related history, I looked around for a cigar related excursion that would not take me away from the beach for an entire day and would not break the bank. I searched quite a bit online and had a conversation with Emmett, the Founder and CEO of Blind Man’s Puff and Don Lucas Cigars was at the top of the list. Emmett put me in touch With Kelmin Nacor. Kelmin is one of the lead representatives for the Don Lucas cigar brand.

The Don Lucas factory in Punta Cana is only one portion of the wonderful Muno Autentico. The Mundo Autentico facility is open and available to people staying at resorts in the Punta Cana area. In most cases, they will provide free transportation from your resort as well as free return transportation to your resort. On the surface, Mundo Autentico may look like a shopping and tourism experience, but it is so much more. It is almost like a history lesson about Dominican Republic and a glimpse into some of the industries that have provided such a great name to Dominican Republic. Not only can you tour the Don Lucas Cigar factory, you can also experience the process behind Dominican coffee, chocolate, and rum. All of this capped off with a visit to a beautiful all-in-one shopping center. Being Blind Man’s Puff, we will focus on the cigar factory, of course.

                                         The Cigar Factory

Since I have already been to some cigar factories, I had some idea what to expect. What was so wonderful about the tour at the Don Lucas cigar factory was the close family atmosphere. While it is a small factory by some standards, they do not cut corners on quality or final product. They meet or exceed some quality control and aging standards that I have seen from other manufacturers. They don’t disclose what daily production rates are, but they vary. It all depends on what leaf they have in stock that day that is ready to be rolled. They do not base anything off production quotas, but only on quality standards. I greatly admire that practice, especially considering how rare it is becoming in the cigar industry.

I was very pleased with the attention to detail in all aspects of the cigar operation. From the storage of the bales in that pungent and overwhelming smell of ammonia, to the sorting room, all the way to the rolling floor. It is evident that they take great care of the tobaccos that are sourced from farms in and around Santiago, as well as some tobaccos from other major producers around the world. About 60 percent of all the cigars rolled at the Don Lucas Factory are sold right there at the Mundo Autentico gift shop. The rest are sold at retail cigar shops in the United States and Columbia. Don Lucas can be found at about 20 brick and mortar stores in the United States and 5 or 6 stores in Columbia.

The cigar lines from Don Lucas are varied and well-tailored to any palate. The Classic Series is a blend of Dominican binder and filler under a CT wrapper from Ecuador. While mild, it still has plenty of flavor and natural sweetness. The HS Series has a bit more punch, thanks to some higher priming Dominican leaf in the filler, along with a tasty Sumatra wrapper. The AL Series bring the bold strength that Dominican cigars are known for. Earthy and strong, with just the right balance of sweetness from some USA Broadleaf. The 20th Anniversary Series is an ultra-refined Dominican Puro that really showcases the flavors that the native tobaccos are known for. Almost a perfect mix of the HS and AL Series. The Family Reserve Series, in both natural and maduro, are a true statement of the history of Don Lucas Cigars. It is a blend that is incredibly refined, and yet still has enough boldness and nuance to please the most experienced cigar lover. Needless to say, all of the blends are made in extremely small batches.

Not only do they take great care in the making of their cigars, they also make all of their cigar boxes with the same attention to detail, and the best in materials. The boxes are made from solid locally sourced cedar and cedar veneer plywood. Every aspect of the box production happens in-house. The boxes are for all retail sales, but directly at the factory you can buy some of the Don Lucas blends in cellophane wrapped bundles.

                                     Dominican Coffee & Chocolate

If you are a cigar connoisseur you may not be aware of the delicious coffee and chocolate grown and made right in Dominican Republic. The tour at Mundo Autentico gives a nice look inside. The sections they have dedicated to coffee and chocolate are each like a mini-museum. With beautiful artwork and displays showcasing the history and the process that go into producing some of the most highly regarded products in the world. Interestingly enough, in my experience, Dominican chocolate and coffee share some of the same characteristics that also tend to define Dominican tobaccos. They lean towards an earthy quality that give a nice balance when properly blended. The chocolate is very smooth, but has a unique boldness that really stands out in the darker blends with higher cacao content. One of my favorite versions they had was a dark chocolate that was molded with sesame seeds. The nutty flavor of the seeds was an almost perfect balance with the chocolate. The coffee operation was just as impressive. You can see right inside the rooms where the beans are sorted, blended and roasted. It smells like absolute heaven. Similar to the chocolate display, you are given a museum-like tour through the world of Dominican coffee, with great detail and passion. I loved many of coffee blends that I tasted, but one was especially delicious and unique. It was a blend of cold brewed Dominican coffee, dark rum, and some local spices. It has such a kick and yet in the end I could still taste the coffee. The section with the coffee and chocolate really impressed me, and adds such a nice touch to the tour and the facility as a whole.

Dominican Rum

From there, we moved on to the most wonderful rum bar. This place was fantastic, and reminded me of the kind of sports bar you would regularly find in the USA. The walls on one end of the bar are lined with signed soccer jerseys from all over the world. It also boasts another walk-in humidor that rivals what you would find in many cigar shops. The star is, of course, the rum. It is truly mind-boggling to see the selection that they have behind the long, narrow bar. I was able to sit down and sample Dominican rums ranging from 4-year-old, all the way up to a 35-year-old rum. I would be willing to swear that the 35-year-old rum was like drinking liquid butterscotch. It was truly one of the most luxurious spirits I have ever tried, and one that I must try again someday.

                                     Shopping Extravaganza

To close it all out, the tour ends at the massive shopping complex. It is simply incredible to see all they have to offer. There is a huge selection on the main level of every kind of souvenir you could possibly imagine. From t-shirts to can coolers, and fridge magnets to baseball caps, they have all of it, in every conceivable style and size. At the time I was there, they also had a beautiful jewelry counter but they were finishing up a separate building dedicated exclusively to jewelry. The upstairs of the shopping complex has a great selection of the Dominican coffee and chocolate, and one thing that could have held my attention all day. The majority of the upstairs was dedicated to one of the biggest walk-in humidors that you will find anywhere. Of course I found a large selection of Don Lucas cigars there, but also cigars from almost every other mainstream brand you can think of. This also included a very large selection of cigars from Habanos, SA. A nice touch, considering the unreal amount of counterfeit Cuban cigars available throughout the resorts in Punta Cana. It is nice to know that the Cuban cigars at Mundo Autentico are truly legitimate. In addition to peace of mind in knowing they are legitimate, they also take an extra step to keep you safe as a cigar consumer. We know that Cuban cigars are not wrapped in cellophane, so at their shop they take the time to individually encase each and every Cuban cigar in cellophane to reduce the risk of damage or contamination while on the retail shelf. As far as I’m concerned, that is going above and beyond.

Conclusion

All in all, this retail space was a wonderful touch. I saw a couple of online posters bash the retail portion saying it was tourist trap and money grab. That kind of narrow-minded view makes no sense to me. As safe as it is in Punta Cana, you have to be more aware of your surroundings and aware of your own lack of knowledge of your environment. That doesn’t mean that Punta Cana is an unsafe place, but some tourists might not feel safe leaving the resort and going into town. With Mundo Autentico, they keep everything close and in-house to basically eliminate the risk. They give you free transportation to a site that will take you on a museum-quality tour of some of the best handmade industry that Dominican Republic has to offer. They also allow you to sample some of that wonderful handmade product. Then, they take you directly to a one-stop shopping center that has everything a tourist could ever hope for, at reasonable prices, in a gated and safe environment. To top it all off, they drive you back to your resort in Punta Cana free of charge. Aside from the fact that my wife decided not to join me, it was one of the best experiences of my trip. And she was glad to have a couple of hours to herself to just lay in the sun by the ocean. I would call that a win-win, but that doesn’t do it justice. Most of the resorts in the area have a listing in their activity book for Mundo Autentico, but it’s always a good idea to plan it before you even arrive in Punta Cana. You can find out more HERE.  

  Here are some more images from my visit to Don Lucas/Puro Autentico.  Click each image to enlarge.

Editorial: Don Lucas Cigar Factory | Mundo Autentico - Punta Cana, Dominican Republic Introduction After nearly two decades of marriage, it is not uncommon to find yourself in a bit of a rut.

[theblognoonewillread-blog1]

Preface

It’s been a hard year for a lot of people. The current administration has been full of fraud, ill will, open bigotry, and more. That has weighed down on my mind, as it has with many others. But in my case, I already had a fairly full dance card in terms of personal issues that can exarcebate the clinical depression I was diagnosed with decades ago.

I do not fit the profile of the average American today, at least according to social media. I’m in my 50’s, I am a man of color, I’m gay, and I’m single. I am also currently unemployed and do not have a permanent dwelling thanks to Hurricane Harvey, which has complicated the matter – no job, no proof of income, how does one get a place without having to turn to horror-style properties on Craigslist?

I am also not “hot”, not “uneducated” (a four-year degree seems to be of little use to all but the most business-driven in America now), not carrying rippling abs or sporting a huge member, the lack of reputation meaning getting it on with anyone is practically impossible.

For some time I have had a hard time finding my “tribe” - that group of people, that community, with which one should be practically inseparable because they’re so alike, so together, so similar in energy. I’m a Midwesterner who relocated to the Gulf Coast over 30 years ago – for work, of course. For maybe 6 or 7 years I had a sort of built-in community but it was never a completely square fit. Then I found a gay-friendly community in town but ran into a variety of issues there also. Gay America has many of the same problems straight America has – just a matter of degrees.

So, the complicated nature of my things not working out left me, this holiday, with no invites to dinner, no home to go to, and – even more annoying – no permanent place to call home. For over four months now, an extended-stay hotel has been my “apartment.” The morning light comes in too early, and I often hear the roar of a highway nearby. It is a utilitarian place, not a personal one.

As an alternative to sleeping in the entire day – a depressing prospect unto itself – I decided to drive to a casino one state over and enjoy their sumptuous buffet. The annoying thing was, thousands of other people had the exact same idea. It made the casino aisles crowded with people aimlessly drifiting about, walll-eyed and (in some cases) predictably tipsy. It occurred to me that casinos have become a sort of adult day-care center. A younger adult child can drop his aging mother or father at the door, then drive off while the parent drifts around, entertaining himself/herself with the prospect of getting rich, or at least the occasion thrill of hitting a win on the slots.

So here I was, sitting among them, practically speaking with nothing in common with them except our need to distract ourselves. My distraction had a purpose – to get through the day, to survive it. When contacts on social media said they hoped I was having a great day I left it open, silence. I didn’t want to risk disapproval by telling them the truth. Miss Manners might say that not “dumping” on friends is good social policy for holidays, but I have to wonder if she’s ever had bouts of depression or loneliness.

Coincidence and, perhaps, universal cruelty – as I was typing this I heard Gloria Lynne singing a song I’d not heard. I used SoundHound to identify it - “All Alone.” Thanks, universe.

There is a fine line in America between letting others know what downers are going on in your life and being labeled a “drama queen.” I feel perpetually like I have to do a Herculean editing act on what I say to (as I thought earlier today) present my situation in a palatable fashion so as not to send others running. The problem is that in doing that, I don’t get the benefit of just dumping it all out there, of letting raw emotion drive how I communicate. I resent having to edit what I say. And it’s worse on social media like Facebook – when I admit I’m not having a good time I get crickets. One guy who asked about my job situation today, when I looked at our message feed, I realized we hadn’t spoken in two months. I sent a quick holiday greeting and got one back. I can only imagine he’s tired of bad news so maybe I’ll do what I’ve done with so many others in recent years – add him to my Restricted List: we have a connection in form only, but little else. On such a list, no one sees my warts – they see the edited “media feed” to entertain.

It has been said that depression is the fastest growing disease in America today. I can absolutely see why – no one feels like they’re being heard. No one feels anyone gets them in the workplace, in dating, in their communities, in their families, anything. And the authority and moral leaders we used to have, they’re all on the take in various ways so no one is there to do anything for us when we hurt.

This situation, of course, is worse for folks like me – older, black and middle-aged are three whammies today’s society can’t relate to. It’s never happened that anyone has ever asked me point-blank, “Why don’t you go to a coffee house with people your own age?” That’s because no one has opened such a place. Not many businesses market to the middle-aged, it’s assumed we’re washed up, don’t spend any money and are set in our ways. And we’re not sexy – so no one presumably wants to look at us. I think a coffee place where anyone over 35 was made not just to feel tolerated, but appreciated. Right now, the closest we have to that is either Starbucks or the bars – nothing in between.

I’d love a middle-aged friendly place. I wouldn’t want it to be exclusively that age group, I like diversity, just be interesting is all I ask. Boring people come in all ages, classes, education levels.

I am a bit of a complicated person. Those complications are part of why I think I have largely been a social misfit. I don’t act like anyone else (less superficial). I don’t carry myself the same way as others. The whole migration to typing messages rather than actually talking is part of my depression – a female friend of mine I’ve known for years, we don’t even really talk on the phone! I don’t like this! Years ago a guy I worked with, he and I used to talk on the phone and get together once a week to watch TV at his apartment. We did that for YEARS. He was the first guy I came out to.

Since then I have had “relationship” (I guess you could call it) fall apart for a variety of reasons. One guy is a bad listener. Another has no time (too “busy”) - that is almost always the kiss-off. It gets worse when it comes to business or getting a job hookup – I know NOBODY. Guys I worked with at previous jobs? No support. Not the way it happens for others. It has occurred to me that for the 30-plus years I spent in my last city, only TWICE did anyone else ever offer to walk a resume in. The results both cases were nil, but at least I had that. The irony of that is that I work in the information technology industry – I’m supposed to be connected to other smart people. Sadly, the industry has become commoditized so everyone’s disposable. Even my colleagues at a consulting place I used to work for, I have nearly zero contact with – that should have been gold.

About the name of this blog: I chose it because I have the idea that the average American right now, and the younger, the more pertinent this is, feels entitled to be happy. They don’t want to hear about anyone else’s issues, they don’t want to learn to be a part of a larger whole like a multi-aged community or coalition – they want their gaming systems, their movie and TV services, and they want their social media. And that is ALL. I really wish I could be around in 30 years to see where many of these folks are at – whether the depression we have now is worse then because that generation never bothered to learn from others, because they chose to separate themselves.

I met a guy at an art show several months ago. Showed him my business card and he made some comment about how millennials are supposed to be more open-minded and carefree. Then he did a sprint away from me, figuratively, that would have made Carl Lewis jealous. Tried to contact him on social media and got partially blocked. That was enough for me to drop it at that point.

The people I wish would read this blog almost certainly won’t. They’re too “busy”, too “distracted”, too “happy.” Perhaps some of my resentment is little other than envy. Maybe I’m seeing something that isn’t real, that isn’t there. But it’s so … uneven. So that is why, in my tag line, I say that if you’re already happy, this blog is not for you. This is for the rest of us who you studiously avoid being involved with because you feel our adversity would contaminate your life and lifestyle.

I may not post here often, and I actually tried doing a blog like this years ago. Maybe someone out there will see himself in this blog. I wish I had a positive message to share but right now, I don’t.

One of my big resentments right now is with the so-called universe. I jokingly have said that because there’s only one universe, it doesn’t have any competition and – like any monopoly – can afford to be sloppy. That is not a completely original idea; I actually stole it from a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon when he was telling his father about Santa Claus – not entirely unrelated.

I have found myself in recent years railing against the universe, feeling that it is – intentionally (it seems) – withholding good things from me. Why, for example, am I in one of the ten largest cities in the U.S. but not getting “run into” smart people, connected people, whatever? I would be disgusted to find out IT thinks the problem is entirely mine. Really? A group of people take a 400-year headstart and you can’t make any corrections for that down the line? We have to wait centuries for social justice to come? How powerful are you?

And then – as we’re repeatedly told ad nauseam – we’re not the center of the universe, so much so that the message is almost, “Don’t want anything, ever.” Were human nature based exclusively on Buddhism with its concept of detachment it might have something there. But right now? Not so much.

I am not asking to be the “center” of the universe. I am just wanting to be the center of a tribe – to be  connected, celebrated, loved. It is sorely lacking and between my emotional depression and my inability to earn money, it is costing me a FORTUNE.

By the way – if you’re a fundamentalist or an evangelical, TUNE OUT. Way too many of you folks could have changed the result of the last election but you didn’t. You harp on the same issues over and over – sexual minorities, racial minorities, all you’re about is separatism and punishment. I daresay if Christ returned to earth you’d run him in as a Middle-Easternerner and bitch about him on AM talk radio.

That is it for the moment. This is an experiment. If it doesn’t work I could wind up living on the streets – that is, if I can’t get all my ducks in a row and the universe doesn’t give a shit.

Stay tuned.