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thewidowsghost · 4 years ago

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Stay Strong, Alex - Part 1 (Alex Danvers x Fem!Cop!Reader)

So, you guys may have seen my update a few days ago about me binging 30+ episodes of Supergirl in like 4 days. I found the episode titled “Alex” to be one of the most interesting episodes I have seen so far, so I wanted to write the reader into that episode. This is definitely going to have another part or two.

Part 2

Part 3

The return of Jeremiah Danvers was something that the two Danvers sisters had been waiting for for years.

(Y/n) smiles at the youngest Danvers as Kara opens the door.

(Y/n) (L/n) knocks on the door of Kara Danver's apartment, a bouquet of

amaryllis resting in the crook of her arm and a bag in the other hand.

"Hey," Kara says with a smile.

"I heard there was a party?" (Y/n) asks, her gaze resting on Alex for a moment before resting her (E/c) orbs back onto Kara.

"Yeah, come on in," Kara says and (Y/n) steps through the doorway.

Alex crosses the room in a few strides, a nervous look on her face. "Hey, um . . ." Alex places a soft kiss on (Y/n)'s cheek. "Come in."

"Hey, sweetie," Mrs. Danvers greets, pulling (Y/n) into a hug.

"Hey," (Y/n) smiles, holding out the bouquet. "I brought these for you all." A mischievous smile spreads across (Y/n)'s face. "Might help spruce up Kara's bland apartment.

Kara's eyebrows raise. "Um, yeah, my apartment isn't bland (L/n)," Kara says, taking the flowers and putting them in a vase.

"Dad," Alex says, her hand resting on the small of (Y/n)'s back, "this is my girlfriend, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) can sense the nervousness in her girlfriend's voice and she glances up into her brunette's eyes before meeting Jeremiah Danvers's gaze.

Jeremiah looks at (Y/n) curiously before speaking, "Things have changed." Alex sighs with relief at the smile on her father's face and (Y/n) nods slightly at the man. "There is no man on Earth good enough for Alex Danvers. So it would have to be someone like you."

(Y/n)'s lips spread into a smile. "Flattery?" she asks, her eyes glimmering with amusement. "And, well, you're right. Alex does deserve the best."

"Oh!" Jeremiah steps forward as (Y/n) offers the bag to him. "And you brought . . . Tequila!" Jeremiah grins. "Okay, she's family."

There's a knocking on Alex's apartment door as the woman sips on her glass of scotch.

Alex grins and lets her hands rest on (Y/n)'s shoulder, a fond look in her chocolate brown eyes.

. . .

"Yeah," Alex calls, her eyes slightly closed.

(Y/n) opens the door and steps inside her girlfriend's apartment. "Hey," she says softly. She closes the door softly and walks over, concern taking over. "What's wrong?" she asks. "How was your dad's first day at the DEO?"

Alex doesn't meet (Y/n)'s gaze and her glass hits the counter with a thunk.

Alex reaches for the bottle of scotch, her movements sluggish.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," (Y/n) soothes, grabbing the bottle quickly and sliding it down the counter. "Alex, hun, I'm here," (Y/n) murmurs, letting her hand rest on Alex's knee. "You can tell me anything."

A tear runs down Alex's cheek and (Y/n) lifts Alex's chin with a gentle finger.

"Hun, you can tell me anything," (Y/n) murmurs.

Alex lets out a sob and (Y/n) wraps her arms tightly around her girlfriend.

(Y/n) scratches the last dog on the head as she leaves her job at the volunteer animal shelter.

"It's okay," (Y/n) murmurs, running her hand soothingly down Alex's back. "You're so strong, honey." Alex wraps her arms tighter around (Y/n)'s mid-section. "So strong."

. . .

(Y/n) bounds excitedly into the door of Alex's apartment and Alex jumps up from the couch.

"Hi," Alex greets, kissing (Y/n) on the cheek.

"You little butt," (Y/n) says with a grin and Alex shakes her head with a fond smile.

Alex leans down and (Y/n) kisses her on the lips this time.

"Cutie," (Y/n) coos with a warm smile.

"Says the woman who works with adorable animals all day," Alex scoffs, and the two flop down on the couch. "I don't know how you do it," Alex adds.

"What?" (Y/n) asks, turning to meet her girlfriend's chocolate brown gaze.

"Are you kidding me?" Alex asks. "You're an NCPD officer and you volunteer at the animal shelter on your days off." (Y/n) smiles shyly. "You're insanely badass."

There's a knock on the door and Kara grabs the pizza from the delivery man.

(Y/n) just shakes her head fondly.

. . .

"Thanks," Kara says as Alex waves a towel around as the smoke detector beeps.

"Alex, don't be embarrassed, okay?" Kara's boyfriend Mon-El tells Alex. "Okay, the first time I tried to microwave macaroni and cheese they had to evacuate three city blocks."

"That's an exaggeration," Kara says, handing (Y/n) a pizza box, "but I have seen less terrifying nuclear explosions."

"Well," (Y/n) says, opening the box, "I like pizza better than paella anyway."

"Yes, me too," Alex agrees and (Y/n) smiles at her girlfriend, taking a piece of the pepperoni from the box.

"I love ham and pineapple!" Kara says enthusiastically.

"Thank you," Mon-El returns. "It totally shouldn't work, but it totally does. How's my girlfriend, guys, huh?"

Kara laughs, "What?"

Bank robbers, zero," Mon-El continues. "Supergirl, two."

(Y/n)'s expression turns steely and she gazes at Mon-el as he continues, "What do you even need cops for in this city?" Mon-El laughs.

(Y/n) steely expression turns into a glare and Alex chokes back a laugh. "He's from a different planet. He doesn't even know what he's saying," Alex tells (Y/n).

"No," (Y/n) says, her expression blank, "he's right. Why bother trying to talk someone down when Supergirl can just force them down?" she asks, turning to stare at Kara. "Twenty-six hours of 'What do you want, how can I help you?' good old-fashioned hostage negotiation wasted."

"You're not upset that I caught the bad guys and got everyone out safely, are you?" Kara asks and (Y/n) just rolls her eyes.

"I could've gotten them to free the hostages," (Y/n) retorts, her eyes blazing angrily.

"Maybe," Kara replies. "But they're in jail now, where they can't hurt anyone. That's all that matters."

"The point is, you can't just punch your way out of things, sometimes you have to use your words," (Y/n) snaps.

"I did what I had to do to get those people out of there."

"I think what (Y/n)'s trying to say is that what you do is amazing when we're up against . . ." Alex pauses.

"A giant purple monster or a half-cyborg murderer, sure," (Y/n) continues. "But most of the time, police work requires a more delicate touch."

"'Delicate?'" Kara questions, taking a sip of her wine.

"Yeah. You broke a guy's arm and you gave another one a concussion," (Y/n) glances over at Alex. "And that was after you knocked the roof of a National City landmark! And now, it just has a big, Supergirl-sized hole in it."

By this point, Alex's eyes had gone wide.

"A thousand things couldn've happened from the time of your call to the hostages walking out," Kara argues. "Maybe, yeah, sure, I broke some walls, but I got everyone out of there safely and that is a win," Kara's voice had raised at this point and Alex and Mon-El were exchanging bewildered looks.

"Well, you should've asked," (Y/n) returns. "Officers are losing their jobs left and right, but you never look before you leap."

"Because I can fly."

(Y/n) scoffs, "Okay."

Both Alex and Mon-El clear their throats.

"Well, as being something of a superhero myself," Mon-El pauses. "I can say that sometimes it's better to punch, than, than to talk."

"Sometimes talking is more hurtful than punching," Kara says, taking a bite of her pizza. "Obviously, I've upset you, (Y/n). I'm gonna go."

"No, Kara, don't do that . . ." Alex says softly.

"No, it's fine. Thank you. Thanks for dinner," Kara says, getting to her feet, grabbing her purse.

Alex glances over at (Y/n) desperately.

Kara leaves the apartment and Mon-El follows mouthing 'Sorry' as he closes the door, a piece of ham and pineapple pizza in his hand.

Alex gets up from her chair. "I know you're upset about earlier, but I really . . ." (Y/n) stands up and moves to stand in front of her girlfriend. "I just want you and Kara to get along."

(Y/n) drops her gaze from Alex's brown eyes and Alex softens. She leans over and presses her lips to (Y/n)'s.

"Where are you going?" (Y/n) asks as Alex moves towards the door.

"I'm going to go talk to Kara," Alex says.

"Well, be safe," (Y/n) murmurs.

"What could happen?" Alex asks, walking over and kissing (Y/n) softly again. "I'm just going to see Kara."

Word Count: 1399 words

So yerp, this is the first part.

Taglist:

@procrastinatingsapphictrash

#alex danvers x reader #alex danvers x fem reader #alex danvers #supergirl x reader #supergirl x fem reader #fem reader #reader insert

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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483

Is there a bus stop near your house?: No, buses don’t stop around my area and I only ever see them on EDSA, which is like the main highway of Metro Manila.

Do you prefer red wine or white wine?: I hate the shit out of wine but if I absolutely had to drink some, it has to be red. And it has to be more sweet than bitter.

What’s the last airport you were at? Why were you there?: NAIA. I’m literally at the Starbucks right across the airport right now because my mom is arriving from Hong Kong in an hour and I have to pick her up.

Who do you live with?: I live with my family. That’s a mom, a dad, a brother, a sister, a cat, and a dog.

Do you read reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like?: Yessssss all the time. I always browse through the Popular filter since it already compiles the best recent posts, but I’m a huge fan of the r/AmITheAsshole subreddit. People who turn out to be the assholes are hilaaaaarious.

Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend?: No. I ‘broke up’ with Aya as a friend when she was being abusive to Jo, but she’s since started working on getting better and has apologized to our friend group, so she’s back on my good side.

What’s the weather like today? Is it nice enough to go outside?: It’s 29ºC. I’m glad we’re not in the 30s, but I don’t appreciate how warm it still is.

Do you know anyone who’s had a baby recently?: As far as I know, no.

Have you used a pen or pencil today? What did you write down?: [continued from earlier because I had to pick my mom up lmao] Yes, I used a pen today. It was to write my name on a requirement that I needed to submit to complete my class.

What does your last text message say and who is it from?: "Can I call?” from my girlfriend.

Can you count how many times you’ve seen your favourite film?: Must be near a hundred. I talked about this in a recent survey but there was a time I watched Two for the Road everyday for like 2-3 months. I still make it a point to watch it several times a year.

When was the last time you ate marshmallows?: I have no idea. I don’t like marshmallows; I’ve always hated the texture.

Do you listen to any podcasts? How do you listen to them?: Uhhh no, not really. If I REALLY REALLY like the guest, I’ll sometimes listen to Colt Cabana’s Art of Wrestling or Chris Jericho’s Talk is Jericho. But other than that, I’d rather watch YouTube videos.

How old will you be in the year 2030?: 32.

How often does the kettle in your house get used?: My mom never got one.

Does your skin bruise easily? Do you have any bruises right now? What from?: Yep, super. I don’t have a bruise right now but I do have a mysterious cut below my right knee. Have absolutely no idea where it came from, but apparently whatever cut it cut it deep and it hurts.

What was the last thing you spent $150 or more on?: I’ve never spent that amount of money on anything.

Do you prefer yes or no questions or more open-ended questions?: Open-ended. If I sense that a survey is becoming too yes-or-no I usually quit it halfway; it’s too boring.

What brand of toilet paper do you usually buy?: My mom buys the toiletries so I’m not aware of what brands she gets.

If I knocked on your door right now, would you be acceptable dressed?: Yes. I just got home and haven’t changed out of my jumpsuit.

Why did you leave your last job?: Never had one.

What colour were the last socks you wore?: It’s like a faded green.

Are you studying currently? What level of education and what do you study?: Yep! I’m an incoming senior in my BA in Journalism.

Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying?: No, that’s terrible.

What was the last thing that made you laugh out loud?: Probably something from Buzzfeed Unsolved cause I’ve been rewatching it lately.

What’s your favourite scent of air freshener?: Meh, I prefer the natural car smell. Scents make me dizzy.

How many weddings have you ever been to?: Four, I think. All of those when I was a kid; I haven’t been to a wedding since 2007.

Do you know anyone named Nora?: I don’t think so.

Are your hands and feet in good condition or could you do with a mani-pedi? My fingernails can be trimmed, but it’s not like a mess or anything. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play?: We played a math version of Scrabble when we stayed over at Laurice’s house. I’ve never seen a game like it before lmfaaaaao it was so intense.

Have you ever been to a festival for beer or other type of alcohol?: Nope. I don’t think that would be my kind of scene, either.

Do you own a record player and/or vinyls?: I don’t have a record player so I don’t have vinyls.

When was the last time you went out for drinks?: Third week of May. Have you ever been to a strip club?: NO I really want to go to one though.

What’s your favourite kind of smoothie?: I don’t take smoothies.

Do you know anyone with a ‘virtue name’? (Google it): Hmm I don’t think so, but I know someone who wants to name their kid Prudence.

Would you ever wear real authentic leather?: Never.

Have you taken out the trash today?: Nope, I don’t do that around the house. How often do you wear make-up?: Very seldom. I had my face made up several times over the last few months because Kate sometimes gets bored and she’d want to give me a makeover, but other than that, I rarely get my face done for events.

What’s your opinion on The Simpsons?: I have a very soft spot for that episode where Homer sits on the hood of his car and looks at the stars after he separated from his mom. I don’t keep track of the rest of the show.

Do you prefer horizontal or vertical stripes?: Horizontal. I don’t think I’ve ever worn vertical ones before.

What’s your favourite brand of deodorant/antiperspirant?: I don’t have a favorite.

Do you know anyone who has been through a divorce?: No. We don’t have divorce in the Philippines. So it’s not because all the couples I know are staying strong – it’s literally because no one is allowed to divorce by law.

If you had the money, would you take taxis everywhere instead of driving?: No, taxi drivers can be creepy. I’d rather drive by myself.

Have you ever done a juice cleanse?: Nope. I don’t need it.

Do you have any friends who you can’t decide if they’re attractive or not?: HAHAHAHAHA WTF, that’s so messed up and such a shitty thing to do. Is the inside of your fridge clean right now or does it need a clean out?: It’s always clean. My mom doesn’t let any spot in the house go messy for long.

When was the last time you washed the dishes?: This morning before I left the house.

Are there any magazines that you read on a regular basis?: Nope, I haven’t read one in months.

Do you have to pay for parking in most places in the town/city you live in?: No, not in Antipolo. That’s why I love it here. Once I get to the city though we do have to pay for everything, yes.

What’s the first thing you tend to do when you have a headache?: Take a Biogesic. Takes it out immediately.

Tell me about your responsibilities at work.: I don’t have a legit job yet, but at my latest internship I did news monitoring, press releases, research, and made briefing forms for the media.

Can you hear lots of traffic from your house? Does it bother you?: No. I live in a gated subdivision so it is very quiet here. Have you ever had proper Canadian poutine with the squeaky cheese?: I have never tried poutine, what a damn shame. I wish I can encounter a restaurant that serves it cause it looks SO GOOD. Canadian cuisine is not very prominent here though so idk when I can ever get an authentic serving of poutine :(

Do your parents know how to operate smartphones and/or computers?: My dad is very techy, more so than me. My mom uses her phone for her Facebook and camera and nothing else. She still asks me to Google stuff for her even if her Chrome app is right beside Facebook.

How old are your parents, anyway?: My mom and dad are both 1971 babies so they are turning 48 this year.

Are you allergic to anything? What do you have to do to prevent them?: No. My skin can get very allergic to the environment (especially if it’s humid), but it’s not an allergy or anything.

What song is stuck in your head at the moment?: I haven’t been thinking of a song.

Do you hate it when people try really hard, or do you kinda like it?: Idk how to feel about them...like sometimes I’d think it’s hilarious but other times I’d feel sorry and just cringe. But I’m certain I don’t hate it.

What’s your boss’ first name? Do you call him/her by that name?: My boss at internship is named Dessa. I call her that but I address her with Ms. before her name too so that it’s respectful.

When was the last time you wore a uniform of any kind? What colour was it? I wore my old school uniform last year for funsies because I spotted it in our storage closet and felt a little nostalgic. No reason to wear it, just wanted to mess around. The blouse ws white, the necktie and skirt are plaid.

Do you complete a survey before taking this one? Will you take one after?: No. After this, I’m torn among a) getting a midnight snack, b) taking another survey, and c) watching RuPaul’s Drag Race since I started getting into it last night, hahaha. Have you ever lost enough weight to drop a dress size?: I probably have, except I wasn’t actively trying to achieve that.

What’s your favourite kind of bread?: White and brioche.

When was the last time you got pizza? What toppings did you get?: Last Thursday. We got a cheese pizza and a barbecue chicken pizza.

Do you own Monopoly? Is it the original or a special version?: We don’t. I don’t know how to play Monopoly haha it always seemed just so boring to me.

What was the last thing you said out loud?: "Whatcha doing?”

You have to choose one: cats or dogs?: Dogs.

Would someone being either a cat or dog person affect you dating them?: It probably would. I wouldn’t want to be with someone who wants to own a cat with me. I love cats but I would never want them as a pet.

How do you travel to and from work?: I drive myself always. I don’t work yet, though.

Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why?: Cash, because I don’t have a card.

Have you ever been to a stadium concert?: I’ve been to arena concerts, if they mean the same thing lmao.

#survey #surveys

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olicitysecretsanta · 6 years ago

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Home for Christmas (You can count on me)

Rated: PG-13 for implied sexy times.

For @trueromantic1 who is enjoying Season 7 and loves Felicity being a Mom to William. This is more of an Oliver-centric canon fic but there is lots of William-Felicity bonding and Oliver-William bonding!

Summary: William is finally coming home from Cambridge and even though Oliver and Felicity have patched things up in time for the holidays, Oliver struggles to reconnect with William after prison. A series of holiday themed moments as the Smoak-Queen family adjusts to their new lives. Mostly fluff with a hint of angst.

December 13th

“You don’t think he’s going to be embarrassed by us do you? Maybe we went a little overboard with the balloons,” Felicity pondered as she untangled the gaggle of red and gold balloons in her hands, just nearly avoiding hitting another woman waiting outside the airport security checkpoint.

“We’re just excited to see him. I’m sure we’re not embarrassing,” Oliver replied, shifting the huge sign that read “Welcome Home William!” as a stream of passengers exited the terminal, trying to peer around them for their son.

“Yeah, because teenage boys aren’t known for being embarrassed by their parents,”

“I’m sure the pile of Christmas and Hanukkah presents under the tree will make up for it. You can barely walk from the front door to the kitchen without tripping over presents. What was in the big silver box anyway?” Oliver had been subtly trying to find out what Felicity had bought for William all week, slightly worried that her gifts would be better.

William’s first Christmas after Samantha had died had been hard and this year Oliver felt like he had a lot to make up for after being in prison for six months and sending his family into witness protection. Plus William was so different from him at that age it was hard to guess what he would enjoy. But the latest video game console sitting under the tree at home seemed like a safe bet.

“Oh! Cisco was able to hook me up with a prototype drone! Don’t worry, all of the dangerous stuff has been removed but it’s still better than any of the commercial drones on the market,”

“A drone? Damn, that is a good gift, why didn’t I think of that,” He might have to go back to the drawing board and hope he could get another gift before Christmas, Oliver mused before his thoughts were interrupted by a shout.

“Dad! Felicity!” Oliver was sure William had grown at least a few inches as the teen appeared through the crowd.

“Will!

“Hey buddy, we missed you so much!” The signed was abandoned on the floor and one of the balloons floated away to airport ceiling as both adults wrapped their arms around the teen.

“I missed you too, don’t cry dad,” William mumbled against Oliver’s chest.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” Oliver replied through watery eyes. “But I thought I’d start making up for lost time by getting pizza for dinner from your favorite place,” finally releasing a bashful looking William.

“Yes! And maybe after we can watch the new season of Doctor Who. Felicity introduced it to me while we were in Hope Springs and I finished catching up but I wanted to watch the new season together!”

“Aww Will, you’re the best binge watching buddy ever. Of course I waited! We can start the first episode tonight,” even Felicity was brushing away a few tears as she swung her arm around Will’s (she could swear) broader shoulders.

“Doctor Who? He’s the space detective one right?”

“He’s a Time Lord, Dad,” William rolled his eyes but Oliver couldn’t be happier, just glad to see this sign of normal teenage behavior in person. Maybe he was a little jealous that William and Felicity had another interest in common but he brushed it off.

They were under witness protection for five months, of course they were going to bond even more. But he was back home now and he’d reconnect with William soon enough.

Let the bonding begin.

December 18th

The Smoak-Queen family had quickly fallen into a routine and Oliver couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy. William was settling into the new apartment and Oliver had specifically told Dinah that he wouldn’t be pursuing the new Green Arrow until after New Years so he could spend some quality time with his family.

And Oliver was not looking forward to William going back to school. He would miss sleeping in and then cooking a late breakfast for the three of them. After breakfast they would have family time, going ice skating or to a museum. William and Felicity would keep up a running stream of commentary on whatever scientific or historical exhibit they saw and Oliver was happy to listen to the two of them.

After lunch, they would relax at home or go out to a movie. Today, William had enlisted Felicity to go to the mall for some gifts while Oliver prepared pot roast, William’s favorite home cooked meal.

He was just pulling some homemade rolls out of the oven when Felicity’s new security system alerted him to the two coming off the elevator towards the apartment. Soon they were pushing open the door weighed down with various bags.

“Hey guys, you’re just in time. Pot roast is almost ready,”

“Oh. Sounds great, Dad,” William responded but Oliver caught the subdued tone and disappointed expression on his face.

“What is it, I thought you loved my pot roast?”

“I do! I just thought it was mac and cheese night. It’s Tuesday,” William turned to Felicity as she was adding a few more boxes to the Mount Everest size pile of presents. “You didn’t tell him about mac and cheese night?”

“OK, what’s mac and cheese night?”

“It’s just a tradition we had in Hope Springs. I learned how to make it from scratch so it’s not as unhealthy as it sounds. We knew you would disapprove so we would add different toppings like avocado or salsa.” Felicity explained, looking a little guilty.

But Oliver was touched, if not a little jealous, by this bit of domesticity that his wife and son had shared.

“Well the pot roast will keep for tomorrow night. Why don’t you two show me how to make this famous mac and cheese,” Oliver relented easily as he turned off the oven and moved toward the fridge. He couldn’t help smiling widely at the loud cheers before they both threw their arms around him.

December 20th

The menorah had been lit and the sufganiyot and latkes been eaten. The three had spent a nice evening with a movie marathon after dinner before sending William off to bed when he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Now Oliver was enjoying cuddling with his wife on the couch, surrounded by gold foil wrappers from chocolate coins and empty popcorn bowls. Oliver was happy that Felicity was sharing his Jewish heritage with his son but this time of year had been hard ever since he came back from the island.

Of course Felicity picked up on his mood. “Hey, whats with the sad face?”

Oliver smoothed his hands down her back to reassure her. “Missing Thea and thinking about my parents. William would have loved to see the mansion at Christmas. Thea and I used to race to see you could finish candy canes the fastest.”

Felicity shifted so she was sitting up and could look at him properly. “I’m sure Thea misses you too. Do you want to go by your parents graves after we take William to Samantha’s this weekend?”

“That’s a good idea. But I still don’t know if I’m ready. My mom loved us more than anything but I’m still angry at her for keeping William a secret from me. I missed out on so many Christmases and William’s been distant ever since he got home. I don’t know if it’s because he misses Samantha or if he’s still mad at me for going away,”

They had talked about his conflicting feelings towards Moira in the past and that just made the holiday even harder for him.

“Well, Moira and I didn’t have the best relationship either but I’m sure she kept an eye on William. Besides, Christmas is about family and being together. We’re both happy you’re home,” she responded pointedly and poking a finger in his ches..

“Hey, I promised I’m not leaving you ever again,” he told her with a kiss to take away her pout. “It was my decision to go to prison, I just didn’t realize how hard it would be to earn his trust back again,”

“He’ll come around just like I did. And we can make our own traditions as a family,” said in between laying kisses down his throat. “We can start with you making love to me under these Christmas lights,”

Oliver hummed at the sensation. “But what if William wakes up?”

“Oh, I put some up in the bedroom too,” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes and a shriek as Oliver lifted her into his arms and practically sprinted towards the bedroom.

December 24th

After his talk with Felicity, Oliver had thrown himself into every holiday activity he could think of, determined to make some new traditions with his family. That’s why the kitchen was currently covered in flour and all of the materials for gingerbread houses. He and William were attempting to build a gingerbread village but it was really a thinly veiled attempt by Oliver to get some more one on one time with William.

“So aside from your classes, I haven’t heard much about Cambridge. Did you like it there?”

“Cambridge was cool. I’ve never been to the East Coast before. Felicity said we could visit colleges there sometime,” he replied absently, his focus on creating a moat around a gingerbread mansion.

William and Felicity might be thinking about colleges but Oliver was definitely not ready to think about the boy going off to college yet. “Maybe in a few years, buddy. Did you make any friends at boarding school?”

“Not really. It’s hard to make friends when you’re living under a fake name and a crime lord is trying to hunt down your family.”

“True,” he admitted. “So there were no cute girls there…or boys?”

Williams eyes widened a bit and he paused. Bingo.

Oliver knew from experience as a teenage boy it was best not to push. And William was shyer than he was at that age and he didn’t want to embarrass his son and risk missing this opportunity to hear more.

“Well…not in Cambridge… but there was someone in Hope Springs…” William ventured tentatively.

“Oh?” The best strategy when you wanted someone to talk was to let them fill the silence.

“H-he was in my art class, he was an exchange student from England and really good at drawing.”

“Ah, artsy types are always very mysterious. So, did anything…,”

“No!” he denied quickly, maybe a little too quickly. “Besides, after Diaz broke in we left so suddenly…”

“I’m sorry son,” Oliver tried to play it cool concentrating on placing gumdrops on the roof of a gingerbread cottage. But internally he was fist pumping and celebrating that William had confided this small but major bit of information in him. Progress!

“Hey, we should take a family vacation to London this summer. My parents took Thea and me when I was about your age,”

“Really?! That would be so cool dad!”

“It’s a plan then.”

After sending William off to his room to clean up Oliver cornered Felicity in their bedroom.

“Felicity!” Oliver rounded on her as she was lounging in bed focused intently on her tablet. “Why didn’t you tell me about the boy?! I knew I missed a lot in prison but this is a big thing you should have told me about!”

She pulled her eyes from the screen to look up her husband who had a streak of flour on his forehead and a giddy look on his face. She frowned. “Oliver, I have no idea what you’re talking about. What boy?”

“They boy William had a crush on in Hope Springs! Wait. He didn’t tell you?” This was even better!

“Will had a crush on someone? No he didn’t say anything about it to me,” Felicity pouted a bit.

“Yes!” Oliver really fist pumped this time.

“Oliver! I’m happy that the two of you bonding but it’s not nice to gloat,”

“Sorry hon, I just got a little over excited that he felt comfortable enough to come out to me,”

Felicity caressed his face (no more beard thank goodness) but looked a bit troubled. “You don’t think he was afraid to tell me do you? This is not good Oliver, I thought William and I understood each other,”

“I’m sure that’s not the reason. He probably just needed some time. I’m sure he would have told you eventually,” he replied pulling her into a hug.

“You’re right, I’m happy he trusted you with this,” she shrugged off her worries before taking advantage for the moment of privacy to kiss her husband.

“Dad? Felicity? You’re not being gross right now are you?”

They pulled away just as William pushed the door open, holding a DVD in one hand.

“Hey Will, what’cha got there?”

“Die Hard. We watched it last year on Christmas Eve. Should I go put it on?”

“It is your Dads favorite,” Felicity covered for Oliver who looked calm but who she could tell was internally freaking out with happiness again.

“Die Hard is the best Christmas movie and a Queen family tradition. You start it up and we’ll get the popcorn,” he motioned toward the door, before pulling Felicity back into his chest as William disappeared to the living room.

“You were right. We just needed to start some new traditions,” he said with a peck to her lips. Oliver knew he was still slowly building back the trust that he had lost but tonight was Christmas Eve and his family was together and starting their own traditions.

“Mmmm, my three favorite words,” she replied impishly. “I think I deserve another gift tonight after William goes to bed,” her words were innocent but the heated look she gave him clued him into what kind of gift she was talking about. Oliver’s response was a heated kiss that caused them both to forget what they were supposed to be doing.

“Dad! Felicity! I know you’re being gross in there!”

“Coming Will!”

“We’ll be right there!” They replied smiling dopily at each other before finally making their way out of the bedroom. Oliver sighed contentedly, taking in the sight of the presents under the tree, the menorah, and his wife and son on the couch as the title credits for Die Hard came on.

Oliver was finally home and he couldn’t be happier

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity secret santa 2018 #submission

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siodium · 3 years ago

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0105 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BESTEST BOI CHI

did you know?? chi has finally achieved another multiple of sebun years old!! thanks for the bday wishes everyone~

chi and cha shared a strawberry shortcake and watched spy x family to celebrate

my mum and bro picked out a nutella cake for chi~ it was delicious ofc~ this ownar actually wanted to get a tart from fruits paradise (aHEM not bc the ownar wanted to try it) but i didn’t have any going-out plans so it wasn’t convenient to pick one up ;; maybe another day like after work or something

chi: but chi wants cheez kek??

0205 it’s time for a beach episode!! (+ burrata pizza makes an appearance)

📍 PUBLICO RISTORANTE

luwi recommended the burrata pizza from this atas italian restaurant so we went there for lunch

it’s a good thing she booked a table in advance bc the place filled up super quickly after we went in

pizza was chefs kiss 👌!! it was first time trying the melty sort of burrata (i’ve only had a burrata pizza one other time and the burrata came as small smooth white balls... imagine a hardboiled egg but smaller)

you really can’t go wrong with the tomato/grass/cheese combination imo no pizza discrimination is allowed here

also alsdjaklsjd it’s apparently not rocket/arugula on the pizza?? the menu says italian basil?? my taste buds are confuse

after we finished our meal we headed for the beach!! but first we’ve got to get a nice cold drink bc it was sO HOT

decided to try luwi’s fav at chicha san chen: the osmanthus oolong tea with mango (0% sugar ofc)

it was fruity and ✨refreshing��

i’m gonna make a personal note to get that instead of my usual milk tea esp on hot days or days when i don’t feel like having a heavy drink

📍 SOME WHITE SANDY BEACH AT SENTOSA

i wasn’t paying attention to the tram announcements so idk where we went lmao

it was crowded at the beach but i guess that’s to be expected weh at least we managed to find a somewhat shaded spot

we changed into our swimsuits!! luwi’s swimsuit was the highlight of the event 🥵🥵 it was very spicy 👌 100/10

we got a towel from daiso as a picnic mat but we severely overestimated the size of it bc it was just enough for the both of us to sit on lol all our belongings had to go on the sand

i attempted to sculpt venus what do you guys think

got a banana split for chi and cha to share but they were not impressed by the size of it ;; sweats nervously

we mainly lounged around and took pics HAHAHA i’m excite to see how the film photos turned out

i’m still deliberating whether to post our pics or not bc... swimsuits...

but uHhh for the time being here’s me channeling my shrimp energy

also did you guys see my hANDS?? i love them but wtf

i got burnt from the sun so now i’m a grilled shrimp

before heading home we went to try heytea’s ice cream!! both of us got the king fone oolong flavour tbh i can’t taste any tea let alone oolong flavour it just tastes milky to me?? still nice tho

#log #i showed my mum the tiktok vid we made and she laughed lmao #successfully evaded the nagging... for now #btw if anyone wants to go for a photography excursion pls jio

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flapperfromthefuture · 6 years ago

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It’s been a year since I took my first-ever baking class at our local world-famous food emporium, and since then I’ve slowly but surely expanded my doughy horizons.

I made my own challah during the holidays at my parents’ house, with fancy chocolate chips and dried cranberries mixed in.

My entire family acted like there was an astronaut in the kitchen. At one point, my dad wandered in and yelled “She’s kneading! Just like on TV! Someone take a picture!”

Then my sister asked, “What would happen if you ate yeast? Would it bubble up in your stomach?” I said I had no idea. She said, “If you give me fifty bucks I’ll eat some yeast.”

My first attempt was decent, but my second was overproofed and I had to start over, and my ambitious plan of baking a dozen challahs to give as gifts to all our friends had to be scaled down to “Here’s two loaves for everyone to split,” but the results got good reviews.

Over the spring, I got into baking this Tunisian Orange and Olive Oil cake, from a recipe by the aforementioned food emporium, and I made so many of them that I experimented with swapping out the oranges for lemons (look out Bake-Off).

My summer bakes were even more ambitious. Stella’s mom gave me a German checkerboard cake pan from the ’70s (it was made in West Germany!). Fortunately, Stella speaks German, so she translated the directions and stopped me from putting it in the dishwasher. I baked three-layer checkerboard cakes in honor of the World Cup and the Fourth of July.

I made a red velvet/yellow cake combo for the Brazil/Mexico game with homemade green frosting to give each country’s flag colors equal representation.

Then Stella and my sister decorated it and let’s just say they will not be assisting me with my Bake-Off audition.

On Saturday, Stella joined me for my latest baking class: “Noodling about Strudeling.”

The description for the class really reached for the stars: “Remember when you were little and the gym teacher pulled out a compact plastic bundle and magically unfurled it into a huge parachute that the whole class could fit under?”

Stella and I said “HELL YES!” because we went to hippie school, where every day was parachute day.

“Well, you’ll have that experience all over again when we take a grapefruit size piece of strudel dough and stretch it out to cover a 24 square foot table! It’s just about the most fun you can have making food!”

Seriously, this food emporium has some good copywriters.

We were super pumped. Stella’s mom is from Germany, and she’s taught Stella all their family recipes, but they’ve never attempted strudel. Stella’s Oma back in Germany, a certified badass who is still going strong at 97, has never made strudel either. Strudel is really, really hard.

My hero and yours, Mary Berry, even says so—strudel is the only dough she buys rather than makes on her own. In fact, when the contestants made strudel on Bake-Off, one guy nearly sliced his finger off on the kitchen mixer and had to leave the competition to go to the hospital. Strudel is not playing around.

We entered the baking class to the sound of Cher’s “Believe.”

“I’m loving this already,” said Stella.

“Strudel” means “vortex” because you can stuff anything in there. Fruit, vegetables, meats, as long as you’ve got the time and space to stretch out dough to lengths that no other dough can go.

Someone asked if strudel can be made gluten free, and the instructor tried not to laugh.

“No, that would be impossible,” she said, for very sound scientific reasons. To get paper-thin strudel dough, you need gluten—and lots of it—because gluten is what gives dough the ability to stretch in the first place.

“Challenge accepted,” whispered Stella.

Strudel dough is so precise that we were told that if we poured just a smidgen too much of water, we would have to start over.

“You will know if it’s not exact,” said our instructor. “The dough will tell you so.”

She also told us to add in the eggs one at a time instead of cracking both at once.

“Uh-oh, you added the eggs together,” said Stella. “Oh no, I did too!”

“We’ve been here five minutes and we’ve already messed up the eggs!” I said.

“I didn’t even realize I was copying you,” she said. “Just like piano lessons.”

This is our relationship in a nutshell.

In order to develop the gluten and get it to the point that it can stretch from a ball of dough to this . . and then this . . . you have to smack it around.

Our instructor demonstrated a technique called “The Beaver Slap” and I will be happy to invest in the first lesbian bar that copyrights that name.

The Beaver Slap is basically a yo-yo toss combined with a flyswatter whack only with dough that can easily fly out of your hand and into someone else’s head.

On Bake-Off, someone’s dough took actual flight across the room before a magnificent crash landing, resulting in the immortal line, “I can’t serve Mary Berry green carpet!”

“Don’t forget to duck,” said our instructor.

We were advised to take off our watches and rings. Stella and I were nervous, but we cheered each other on. You don’t survive twenty-two piano recitals together without some coping skills.

“Good connect on that one!” I said as Stella’s dough thunked against the table. We were told to do fifty Beaver Slaps in a row! “You’ve got this!”

Strudel! It’s not for the faint of heart!

So as with my brioche class, the dough we made in class was for taking home and baking later, with one of the many recipes we were so kindly provided. For the strudels we were making in class, dough had already been prepared by the pros, and we would work in teams to make that super-dough into FOUR individual strudels—two savory, two sweet. All we had to do was stretch the dough over our tables, then fill, roll, and bake.

On Bake-Off (this was my favorite episode!), someone said that strudel dough should be so thin that you’re only good to go once you can read a newspaper through the dough. But you can’t tear it! If you tear it, you can make a bandage out of your extra dough. And there is a lot of extra dough. Our instructor said extra strudel dough was ideal for making noodles.

“Ooh, we should take a noodle-making class,” said Stella. “Oh my god, I forgot about my thumb ring!”

“You’re still wearing your thumb ring?” I said.

“It could’ve flown off during the Beaver Slap!”

It was time to stretch. Our giant ball of dough needed a lot of work to make it paper-thin. We had to walk our fingers underneath the dough and manually pull it apart without tearing it or jabbing through with our nails.

It took some time and we had to patch a couple of holes, but we did it. Our dough was so stretched out that we used pizza cutter to trim the edges—and we had enough left for an entire new strudel. Stella wrapped it up to take home.

We brushed the entirety of the dough with melted butter, then we lined up our savory fillings at one end of the dough—asparagus and Parmesan cheese. We were just about to brush the asparagus with even more butter and then roll it up when the instructor gently pointed out that we had forgotten to lay down the base of bread crumbs.

Bread crumbs absorb the extra moisture that’s expelled by the fillings when they bake. On Bake-Off (I watched it live and then watched it again right away!), several people had “strudel hemorrhages” because their fillings started leaking in the oven and burst out of the pastry, Alien-style.

And then there was the guy who put on a latex glove because he’d cut his finger and then before he knew it the entire glove had filled with blood and oh my god it was such a ride.

“How could we forget the bread crumbs?!” we said, scrambling to toss bread crumbs over the entire length of the dough like we were trying to feed a colony of starving ducks.

We spread our sweet fillings—apricot preserves and farm cheese—without any issues. With fruit fillings, you want to be careful and put in only preserves or pie fillings that won’t release too much liquid in the oven, or use fruits that hold less water, like apples.

People on Bake-Off made the mistake of using other fruits like strawberries and the end result looked like a strudel massacre.

Next came rolling the strudel, which requires coordinating both the cloth and the dough at an increasing speed and without losing any of your fillings in the process.

“You just have to commit to it,” said the instructor.

Stella told herself, “Don’t panic!”

“That’s our story right there,” I said.

“That’ll be on the gravestones!” she said, and then she rolled that strudel like a champ.

“See? You were born to strudel!” I said. “It’s in your blood!”

“And I didn’t lose my thumb ring!”

We sent off our strudels to bake, and enjoyed slices of the demo strudels fresh out of the oven. Stella ate my asparagus slice. “I know you don’t like asparagus,” she said.

She’s been helping herself to food I don’t like since preschool. It’s such a relief.

“You know, we did cooking classes together in kindergarten,” she said. “Even though we’re adults, we’re just building on the same skills. And we still can’t follow directions.”

We clinked forks to our success.

“The gluten break starts tomorrow,” she sighed.

“We still have to bake our other dough,” I said.

“The gluten break starts Monday.”

I made apple strudel at my parent’s house to take full advantage of their kitchen island. When I said I’d stretch my dough to cover the entire thing, my dad thought I was kidding. My mom filmed me on her phone with the intensity of someone documenting the moon landing. And my sister immediately requested multiple strudels for the holidays.

Challenge accepted.

Dough IV: Strudel! It's been a year since I took my first-ever baking class at our local world-famous food emporium, and since then I've slowly but surely expanded my doughy horizons.

#ann arbor #baking #bread #british bake-off #cooking #food

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xoheatherkw · 7 years ago

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Recipe For Fun

Written for @whisperilllistentohearit for the Riverdale Holiday Exchange 2017. Prompt- bughead cuteness. So I did bughead + baking and snuggling, since I thought that was pretty darn cute, and I hope you enjoy it. So much fluff!

P.S. Thank you @stillscape for hosting this!

Read on AO3 / FF

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Betty was curled up with Jughead on his couch, perfectly content to waste the day away and catch up on some much needed relaxation. It was the start of their winter break and her mother was busy following up on a story, which allowed her the opportunity to actually relax under the guise of working ahead on her school projects.

She was settled between his legs on the couch, her back pressed up against his chest. Every now and then, his fingertips would caress the back of her arm and she just snuggled further into his embrace.

Then she heard it.

A low grumble emanated from behind her, the low vibrations reaching her back. "Jug! How are you still hungry?" she asked. They had just eaten at Pop's about an hour ago, and he ate two cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and a large vanilla milkshake.

"I can't help it, Betts," he shrugged.

She turned in his grasp, before standing abruptly. She extended her hand to him and he laced their fingers together. She tugged him to an upright position and led them to his kitchen. "Come on, let's see what we can make."

She let go of their hands and started opening the cupboards. She let out a frustrated sigh when all she found was salt and pepper, an opened bag of brown sugar that had long since hardened to a rock, and a dusting of flour in a container that wasn't useful for any amount of baking.

She switched gears and inspected their fridge, but only discovered a handful of condiments and a nearly empty container of orange juice. She quickly closed the fridge with a sigh.

"Well this isn't going to work," she exasperated. "How do you two survive on ketchup and mustard?" she muttered.

He shrugged. The real answer was he survived on the kindness of Pop and the Andrews family, because if not for them he’d likely starve. "You know me, I manage," he replied, unsure if her question was rhetorical or not.

She rummaged through a few more cabinet and drawers, making a mental list of what they would need. Whisk, baking sheets, cooling rack, and all the ingredients to make… well anything.

She smirked at him and took him by the hand. “What do you say about us making chocolate chip cookies?”

Jughead immediately thought of the mouthwatering delicacies that were commonly found in the Cooper household. “I think I could be persuaded to bake,” he teased.

“Come on, we need to go to the grocery store. And maybe Mal-Mart.”

They bundled up and headed out.

Jughead placed his hand on her knee after he shifted into drive for the short trip to the grocery store, drawing small circles over her jeans.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They returned from their shopping venture with enough food to feed an army... Or the Jones men for maybe a week. Betty insisted that she make them a home cooked meal, and prepare several casseroles that they could pop in the oven for dinners during the week.

Jughead acquired quite the appetite while they were out shopping, so they picked up a pizza on their way back to his place.

Jughead carefully balanced all the bags from the grocery store and left Betty in charge of bringing in the pizza. Their shoes crunched over the light dusting of snow that accumulated since they left (luckily none stuck to the roads) as they rushed back inside to the warmth.

Betty set the pizza down on his coffee table and followed him into the kitchen. She selectively set out the ingredients they would need for chocolate chip cookies, while he put away the perishable items. She made sure to open the package of butter and set two sticks on the counter to soften.

"Did you mean to leave those out?" He asked.

"We need to let the butter soften."

"Why can't we just pop it in the microwave when we need it?"

"That will ruin the consistency."

"Of course," he remarked.

Semantics, he reasoned. But she was the one taking the lead on baking, so who was he to argue?

All the groceries and supplies were put away within a few minutes, and the pair spent a lazy hour curled up on the couch and eating pizza.

After the episode, Betty took his hand and stood up, bringing him with her. "Come on, Juggie. Time for cookies."

Helpless against her pleas, he trailed behind her.

She put on an apron (another item they needed in the Jones kitchen) and handed him the second. She got two identical aprons with a simple pattern, lemons and limes on an ivory background with a green border.

"I'll get the butter and vanilla going. Can you get me three-quarter cup each of sugar and brown sugar?"

She got out the electric mixer and tested the 'give' on the butter before opening the wrapper. It was the perfect consistency.

A second later, Jughead brought over a mix of sugar and brown sugar in one of the two cup measuring containers. He was about to pour it in, when she raised a hand to stop him.

"What's that?" She asked.

"Um, the sugar you asked for?" His tone ended the statement with a question.

"That's for liquids," she clarified.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But it's the same measurement. Why should it matter if it's in the larger measuring cup or not?"

She pressed get fingertips to her forehead. This was going to be more difficult than she realized. She looked back up at him and gently guided the measuring cup onto the counter. "The big measuring cup with the spout," she pointed at the one he used for the sugar. "That's used for liquids. The individual measuring cups are for solids." She pointed at the stacked cups next to the sugar she set out earlier. "You make sure you have an even amount by running a flat edge over it to make it level. Got it?"

"I think I can manage... Can we just use what I got out? Even though I used the wrong measuring cup?"

"That depends. Did you pack the brown sugar?"

The questioning look on his face told her the answer was likely no. So, she tried a different approach. "Have you done any baking before?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Not exactly. I can cook. Granted only a handful of things like grilled cheese, and eggs… sometimes. But the Jones family doesn't really bake," he admitted.

She smiled warmly at him. "Well then, it's time to change that. Don't you think?"

With that bright smile, he couldn't resist anything she asked of him.

She helped him get the sugar. Then once he got the hang of that, she showed him how to crack an egg without getting the shell into the batter (something he still hadn't mastered in the few times he made eggs for breakfast).

She left him to his own devices to get their flour, and he only spilled a few times while trying to get an even layer before tossing it into the mix.

It wasn't long before they had cookie dough ready to go. They just needed to divide it up into baking sheets and put them in the oven.

Their playful touches throughout his baking lesson left them wearing a bit of the flour and sugar as well. He brushed up next to her, secretly swiping his index finger into the cookie dough. "I think you have a little something, right here." He swiped the cookie dough on her cheek, delighted with himself that he got away with it before she noticed.

She swatted his hand away and glared at him. "I don't think you know who has the upper hand here," she challenged. "We only bought enough chocolate chips for one batch, and I haven't given you the recipe yet." She didn't volunteer that the recipe she used, but memorized probably ten years earlier, was the one on the back of the chocolate chip cookie bag.

His eyes widened, and he tried to tell if she was joking or not. After a split second of internal deliberations, he figured he would rather not risk it. "I concede." He threw his hands up in surrender. "Can we go back to making the cookies? Please?" He added for good measure.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Alright."

The tiniest dab of cookie dough was still on her cheek, so he swiped it off and popped it in his mouth, savoring the sweetness.

"Jug! You can't eat raw cookie dough."

"Says who?"

"The board of health for one." She playfully shoved his shoulder. "And because I say so. Just help me with the cookies."

She got out two spoons and handed him one. "Just get small rounded teaspoon full and drop them on the baking sheet."

She got a few on the sheet and looked over to see Jughead's were about three sizes too big. She laughed and corrected him.

"Why can't I have large cookies, Betts?" He protested.

"They won't cook evenly, that's why," she teased back.

They put the first two baking sheets in the oven, having to wait until the baking sheets were free again to bake the remainder.

Jughead nibbled on a few within a minute of taking them out of the oven, which just got a shake of her head at his impatience.

They got the second half in the oven, and as Jughead stood upright, she placed the (now nearly empty) mixing bowl over his head. His beanie was long discarded, as to not get flour all over it.

She stifled a laugh as she caught the sight of his black curls underneath the bowl. "You started it Jug," she reminded him.

He had a wicked grin as he removed said bowl and chased her back into the living room and tickled her in retaliation.

They spent the rest of their afternoon laughing and just enjoying each other's company, snuggled up on the couch for the remainder of the evening. Betty occasionally found a small remnant of cookie dough when she ran her fingers through his hair.

He didn't mind though. He was happier to spend his time stealing kisses in between their TV watching marathon, and only bothered to shower and wash his hair after she left late in the evening.

~ ~ The next day ~ ~

Betty was coming over later that day. Her mother was out following up on another story, so she didn’t even have to make up an excuse. But knowing Betty she would probably actually make them study, or work ahead on their assignments, which they neglected to do the day before. Not that he minded.

After her little baking lesson, Jughead was determined to show off his newly found culinary skills by making a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Betty was kind enough to start a recipe collection on a few index cards, in one of their kitchen drawers; although she was insistent on getting them a recipe box, so they wouldn’t get misplaced.

Jughead even made a late-night trip to the grocery store the night prior and stocked up on more chocolate chips, sugar, and flour. Especially after he spilled a good portion of the dry ingredients on the counter.

He prepared a batch of cookies, with a few mishaps- getting egg shells in the batter, spilling flour, accidentally melting and nearly burning the butter because he was too impatient for it to soften, and wearing a handful of the ingredients on his flannel shirt.

He successfully shaped the cookies in teaspoon sized (because Betty insisted that they wouldn’t cook evenly if he made them the size that he wanted to), and placed them in the oven. He started cleaning up and eventually went to change clothes.

Apparently, he forgot to set the timer, and only realized it a few minutes too late when he removed the baking sheets to discover the cookies were burnt to a crisp. They went into the trash, and he started another batch of cookies.

He promptly took them out when the timer went off, and was about to taste test the cookies when he heard a few knocks at the door.

He rushed over and opened the door for Betty.

“Hi Juggie,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

“Hey Betts,” he whispered into her hair.

“Mmm, are you making cookies?” She pulled back a little and looked over his shoulder, seeing the edge of baking sheets cooling on the stovetop.

“Yeah, I just took them out,” he said proudly. “Come on, you have to try one.”

“Don’t tell me you ate all the cookies we made yesterday?” The batch made five dozen, and they ate about a dozen between the two of them.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sly smile. Between late night snacks and breakfast, the Jones men polished off the remaining cookies earlier that day.

He pulled her by the hand into the kitchen. He carefully lifted one of the cookies with a spatula, and placed it in his hand to test how hot it was. Finding it acceptable to the touch, yet still hot, he handed it over to her.

“You’re cute, you know that?” She smirked and accepted it from him. She took a small bite, mindful of the temperature.

Her cheerful expression fell to one of confusion. She promptly spit out the cookie into his trashcan, and the remaining cookie along with it. “I think you forgot something Jug.”

He looked around the counter, moving the mixing bowl and discovering the untouched container of white sugar. “Oh,” he muttered under his breath. He was wondering why this batch was slightly smaller than his previously attempted batch of about five dozen, and why the cookies were a little darker than normal. At least he remembered the brown sugar.

“Yeah, oh. You forgot to add the sugar, Jug.” She chuckled a little and helped him dispose of the cookies. “Maybe I shouldn’t leave you to your own devices in the kitchen after all,” she concluded.

“Ha ha,” he said dryly.

She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Come on, let’s make a batch together,” she offered.

He wrapped her up in a hug circled his arms around her waist, running his fingertips on the small of her back, where her shirt had lifted and exposed her skin. “Have I ever told you what a great girlfriend you are,” he muttered. He placed a gentle kiss to the crook of her neck, pleased when she shivered slightly.

She sighed happily and tilted her head up. She kissed his lips, smiling into the kiss. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

#riverdaleholiday2017 #bughead fanfiction #bughead fic #betty x jughead #bughead #xoheatherkwfics #so much fluff

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marianneforbes · 8 years ago

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A response to “36 things wrong with American women”.

Up until now I have spent most of my time bashing feminists and SJW, so I figured I would balance it out a little bit with some bashing of stupid men. For those of you who don’t know who Roosh V is, he is a YouTube creator and pick-up artist who, despite trying his best, can’t seem to grab the attention of beautiful women. This has led him to become quite bitter. He is the creator of the site ‘Return of Kings’, where he has gained quite a following from other likeminded men. He also has had to deal with his fare shae of problems, tlike being denied big muscled white men in movies, and instead female leads (Mad Max Fury Road and Star Wars Episode VII).

Original video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCm8C21pXdQ

Number 1: They’re fat. Fat girls are simply unattractive, so why should you waste time dating a fat chick?

Some men do find chubby girls attractive. It’s true that fat people are generally not considered that attractive, and for good reasons too. However, women are not the only fat ones. Last time I checked, men can be obese too.

Number 2: They’re constantly glued to their smart phones. These girls are addicted to an electronic device and are less capable of human interaction.

Well, surfing on the internet on your phone while you’re sitting on a bus or train is a way to kill the time, especially if you’re alone. Are you telling me that American men are not?

Number 3: They cut their hair short. They are so lazy to maintain long hair that they make themselves ugly on purpose.

Long hair can be quite difficult to maintain, and cost a lot of money. Also, some women simply do look better in short hair. If your head size is on the thin side, a short haircut will give your face a lift and make it look rounder. Also, what is a short haircut to you? Does shoulder’s length long hair count as short or does it qualify as long?

Number 4: They are more impressed with the crappy DJ or instagram celebrity than a doctor who saves lives.

Actually, most women want financial security, so the doctor has a bigger chance of scoring when it comes to long lasting relationships. Maybe the DJ has better chances of scoring a one-night stand.

Number 5: They think being overly sarcastic is a quality that men love. Wrong. Sarcasm is rude and doesn’t show that you have a good sense of humor.

I agree that being overly sarcastic is not a good trait, though the same goes for men! However, sometimes it can be a good coping mechanism for when you’re really down, and that is fine.

Number 6: They listen to stupid websites when it comes to pleasing men.

Yes, but it’s more for fun. We look at them and then have a good laugh with our friends over how stupid those sites are. Mostly we listen to friends and family members when we want to be serious.

Number 7: They don’t know how to cook. Their idea of cooking is using the microwave or preparing macaroni & cheese, and some women don’t even know how to do that.

Cooking takes time, and the majority of people don’t have the time to spend all day long preparing a delicious gourmet dinner.

Number 8: They wear flip flops when they’re not on the beach, or not at the pool, or not in their house. Flip flops are the laziest footwear that you could put on, and it screams to the world that you simply don’t care.

And what obligation do women have to care what other people think about them? No, I would never wear flip flops outside of the beach/pool, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell others what they shouldn’t wear. To each his own.

Number 9: They have condoms in their dresser, because they are fully prepared to sleep with random men. A man only wants a girl to be a slut for himself not the entire town.

Let me tell you something you probably didn’t know: Women can get pregnant from sex.

Number 10: They idolize drug addicted celebrities aiming to mimic their braindead behavior. The role models for today’s girl is Kim Kardashian, not a woman who have achieved things in life.

What women would you like them to worship? Kim Kardashian, for all the shit she gets, has achieved things in life. She is the owner of her own company and has designed her own brand.

Number 11: They acquire pets instead of putting in to work to woo a quality man. When a woman gives up in life she buys a dog. This is sad.

Not all women get a dog when they give up on life. Some women get a cat.

But in all seriousness, pets have proven to reduce stress and are great therapy. Why shouldn’t a woman be allowed to have a pet? If all men were like you (thankfully they aren’t), can you really blame them for preferring a pet to a man?

Number 12: They don’t know how to be sexy and feminine, only trashy and slutty. Modern day women have no idea how to be a lady on the streets.

What on earth are you talking about? Not all women wants to be feminine. Some of them want to be more masculine. And how are they acting trashy and slutty?

Number 13: They have standards that are way beyond their attractiveness. Even an average girl thinks that she should land her prince charming.

As much as I hate to say this, I do agree with this. However, it should be noted that men do this as well, so it’s a two way street (you seem to be one of those men).

Number 14: They think that having a good job means that they are a quality girl and a good catch. News flash, guys don’t care about your stupid office job.

So let me get this straight: Women should care about your fancy doctor-education, but men don’t have to care about ours’?

Number 15: They wear pajamas in public. This is retarded.

Do they, or are you just talking about them wearing jump suits when they go for a quick errand to the store?

Number 16: They enjoy books like Twilight, Fifty Shades of Grey and The Secret. They are addicted to braindead entertainment that makes them dumber.

Those books are easy to read and doesn’t require much thinking. They serve one purpose and one purpose only: fulfilling the desire and sexual fantasies of women.

Are you telling me men don’t enjoy “braindead” entertainment just for the sake of entertainment?

Number 17: Their idea of traveling is going to a beach or France. They have no idea how to use travel to learn about other cultures.

You’re only half right. Women do enjoy culture, and mostly when they travel they do both.

Also, what is wrong with France? France has a rich history, beautiful culture and good food. Paris is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I make a trip there every second year.

Number 18: They have too many trashy tattoos. Too many American women these days look like prison convicts.

Believe it or not, they are allowed to have those tattoos. Some men find it attractive, while others don’t. I doubt most men care, though.

Number 19: They are proud to be dating many men at the same time, as if they were men themselves. These days women have no shame in hiding the facts that they are sluts.

If both parties are comfortable with it, who are you or I to judge?

Number 20: They do and say things in bed even the first time that you have sex with them, as if they were an immature porn actress. You know that they are doing that to every other guy as well?

Then stop being a pussy and tell them that it doesn’t turn you on!

Number 21: They cock block their own girlfriends when they are jealous. They can’t have it that their friends meet someone while they don’t.

Yes, there are some women who do this, and it’s shitty and annoying as fuck. I can give you this one. Luckily none of the women I know are like this.

Number 22: They make lame excuses for not putting effort into their appearances. It’s seems like a raise to the bottom for every girl to look as homely as possible.

Women have no obligation to anyone to put effort into appearance, especially not for you.

Number 24: They always lie the first time you get them in bed by saying “I’ve never done this before”. You know that’s a lie, but they continue saying that for every guy they sleep with.

Considering how you only a few posts ago said that you only want them to be a slut for you, are you really that surprised?

By the way, where is point number 23?

Number 25: They confuse being a challenge by being whiny and annoying. They have no idea how stupid they look when they give men a hard time for spending time with them.

I’m guessing you are talking about all those women rejecting you when you walk up to them and expect them to just fall into your arms. They are not obligated to spend time with you, and the one looking like a fool is you, not them!

Number 26: They watch way too much TV, letting it influence their personalities. When you go on a date with an American girl, you are really dating a combination of characters she has seen on television.

Huh? This doesn’t make any sense at all.

Number 27: On their way home from their comfortable office job, they take off their work shoes and put on dirty sneakers. They have no idea how much of a slob the look when they do this.

WHAT? Maybe they change their shoes because they don’t want to ruin their good shoes, and because it’s more comfortable walking home in sneakers as well as easier to run in in case someone jumped on them.

Number 28: They age their skin prematurely to fake tans. Maybe they’ll look like this week or next month, but in a few years’ time they are going to look like a razor.

Considering how you have in many of your points been calling them “girls” instead of “women”, indicating that you don’t view them as adults, can you blame them?

Number 29: They insist on eating pizza or other fattening food after a night of binge drinking. And then they wonder why they are so fat.

Because greasy food clears up the head, and balances out the amount of alcohol. Greasy food is a great and tasty cure for hangover.

Number 30: They are obsessed with cupcakes. An American woman gets satisfaction from eating tiny baked goods.

Cupcakes are delicious. Enough said.

Number 31: They care more about maintaining a career than a good home or family. She has made money the most important part of her life, more than having kids or a good husband.

Unless the husband is the CEO of a large company, it is almost a requirment for the woman to work so the family can survive and for the kids to have a bright future. Besides, raising a family takes time and dedication, and if you don’t feel up to the task then you are doing the responsible thing to not start a family. The world is over-populated anyway, we don’t need more brats to ruin it. One final thing before we move on, you are not a good man so I doubt you’d be a good husband. If a woman wants kids and a good husband, you’re not the man she would go for.

Number 32: They rarely wear high heels, one of the most feminine behaviors that a woman can do.

Have you ever worn high heels? Because if you did, you would know that they are extremely uncomfortable, and bad for your back and posture. Why should a woman put your pleasure above her health? Neither is it a requirement for a woman to be feminine.

Now, I wear high heels on a regular basis because I am quite short, but I don’t blame women who don’t want to wear it. It takes time getting used to.

Number 33: They think dining out and eating food slathered with butter and salt makes them cultured, and they call themselves a foodie while they do it. It just makes them fat instead.

Ditch the woman if she’s so stupid, or just tell her that it doesn’ make her cultural.

Number 34: They don’t speak any foreign languages. They think that America is at the center of the universe.

Olen huomannut että suuri osa Amerikkalaisista uskovat näin, ei vain naisia. Ovat varmasti Amerikkalaiset, jotka tietävät että maailmassa on muita maita, mutta se on stereotyyppi, että eniten heistä eivät tiedä tavallisesta geografiasta.

Eller hur? I Hetalia så bestod ju Amerikas världskarta av bara Amerika.

If a woman speaks more than two languages, English is most likely the foreign language she speaks, while the language that’s foreign to you is her mother tongue.

Number 35: Their intellectual curiosity doesn’t go beyond the pages of Gocker or Buzzfeed. To get them to actually learn about the truths of the world is impossible:

I think most women understand that those sites are garbage. It’s just fun to look at them and poke fun of them.

Number 36: They go on and on about the stupidest personal drama and nonsense, thinking that the day to day things that they come across are critically important to anyone else.

What are they supposed to talk about? The presidential election? I don’t know if you are aware of that, but that subject is a downer? As is the situation in the Middle East. Important stuff as both of those subjects are, you can’t expect a person to only focus on it.

#misogyny #sexism #roosh v

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bike42 · 5 years ago

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Paris. September 5-11, 2019

Thursday September 5, 2019

Not my “usual” kind of adventure, but I’m traveling to Paris / London to celebrate Bailey’s 30th birthday. Her birthday isn’t until November 22nd, but I thought the weather would be better in September (I decided that when Jeff and I were in Paris in the rain/cold in May).

We left Madison about noon yesterday, had a layover in Detroit (nachos and beer at the bar there), and then an uneventful flight over the pond, even in coach! I watched the three episodes of season 2 of “Big Little Lies,” then we both watched “Crazy Rich Asians,” before I tried unsuccessfully to sleep. Ended up just playing Black Jack through breakfast until we landed, just after 7am local time (7 hours ahead). It doesn’t help me with jet lag to think about what time it is at home!

I think because of construction, we off loaded down the stairs (like the Caribbean) and onto buses, which dropped us off at the terminal where we were directed up the stairs and into a long queue for border control. We had about the same wait as when we left Paris last May (>1 hour!). From there to baggage claim where our bags had arrived earlier and were just sitting there - yikes! From there, we began the long walk/escalator trip to the train. I’d done this before, but in my research last week I found a guy who’d posted the whole experience step by step with photos, so having just viewed that, and following the words “to the train” in English made it easy! Some issues with the kiosk to get tickets, but Bailey figured that out. Then down to the platform and to the train. We picked one with lots of stops, but through Gare du Nord with no issues and 2 stops later we got off at the station in the Latin Quarter, just 600m from our hotel.

It was a beautiful day, and we rolled our bags up and down Rue des Écoles a bit until we got oriented enough to figure out the numbers (normal anywhere). We got to our hotel just after 10:30am, not expecting to check in, but delighted when we were able to!

We got settled in our little room (emphasis on little - especially the shower!), the the beds were just too inviting. 90 minute naps, and while we were still groggy, we hauled ourselves out onto the street. Amazing location!

We walked just two blocks and came upon a little market, and stopped in a cafe. Bailey got her first crack at ordering from the menu. She learned she doesn’t like “cafe americano,” she needs to order cafe creme, and her Mac and cheese with salmon was a bit too fishy for her. I had an omelet with salad and fries, and black coffee the way I like it!

With full bellies, we set off, just two more blocks and we were at the Seine, gazing out at what was left of Notre-Dame after the fire last spring. I had to pull a photo up on my phone to compare what it had looked like. The roof and the spire are gone. What’s most striking however is the scaffolding. What remains is the scaffolding that was there for the repairs that started the fire. We learned later that the heat of the fire fused it together and the immediate challenge is what to do with it! The whole block is cordoned off, so it’s best viewed from the left bank of the river.

From there, we continued our stroll along the Seine. Bailey was intrigued with the “Left Bank booksellers,” just like I always am. Good to have a fellow traveler that doesn’t mind poking around like that! We crossed the Pont Neuf and headed towards the Louvre. Initially we set out just to see that, and then we were going to turn back. But the closer we got to things, the more excited Bailey was to see everything, so we just kept going! When we saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance, she wanted to make a beeline for that! I told her it was further than it looked, but she was determined. We walked there and back! I’d changed into tennis shoes, but she was in sandals and got a big blister on the bottom of her foot (didn’t complain though!).

We strolled back along Boulevard St Germaine and stopped at a Brasserie to recharge, with salads, water and wine. Then an easy walk back where we collapsed into bed. Walked over 12 miles today!

Friday September 6, 2019

I’d pre-booked an excursion for us today, not really considering jet lag. We fell asleep easily, but up at midnight, 1am, 2am, etc. Alarm went off at 6, and of course I was sleeping then! We got up and we were back on the street before 7am. Grabbed a coffee and croissants from Starbucks and headed down into the metro station, emerging near the Eiffel Tour about 20 minutes later. Quick walk to the tour office helped us wake up, and we arrived with lots of time to spare and browse the brochures to see what else we might want to do this week. I’d booked this excursion online through Viator and it worked great.

Soon our guide, Mechell, arrived and we headed off to the van, with 4 folks (sisters and husbands) from St Louis and another couple from Ohio. All the folks awaiting various were older (70s), not a lot of families traveling right now. We loaded into a VW van and headed out towards Giverny and Monet’s garden. Mechell was a great guide, talking about French history and art, and pointing out sites along the way. We approached through the back country, little farming villages a lot like what we’ve cycled through in Europe. We didn’t go through Vernon or see the river, soon we were just in the familiar parking lot.

We arrived about 9:30am and there was practically no one there yet. We quickly viewed the house and used the bathroom (Bailey for the first time saw that “no squatting on the toilet” sign) and then crowds started to descend. We enjoyed the gardens, shopped a bit, and still had 30 minutes to explore the little artist village. We walked to the church when Monet and his family are buried before walking back and joining the group.

Back in the van for about 15 minutes, then we arrived at our lunch stop. I thought lunch might be a sandwich and coke somewhere, but it was a three course lunch with wine. Beautiful venue, along a little stream and a house that had been a mill. Great food and conversation with our delightful little group (Bailey may not have been the most excited, but as for random trip mates, these were great).

Back in the van, and in about 30 minutes more we were arriving at Versailles. It was a beautiful day and I was glad to learn we were able to tour the garden too. Mechell had left us on our own at Monet’s, but she was our guide at Versailles, first in the garden and then all through the palace. This was my 4th time here, and I hadn’t seen it this sparsely crowded - some bottlenecks here and there, but not too bad. I had forgotten how extensive the garden is, what we saw just barely scratched the surface.

Back in the van, and Mechell was willing to drop us wherever, so we had her drop us near the Galleria Lafayette to do some shopping. The crowds and size of the store overwhelmed Bailey a bit, so we bagged the idea of shopping and started walking back towards our part of Paris, deciding we’d find dinner on our way.

We decided to stop at an Italian restaurant. I screwed up my salad order (octopus!), but we also had a nice bottle of Chianti, a pizza and Bailey had pretty standard looking spaghetti with meat sauce. It was a fun scene to watch - people parading by on the street. Towards the end of our meal, light rain started! I put up my umbrella, rather than trying to move inside. It was quick light rain anyway.

We wandered through neighborhoods a bit as we snaked our way back; lots of action being Friday night!

Super exhausted again as we fell into our beds.

Saturday September 7, 2019

We slept in this morning and missed breakfast, but found a cafe on the river where we could still get omelets.

Last night I bought 2 day passes for the Hop On Hop Off Big Bus, which had a stop right outside our cafe. Before boarding, we also bought tickets for the night ride for this evening.

We rode the bus along the Seine, up and down the Champs-Elysees, getting off in front of the Grand Palais. From there, we walk through the Jardins des Champs-Elysees and around the Place de la Concorde, working our way over towards the opera where we jumped on the Big Bus blue line up to Montmartre. We rode through Pigalle and past Moulin Rouge, getting off near Square Louise-Michel and walking the steps up to Sacre-Couer.

It was very crowded with folks just hanging out on the steps, eating picnics and enjoying the day. We saw our first “yellow vest protest,” and while they had some signs, it looked more like a family picnic. We hung out for a bit just watching people and chilling out.

I remembered when I was here long ago, we’d walked though an area where artists were painting and selling their work. We cut to the right and came to a beautiful square where we saw exactly that. Many doing charachtures or portraits on the spot, but some other really good painters. Felt right to see that happening in Paris!

Back on the bus, Saturday evening traffic was crazy so it took quite awhile to get back to the opera stop, but it’s always so enlightening to view the city from the top of the open air bus. I’d seen this before, but it’s so funny to transition from Pigalle and the sex shops to just around the corner and there is a block of wedding dress shops!

Back to the opera stop, then we walked down to the Louvre and took a right, all the way through the gardens to the Champs-Elysees. Lots of families out enjoying the gorgeous evening.

We had about 2 hours before the 9pm night bus tour, so we settled in at the Pierre Hermès cafe that was part of the L’Occitane store for a great dinner and bottle of wine. Only negative part was being surrounded by cigarette smokers, but we were having dinner outside on the Champs-Elysees!

Boarded our bus and got great seats on top for the 2+ hour after dark trip. It got cooler as the night went on, and by the time we stopped to see the Eiffel Tower light show from the Trocadero, we were ready to be done. Unfortunately the tour also ended at the top of the Champs-Elysees, 3 miles from our hotel. Given the late hour, we walked down to the end of the boulevard and hailed an Uber - easy way to get back to our hotel about midnight!

Sunday September 8, 2019

As we boarded our bus yesterday, we were told there would be a route “disruption” today due to the women’s race (we’d seen the setup for it on Friday by the Eiffel Tower). Good excuse to be pokey ourselves.

I got tickets for a 12:30pm climb to the second tier of the tower, so we had our Starbucks breakfast and jumped on the metro. When we got out, we could hear the excitement of the “La Parisienne” run - might have been a breast cancer run, reputed to have 1000 musicians along the 7km course! We walked along the course for quite a ways, finally found a space where we could dart through the runners and get to the inside for our tower climb.

We got into the now secured area under the Eiffel Tower a bit early. As we climbed to the first tier, I had a minor panic attack, not being a fan of heights. I looked down to see how high we were, and up to see how far we had to go yet, and thought about what this tower was made of and how old it was. Then I just rationalized that today was probably not the day it was going down and kept plugging along. It was a beautiful view, and fun to see the race going on all around us below.

We walked all around the first tier, then climbed the stairs to the second tier, and the view was even more spectacular. Didn’t dally there though, and we had to walk back down and catch the elevator down from the first level. Good tour and I’m glad we did it.

The streets were still blocked because of the run, so we had some time until the buses would be running again. We got crepes and a bottle of water and sat by the Seine for a bit, then decided to walk over and check out the Trocadero and it’s fountains. Windy day, so the fountains felt like rain.

We got to the top, and saw our Big Bus there, so we got on board to finish the tour of the red route. From nowhere, we had a few raindrops and they handed out free plastic ponchos so we put those on and stayed on top. Most of the tour we were already quite familiar with, but we stayed onboard to see what they’d say anyway. Disappointing that 6 months after the fire, they hadn’t changed the language about touring Norte-Dame and they still talk about climbing the tower, etc.

We continued the ride and got off at the top of the Champs-Elysees, and walked through the tunnel under the round about, coming out at the Arc de Triomphe. It was chilly and very windy, and they had much of it blocked off. We took a quick gander and enjoyed watching the traffic spin around. We noticed a bike event, where about a 100 riders wearing the same jersey were huddled with bikes and support vehicles, but couldn’t tell what it was from across the street.

We headed back through the tunnel, and then saw a few riders walking towards us, while the others had crossed the Champs-Elysees and were now mulling around along with the French police. Their jerseys said “Bike to Paris” and they appeared to be a Legion group from the UK. The police stopped traffic on the roundabout, and led them across to the Arc - much horn beeping from the stopped traffic, that I don’t think was of the supportive nature!

We got back on the Big Bus, and spun around the Arc again - should have gone back over to check out what ever kind of ceremony was happening!

Rode just down to the next stop at Petite Palace, then walked across the river to the Orsay museum. I’d been there before, but was happy to go back. The Orsay is a renovated train depot that hosts the paintings of the impressionists Monet and Renoir, Van Gogh, Degas as well as many sculptures. The building itself is a work of art! It closed at 6pm, but we entered at about 4:45pm without much wait, and we were able to kick it into turbo to see most of the paintings and enjoy the amazing building.

Afterwards we walked back to the Latin Quarter, and stopped at an Italian restaurant where we enjoyed salad, pizza and maybe too much wine.

Monday September 9, 2019

Everyone knows that the Louvre is closed on Tuesdays, so I’d bought us Monday tickets in advance, which is actually a smooth easy process!

We had breakfast at a nearby cafe, then strolled an easy walk to the Louvre and got in a bit early actually. We rented headphones and set out for the self guided tour. We stumbled upon all we wanted to see, and at the winged victory sculpture I recalled how to get to the Mona Lisa from there, so we followed the crowd that seemed to be heading there. Much to all of our dismay (tour guides too), she’d been moved - completely to the other side. We finished off that section, really enjoying some French work by Delaroix that Bailey had studied in art history. Then set off to find ML. Our hunt took us to parts of the Louvre I’d never before been in, and found it quite interesting. At the end, we finally learned that we had to exit back through the pyramid, stand in a separate line and follow that line up escalators to the 4th floor of the Richelieu wing, and there she was. It was a smooth and rather entertaining process actually.

By 3pm, we’d had all we could take. We left and got a sandwich, water and coffee and browsed around in some high end shops before staggering back towards our hotel. We stopped at a brasserie near our hotel and Bailey had a cheeseburger, while I had yummy French onion soup!

Tuesday September 10, 2019

Last full day in Paris. Started our day with Starbucks and the metro again to get over to the Eiffel Tower neighborhood. We walked through the Rue Clar markets, was fun to recall being here for several fun dinners with JT and mom & dad 4 years ago. Also saw flower shops that looked like they had flowers direct from the warehouse we saw in Holland last year!

We went to the Invalides, which is a collection of military museums, a veterans hospital (past and current), and a cathedral with Napoleon’s tomb. Jeff and I had been here before, but most of what we saw today was new to me. Most amazing was the Musée DeL’Ordre De La Liberation, which told the story of resistance workers during WWII, both the resistance effort, and the deportation to concentration camps for those who were found out. I’ve been to Dachau and the Holocaust museum, but this display was very different. Though few likely survived, this display showed their resistance side, a resourcefulness versus being victims, even after they were captured. Most haunting where the sketches of fellow prisoners, with dates and locations. There was also a handmade set of playing cards and a little domino set made out of clay.

After several hours, we grabbed a sandwich in the cafe, then took a walk over to the Rodin house and garden. This was also new to me and I enjoyed it, plus it was a spectacular day to be outside today! The house is an amazing early 18th century mansion, and Rodin started by renting rooms there for his workshop, and ended up with the whole thing (which he donated along with many castings of his works). As a lover of art, he also has a few Van Gogh and Monet paintings in his collection!

By 5p we were thoroughly exhausted, 6 days of walking over 10 miles per day (many of those at a killer shuffling pace). I had all I could do to make it back to the Latin Quarter (so tempting to jump on a bike or electric scooter and fly back). We found another Italian restaurant and enjoyed salad, pasta, pizza and a bottle of wine.

Back early to shower and organize our stuff. Early train to London tomorrow!

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nebsabroad-blog · 7 years ago

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When I say Zanzi you say Bar. Zanzi...No? Anyone? (there were creative differences over the title of this blog)

Zanzibar did not disappoint. We ended up extending our stay here twice because it was everything we wanted it to be…perfect weather, perfect beaches and enough to keep you interested. Our itinerary was a couple nights on the island’s capital, Stone Town, before heading off to one of the beaches for tan time.

To get there we took a 2 hour ferry from Dar during which Ariel was not sick, this is worth noting and celebrating.

Stone Town is like a little Arabian city (I was reliably informed by Ariel). It is this crazy rabbit warren of a place; tiny streets that go on all directions (except straight) that are banked by beautiful old buildings with arches for windows. It is impossible to not get lost but it turns out getting lost in Stone Town and wandering its atmospheric streets is pretty much the best thing to do. For instance on one excursion, we took a turn down a narrow street where a Mosque was emptying out after Friday prayers. Ariel managed to be the only woman around for what seemed like miles, let alone the only foreigner. Another interesting experience.

On our first day we managed (after many consultations of the map, a handful of arguments and with the good grace of many locals who took pity on us) to find Lukman restaurant which is a bit of a must see. Like a bustling bazaar with no menu so you just go up to the counter and point and hope. Luckily everything was delicious. I had prawns the size of my face for £4 a piece.

Zanzibar’s history is blighted by slavery. It was the hub for slave trading to the East (mostly for the Gulf I think) and this story is well told in the island’s new slavery museum. This was the only real activity we did. We spent the next two days mostly getting hopelessly lost and eating. One thing we consumed was Zanzibar pizza which frankly is not a pizza or anywhere close to it. It is Bric pastry filled with: minced beef, garlic, laughing cow cheese, an egg, mayonnaise and then fried on a flat top. It sounds disgusting but was strangely delicious.

After ticking off Stone Town, we went to tourist information to find out about the local transports (dalla dallas) to Jambiani - the beach we were staying at. The (black) man behind the counter basically said we wouldn’t want to go on them because that is what locals took and we would surely prefer to take a shared taxi with other “white people.” He made it sound like taking a dalla dalla (which we had done all through Africa) was asking to get robbed. Not only racist in the extreme but of course completely false. The dalla dalla we got was packed to Malawi levels…the Korean man opposite me pleading “no no no we go, we go please” as another person squeezed on. But the journey was fine and took only 45 minutes which was half as long as the tourist information guy said.

The next week won’t take long to summarise. Every day went: wake up, breakfast, lie on beach or at pool (you heard, we had a pool), maybe walk, eat lunch, lie, eat dinner, watch episode of Handmaid’s tale (which we got given by fellow traveller in Malawi), sleep.

We met a lovely Danish/Scottish family who are living in Tanzania. The Mum (Amy) had a very distinctive Glasgow accent so the intro went the classic way: Me: “you from Glasgow”, Amy: “yes, you?” Me: “yes” both us internally “we shall be friends.”

We hung out with them for 5 days. The highlight with them was when their 5 year old, Olaf, asked Ariel what she was reading. She replied the “underground railroad.” He asked what it was about and Ariel then started very earnestly explaining to Olaf about America’s history of slavery. After a 5 minute lesson into the finer points of the rights of man Olaf looked blank and then informed us that “well I’m reading Dr. Proctor’s fart powder and it’s really good.” Those two are pretty much on a par.

Our time with the family reached a nadir when we dragged them (2 adults, 3 children from 5-11) to try find a cave we had heard about from two other backpackers. This was supposed to be an easy walk but it turned into Leonardo DiCaprio’s search for the Beach. After getting lost we asked many locals about the cave and all of them looked at as blankly. We proceeded to drag this (got to be said) very white family through the blazing heat on and on. They were forced to abandon when the 5 year old very understandably started flagging (as we all were). Ariel and I then proceeded to walk a further 2km before asking another nice man about the cave who informed us we were walking in completely the wrong direction. Luckily his mate turned up in a nice 4x4 and dropped us pretty much at the door of the place. Fortunately, the cave was worth the hassle. It was a beautiful cavern with stalactites/mites that at the bottom had this clear impossibly clear pool of water that we couldn’t distinguish from the rocks until we were right above it. The water was amazing…until little pondskater-come-woodlice started crawling on us which prompted some screaming and blind panic entirely from me.

There were not many other mishaps on the island. And we left feeling we had had a holiday from our holiday. After 8 nights we felt ready to get back on the road (which in typical style started off with a mad dash across the island to catch a ferry, extreme sweat, a couple arguments and a lot of panic…we were hopelessly late but by some miracle got on the boat).

Ariel was not sick on the return journey, this too is worth noting and celebrating.

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nancygduarteus · 7 years ago

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How Therapy Can Cure Overeating

Melissa Rivera always turned off the cameras before she binged. Newly married to a husband who traveled frequently, the 23-year-old med student, who had recently moved six hours from her friends and family, comforted herself with food. “I’d get this whole pizza that I would eat myself,” she says. Each time, she turned off the house’s security system so her husband wouldn’t see the coping mechanism she’d used since she was eight years old. “At some point, I realized, ‘This is killing me. I cannot do it anymore,’” she says. She sought help from counselors at the University of Texas, where she was a student.

Rivera suffered from binge eating disorder (BED), but says the school’s experts weren’t able to help. She says a school dietitian encouraged the very behavior that kicks off the bingeing cycle: restriction. “‘You have to eat so many grams of meat, you have to eat at most a cube of cheese per day,’” Rivera recalls the dietitian telling her. “I never did what she said.” Finally, at the end of 2016, Rivera searched online and connected with Edward Tyson, a local eating disorder specialist. But after years of struggle, she was skeptical about how much he could help. “Everything sounded like a beautiful promise, but it seemed impossible that he’d get me to this nice place that he was talking about,” Rivera says. “I’m happy to say that he did.” She has been binge-free since January.

One out of every 35 adults suffers from binge eating disorder, almost twice the combined rate for anorexia and bulimia. It is characterized by repeated episodes of eating large quantities of food quickly and to the point of discomfort; a feeling of a loss of control during the binge; and guilt following the binge, but without any consistent purging behavior. Up to 40 percent of people trying to lose weight suffer from BED and up to 70 percent of patients with BED are medically obese.

The good news is that BED is highly treatable, particularly with the help of cognitive behavioral therapy: Nearly 80 percent of patients abstain from bingeing after 20 sessions. And, unlike most calorie-restricting diets, the success of CBT holds for many patients over time.

However, a 2013 study in Biological Psychiatry found that less than half of lifetime bingers receive treatment. There are millions of overweight Americans who could find actual sustainable help with their eating issues—and not berate themselves for a lack of “willpower”—if more clinicians could identify the disorder and recommend treatment.

I suffered from the disorder myself from about high school until my early 20s. Ever anxious to lose a few pounds, I’d put myself on a strict diet, then eventually give in to temptation and eat as much as I could of whatever I could get—a whole pizza, cookies nabbed from someone’s pantry, a family-sized combo of General Tso’s chicken with fried rice and egg rolls. My mentality was that the next day I’d start the diet anew, so I “might as well” eat as much as possible since who knew when I’d ever have that food again. With many ups and downs, between the ages of 18 and 25 I put on nearly 50 pounds.

BED is an equal opportunity disorder, affecting men, women, young, old, and all races. However, the recent Netflix eating disorder film To The Bone is a microcosm of the short shrift BED is given in popular culture. The movie focuses on a waifish, big-eyed anorexic staying in a residential treatment home, zooming in to ogle one patient with a feeding tube and a bulimic who keeps a bag of vomit under her bed. The presence of BED is hardly acknowledged; one overweight character, Kendra, suffers from it, but she has only a handful of lines, and is otherwise unexplored, an unexplained jar of peanut butter her main companion. At one point, Kendra tries to join a conversation with fellow patients but a rude housemate shuts her down with “Sorry: This conversation is for rexies only.” Even though in real life the bingers far outnumber anorexics, popular culture seems far more fascinated by the idea of wasting away, as Sophie Gilbert explored in The Atlantic.

Part of the issue is BED’s relative newness on the mental health scene: It was only recognized as a formal diagnosis by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM–5) in 2013. “People seek a level of care that’s lower than what they actually need and then they give up,” says Julie Friedman, a health psychologist at the Eating Recovery Center in Chicago. (I am a former patient of Friedman’s.) “Somebody who really should be in residential therapy goes to an individual therapist and they’re frustrated. They give up and go back to dieting. It’s like trying to treat cancer with vitamins.”

Successful treatment of BED is not always synonymous with dramatic weight loss, but eliminating the habit of consuming thousands of calories at a time on a regular basis typically results in modest weight loss. And even if it doesn’t, it’s still a major health improvement to cut back on the types of foods people typically binge on (like pizza or meaty breakfast sandwiches or ice cream), the sodium, fat, and sugar of which are hard on the body. “When you eat big volumes of food, particularly foods that are highly processed, which is what most people binge on, it causes a lot of stress on your body,” says Friedman. “The inflammation in your body affects everything from your cardiac status to your brain to your butt to your bones and your joints. It compounds any health risk.”

The psychology of addiction in BED patients is still being understood, but I remember, when I was in recovery, thinking how much easier it would be if I could go cold turkey on food. Unfortunately, bingers need their drug to live—which is why they need help modulating the way they think about it and use it. “Imagine telling a coke addict to take three large doses and then two smaller doses per day,” says Tyson—Rivera’s therapist from Texas. “‘Don’t take too much and don’t take too little.’ That is not willpower; that’s torture.”

No diet or exercise plan can fix the disorder: BED lives in the brain. “There does seem to be a difference in the brain of someone with binge eating disorder compared to someone who doesn’t have it,” says Jillian Lampert, the chief strategy officer at the Emily Program, a eating disorder affiliate of the University of Minnesota that provides residential and outpatient care. “They’re interested in food in a different way. If food is very interesting, you’re likely to want more. But then it doesn’t deliver on its promise, so we go back and eat more, because we didn’t get it right. It breeds this cycle where people overeat and feel compelled to overeat. They’re looking for the reward.” The way Lampert explains treatment to her patients is, “Your brain is wired a little differently from some people’s. It’s neither good nor bad, it just is. We can help you to have an owner’s manual and say ‘I remember on page 57 when I’m around this certain set of foods and I’m stressed out, it’s harder for me to make decisions around eating.’”

Michael Meginness didn’t acknowledge his BED until he had been at at Chicago’s Eating Recovery Center for over a week. The 35-year-old Ohio father of four figured that he was eating three meals a day, so he was perfectly fine. Except that his typical breakfast included two meaty breakfast sandwiches and a bowl of cereal. “My brain’s telling me ‘I’m eating three meals’ but in actuality I’m eating three meals per meal,” he says. Finally, he went to treatment after his wife gave him an ultimatum. After working with Friedman, he says, “I had a realization that maybe I do have an eating disorder. Going through the treatment was a new start.”

When Rivera met Tyson’s dietitian, she requested the structure she had been given at UT. “If you can give me a meal plan, that’s what I’m going to follow.” Instead, Rivera recalls, “She laughed and said, ‘That’s not the approach we’re going to take.’” For the first time, all foods were “legalized” for her—the only rule was to eat three meals a day and three snacks. “[The dietitian] encouraged me to eat protein, fat, and carbs every meal. ‘If you’re going to eat a donut and a sausage, I’m cool with that.’” De-restricting meals was a step toward stopping the restrict-and-binge cycle.

In therapy, Meginness worked on a strategy called “catching your thoughts,” he says. “When you have a thought, those are just thoughts. It’s what you do after that helps makes those decisions. I can treat it as the truth or treat it as the lie. Am I that hungry? No, I ate, I’m fulfilled. I don’t need to act on that, I can throw [that thought] out and move on.”

In therapy Meginness also addressed the difficulties in his marriage. “I had to prepare myself that when I was released, my wife might not stay with me and the kids. Could I accept that, and continue with recovery? It was really tough. [Friedman] was like, ‘You need to make the choice: Are you going to do this for yourself whether or not you go home to a family?’” Once he decided to pursue treatment no matter what, his wife recognized that he was choosing to treat his disorder. “Actually now we’re in a thriving marriage.”

Body acceptance is also a major part of BED treatment, says Lampert, especially in a culture that prizes the big reveal of “Half Their Size!” features in magazines. Her patients often say, “I don’t feel like I’ll ever be enough, so what’s the point.” But Lampert says, “You can accept your body and delight in what it does while you work on making it feel better. ‘I can take care of myself today: I don’t have to wait until I lose weight.’ Those small wins can accumulate into a mastery of ‘I can do this.’” Rivera inexplicably began to gain weight after she was in treatment with Tyson; eventually she was diagnosed with polycystic ovary syndrome, a hormonal disorder that can cause weight gain. Once that was under control, she started to lose weight again. If it wasn’t for the mental health foundation she had established earlier, she says, she may have given up. “Even though my body was changing to what I considered a negative, just being able to keep up with legalizing food and going to treatment gave me a lot of strength,” she says.

According to Tyson, a binger who stops the cycle will lose about 10 percent of their body weight. That’s not sexy enough for a reality TV show reveal, but it’s a significant health improvement, which can improve blood pressure and heart health. “It’s not a rapid 100 pounds, but what I tell patients is that the goal here is to feel in control. If you’re not eating 1200 calories three times a day during binges, will that drop your weight? Sure, but it’s not sudden.” For many bingers, weight loss is simply a nice bonus that comes with improving mental health. I may have lost 50 pounds since I first sought treatment for BED, but for me the major victory was being able to eat a cookie, or three, or seven, and let it just be that. It doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to exercise, or to eat healthily, to be loved or to love myself the next day.

So why isn’t therapy given the same amount of press as a weight loss tool that Whole30 and CrossFit receive?

First, says Tyson, clinicians need to catch up on BED in order to be the first line of defense for their patients. “If people know they’re not going to be treated like ‘Oh, another obese patient who is not going to do what I want them to do,’ that will decrease the shame,” he says. The poor success rate of calorie-restricting diets has been well-documented, and he is frustrated by physicians who continue to recommend them to their patients. He says that the arrival of the binge-cessation drug Vyvanse, a stimulant also prescribed for ADHD that Friedman says helps some bingers manage eating-related impulsivity, has helped raised the profile of BED (Tyson is on the drugmaker’s board), but he warns that clinicians must not recommend the drug alone. “As long as you also recommend the therapy and the dietitian, then they stay in treatment and they’ll see success.”

“In a perfect world we’d be screening people for their eating behaviors and not so much about their weight,” says Lampert. “Their behaviors would tell us more about the place where we make change.”

It doesn’t help that overeating isn’t always seen as a disorder. When I first began treatment I felt ridiculous admitting that I, a functional adult, could let my whole week be dictated by a bowl of tortilla chips and a pitcher of margaritas. Friedman frequently hears reluctant patients says things like “I don’t fit in—I won’t even fit into the chairs.” She says, “The issue is that people don’t associate people struggling with their weight with eating-disorder treatment. Their perception is really antiquated, all these anorexics needing to be fed.”

Sufferers of BED tend to be high achievers who can’t accept that they can’t just force themselves to stop through sheer willpower, which Tyson says is ironic. “These are patients who have done incredibly difficult things—philanthropic work, mission work, endured very difficult circumstances—so to say that it’s something about lack of willpower, that’s just not the profile of these people.”

The high functionality of most bingers points to another reason more people with BED don’t get the help they need: insurance. Friedman notes that she fights with insurance companies “every day” over patients insurers see as being too functional to receive psychiatric care. “They go to work every day, but then they come home Friday at 5 and spend all weekend binge eating, with no quality of life, no social support. When you’ve got an 18-year-old who can’t finish her first year of college—that gets authorized easily. But if you have someone who is suffering on their own time, that makes it really hard to get authorization for care.”

Lampert says that it takes a minimum of 12 sessions of CBT for a patient to see results, with the average length of stay at the Emily Program lasting a year to a year and a half. But that kind of help is not always accessible. Rivera had to pay out of pocket for her work with Tyson, which included medication for depression and ADD. She was paying $250 a month at one point for her prescriptions. Fortunately, her husband is an ER doctor. “If I didn’t have his support, I would never be able to afford treatment. I’m so grateful that I was able to get to this place but then I think how many people are there and they can’t afford it. They’re just being told how much self-control they’re lacking.”

Sometimes that stigma comes from the insurance companies themselves. “Usually when I’m asking for more intensive treatment, I’m told, ‘This patient can go to Weight Watchers,’” says Friedman, who notes that the current level of care criteria that insurers use are based on anorexia or bulimia. Insurers then say, “They haven’t lost weight, they haven’t thrown up, so they don’t need treatment.” She says therapists have been working to create a new criteria of care that addresses functional impairment and distress over weight.

I reached out to two insurers with whom Friedman and Lampert frequently work and both said that they cover CBT for eating disorders. A spokesperson for Optum said that binge eating disorder is included in that “when it is appropriate to meet [patients’] clinical needs and goals,” and a spokesperson for Health Care Service Corporation (which runs several Blue Cross Blue Shield plans) said “CBT is among the most common therapies for eating disorders and is supported by our Behavioral Health Program.”

Tyson hopes to hear more noise from groups like the Eating Disorders Coalition and the Academy for Eating Disorders to call for conferences to discuss better coverage. Friedman says that sufferers of BED should get comfortable advocating with their insurance companies for adequate care. “Patients will call and say ‘it’s not right that I’m not getting this care’ and insurance will listen to a patient a lot faster and more effectively.”

America also has a long way to come in terms of its indecisive attitudes toward diet and food. Don’t be fat, but also don’t act like you care about your weight too much. Meginness says that after treatment, he felt extra pressure managing his eating as a man. “Guys are expected to enjoy tailgates and all this man food and meats and not worry about portions.” When he goes to social occasions, he plans ahead what he’s going to eat, but he says, “It’s hard, seeing these other guys filling their plates two to three times. It makes me want to be like ‘Oh well, let’s just do it.’”

Without even going into weight management, Meginness lost 65 pounds by addressing his bingeing in therapy. Now, when he feels stress triggers at his IT job, he plays games on his phone or goes and plays with his kids. However, to him the weight is secondary to the biggest change in his life since he got treatment. “I used to yell and scream at my kids a lot. I wasn’t a very nice person. Now I’m more joyful, and I see that,” he says. When it comes to people like him and Rivera and me and everybody else like us, he says, “That’s what society doesn’t understand—they want a quick fix and get the instant gratification. If you find the root cause you don’t need Nutrisystem, AdvoCare, or any of the rest.”

from Health News And Updates https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2017/08/how-therapy-can-cure-overeating/537537/?utm_source=feed

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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Describe the last (or current) object you sat on. It’s my black work chair. It was initially a quick, last-minute purchase from when I started an internship with my now-employer just so that I had somewhere decent to sit on when I reported to work, so it’s quite cheap and not the most comfortable to sit on for 8–12 hours; I definitely need a much nicer chair that would help with my posture.

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What weird thing do you eat that most people dislike? Balut. Which isn’t weird in my culture, but I’ve seen enough people gag over it.

Would you change your name if you got married? Depends; I don’t seem to have a firm opinion about it. I was set on hyphenating my name with my ex, but my mind could always change should I ever get another partner in the future.

Were you in any clubs in high school? Which ones? Yeah, but this is also because it was required. I joined the table tennis and yearbook clubs.

What time do you generally wake up? 6:30 AM on the dot, no alarms. Sometimes I’ll roll back to sleep, other times I’ll already start trying to wake up properly just so I don’t feel like a zombie once I start my 9 AM shift.

Do you share a bathroom with anyone? Yeah, everyone in my family uses the upstairs bathroom.

Are there any songs you know every single lyric to? Paramore’s entire discography and most of Beyoncé’s songs. A few punk rock songs here and there.

How many amusement parks have you visited? Not a lot. I can think of four unique ones I’ve been to.

Who is your favourite character from the show Friends? Chandler, followed very closely by Monica. Then Rachel, then Ross, then Joey, then Phoebe.

Do you have any leftovers in your fridge right now? So many. I ultimately bought too much food for my birthday dinner, considering we’re only 5 in the household – two trays of takoyaki, two party-sized pizzas, two trays of tteokbokki, two orders of gimbap, one family-sized tray of paella; and then we also have three large cakes (one of them I bought, one that my manager got, and one from my parents). But given this was my 2nd pandemic birthday, my 1st birthday employed, and my 1st birthday without Gabie, I wanted to have a big and memorable celebration for it.

What was the last job interview you attended? The one I had for what is my job now. It happened via video call, though.

Have you ever had a panic attack? A few, but fortunately the last one had been more than a couple of years ago.

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What career or study were you really interested in but didn't pursue? Political science/law.

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What's your skincare routine? I just douse my face with water every morning before work.

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What was the last movie you watched? I don’t even remember anymore.

#survey #surveys

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ionecoffman · 7 years ago

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How Therapy Can Cure Overeating

So why isn’t therapy given the same amount of press as a weight loss tool that Whole30 and CrossFit receive?

Article source here:The Atlantic

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