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hms-chill · 4 years

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Red Velvet, White Meringue, and Royal Icing

The Bake Off AU that I didn’t know 2020 would need, written for @rwrbbigbang!

Henry is a dramaturg who lives and works in London with his sister Bea and dog David. His bakes have all been approved by the casts and creative teams at the theater where he works, and inspired by his family baking tradition.

Originally from the American state of Texas, Alex now lives in Kent, where he balances studying law with his love for baking. He

Alex came to Bake Off to find out how good he is. Henry came to find new ideas and inspiration, and maybe to prove to himself that he can carry on his dad's baking traditions. But with ten weeks in a tent, they both find a little more than they bargained for.

With art by @emry-stars (which you can find Here and Here), and a massive thanks to Syd, @/wyverning on Twitter, for hopping in as a very last minute beta and dealing with my disaster of a first draft!

Chapter 1: Cake Week

“And you’ve got your recipes, right?”

Henry rolls his eyes with a smile, patting his bag. “Yes, Bea. They’re right here, safe and sound. If I lose them, I’m sure they’ll have the copies I sent them in the tent.”

“The little laundry sheets so you can do wash in case you get something on your top?”

“I’ve got them, too. I’m going to be fine; there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll call you when I get there, and before we start tomorrow, and I’ll keep you posted.”

She hugs him again, adding, “Dad would be so proud of you.”

He grins when they pull away, and she reaches up to ruffle his hair while he swats at her hands and escapes toward the train, waving with a confidence he’s not sure he feels. Bea had been there when he auditioned for the show, to proofread his application and help him learn the basics of food photography for the Instagram account she’d set up for him. She’d been there when they called him for the phone interview, and she’d cleaned up while he made things for the first in person interview. She’d helped him scour cookbooks and drill baking basics before his technical application, and she’s spent the past week testing his practice bakes and cleaning up after him, typically with nightly pep talks about how good he is and how she’s proud of him. But now, it’s just him and his overnight bag getting on the train for Berkshire. He’s committed to his bakes, and he’s sure of what he’s doing. Now, all that’s left is to do it.

The train ride is somehow both too long and too short all at once. He tries to get some work done, but the nerves make it hard. He wants to shout at everyone on the train that he’s made it, that he’s going to be on the show and in the tent, baking with the best home bakers in the country. He wants to ask each and every passenger if maybe they’re going to the same place, maybe they’ve done it, too, and the two of them are going to get to bake together. He wants to ask if a Victoria sponge is too simple, if he’s committed to something stupid enough to get him sent home the first week just because he’s a sentimental sap.

A crew member from the show meets him at the train station, and there’s someone else next to him, a Black man wearing the most colorful shirt Henry has ever seen. He’s got a big smile as he reaches out to shake Henry’s hand.

“I’m Percy. Call me Pez, like the sweets.”

“Henry. Nice to meet you.”

“Good to meet you. I think we’re waiting for one more, then we’ll go to the hotel and see the tent and things. You excited?”

Henry nods as another boy comes over in a rush, his curls flopping into his face and bag inches away from falling off his shoulder. He sticks his hand out, and the bag slips down his arm, settling around his elbow as he shakes their hands.

“Hi. Hi, sorry I’m late, I’m Alex.”

Henry and Pez introduce themselves, and the crew member whose name Henry doesn’t quite remember (it might be Sarah?) gets them into a car and driving toward the hotel where they’ll be staying for the weekend. Ideally, they’ll be back next weekend, too , but thinking about leaving already feels like a lot for week one. Alex introduces himself as a law student from Canterbury, and Pez works at a nonprofit in Manchester. Henry just tells them he does research for a theater; it’s not quite worth getting into everything when they’re all just getting to know each other. He’s more than happy to let the others talk; he hears about Alex’s classes and Pez’s charity work. He hears about how Alex moved from America to Scotland with his mom when she married his stepdad, but he still goes back to America in the summer and for some holidays.

He half-listens, half-worries about the upcoming weekend. He checks to make sure he’s still got his recipes at least three times. They still haven’t escaped, thankfully, and by the third time he looks in his bag, Alex, who’s sitting next to him, notices. “Hey, they’re there; it’s fine. We’re all nervous, but it’ll be okay.”

Henry just smiles at him. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice before, but Alex is… well. Alex’s face is very, very nice. He’s got a bit of a smile, and Pez is saying something, but Henry’s not sure what it is and he knows he doesn’t care.

“I just don’t want to go home first,” he admits, and Alex grins.

“Listen. If I think you’re going out, I’ll drop a cake on the floor and we’ll go together, okay?” Henry laughs a bit, and Alex pats his shoulder, then turns back to say something to Pez. His hand is still on Henry’s shoulder, and it stays there until they reach the hotel where they’ll meet the others, and Henry tries his hardest to think about or focus on other things, but it’s certainly distracting.

Alex doesn’t move his hand until they’re pulling up at the hotel, and when it’s gone it leaves a cold spot in its place. Henry doesn’t have long to think about that, though, as he’s climbing out of the car and joining a crowd already around a minibus with the Bake Off logo on the side. Probably-Sarah takes their bags to their rooms, explaining that they’ll be going to the tent tonight to get a look at it and learn how things like the ovens and the mixers work.

They have the obligatory round of slightly awkward introductions, and Henry finds himself next to a man named Shaan whose aura of calm somehow seems to quiet even Henry’s jangling nerves. They’re talking about Shaan’s role as a curator with the National Museum of Scotland and their exhibit on prosthetics when the bus turns a corner and they see the white peaks of the tent emerging from behind the Welford Park House. Henry stops in the middle of a question about the Alternative Limb Project’s Vine Arm to gape, and Shaan leans over to look out the window as well. The whole atmosphere of the bus has changed, and there are a few moments of silence before it erupts into excited chattering, everyone seeming to remember all at once why they’re here. Henry still just looks, grinning, out the window. That’s the tent. This is it. He snaps a picture to send Bea.

Then they’re getting out, and they’re walking the tent. They’re being shown which benches they’ll bake at tomorrow, and they’re meeting the hosts and judges and crew, and Henry’s brain can’t seem to focus on any of it. It doesn’t quite seem real, but between Shaan’s grounding presence and Pez’s chatter, it’s hard to believe he’s dreaming. Alex being here is another point in the not-a-dream category; he’s not sure he could have imagined a smile that bright.

It’s a whirlwind trip, and they’re loading back onto the minibus before too long, Henry’s head spinning. He’ll be back here tomorrow, baking cakes he used to bake with his dad, and he’ll be doing it for TV cameras and in front of the entire world. He’ll be telling the world about growing up baking cakes, and those very cakes he used to make with his dad could be the ones that send him home.

That night, the production team takes them out to dinner, and Henry meets Nora, the data analyst Alex has become fast friends with via a heated debate about how easy a pothos plant is to keep alive. He mentions that Bea’s kept one for a few years without much struggle, which drags him into the debate and gets them all laughing. They’re not talking about their bakes, and Henry’s glad. He’s got enough to worry about without hearing the amazing things the others have planned.

The next morning, they have an early call. Henry’s in the lobby of the hotel even before they need to be, though, texting Bea an extra thank you and checking, once again, that he has everything he needs. The last thing he wants is to get to the tent and realize he’s left something here. He’s halfway through another text to Bea when there’s a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to see Shaan.

“Hello. Couldn’t sleep either?” Henry asks with a smile. Shaan shrugs.

“I just think it never hurts to be a bit early to things.” He’s got a thermos of coffee, but beyond that, he looks just as polished as he would any other time of day. There’s no indication that he’s up at 5 AM.

“What do you think will happen today? I mean, I know they walked us all through it, but that’s not the same as actually doing it, and no one… no one really talked about things last night.”

“I think we’ll go in there and bake. What do you have planned?”

“Some… some Victoria sponges today. Mini ones. I… I’m sort of scared it’s too simple, but we used to make them with my dad growing up, and so I have a lot of practice. My sister suggested I pick something pretty simple that I’m familiar with for the first bake so I get used to it.”

“I think that’s a good plan, and I’m sure if you’ve been making these since you were young, you’ve got it down.”

“What are you making?”

“It’s a green tea cake; we had them at a gallery opening a few years back.”

“It sounds good; I’ll have to try some when you’re done.”

Shaan smiles at him, and Henry relaxes a bit. He looks around to see some of the other contestants have joined them in the lobby. He spends some time talking to Hunter, who’s very excited about the new high-protein flour he’s using for his cakes, and decides that he would maybe rather pull his ears off than hear more about high-protein flour or different milling varieties and their nutritional benefits. He’s in the bus when Alex arrives in the seat next to him, looking tired and carrying the biggest thermos Henry’s ever seen.

“Hello again. Ready for the big day?” Alex asks around a yawn.

“I’m not sure. I guess? We sort of have to be,” Henry says, and Alex nods.

“I can’t argue with you there. Still. You feel ready?”

“As ready as I can. What about you?”

“I guess. I think my sister’s more worried than I am, if I’m honest.”

“You have a sister?”

“An older one; June. She’s thinking of moving back to the states, but for now she’s working for a few magazines here.”

“Is it weird, sort of being here and sort of being back in the States?”

“I guess. It’s just sort of how it’s been since we moved, you know?”

“Think you’ll ever go back?”

“I’m not sure. It was sort of weird deciding to move, but June was coming since she was interested and school here’s a lot more affordable, so I came, too. It was… you know, this exciting new start and everything, and we’re pretty happy staying here and going back for summers sometimes.”

Henry just nods as they turn into Welford Park, looking down at the bag where he’s got his recipes again. Alex smiles.

“They all there?”

He’s teasing, and Henry just rolls his eyes. He’s expecting to be nervous as they all climb out of the van, but somehow, he’s not. Alex’s hand on his shoulder likely has nothing to do with that.

They file in to stand behind their assigned benches.

Henry puts his recipes and a picture of him and his dad baking down in front of him, taking a deep breath.

On your mark.

Get set.

Bake.

And then he’s reaching for the eggs and flour and sugar, and he’s baking a miniature Victoria sponge, just like he’s done a thousand times before. And yes, he’s in a tent rather than a kitchen, and yes, there’s the hustle and bustle of camera crews and other bakers around him, but it’s just baking. It’s just the same Victoria sponge he used to make for his mum every year on her birthday, when they’d each decorate one for her and she’d look at them all and puzzle over it before she declared them all the best decorators.

The first Royal Tour arrives before any of them are really ready for it. Henry sees Amy frantically cleaning a few things off her station as the judges come to stand in front of him. He’s seen this bit a million times, but it feels surreal to actually be the one in the spotlight.

“I’m Henry; I’m making some Victoria sponges. When we were kids, we used to make them with my dad, and all three of us kids would decorate them for our Mum.”

“Did you have to fight it out to have the best cake?” Noel asks, and Henry laughs.

“She’d always say we were all her favorite.”

“Bit simple, isn’t it?” Paul asks, and Henry’s heart is in his throat.

“I was hoping to do something where my nerves wouldn’t get in the way as much, at least for the first bake,” he explains, and Sandi smiles.

“Well, I think that if you do it well, something like this will really show us what you can do,” Prue says, and as they move on, Henry thanks every saint he’s ever disappointed that at least she’s on his side.

He has a second after he puts the cakes in when he can look around to see how everyone else is doing, and he sees an explosion of color on Pez’s station. Across the aisle from him, he sees a personal assistant named Zahra with a station he swears is neater than his was when they started. Nora is in front of him, checking things off a complex spreadsheet while surrounded by chaos, and somewhere, he thinks Alex might be swearing in Spanish.

After a second to breathe, Henry starts on his jam and buttercream, keeping an eye on his mini cakes. He’s making more than they used to with his dad, but even so, it feels just as familiar and comfortable.

The fillings come together, and then he gives himself a half second to check them before he’s on to assembling, setting a single raspberry in the middle of each cake and carefully piping designs on the tops. Noel announces that they have one minute left, and Henry gets everything on the end of his bench and leans back as they finish counting down.

Just like that, the first bake is over, and the bakers file out to rest. This is the part where the TV element of the show takes over; their bakes are going to get their beauty shots and the bakers are going to be interviewed. Hunter gets pulled first, so Henry gets to flop down onto the couch. Pez settles beside him, automatically resting a hand on Henry’s knee, and it turns out that he’s used a colorful mirror glaze and real flowers, either of which could have been the colors Henry saw. He asks about Nora’s spreadsheet, and she shows it to him, covered in frosting and batter and marking out what she should be doing every ten minutes.

When everything’s ready for them, the bakers traipse back into the tent, all quiet and nervous as they face their first round of judging. As much as Henry is trying to pay attention to everyone else’s comments, he’s too nervous to focus on much aside from the occasional word until the judges are in front of him.

He’s smiling, doing his best to relax as they take a bite. Paul reiterates that his cakes are simple, but says they’re perfectly done, and Prue agrees with him. Henry grins, finally feeling like he can breathe as he sits down. Behind him, Cash gets compliments on his flavors and the unique designs. Alex is next, and Henry hears them compliment his cake, but complain that it’s a bit claggy, which he’d been worried about. As they file out for lunch, Henry manages to get beside Alex and ask how it went, but Alex just shrugs.

“I made a damn good tres leches; if they thought it was a weird texture I’m not too upset about it. I mean, obviously I’m not thrilled, but you know. It was the type of cake they didn’t like, not my version of it. So it’s not, you know, that I’m bad at baking or anything, at least not really. This table look good?” Henry nods and sits, which is how he finds himself at a table with Nora, Pez, Alex, and Hunter, who turns out to be both very talkative and intensely boring.

Alex is across from Henry, and whenever they make eye contact, Alex makes a face, quietly mocking Hunter. Henry smiles, and he nods when Hunter says things, but it’s nice to know he’s not the only one bored with Hunter’s rambling. Alex is on his side, both in and out of the tent, and that’s nice to know, too, especially going into the technical.

Henry’s been trying to avoid thinking about it, but the technical’s been in the back of his mind. He’s done what he can to prepare for it, but he has no idea what to expect. Still, Alex will be baking near him, and Zahra will be across from him, and she seems like the sort of person who will know what’s happening if he gets really lost and needs to see what she’s up to. It’ll be alright.

They file back to the tent as lunch ends, and Henry takes a deep breath as he settles behind his bench, tying the apron. It’s just this technical, then they’ll be getting dinner together and spending time in the hotel, probably talking about the loved ones they’re making their showstopper cakes for. Henry is more than ready to talk about Bea and how much he loves her, and he wonders briefly who Alex is making a cake for. He’s been so focused on worrying about the technical that he hasn’t gotten a chance to know the other bakers as well as he hopes, but maybe that chance will come over a dinner with the bakers he’s starting to become friends with.

He tries to think about that instead of the gingham-clad mystery pile in front of him. There are ingredients for something under that fabric, but he can’t know what, and it’s not going to help to try and guess. He just takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the judges’ advice instead.

As it turns out, Prue’s advice is just to read closely, which is about as helpful as telling them to remember to breathe or that cakes need sugar. That’s all they get before the judges step out, and Noel has a joke about their figure skating class before Sandi announces the dish they’ve been tasked with.

They’re making something called nut cake. Henry thinks he may have heard of it once, and the cake itself seems fairly simple. The icing for it looks a bit more complicated, but that’s an issue for Future Henry. The cake is a problem for right now, and it’s not nearly as much of a problem as he thought it might be. And right now, Henry’s just baking, falling into the routine of reading a new recipe and figuring things out. He and Bea have been practicing technicals for weeks now, and he’s been reading old recipes for years so he can bake things appropriate for different plays he’s working on. As it turns out, deciphering them has helped him get ready for figuring out pared down modern ones.

Behind him, he hears Jeffrey, a man he’s not particularly close to, panicking.

Zahra seems in control, and while there are varying degrees of panic happening around him, everyone else seems relatively calm.

Nora’s workstation is a mess, as is Pez’s, but they and some of the other messy bakers seem like they’ll thrive in that mess. By contrast, Jeffrey’s mess just looks like mess.

But as much as he cares for the other bakers, Henry does his best to ignore them, at least for now. He tries to just concentrate on his own cake, even if it demands less concentration than he might have guessed. Even as they shift to icing, it’s far from the hardest thing he’s ever baked. The judges might be easing them into the technicals, but Henry’s glad for it. As the final seconds tick down, he’s drizzling the icing on his cake, and as he steps back he declares it ‘good enough’.

Carrying it up to the table and setting it behind his picture feels surreal, especially surrounded by the other bakers doing the same. He’s seen it on TV a million times, but somehow, doing it himself still sends a slight shiver down his spine. His cake doesn’t look bad compared to the others, and as he’s filing out to take a break with the rest of the bakers, he gets a glimpse at Jeffrey’s. It doesn’t look iced. In their resting area, Henry learns that he’s afraid it’s underbaked; apparently he’d forgotten to add nuts to his first one and had to restart with barely any time left.

As much as Henry hates to see anyone upset, a tiny, tiny part of him is relieved. He doesn’t want to come last in the technical, especially not the first one. They’re called back into the tent once it’s clean, and as they file onto the stools, Henry is sandwiched between Shaan and Alex. Alex grabs his hand; his cake is on the end where they’ll start the tasting and he’s pretty clearly worried. Henry just gives his hand a squeeze as the judges try his cake, and when they move on, Alex doesn’t stop squeezing, so Henry keeps a tight hold through the whole thing.

It is, by far, the worst part of the day. The deliberation about cakes is too quiet to hear, and it seems to take forever, but then they’ve decided. Alex is squeezing Henry’s hand so hard he thinks his fingers might go numb as the judges step forward to announce the results of the first technical challenge this group of bakers have ever faced.

Jeffrey comes in last. Alex is fourth, and to his shock, Henry comes in first. He’s not sure what to think, but he knows he has to call Bea as soon as he can. He has to thank her for how much she’s done to test him and get him ready for this part of the competition. Alex pulls him into a hug almost immediately, and Henry grins as Cash, a stay at home dad who seems great, joins in. They get pulled aside for more interviews, and Henry gets to be really, really excited without having to worry about hurting or offending anyone else, but even on the bus back, even as he tries to keep it toned down a bit so as not to upset anyone, he can’t quite help his grin.

He calls Bea that night from the hotel room, because really, he can’t think of anything else to do with these emotions. She picks up on the first ring.

“Henry! You did so well! I knew you would.” Just hearing her voice is enough to pull some of the tension out of his shoulders, and he laughs a bit.

“I never… god, it was a lot, but I… I did it.”

“You did it! And you got first in technical; I’m so proud of you. Dad would be, too, I know it.”

He just smiles, talking to her until there’s a knock on his door, and Pez is there to invite him out for dinner with some of the other contestants. Bea tells him to go have fun, and he finishes getting changed, then finds Pez, Alex, Nora, and a reporter named Oliver at the hotel bar. Alex is talking about a family friend he’s planning to make a cake for tomorrow, about how they’ve been friends since his dad took Raf in when his coming out didn’t go well. They’d had a tradition of birthday cookies, but Raf was used to cakes, so he’s the only one they make cake for. He’s planning a big cake decorated with cookies, just like they’d always done.

Henry gets to talk about how much he loves Bea, then a student named Liam joins them and hesitantly talks about how his boyfriend’s parents’ anniversary was last week, so he’s replicating the cake he made them. Pez demands a picture of Liam and his boyfriend, and they all get to admire how cute they are while Liam blushes. Pez moans that he and his partner will never be that cute, and he uses the word ‘partner’, which makes Liam relax a bit and makes Henry grin as a wave of quiet warmth washes over him. Even though he’d known that people would probably be fine if he came out, it’s nice to know he wouldn’t be alone if he did. Seeing Liam and Spencer’s pictures, and hearing that Pez probably isn’t straight (though honestly, he’d piqued Henry’s gaydar early on), helps quiet the part of him that’s worried.

Apparently Liam was the only one they were waiting for, so Pez leads the way to a nearby restaurant. Shaan and Zahra are there already, and they wave them over. The eight of them end up monopolizing a corner booth, filling the table with good food and the benches with good conversations. Zahra’s planning a baby shower cake for her sister, and Shaan’s planning one as a test for his parents’ renewal of vows. They finish dinner and go to bed relatively early, knowing they’ve got an early call tomorrow, but Henry goes to bed feeling better about the showstopper than he ever could have imagined.

It’s him and Shaan downstairs early the next day, and they make small talk and text their families while they wait for the others to come down. It’s a nice way to wake up, and Henry’s already starting to get used to this routine, to morning conversations about Shaan’s museum over tea and coffee. Shaan offers to give him a tour of the archives if he comes to visit, and Henry promises to take him up on that next time he’s in Edinburgh. Even that feels nice, to plan to see each other again after this is all over, and to know that even if he goes home this week, he’ll have made at least one friend.

The other bakers trickle down as Henry and Shaan are finishing their tea, and it’s not long before they’re all there, loading into the minibus and heading off to the tent to make cakes for their loved ones. Henry’s planning one shaped like a guitar for Bea, using a sponge recipe similar to the one they’d made with their dad but flavored especially for her. It’s the one bake he hasn’t practiced with her around, the only one she’s never tried in full. He wants her to be surprised when she watches the show.

He tells Paul and Prue about having lied about his plans to her when they come on the royal tour, and it makes Paul laugh, which is a relief from his regular stoicness. Prue tells him it’s sweet, Noel asks if there’s anything else he’d like to confess to lying to her about, and Henry honestly admits to having never lied to Bea in any other circumstance, and then they’re moving on. Behind him, Henry hears Cash talk about making a cake with layers for each of his kids, and he can’t help but grin. He’ll have to take a peek at that cake when decorating time comes.

His own cake is going well. He’s been playing it safe this week, and he knows that, but at least that means that he doesn’t have to worry about anything too hard. He’s made each of these cakes for Bea before, and he made a guitar cake for her last birthday. The hardest part is the assembly. He’s decided to have the guitar stand upright, probably because he’s an idiot, so the last two hours of the bake is entirely dedicated to carefully, carefully stacking cakes on top of each other and carving them into the right shape. He’s planning a mirror glaze, both because it will mimic the shine of Bea’s guitar and because he’s an idiot who likes to use every second of their allotted time and stress himself out as he does. He’s sure he’ll have time, but he’s making a brown fondant just in case.

He’s just getting his fondant-covered cake in the freezer when he hears Alex swear behind him, and he doesn’t even think before he turns to see what’s wrong. Alex has a decorative cake tin, and he’s frantically tapping it on a baking sheet. Henry goes over to his bench, and he can feel a camera following him as he asks, “How can I help?”

“Just… it won’t come out.”

“Did you run a knife around the middle? Try that.”

There’s a tense silence as Alex does. Henry’s holding his breath.

Alex flips the cake over again, shaking it up and down a few times on the baking sheet. Henry can just hear the thunk as it falls, and Alex lets out a shaky breath as he pulls the tin off. The cake emerges, looking complete, and Alex grins. Henry grins back, and Alex thanks him as he picks up a piping bag. Henry turns back to his own bench as Alex says, “Hey, if you need me to drop this on the floor, I still will.”

Henry just laughs as he goes back to his own bench. As he goes around Cash’s, Cash says, “Hey, either of you are welcome to drop anything on the floor as long as it’s not mine. Amy looks pretty confident over there.”

Alex tosses the top of a strawberry onto the ground behind Cash’s bench, and Cash laughs, and Henry starts on his mirror glaze infinitely less worried than he would have been otherwise.

He’s pulled shortbread decorations out of the oven and drizzled his mirror glaze over the cake when Noel calls the two minute warning, and his piping of the strings is a bit sloppy, but when he steps back he can barely believe he’s done it. It’s a bit messy, but it looks like a guitar, and he knows Bea would be thrilled with it. Really, that’s all that matters. He’s feeling good about it, but when he turns and sees Cash’s cake, he knows he’s lost any shot at star baker. It’s a towering beauty, each layer individually decorated with castles, jungles, and pirate ships.

Cash brushes aside their compliments, but when Henry asks about the kids, he starts talking about each of them, rambling and rambling as they leave the tent for their break. Henry just grins and listens as Cash’s excitement completely overwhelms any worry Henry might be feeling. Instead of thinking about if his cakes are too dry or if something is wrong with his fondant, Henry gets to look at pictures of Cash’s kids and husband and dog. It makes for a fantastic distraction while they wait for the tent to be cleaned up, and Henry wonders briefly just how many more people he can ask about pets or kids while they wait.

Cash rambles about his family through most of their break, and Henry is happy to just sit back and listen. Cash is clearly a good dad, and he’s more than happy to ramble about his son’s ballet recital or his daughter’s favorite cookie recipe throughout the entire cleaning period and photoshoot.

He’s still talking about his kids as they photographers finish up, so Henry gets to focus on that instead of worrying as they settle behind the benches for the final time that day. Henry is too far back to hear what the judges are saying to anyone else, but he watches Hunter’s and Jeffrey’s shoulders slump, watches Prue smile at Cash and Oliver, and he grins when Pez brings a rainbow explosion past his bench. Pez just winks as Henry laughs a bit.

Then it’s his turn, and he’s carefully carrying the cake up. It looks good; recognizably an electric guitar leaning against an amp. The judges like the flavors and the look, but it is dry. He’d been afraid of that; he’d been making fondant while it baked, and left it in a bit too long. Still, over all, it’s positive. Alex gives him a thumbs up as he carries the cake back, and Cash smiles at him. It’s not a bad cake, and he’s done well in the technical. He’s probably going to be back next week, and that’s good enough for now.

He does his best to focus on the others’ comments, but this far back it isn’t easy. It feels a bit like playing telephone as the bakers closer to the front say things like we’ve all had dry cakes or I heard good things. Reactions seem to be pretty varied across the board, and it doesn’t seem like Henry’s the only one who’s not done his best, but this far back he has no real idea.

The judges and hosts leave to make a decision, and the bakers are left to mill around the tent before eventually settling on the stools at the front. Alex is beside Henry again, and he grabs Henry’s hand as the judges and hosts come out. He’s had a good bake, and done decently in the technical, but nothing’s guaranteed in the tent.

Cash gets star baker, surprising no one but himself. His showstopper pushed him over the top, just like Henry knew it would, and he’s thrilled to get to reach over and squeeze Cash’s shoulder to congratulate him. His husband and kids are going to be so proud.

Then comes the hard part. Alex is squeezing Henry’s hand so hard it’s turning white.

Sandi opens her mouth.

“Jeffrey.”

Alex drops Henry’s hand and gives him a little half-embarrassed smile, and Henry has just enough time for half a thought about how he hopes he and Alex stay on the show. He refuses to let himself think on that, just gives Cash a big hug and gets through their final interviews. He tells the interviewer that he’s not surprised Cash got it, because he really deserves it, and that he’ll be glad to come back next week. Cash joins them again while he’s on the phone with his husband and kids, and he’s beaming as he talks and they load into the minibus.

It’s a strange atmosphere on the bus. Jeffrey’s upset to be going home, but Henry can’t seem to find it in himself to be all that sad. He’s staying, and so are Alex and Shaan and Pez. He gets to come back and bake with his friends next week, and as much as going home sucks for Jeffrey, Henry can’t find any particular grief about it.

They only have a few minutes to get their bags together before they’re heading back to the train station. Henry says goodbye to Alex, Pez, and the others, then calls Bea as he slips his ticket into the slot. The train is already on the platform, and he finds an empty table and slides into it, still talking as he pulls his laptop out to get some work done. He’s just hanging up with her when someone slides into the seat across from him.

“Anyone sitting here?” Alex asks with a smile. Henry smiles back, shaking his head.

“Hello.”

“Hey. Good job in there today; that guitar looked great.”

“Looked great, tasted dry. Yours looked good, too; I’m sure your family friend would have loved it.”

“Thanks. I needed it to be good after that tres leches disaster yesterday.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t have to drop anything on the floor,” Henry says, and Alex grins.

“Me too.” Alex pulls out a laptop, but even as he opens it, he seems no less willing to end the conversation. “And, if I’m honest, I know this is meant to be the most wholesome experience and all, but I’m sort of glad Jeffrey’s gone.” He’s leaning across the table conspiratorially, and Henry finds himself leaning forward, too. “He rubbed me weird.”

“He… he sort of rubbed me weird, too. If it had to be someone, I’m glad it was him.”

They share another conspiratorial smile, and Alex says, “Exactly. Like maybe he’s fine, but I’d rather him than someone else. I’d rather him than you or Nora or Pez any day.”

“He was just so…” Henry’s not quite sure what he wants to say, but Alex is nodding.

“Yeah. If it had to be someone, I’m glad it was him.”

He’s finally turning his attention to his laptop, making an excuse about a paper he’s got to work on, so Henry turns back to his own work with a small smile, his leg occasionally brushing Alex’s. They both get drinks when the cart comes, tea for Henry and coffee for Alex, and Alex pays for both, promising that Henry can get it next time.

Next time, because there will be a next time.

When he meets Bea at the station that night, he’s not quite sure how to tell her about Alex, but she seems to know what to think, even if Henry doesn’t.

On AO3

When I started this fic back in February, I had no idea how much the world might need it come October. But here we are, and here it is! Ten chapters of gay baking! That I hope y'all love!

As always, if you want to support the Hannah-Makes-Art fund, you can tip me in ko-fi here! And if you want to support the Emry-Makes-Art fund, they’ve got commissions up on their blog!

#rwrb big bang #rwrb #rwrb bang #red white and royal blue fic #rwrb fic #my fic: rwrb #red white and royal blue au #bake off au #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #firstprince #red white and royal blue

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trojantoast · 4 years

Text

Cold is the Night (Day One: Reunion)

Zutara Week 2020

@zutaraweek

AO3

“Once he's gazed upon her, a man is forever changed

The bravest men return with darkened hearts and phantom pain

Ages come and go, but her life goes on the same

She lives to see the sun and feel the wind and drink the rain

Her colors change to mark the passing of the days

No Earthly sight can match the beauty she displays

And when I die I want her lying by my side

In my grave, in my grave”

- La Belle Fleur Sauvage (Lord Huron)

___

The arctic wind was bitter cold, but the sight of the Southern Water Tribe as he rounded the iceberg filled him with warmth. Unlike its northern sister, with its white, impenetrable walls. Only a wide harbor filled with ships and sea birds, separated the frigid ocean from the village.

No great citadel greeted him, no sparkling palace. Yet, it was not the same tribe as years past. Gone were the huts and animal skin tents. A broad path in the snow led from the port to a neat cluster of igloos nestled at the snow covered foot of the mountains, cradled by a low wall. The only permanent settlement was the low rotunda of sculpted ice and snow that crowned the village. The home of the Southern Tribe winked with fire light in the eternal dawn.

Fire Lord Zuko breathed in the crisp, familiar scent of brine and metallic snow, as his cruiser dropped anchor in the harbor. In minutes his motor boat reached the shore, and his breath of fire was the only thing keeping him from shivering right out of his parka. Summer or not, Zuko was chilled to the bone.

Three figures greeted him on the docks of ice. All were male, tall and broad. One broke away and as he grew closer his voice carried over the arctic wind, until he was only a few feet away.

“Gran Gran will be happy to see you wearing the parka she made you, though… the matching toboggan seems to be missing.”

Zuko smiled as he was enveloped into an embrace, “Hello, to you too, Sokka.”

The warrior gave him a quick squeeze and pulled back, his characteristic grin plastered on his face. Zuko looked down at his previously mentioned navy blue parka. It was cut in the Fire Nation style, and lined with white fur. “Well, I couldn't refuse a gift from a foreign dignitary, especially one that was handmade for me.”

“Certainly not, parkas of that quality can take an entire winter to hand stitch. To have one made for you is a declaration of trust and allyship, sacred to our tribe.” Zuko looked up to the second Warrior, taller than Sokka, but narrower in the shoulders. The firebender bowed formally,

“General Bato,”

There was a bark of laughter, and the third man joined the group, “General... that’s a good one.”

The tall warrior rolled his eyes, “What would you prefer, Hakoda, ‘Igloo-maker in Chief’?”

The leader of the southern Water Tribe threw his arm around the warriors shoulders and smiled, “As long as it's not my igloo.”

There was another round of chuckles, and Hakoda grasped Zuko’s forearm in a formal greeting.

“You really should take care of that parka. Bato’s not kidding, they do take all winter and you know how long those are around here.”

“I’ll be sure to express my gratitude to Kanna when I see her.”

“Glad to hear it,” Hakoda smiled softly, but his eyes turned more earnest, and he placed a strong hand on Zuko’s shoulder. The Fire Lord’s guards didn't even flinch. Snow swirled absentmindedly around the group in the moments before the chief spoke, “I believe we have some things to discuss.”

Zuko nodded, his hand dipping unconsciously into the pocket of his parka, “yes, we do.”

___

Talking could wait, apparently, as Zuko and the rest of his crew were loaded up into sleds (recently reintroduced to the tribe's way of life, after they finally had enough food to feed arctic dogs as well as themselves) and taken to the village. It was bigger up close, but barely larger than the smallest of villages in his home country. Children trailed after them, and Zuko smiled as Captain Jee sent little spirals of sparks, like fireworks, towards their awed faces.

Sokka was giving him a very speedy tour, pointing out new landmarks and trying to explain who lived in what igloo, before they passed by in a shower of kicked up snow. The main gathering building of the tribe was circular and sprawling. Multiple branches and bubbles of different rooms peaked out of the drifts of snow. The ship's crew was taken to the temporary barracks to get cleaned up before the feast that the tribe's women had prepared. Zuko was led to the guest house he usually occupied on his visits.

Zuko tried to refuse any big ta-do about his arrival. It wasn't even an official visit. He knew that even if the tribe was quickly bouncing back after the war, that there wasn't much food to spare. However, the tribe members had been insistent, and he couldn't really argue.

He followed Sokka around the backside of the rotunda to the igloos and huts that Chief Hakoda’s family and visitors used.

He tried not to let his eyes drift to the home nestled between his and the chief’s. It’s doorway was dark, no smoke curled from its chimney, and from the snow drifted against the door, it had not been entered in a while.

That’s a good thing, he said to himself.

He wasn’t very convincing.

“You know, I'm surprised you haven't asked about her yet.”

Zuko stilled at the door of his igloo, a now familiar place. He let his eyes linger on the other home.

“I know she’s not here, and that’s how I wanted it to be, so…” he trailed off.

“What has it been? Six months?” Sokka continued past him carrying Zuko’s trunk with little effort. He set it down by the large cot and bed roll. Zuko sighed and followed suit. The space was immediately warmer than the outside air. The curtain of a door settled behind him.

“Seven… and three quarters.” He grabbed a tea kettle and set it on the small cooking fire at the center of the single room house. Sokka plopped down on the cushions around the pit, arranging them so he could comfortable lounge back.

“Hey, I haven't seen Suki in almost five months. I mean,” there was a grunt as Sokka removed his boots, “It's not quite the same, since me and Suki are technically married and you guys…” Sokka seemed to struggle for the right thing to say. In the meantime Zuko removed his own boots and parka, which had grown hot, and ran a hand through his unbound hair. He had kept it roughly the same length for the past five years.

“We agreed that this was the best thing for everyone. Katara’s where she's needed, and so am I.” Sokka raised a critical brow, but just shrugged.

“And, I'm sure your visit here has nothing to do with ‘being where you're needed’” Zuko shot him a withering look. Sokka had the decency to look sheepish.

“Hey,” the warrior raised his hands in surrender, “I only speaking the truth.”

Zuko wasn’t quite ready to face the truth.

He wasn’t ready, because the truth frightened him. It kept him up at night. It made him lose focus in meetings and it made him count the days between every time he saw her. He knew the truth, and he didn’t want to hear it.

“Well, buddy, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Zuko looked up from inspecting the tea pot, and smiled, ever so slightly,

“Me too.”

___

The meal was no feast or ball, but the entire village gathered in the largest and center-most room of the rotunda. The tribe’s numbers, with it’s warriors returned, and half a decade of peace, had grown to nearly 200. Yet, the room didn’t seem cramped as everyone piled onto cushions around low dining tables. Even when Zuko’s crew and personal guards (who where only there on principle, Zuko had never felt safer than among the Southern Water Tribe), joined the company, the crowded space felt comfortable and warm.

Zuko had been placed in the seat of honor, at the left hand of chief Hakoda, and the right hand of Kanna, the chief's mother, and the village’s elder. As per tradition, the youngest of the group and the unmarried women served the rest of the tribe before eating. Sokka told him once, that the action was to reinforce loyalty and represent how they serve their tribe first, until they marry, or become adults.

The food was traditional water tribe cuisine, made by collective effort of the women, both married and unmarried, of the tribe.

Platters of roasted fish, and savory rein-caribou meat was served, alongside various stews and cooked greens. sea prunes, clams, and other crustaceans were also distributed. The food, like the tribe who made it, was hearty. It was salty, and fatty, and so unlike the hot spices and complicated recipes of his Zuko’s homeland. The Fire Lord hadn’t had a meal as delicious in a long time.

The room was filled with chattering voices and laughing children, muffled by the animal pelts and cushions they all lounged on. Everyone had striped their outer clothes off, and the parkas joined the piles of furs surrounding the group. People moved from table to table, catching up on the day's activities and trading jokes and stories. The older warriors took special interest in comparing notes with his crew on sailing techniques. Every member of the tribe, from the oldest widow, to the mother’s with their tiny babies, came to Zuko’s table and greeted him formally. Zuko gave them a warriors handshake or a bow, according to their age. Some of the children brought him tiny, crude, carvings of bone, made in the shapes of animals or people. In return, he bestowed a carefully wrapped cake from the satchel at his side into their tiny hands. The pastries were crunchy on the outside and impossibly soft on the inside; shaped like lotus flowers. They were straight from the royal kitchens, and Zuko pretended not to notice when they came back for seconds.

Zuko barely had time to eat the food that had been piled onto his plate, between greeting the tribe, and joining into the discussions at his own table, but he made do.

“So, young man,” Zuko turned from giving a little girl her third pastry, to Kanna. The older woman had finished her bowl of stew, and was now working on the delicate and complex embroidery on a deep blue parka. “What is it you plan to do with all those carvings the children are giving you?”

Zuko smiled, and turned to look at the small army of animals he had absentmindedly arranged in rows next to his table setting.

“I’ll probably put them with the others. I have a glass bureau in my office that holds some of the gifts I’ve received from other dignitaries. The children’s carvings have their own shelf.” The carvings had become a sort of tradition every time he came to visit.

She chuckled, it was a rumbling, gravelly sound, “I can’t imagine these next to the rich items you must get.”

Zuko picked up the carving closest to him. It was a black wolf-whale. The little boy who had given it to him, had charred the bone to mimic the pattern of black and white splotches of the animal in real life.

“Yeah, but these are my favorite.”

He ran his hands along the upright fin on its back.

Kanna smiled quietly to herself and returned to her embroidery.

Slowly, as the night went on, the children grew tired, and their parents bid last goodbyes to the members of Zuko’s table. And as the kids were rebundled up and carried, sleepily, back to their own homes, the rest of the village filed out as well. The younger men and women left in groups, or pairs, laughing heartily together, to spend time among themselves. The widows and widowed warriors bore their own farewells. Soon, even the village elders grew sore of sitting and talking and eating, and went their own ways, wishing the guidance and protection of the spirits in the dreams of their chief, his family, and the Fire Lord.

The dishes had been cleared away much earlier in the night, so when Hakoda led them into a hall toward a small study, they left the gathering room quiet and empty.

Zuko rose from his seat, and extended his elbow to Kanna, who excepted it with a pat to his for arm and a smile.

“Such good manners.” She praised. Zuko felt himself blush.

The adjacent room was furnished with low couches and a stone fireplace that peaked out of the white ice walls. More thick pelts lined the floor. Zuko recognized the large maple shelves and desk as those he gifted Hakoda himself, made of the finest Fire Nation lumber.

Sokka, Kanna, Bato, and Zuko all settled into the couches, as the Chief pulled out a dark blue glass bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk. He poured each member of the group a drink of the clear liquid, before he sat another one of the couches, instead of his high backed desk chair.

Zuko took a sip, and tried not to wince as the alcohol burned his throat. Immediately, he was warmer than before. He watched the others. Zuko knew what was coming.

Hakoda took a very slow sip of his drink, and turned to the firebender.

“I’m assuming you didn't sail all the way down to the South Pole to take in the scenery.”

Zuko swallowed, as they all turned their attention to him.

“No, no I didn't.” he took another drink, stealing his nerves, then placed the glass down.

“Me and Katara have discussed it, at length.” Zuko found that Kanna’s stare was level and calm, he felt reassured. “She thinks it’s the best thing for us, and I agree.” Zuko looked around the room.

“We want, no… we're going to get married.”

Zuko didn’t know what reaction he would receive. He had been obsessing over what Katara’s family would say, what they would do, since the idea of marriage first entered his mind. He expected it would involve being forcefully thrown into the arctic ocean. The sensible part of his mind knew there was nothing to worry about, since almost immediately after him and Katara had announced their courtship her family, and her tribe, had taken him in as one of their own (Bato had even teased them about step-grand children). Yet, the other voice in his head still haunted him with fears of rejection. But, Hakoda only sat up, placed his glass down, looked into Zuko’s eyes, and waited for him to continue.

So Zuko did.

“We know that it’s not going to be easy. We know that it will be dangerous. We know that we each have responsibilities and duties, and I respect hers and she respects mine. We’ve been considering it for a while now, and it's what we both want. I know that relations between my nation and yours, are...tense, but they're getting better, and there's people where I’m from that won’t like it, but I think that together, we can show that the four nations can coexist and that the Fire Nation cares about reperatio-”

Hakoda held up a hand, Zuko went silent, he swallowed again.

The chief looked deep into his eyes, Zuko didn't break the contact.

“I don’t care what your union means politically. I don’t care what message it will send to the other nations, what message it will send for your people, son. I just want to know one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Do you love her?”

Immediately, he answered, “Yes,” his hand settled on his chest, between his two lungs, where he knew the scar sat, “with all my heart.”

Zuko looked around the room, each pair of bright blue eyes were fixed on him.

“I don’t know when I started to, maybe it was the day of the comet, maybe before, maybe after, but when I asked her to come with me to fight my sister and regain my throne, I knew it had to be her that came. I love Katara, but before that, I trust her. I trust her with my life. I trust her with my people and my country. I would die for her.”

Zuko felt it then, the ghost of the pain, the exhilaration, the fear as he watched Azula take aim. “Taking that lightning was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I would do it again, ten thousand times over.”

Bato spoke next, “And she feels the same way?”

Zuko thought, for a second, replaying the last five years in his mind. The image that lingered in his mind was the flashes of blue fire through clear water as she battled Azula, risking her life to defeat the most dangerous firebender in the world, just to save him.

He smiled, gently, “Yes, I know she does.”

Kanna’s face was stone, “You swore an oath to serve your people and your country? Is that correct Fire Lord Zuko?”

He nodded. The elder looked him in the eye. He felt like she was looking deep into his soul.

“In our culture, the marriage vow outweighs any oath to lord or land. Katara must come first, before your throne, before your crown. The binding of two souls is far more ancient than any border or king, as old as the very first marriage of the spirits Tui and La. The promise you will make to each other trumps any other loyalty, and will last beyond your last breath, into the next life. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” he instinctively reached into his pocket, “The only reason Katara doesn't know I’m here is because she would say that asking for permission from the bride's family was an outdated tradition” Sokka smirked at that, “but I also know how much your good opinion means to her, and I don’t want to hide anything from you.

“I want to do this by the book, so I’m here, to ask you personally,” he looked from person to person, “do me and Katara have your blessing for our union?”

There was silence in the room. No one moved. Zuko barely breathed.

Then Kanna rose, slowly. Instinctively Zuko moved to help her but she held up a withered hand and crossed over to him.

“Kneel, and close your eyes.”

Zuko did.

He felt her brush her fingers across his forehead.

“Now,” he looked up, “I, Kanna, matriarch of the Southern Water Tribe, mother to Hakoda, grandmother to Sokka and Katara, grant you my blessing, and the blessings of the spirits for your union.” She looked behind her, “Does anyone present of the bride's family object to the bestoying of the blessing?”

The only response was Sokka’s wide grin. Kanna nodded, and returned to her seat. Zuko stood, he couldnt hid the joy on his face, he bowed, low, to each person in the room.

“So,” Hakoda dawned a smile for himself, “have you carved the necklace?”

___

Later that night, Sokka walked Zuko back to his igloo. After Zuko’s announcement there were multiple rounds of celebratory drinks, and the pair was distinctly drunk. The southern warrior threw his arm around the other man’s shoulders as they neared the entrance.

“You know, Zuko…” He burped, “we all knew it was a matter of time before you asked her. Dad just put you through all those formalities to make you sweat.”

Zuko chuckled, “Well, it worked.”

His friend, and soon to be brother-in-law, turned to him, seriously, "You also have to know Zuko, that if Katara was here she would object to you asking us not just because it's and 'outdated tradition' but because there's no question that our answer would be 'yes'."

The Fire Lord looked at the ground, "I just... wanted to be sure."

Sokka shook his head, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder, "We love you, Zuko. Everyone does. Honestly, I think Gran-gran likes you more than me, which hurts, but whatever," he shrugged, "bottom line, your an important part of this family, and you were long before you an Katara started sucking face." Zuko couldn't hold back a snort of laughter,

"I know, but sometimes it's hard, I'm not used to the whole 'unconditional love' stuff." he looked back, across the shining tops of the tribe, "you all just make it look so...easy."

Sokka laughed, "Yeah, tell that to dad the next time I loose blueprints."

He ruffled Zuko's hair, and returned to his position leaning on him.

“So, when are you formally popping the question?”

Zuko’s eyes traveled over to Katara’s igloo next door, then to the lights of the harbor beyond, and the twinkling stars and moon reflected in the still water.

“She comes back from Ba Sing Se in three weeks, so I figured as soon as she got home.”

Katara’s brother nodded, then grasped each of Zuko’s shoulders, making him look into his eyes, “That means you're staying long enough for bro time?” his brow was furrowed in absolute seriousness.

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

___

!!PLEASE REBLOG WITH THOUGHTS AND CRITICISMS!!

You guuuuuuys... it’s officially Zutara Week!!! YEE HAW!!!

Anyway, I’m sorry there was only indirect Katara in today’s submission. That will be rectified tomorrow. My plan for this year (though I haven't followed any plan for Zutara Week yet) is that all of my submissions will be apart of a linear narrative. It starts with today’s prompt, five years after the war, and goes from there. All of the submissions can be stand alone, but thay can also all be tied together. The only day that won’t follow this is Day Three: Celestial. I really love that particular one so its special. All of this could change, so don’t quote me on that. I hope you enjoyed :D

P.S. I’ll be tagging all my Zutara Week submissions for this year #ems zkw2020

#ems zkw2020 #Zutara week #zutara week 2020 #zutara #Zuko and Katara #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar fanfiction #zutara fanfiction #Zuko #katara #sokka #hakoda #bato

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envyplays · 4 years

Text

Fullmetal Alchemist Collaboration Cafe

Celebrating one of the greatest Manga/Anime out there, this is the Fullmetal Alchemist cafe! This extremely popular cafe ran not only in Tokyo, but Osaka and Nagoya as well. Regardless of which location you choose to go to, you'll need to make a (free) reservation for this cafe.

The cafe, as mentioned before, was held in three seperate locations;

- アニぱらCAFE（池袋） [Anipara CAFE (Ikebukuro)] (20/22/2019 ~ 11/2/2020) - アニぱらCAFE（心斎橋） [Anipara CAFE (Shinsaibashi)] (05/02/2020 ~ 12/04/2020) - アニぱらCAFE（名古屋） [Anipara CAFE (Nagoya)] (5/6/2020 ~ 30/8/2020)

Something special about this cafe is that all locations had three iterations of the menu that ran for a limited time. For this review, I’ll only be covering the 2nd iteration, which is the one I managed to attend.

Al bun

Al has turned into an adorable steamed bun! Packed full of soft delicious red bean paste, this bun is paired with refreshing oolong tea.

Ed bun

Ed has turned into an adorable meat bun! This Ed bun, served in a bamboo basket, is paired with a warming oolong tea.

Ed’s ‘To the Promised Day’ Omurice.

The yellow omelet and red ketchup of this Omurice dish presents the image of a determined Ed facing towards ‘The Promised Day’

Al's hamburger

A hamburger set consisting of an Alphonse hamburger, fries, and a cup of consommé soup☆ Truly a filling menu item.

Roy's rainy day salad

A fresh ham salad with a wafer featuring Roy standing in the center. Recreate the rainy day scene of cornering Scar by pouring the 'rain' dressing over the salad!

A karaage recipe passed down the Armstrong line for generations!

A large serving of crisp Karaage in the shape of Major Armstrong's face! It's an elegant, excellent, filling dish♪

The Havoc General Store's 3 color french fries

Beloved for 80 years! From fixing your pants rubber waistband, to providing armored vehicles, the Havoc General Store has it covered, including the perfect sauces for french fries!

Greedling's greedy tan tan men

Tan tan men representing the scene of Ling accepting 'Greed'! Recommended for the greedy who want to experience deliciously filling flavor and spice in all its splendor.

The pocket watch engraved with the day we set out dessert

Get a taste of Ed’s willpower with this orange and custard dessert representing the pocket watch engraved with the date the brothers set off on their journey.

Winry's apple pie

Passed on from the Hughes family! Winry's special apple pie☆ Topped with a piece of chocolate in the form of a spanner!

Roy's burnt Cheesecake

It smells of burnt cheese... Did the Colonel make this?! Please enjoy this specialty cake.

Lust's velvet cake

A gorgeous velvet cake inspired by the Homunculus of 'lust', Lust herself. Adorned with a wafer of Lust piercing through with her Ultimate Spear!

Scar's roasted soybean flour parfait "Ishval"

A roasted soybean parfait in the image of Scar standing in the Ishvalan Desert☆ You can enjoy the deep and rich flavors of roasted soybean.

Brigg's special gross coffee jelly

Briggs' famous 'gross coffee' has been turned into delicious coffee jelly! Enjoy it together with as much cream as you desire.

Gluttony's "Can I eat these cream puffs?"

An assortment of mini cream puffs inspired by the Homunculus of 'gluttony', Gluttony. Be careful, it seems the Gluttony wafer also wants to dig right in♪

Ed's most hated milk

"Who would want to consume white liquid secreted from a cow?!" As you gulp down this glass that appears to contain Ed's most hated milk, you'll find its actually deliciously sweet white chocolate milk♪

Al's black sesame drink

A delicate and delicious black sesame drink representing Al. It seems some sort of noise is coming from inside Al...?!

Lan fan's violet soda

A refreshingly tasty violet soda. With Violet flowers, meaning 'loyalty' in the language of flowers, Lan fan expresses her emotions for her master in this drink.

Olivier's Royal milk tea

Royal Milk Tea representing the proud, but with a soft spot for her subordinates, Major General Armstrong. Only you can properly judge the flavor, don't let anyone else influence that!

The Philosopher's stone berry tea

Will you be able to ignore the laws of equivalent exchange if you drink this?! It's a cold berry tea with a bright shining Philosophers stone inside!

Trapped inside a jar, Envy’s salty lychee drink.

Be careful not to let Envy escape! This drink is reminiscent of the time in which Envy was trapped inside a jar.

Homunculus cola

A special cola engraved with the mark of the Ouroboros! There appears to be a Philosophers stone floating at the bottom...?!

The dwarf in the flask

Iced coffee inside a flask, representing the 'The Dwarf in the Flask'.

Random Cafe latte

Ed and Al have been turned into adorable Lattes♪ Get excited for which one might show up! You can also purchase the mug itself at the Goods Corner.

---

I visited this cafe on the 21st of March 2020. I was lucky to make it before the cafe was ultimately cut short due to the corona virus.

The cafe itself was downstairs underground, and gave off an almost otherworldly vibe because of it. It felt like as you entered this cafe, you entered into a Fullmetal Alchemist bubble of sorts. It was absolutely wonderful. The inside of the cafe was small, but lacked customers, making it feel quite spacious despite that. It also featured a wall in which visitors could draw on sticky-notes and post their thank-you messages. Not to mention, the unique bathroom... covered in images of Major Armstrong...

As per usual, for each item you order from the menu, you'll receive a unique randomized coaster. This time you’ll also receive one of several different design lunch mats, as well.

As for what I ordered, for main I went with "Ed’s ‘To the Promised Day’ Omurice.". The soft omelette combined with the refreshing tomato sauce always makes for a wonderful combination. I think the presentation was also quite unique with all the dishes I tried that day.

For dessert, I continued the Ed theme, and went for "The pocket watch engraved with the day we set out dessert". This dessert was... unique. It was mostly just wafers in order to make up the pocket watches shape, with a small amount of cream to go with it. While it certainly was a sign to behold in terms of presentation... I think it was slightly lacking in the flavor department unfortunately.

Lastly, I ordered a single drink. Of course, I absolutely had to choose "Trapped inside a jar, Envy’s salty lychee drink.", all things considered. It was my first experience with salty lychee, and it was lovely and refreshing.

All in all, this was the 2nd cafe I ever visited, and while I was nervous at first, I believe this is the one that made me fall in love with Anime cafes and kick start my adventures with them. It was an emotional experience, with how much FMA means to me, and it means even more so now. I have many things to thank FMA for and I truly hope to see another FMA themed cafe again someday.

#FMA #Fullmetal Alchemist #anime cafe #cafe #FMA brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood

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vernontheworld · 4 years

Text

scandal cafe | {f}, {r}, slight {c}, slight {s}

pairing | prince!vernon x waitress!reader

genre | {f}, {r}, slight {s}, slight {c}

characters | prince naveen!vernon, tiana!reader, buford!jeonghan, cafe owner!seungcheol, doctor facilier!joshua, lawrence!chan, waiter/chef!the rest of svt

warnings | much profanity (especially in french)

summary | When the handsome Prince of Maldonia visits the cafe you work at, you aren’t immediately drawn to his behaviour––he was spoiled and threw fits often. However, when he decides to hold his wedding at the cafe you work at, you’re irked. And so, to get your revenge, you seek out Doctor Joshua–– the magician– to make him turn the prince into a frog at his wedding––with a price. But when the prince finds you in the garden of the cafe, he’s convinced that you’re the one that could turn him back into a human.

MC, kissing the frog - nikki (published 2020)

“vernon...” you look down at the ugly frog in your hands, willing yourself to imagine a handsome boy “what?” vernon blinks “whatever,” you say as you have a steamy make out session with a fucking frog. but oh no now you’re a frog.

“Here you go, a latte,” you smiled brightly, presenting the cup of coffee to the customer. “Would you like anything else?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

Spinning around and humming a tune, you clutched the tray to your chest as you returned to the kitchen. Putting the tray back onto the counter, you murmured, “My own restaurant one day…ah…how surreal.”

Jeonghan snorted. “Really? You’re still muttering about the nonsensical wishes of yours, wanting to own a restaurant one day? Dream on, Y/N.”

Jeonghan was a senior staff in the cafe you were working in and whenever you talked about wanting to own your own restaurant, he––and the other cafe staff––would laugh loudly. And they would laugh and laugh, until a customer complains and threatens to give Duke’s Cafe a one-star review. He was always there to criticise you for your dreams. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t give up.

You shook your head and sighed. “You would think that minding your own damn business is even easier than to open a restaurant. Please, for the love of god, leave me alone. Ta guele [1], Jeonghan. Tu m'emmerdes [2].”

He slammed the counter as he chortled, choking on his own saliva in the process. “You would know, wouldn’t you, cherie [3]? Always in that little cottage of yours, writing some recipe down quietly,” he replied, sarcasm laced into his voice. You didn’t like his tone. It was terrifying to hear, and you didn’t want to listen on to his terribly beautiful voice (such a waste, really! He could become an opera singer, but he chose to live the life of a waiter. His talent was also wasted on such a nasty attitude…).

“At least I’m doing something useful, amour [4],” you grumbled, wiping the tables aggressively after you walked away from the counter. Making sure he wasn’t in earshot, you muttered under your breath, “Faux cul [5].”

As you continued to wipe the tables after the customers had left, you noticed that the cafe was suddenly very empty. Why was that? It was only twelve o’clock, the cafe would usually be bustling during this time. What was with the sudden change?

“Welcome, Your Highness, Prince Hansol. Please, take a seat,” the voice of the cafe’s owner––Seungcheol– rang out. The Prince of Maldonia…here? In this small cafe?

You looked up, and you found that the prince was staring at you. For a split second, you maintained eye contact, but then you ripped your gaze away and hurried behind the counter, into the kitchen, where Jeonghan hissed at you to go to.

“You are extremely lucky that the prince didn’t come earlier, lest he would have seen us arguing and would have left the cafe a bad review,” he muttered. You sighed. You were always the one to blame. But…whatever. You were used to this.

Setting down the tray you were carrying with you, you straightened out your apron and picked up the little notepad that was used to write down customers’ orders.

“Y/N!” Seungcheol called out, and you answered. “Yes?” Hurrying out of the kitchen, you grabbed a pen, hastily making your way to his side. Bowing at the prince, you held up the notepad and posed your pen, ready to write.

Looking at the menu, he spoke. “I’ll get a…bouillabaisse [6]. I’ve heard that it’s the cafe’s specialty.” As you scribbled furiously on the notepad, he looked up. “This is a French cafe?”

“Oui,” you answered. “The French founded us. New Orleans was named after Orleans, the town Jeanne d’Arc [7] defended, so we must carry on the French history.”

“Jeanne d’Arc, huh…”

“Why? Is there any problem?” You cocked your head. “Jeanne d’Arc is a hero, is she not? There is even a monument erected for her glory.”

He shook his head. “Never mind. I was thinking that I should visit the monument today… ah, do you have any iced water? It’s burning outside.”

“The monument is beautiful, so it is a good choice,” you murmured. Engrossed in your small talk, you didn’t notice that Jeonghan was beckoning you into the kitchen until Seungcheol kicked your leg. “Ah! I have to go prepare your order. Je suis desolee [8]!”

You heard Seungcheol mutter behind you, but you didn’t care enough to listen in on what he was telling the prince. Rushing back into the kitchen, you yelled, “One serving of bouillabaisse!”

Hearing the plates clatter, you ripped out the sheet of paper from the notepad and clipped it onto the string with a wooden washing peg. You grabbed a glass, filled it up with ice and brought it to the pitcher that was on the cart just outside of the kitchen, and filled up the glass with water.

Placing it on a tray, you brought it to the table that Prince Hansol was sitting at. “Iced water for the prince,” you smiled, and set it on the table. “How long more for the food? I’m quite hungry,” he asked, and you let out a ‘hmm’. “Je ne suis pas sur [9]…it’s only been a few minutes since they’ve started cooking it though, so I’d suspect fifteen minutes more, probably? It’s only an estimate.”

Turning around, you returned to the counter and poked your head into the kitchen. “How long more until the food is ready? Le prince est impatient [10].”

“Twenty more minutes, Y/N!” Mingyu shouted back at you, and you nodded. Returning to the table, you informed the prince, “The food will be ready in twenty minutes.”

Leaning back in his chair, the prince closed his eyes in frustration. His butler, whom you hadn’t noticed, leaned forward and patted his bicep. “Come on, Hansol, you know you can’t be like this. Ah, I’m sorry for his selfish behaviour, he’s very spoiled,” he apologised to you and bowed.

You shook your head frantically. “Non, c’est bon [11]! He is a prince, he must be treated as he should be.”

He sighed. “He came here expecting to be treated like one, but no one recognised him, so he threw a fit. He’s quite the spoiled prince, tu ne trouves pas [12]?”

You murmured a yes as you watched the prince. He was mumbling aggressively, shaking his leg as he complained. Deciding that you didn’t want to watch him any longer, you returned to the kitchen.

“Y/N! The prince’s bouillabaisse is done!” Seungkwan called out, and you nodded. Picking up a tray from the counter, you placed the bouillabaisse on the tray, moving towards the prince again. Wanting to say ‘careful, it’s hot’ and ‘here’s your bouillabaisse’ to the prince, you mixed the words up and accidentally said, “Careful, it’s bouillabaisse.”

You froze as you thought through your words again. Flushing red, you stammered, “Oh! I–I meant… c- careful, it’s hot, but I mixed it up! Ah…je suis desolee, Prince Hansol!” Trying to fix the situation, you rambled out apologies in all the languages you knew– mainly, English, French and Spanish. “Lo siento [13]!”

Shutting your eyes tightly, you wished that a hole would just open up and swallow you alive. That way, you wouldn’t have to deal with this embarrassing situation and you would never hear Jeonghan’s mocking ever again. A win for you, honestly.

Suddenly, you heard him burst out laughing. “It’s fine! We all get confused at times. Though…usually not around people you don’t want to mess up around, but I’m good. It was a good laugh…what was your name? Y/N?”

You nodded eagerly, glad to hear that you hadn’t completely made a fool out of yourself in front of the Prince of Maldonia. At least, you were laughing with them at yourself, so the tension in your shoulders relaxed and you released your breath that you didn’t realise you were holding.

“What a cute poulette [14]! Isn’t she, Your Highness?” The butler– who had introduced himself as Chan––asked, nudging the prince. “Oui, oui…mignonne [15], indeed…” Prince Hansol murmured, in his own world.

“Oh! You speak French?” You asked, eyebrows raising. He nodded. “My father is French. He taught me how to speak it, so I can understand you and your French ramblings.” He looked up at you. “Especially vos vulgarites [16] about someone named Jeonghan.”

You flushed, embarrassed that he heard you cursing. “I swear a lot. Oops.” If Jeonghan heard you, he would absolutely behead you, but thankfully, you were around the prince. “Let’s just say, he is…il est raclure de bidet [17]!” Cursing out loud, you covered your mouth and looked around to see whether anyone had heard you. Thankfully, none of the staff in the cafe heard you, lest they would have either glared (Jeonghan and Seungcheol) or gaped at you (the rest of the staff).

He started to laugh again, and you chuckled nervously. Were you about to get in trouble? “My, my…how vulgar,” he drawled, a smirk drawn out on his lips. He leaned forward, placing his chin on his hand that was placed upright on the table and murmured, “I like that.”

Taking a step back, your ears turned pink as your eyebrows shot up. Hiding the bottom half of your face, you tightened your grip on the tray as your stomach filled with butterflies. “A–ah…don’t you think that’s quite scandalous? For someone of the royal family to have such an…interest?” You asked…and he nodded his head.

“Non, minette [18]…” He stood up, approaching you, and as he brought his face extremely close to yours, he breathed, “I like scandalous.”

And then he walked out of the cafe, with the bill on the tray you held.

•

Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since you had seen Prince Hansol. The Duke’s Cafe was all prepared to host a wedding, but you didn’t know whose wedding it was. Whoever was getting married, you wished them a happy marriage.

“Y/N! The wedding will start in a few hours, we need to cover the tables with the blue tablecloth over there! Quickly, quickly, or Prince Hansol’s wedding will be ruined,” Wonwoo yelled at you. You nodded, until something hit you.

Prince Hansol’s…wedding?

You felt a pang as you processed the thought in your head. Prince Hansol, the spoiled, flirtatious, infuriatingly handsome boy who had told you that he liked scandalous…

…had a fiancee?

“Y/N? We need to cover the tables,” Wonwoo called out again. Murmuring an ‘okay’, you made your way to the blue tablecloths and picked them up.

“Hey, Wonwoo…did you know that Prince Hansol had a fiancee?” You asked absentmindedly, unfolding the tablecloth and raising up your hands quickly to cut through the air and lay the cloth on the table. “He doesn’t seem like the type to marry someone.”

“Hm…he came to New Orleans to marry someone, I heard. His father is dying of a disease, so he needs to have a queen to take the throne and rule Maldonia,” he replied. “He has older brothers, but he’s the favourite son. Irresponsible, but lovable, which is why he earned the favour of the people in Maldonia. I’m quite surprised, actually…”

Zoning out, you tuned out of Wonwoo’s talking. He came to New Orleans to marry someone. And that day, when he dared to flirt with a waitress…

You should have known. You were only a waitress in a small cafe. How would a prince marry you? Nonetheless, you still felt hurt that he made you flustered, only to find someone else as his fiancee and hold the wedding in the cafe you were working at.

Oh, no. Now you weren’t just hurt, but you were angry. How dare he? He made you feel special, and he dares to hold his wedding here?

“Wonwoo, is it okay if I take a short break and head out for a bit? I’ll take over during the wedding,” you asked, and he sighed. “Alright. Go, go, to wherever you need to be.”

“Merci [19]!” You yelled, grabbing your things and rushing out the door. You were fuming. Oh, how you would teach the prince a lesson! Never would he mess with anyone’s hearts ever again…

Storming into the square, you entered a narrow alleyway. “Where is he, where is he…” You mumbled, searching for the familiar sign. Heading further into the alley, you spotted the bright yellow sign, and you pushed the heavy wooden door open, the bells on the door ringing with a faint tintinnabulation.

“My, my, what brings you here?” A man, dressed in all black, turned around.

So he was the magician– or the doctor, as he called himself. He was known for casting curses on others, so people tended to avoid the alleyway you took– but you came here with a purpose. This man, his name was––

––Doctor Joshua.

“I’m here to request something from you,” you told him confidently. “I want you to turn someone into a frog.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Interesting request, indeed. But you know…there is a price for everything?” He asked. “Nothing is free, you see. Even as I cast a spell on someone, it takes a toll on me.” Raising his left hand, he removed the glove on it, and you saw…

Fear. Pure fear.

His hand was mutated, it seemed– the veins on his hand had turned black, and there was something just pumping through them. The things under his skin wriggled around, as if they were trying to gain control of his hand. Black, thorny vines ran around his slender fingers, almost like an accessory––but when you looked closer, it was piercing through his hand.

You shuddered. Would that happen to you?

“No, mon sucre d’orge [20]…the price you will pay is that if you don’t kiss the frog within three days, you too will become a frog,” he drawled, his voice like glazed honey, and his lips curved into a leer. Despite his sweet voice, he was describing something absolutely terrifying. The thought of kissing a frog was horrifying, but becoming a frog was even worse. You would never be able to open a restaurant, ever, if you became a frog.

But you wanted the prince to learn his lesson, no matter the cost. What a spoiled brat! You hated him––at least, you felt like he deserved to be hated––and you wanted him to feel the pain of his oh-so-infuriatingly good looking face disappear, only to see a frog in the place of his sharp features. Oh, how satisfying it would be to just see him like that!

You were willing to sacrifice your first kiss to a frog just so that you could make him see that he was one selfish little piece of––

“So what’s your decision?” Doctor Joshua asked, slipping on his glove onto his hand again. Picking up bottles from the counter behind him, he held it up. “Ready to sacrifice your entire future and humanity to turn someone into a frog?”

You nodded. You could either give your first kiss to a frog or turn into one yourself––but either way, you would still teach the prince a lesson. And both of your options also resulted in your life possibly being ruined by a frog, so it’s a win-win situation, honestly!

“Yes, yes…excellent choice. When will you want this to happen? For research purposes only,” he smiled wickedly, showing his pearly white teeth. “Lovely species, the poison dart frog. And a very beautiful one as well.”

A poison dart frog.

A poison.

Dart.

Frog.

“Poison…poison dark frog? Are––are you sure you have got the right one––” You started, gasping as the thought registered in your head.

Your future would be gone either way.

So that was the true price you had to pay. Death…or your humanity. Alright. You could make do. Perhaps being a frog isn’t as bad as you make it out to be––

Oh, who were you kidding? You were petrified. So, so, afraid, and yet, you wanted the prince to learn his lesson. What a stubborn doe, you were.

“Poison dart frogs. Beautiful, and so colourful…” Doctor Joshua murmured, already making his…whatever-potion he was making. “Ah, yes, and you haven’t told me where you want it to take place, nor the person you want it to happen to.”

Raising your head, you took a deep breath.

“Prince Hansol of Maldonia, at Duke’s Cafe, just as he’s about to walk down the aisle,” you told him. “But don’t harm any of the people around him, please.”

There was a twinkle in his eye, and his lips stretched into a grin that was like the Cheshire Cat’s. “Very well,” he said, turning around. “Expect this to come. Oh yes, and you should be in the garden when it happens. Your night is going to be long.”

•

As you rushed back to the cafe, you noticed a crowd gathering around it––was it because they heard of the prince’s wedding taking place?

Looking at your watch, you gasped. There was only a few minutes left until the start of the wedding! Hurrying to the cafe, you slipped on your apron and counted the people attending the wedding. A hundred and fifty-two people––thank goodness the cafe was catering with a buffet! You would be exhausted after working tonight.

The ever-so-famous song––Treulich gefuhrt [21]––started to play, and you swayed your head from side to side as you headed to the opposite side of the cafe, bearing Doctor Joshua’s words in your mind. The amber lights of the cafe twinkled behind you, and as the guests clapped, you clenched your fists.

Opening the heavy wood door that was carved with intricate designs, you slipped out of the cafe and sat by the fountain on the soft grass, playing with a dandelion as you waited for something to happen. You could still hear the familiar tune playing softly, and you hummed to it.

And then––

There were screams. You would have thought something like a murder was taking place with those noises, but you knew better. Hearing someone shout “Where’s my fiance? What happened––” and then an ear-piercing scream was definitely one of the most nightmare-inducing sounds you had ever heard.

“Oh, this is all going wrong!” You heard a groan, and as you turned your head, you saw something blue.

Really, really, bright blue.

Poison dart frog.

“Hello? Is anyone out here? I may look ugly now, but I was a human before…! And I can guarantee that if you turn me back into a human I’ll marry you! I’m the Prince of Maldonia, take my word for it!”

Yep. It was him––the terrible Prince Hansol. You tried to hold back your laughter at his desperation, but you choked on your saliva and coughed very loudly. Seeing the bright blue frog turn its head towards you, it bounded towards you and you held out your hands frantically.

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t come too close! You’re a poison dart frog, any contact with me and I could die!” You yelled, shaking your hands as the prince––or, the frog, as you could refer to him as now––came closer to you. He stopped in front of you, just where your skirts ended, and you sighed in relief.

“You aren’t…freaking out? About a talking frog?” He asked, confused, cocking his head (or what little of a head he had left, considering he barely has a neck now).

Well, I’m the one who turned you into a frog, so I’m not surprised, really.

You shook your head. “I encounter all sorts of strange things every day, so if a frog comes up to me and talks I’m not surprised anymore.”

There was a little silence for a while, and then a burst of excitement from the frog. “Really? Then you must have been the one who was sent to turn me back into a human! You’re the waitress from before, right? I knew it! You’re the only one that can turn me back into a human…and that wretched witch-doctor told me that only a kiss from my true love could turn me back. Please…please kiss me! Let me turn back into a human!” He cried out, clutching his little heart.

You sat there, speechless.

“You do realise…you’re a poison dart frog?”

Another moment of silence.

“Oh.”

“Oui.”

The both of you sat there, thinking. You were mainly pondering on how to leave him as a frog without turning into one yourself, and he was wondering how he could get you to kiss him without you getting poisoned.

“Shall we…take a walk? Around town, I mean,” you suggested. “To keep your mind off…stuff. It’s especially tiring to focus on such stressing matters. I mean, it would wrinkle your perfect face, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure. I suppose we could have an adventure together, since I’m a frog…” He murmured. “What should we do, though? I don’t think there’s anything interesting in New Orleans.”

“We could go see the statue of Jeanne d’Arc,” you said. “It’s in Vieux Carre. We could just sit there at the benches and feed the pigeons, I guess.”

He nodded. “Alright…let’s go, then.”

Walking alongside the blue frog as he hopped on the streets, you asked (even though you already knew the answer, but it was to fill the void of silence), “What happened to you? Why’d you suddenly…turn into a frog?”

He answered, “A witch-doctor came up to me and offered me a purple drink. I drank it––and it was extremely sweet, so I thought it was just one of your delicacies here. And just as I was about to walk down the aisle, I was turned into a frog. Connard [22]…!”

“I see…”

“Well, yes, you would see,” he replied, gesturing to himself with the small hands and arms that he had. You laughed. “Yes, I do indeed see. But really, I think poison dart frogs are a very pretty species of frogs. They’re not that bad, aside from the fact that touching one could be fatal, but I think the good outweighs the bad!”

“I suppose. Maybe being a frog isn’t so bad, after all,” he mumbled. “Maybe…”

The two of you continued walking along the streets cheerfully. Though you were quite worried about your life, you tossed that thought aside and kept on walking.

“You know…I really resent being a frog. It’s really…unsettling to me, to see everyone at such a large scale. I’m so used to being taller than everyone and looking down at them,” he spoke. You hummed. “You don’t say, Your Highness, stepping on foot stools all the time and sitting on a throne to answer to requests. You don’t say.”

“Your Highness, huh…” He murmured. “Strange, being so small, yet being addressed as ‘Your Highness’. You know what…I will grant you permission to use my real name––Hansol. Oh, and…being royalty isn’t all about sitting on thrones and listening to people…”

You zoned out for a while, thinking. If being part of the royal family not about answering to their people what was it?

“Hello? Y/N? Are you still there?” The prince––Hansol, as you could call him as now––asked, and you nodded absentmindedly. “Yes. I just…thought about some things. Ah, continue on with what you were saying. I’ll listen attentively this time.” “Hm…being a part of the royal family means that you need to make decisions for your people, and making sure that you and your country wouldn’t suffer in the future for your decision-making. It’s tiring––I see it from my father’s face––and I’ve only been through a part of it. Being the king of Maldonia…it has taken a toll on Father. I’m afraid it’ll happen to me,” he continued. “Ascending to the throne…what a surreal thought. I never thought for a second that I would have to handle this responsibility when I was younger, but now…”

“Mhm…I get you,” you murmured. “The pressure. It must be so intense.”

“It is,” he nodded. “I want Father to get better, but the doctors say that he needs less stress in order to recover well. The stress comes from managing Maldonia, but…if he steps down, I’ll have to take the throne. And I can’t imagine me, at twenty-two years old, already a king…that is, if I ever get out of this form.” He groaned. “If I’m stuck as a frog forever, how am I supposed to take the throne…how is Father going to recover? I don’t want him to die…!”

You felt an intense pang of guilt hit you. You were the one who asked Doctor Joshua to turn Hansol into a frog, not knowing his troubles and worries. Oh, if only you could turn back time…!

“If only…if only there was some kind of doctor that could save Father,” he sobbed, stopping behind you.

Some kind of doctor.

“Hey, Hansol…” You turned around, eyes searching for the blue frog. Making eye contact, you told him, “I know a doctor that can heal your father.”

His eyes immediately brightened. “Really? Who is this doctor? Could he really save Father from his illness?”

“Yes. Come with me, I’ll take you there,” you said, beckoning him forward. “But you have to promise me not to run away when you see him.”

He nodded eagerly. “I promise. What kind of doctor would make me run away? He could save Father! Why would I try to escape from someone who could save my entire future?”

•

Hansol wanted to run away, just as you had expected.

“Why are we here?” He grumbled, sitting on the floor uncomfortably as you talked to Doctor Joshua again. “I think I’ll just…”

You shot him a glare, and he stayed put where he was. “Tu m’emmerdes,” you hissed. “I’ll save your father. Just give me a moment more and we can be out of here.” “You know the price, cherie, for trying to extend one’s life?” Doctor Joshua asked, and you shook your head. His leer grew wider, and he pulled up his gloves even higher onto his forearms. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and…”

“A life for a life,” you breathed, eyes widening.

“C'est vrai [23],” he laughed, shoulders shaking. “Ah, but whose life will you take? Your own, of course. Only a few years will do, if you want your father––” he jerked his head towards the blue frog–– “to live for a few more years. The more years on his life that goes up, the more years from yours that comes down.”

Only a few years. That was fine. After all, you would die trying to kiss Hansol anyway, so why not?

“I’ll do it,” Hansol said, and the both of you––Doctor Joshua and you––turned your heads to face him. You were astounded, and Doctor Joshua was amused.

“Very well,” he said, and he began to mix his elixirs together. “Where and when, hmm?”

“Wait! You can’t––I refuse to let you do it!” You yelled, gaining the attention of both males in the room. “I refuse to let Hansol take away his life for his father’s! I will use my own. Take the years from my life away,” you told him. His eyebrows shot up, but a grin replaced his expression. “And why would you want to sacrifice your own life, hmm? Could there be something you think you need to repay?”

Why, curse you, little piece of…!

You scrunched up your nose. It was now or never––you needed to learn some honesty, so here went––

“Hansol! I…I don’t want you to give up your life…b-because…I was the one who turned you into a frog!” You confessed, shutting your eyes tightly. All you could hear was silence, and the terrifying laugh of Doctor Joshua.

“What…” He started, but you shushed him, and swept your hand towards the door, beckoning him to go out. He did, and you sighed.

“What did you mean by…you were the one who turned me into a frog?” He asked, bringing you back into the situation. Freezing up, you stammered, “I-I was the one who asked Doctor Joshua to turn you into a f-frog…”

Silence.

And then…

“Why?”

Just a why. A very, very, calm why, but you knew it hid much anger in it.

“I was angry.”

A simple answer, just like the simple question he had given you.

But looking back at it, you didn’t know why. You were angry. Furious, even, but…honestly, you didn’t even know why you did it.

“Why?”

“You were annoying.”

Even though you knew that wasn’t what he was asking for, you were trying your best to evade the question as much as possible.

“You know the real question I’m asking. Why? Why did you do it? Why did you decide to ruin my life?”

It was a stupid reason, you realised, which was why you didn’t want to say it. It sounds so dumb, that even now you’re the one questioning yourself.

“…I was mad. Not because you were a prince, but…you decided to play with my feelings and then marry someone? I mean, I understand––I’m not exactly queen material, but why did you have be so suggestive? Get my hopes up, when you wouldn’t marry me in the first place? Idiot!” You cried out.

There was silence, for a while. And then––he laughed. Really, really, loudly. “So, you’re saying…you were jealous?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

You were, indeed, a liar. A very big one, in fact––and you felt bad for lying to him. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

He was right. He was always right––but then again, you were pretty much wrong for abandoning your shift to turn someone into a frog. The guilt hit you again, and you looked down. “Oui. I’m sorry…I’m sorry for asking Doctor Joshua to turn you into a frog. But now, you’re probably stuck like this forever…”

“Hmm. I…I don’t blame you, honestly. I know that I would probably do the same thing, if given the suggestion. It––it was quite selfish of me to do that. I’m sorry. I really am,” he mumbled. “Would you…would you forgive me?”

Right then, you really, really, felt like kissing him.

Maybe it was because he was a prince, or perhaps you had truly fallen in love with him, but you felt the sudden urge to kiss him.

“Kiss me. Right now,” you said, and he looked at you, confused. “You would die.”

“I know. Just do it.”

As you knelt down and leaned forward, you prepared yourself for death. It wasn’t how you expected your life to end, but hey, at least it was a good memory before you died!

“On three, two…”

You closed your eyes.

“One.”

At first, you felt nothing. Maybe that was how death was like? Dark, silent, and just…nothing. And then…

A pair of lips––human lips, just barely touching your own––moved against yours. And you heard a very, very, familiar voice speak.

“You know, I never thought my first kiss would have me down on the ground, lying on someone’s lap as I finished arguing outside of a witch-doctor’s residence,” Hansol laughed, and you lifted your head, opening your eyes as you saw the prince again.

Not a frog, but a real human.

“You’re…you’re back. Into a human. And I’m alive.”

“Indeed, amour. What do you think of the view? Perhaps I am the most handsome man alive,” he grinned, and it took you a long time to comprehend it.

You were alive.

And he was a human again.

No way.

“I’m alive.”

He cupped your face in his hands, gently tilting your chin so that you were looking directly at him. “Hey, hey…it’s okay. You’re here. You’re alive. It’s alright, minette. I’m here,” he whispered, pulling himself up to embrace you tightly. “You’re alive.”

Sobbing into his shirt, you clenched your fists, letting the tears fall out of your eyes.

“I’m alive.”

•

“Seungcheol.”

Knocking harshly on the door, you stood there and waited for him to open the door to let you in. “Yes?”

“I’m quitting.”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean? You can’t just quit!”

“I can,” you sniffed. “Putain de merde. Je quitte [24]!”

Throwing off your apron, you flung it onto a chair. “Wait––Y/N! You’re our best waiter here––you can’t––”

But you were already out the door, and Hansol was there to smile at you encouragingly. “Good riddance. I didn’t like the way that Jeonghan was treating you. I saw how he treated you, and he also talked badly about you to me, so I think it’s good that you quit,” he mused.

“But what about your father? Without Doctor Joshua’s help…”

“I’ll take his place as king. I should do things honestly now, I think. Besides, you still haven’t answered me.”

You stopped walking, cocking your head. “What question of yours have I not answered?”

He grinned, clasping your hands in his, and he put his forehead to close to yours. Curious, you leaned forward, making your foreheads touch.

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyebrows shot up, but you teased, “Maybe. What are you offering? The stars?”

“Pour toi bébé, je décrocherai la lune [25],” he smirked. “So…what do you say, ma belle [26]?”

“Of course, mon loup [27],” you replied, moving your head forward until your lips almost touched his. “Let’s run to the sunset and hunt the stars at night.”

“Good, because I intend on hunting tonight,” he murmured, and pressed his lips to cover yours.

“Let’s make it a scandal.”

translations/footnotes:

[1] ta guele - French: you’re shitting me (literal); you’re pissing me off [2] tu m’emmerdes - French: shut up [3] cherie - French: sweetheart (sarcastic) [4] amour - French: love (sarcastic) [5] faux cul - French: false ass (literal); hypocrite [6] bouillabaisse - a French dessert [7] Jeanne d’Arc - a French heroine for her role during the Lancastrian phase of the Hundred Years’ War, and died by burning at the stake for heresy [8] je suis desolee - French: i’m sorry (feminine - desolee) [9] je ne suis pas sur - French: i’m not sure [10] le prince est impatient - French: the prince is impatient [11] non, c’est bon - French: no, it’s fine [12] tu ne trouves pas? - French: don’t you think so? [13] lo siento - Spanish: i’m sorry [14] poulette - French nickname, usually for friends [15] mignonne - French: cute (feminine) [16] (vos) vulgarites - French: (your) vulgarities [17] il est raclure de bidet - French: he is [a] bidet scum (don’t use this around people whom you don’t know! it’s very rude and i blush to translate) [18] minette - French: kitten (nickname) [19] merci - French: thank you [20] mon sucre d’orge - French: my little candy [21] Treulich gefuhrt - song that is more commonly known as the Bridal Chorus or Here Comes The Bride, from the opera Lohengrin by German composer Richard Wagner [22] connard - French: asshole (masculine) [23] c'est vrai - French: that’s right [24] putain de merde. Je quitte - French: fuck this shit. I’m quitting! [25] pour toi bébé, je décrocherai la lune - French: for you baby, i’ll get the moon (pickup line) [26] ma belle - French: my beauty [27] mon loup - French: my wolf (nickname)

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robbybirdy · 4 years

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Chapter 31: Briella’s Winterfest Baking 20: Champagne Cookies

Sul Sul, Gerbits. It’s only a couple hours left until we see a new decade. So I was reading Baking all year round by Rosanna Pansinno again, and I found her Champagne Cookies. I thought that they would be perfect for this particular night.

For the Cookies you will need all purpose flour, kinda keep forgetting that there are different types of flour out there. You will also need, baking powder, salt, butter or margarine, powdered sugar, 1 egg, corn syrup. The recipe calls for sparkling wine extract, but I used Welch’s sparkling juice and that tasted really good. The measurements for the recipe will be in the description below.

We will make the icing in a little bit, but you will need to egg whites, powdered sugar, cream of tartar, honey (if you have it), salt and vanilla extract.

For the cookies, in a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and salt.

In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the butter and powdered sugar until it is all light and fluffy. Which will probably take about 3 to 5 minutes.

Next you are going to add the egg and corn syrup. Making sure to beat well.

You are going to beat in the sparkling juice or wine extract.

On a low speed, beat in the flour mixture until is is combined with the wet ingredients.

Shape the dough into a disk shape, and wrap it in plastic wrap. Refrigerate it for at least 1 hour, this way the dough is easier to use when rolling it out.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line 2 sheets, to start with, with parchment paper.

Make sure you are working on a clean surface. Lightly flour your surface, and your rolling pin. Roll out the dough to about ¼ inch thick.

Cut out the cookies using a champagne flute cookie cutter, is what the recipe says to do.

However, what I did was I used a circle and a bell cookie cutter, and I halved them. I used the other half as the stem of the glass. Place the cookies at least 1 inch apart.

The recipe says to bake it for about 14 minutes. However, I was a little afraid of that number, so I put the cookies in for 8 minutes, and they turned out really good. If the cookies aren’t done yet, you can bake them for another 1-2 minutes. You want the bottoms to be slightly brown. Let them cool on the baking sheets for 2 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

While the cookies are cooling you can make your royal icing. To do so you are going to need a large bowl, and with an electric mixer, beat the egg whites, powdered sugar, and cream of tartar until it is a thick and smooth texture. This will take about 5 to 6 minutes.

Then you are going to beat in the honey, salt and vanilla until it is smooth for about 1 minute.

Now it’s time to decorate the cookies! Ice the cookies the way you want to. Decorating is an art form so if you feel like following the recipe then go for it, but if you don’t or you are like me and dead tired, you decorate the cookies the way you want to.

I had so much fun making these cookies. My mom and I decorated these cookies together. It was really fun, because at some point we just started pouring sprinkles on all the cookies. It was so much fun. Again, I hope that you all have a good New Year. May 2020 be a good one. Vadish, Dag Dag!

Ponder-ing Life Description

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Recipe by Rosanna Pansinno via. Baking all your round

Champagne Cookies

2 ¼ Cups all purpose flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

12 tablespoons (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter at room temperature or margarine.

1 cup powdered sugar

1 large egg

2 tablespoons corn syrup

2 ½ teaspoons sparkling wine extract or sparkling juice.

Royal Icing

3 large egg whites

4 cups powdered sugar

¼ cream of tartar

1 teaspoon honey

¼ salt

¼ teaspoon vanilla extract

For the cookies

Make the champagne cookies: in a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt.

In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, bat the butter and powdered sugar until light and fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes.

Add the egg and corn syrup and beat well.

Beat in the sparkling wine extract.

On low speed, beat in the four mixture until combined.

Shape the dough into a disk and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 350 F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to ¼ inch thick. Cut out cookies using the champagne flute cookie cutter and place them 1 inch apart on the baking sheets.

Bake until the cookies are firm to the touch but not browned at the edges, about 14 minutes.

Let cool on the baking sheets for 2 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

For the icing:

In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the egg whites, powdered sugar, and cream of tartar until thick and smooth, 5 to 6 minutes.

Beat in the honey, salt, and vanilla until smooth, about 1 minute.

Decorating the cookies

Make the royal icing. Scoop it into a decorating bag fitted #3 tip

Outline the cookies with icing, then fill in the centers. Let the icing harden for about 1 hour.

Pipe a second layer of icing in the shape of the champagne. While the icing is still wet, cover with sanding sugar.

Using a dab of icing, place pearl sprinkles on the cookie to look like bubbles.

#TS4 #Random Alphabet Legacy Challenge #Generation B #Briella's Winterfest Baking #Champagne Cookies

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feijoacrumble · 4 years

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I know I’m never Online any more but a brief life update:

things are good!

I’ve got three weeks off work for xmas/summer

my coworkers gave me some really lovely gifts/cards for christmas and I didn’t know they were going to (and I didn’t get anyone anything! because I didn’t know it was a whole thing!) but I’m :’)

went to a picnic today

tomorrow I’m going to see a Star War

I’ve done and wrapped all my present shopping (including, hilariously enough, the present my sister is going to give me)

we’ve put the MARZIPAN on the CAKE at fucking last! hopefully by tomorrow it will have dried enough for us to ice it and put Extreme Ski Santa in his rightful place*

I’ve booked my family in to go to hobbiton and the glow worm caves in january

also going to try and get to goat island (I want to do the glass bottom boat again) and tiritiri matangi

read some good** books in 2019

it’s strawberry season, and very soon it will be cherry season

2020 is going to be exciting and my whole life is going to change

* Extreme Ski Santa is a charming traditional Christmas cake topper of a jolly old santa going for a gentle ski. due to the unique dimensions of our baking tin, Delia Smith’s fruit cake recipe, and the container we store the cake in, the only way to fit santa is on a particular oblique angle. naturally the way to justify this is to score tracks in the royal icing behind him as he rounds a hairpin bend, and thus: Exreme Ski Santa was born

**I enjoyed and/or Cannot Stop Thinking About, not necessarily actually good

#personal

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mabelhernandez · 4 years

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THINGS TO DO ON CRISTMAS!

Personally, Christmas is one of my favorite celebrations. Who does not love that time where everything smells like love and Christmas cookies? This blog will be tips like what colors are fashionable for the Christmas tree, recipes for Christmas cookies, Christmas movies, etc ... that will help you make Christmas a wonderful day.

1. Create decorations. For Christmas morning, you probably already have all your hanging lights and hanging ornaments, but you can always add them to the collection. I love that time we spent together with my mom, sister and I at the end of the whole decoration we were filled with glitter by The Christmas tree balls.

These are the colors that most attract my attention to put them in my Christmas tree:

1.Metallic: gold, copper, and silver

2.Black and white

2.Sea blue

3. Old rose with golden details

4.Green and red, classic like Christmas carols

2. Marathon movies.

Films:

The Grinch

My poor angel

Gremlins

The knight before Christmas

A Christmas prince

A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding

A Christmas Prince: The Real Baby

Princess Change

A wish for Christmas

Series:

Merry Happy Whatever

The good place

Christmas at home

Christmas days

Baby 2

* These are the ones I've seen of Christmas but there are many more.

Bake cookies.

Who does not love Christmas cookies does not have to be missing at our tables in this beautiful time.

Mom's best recipe

Gingerbread Christmas Cookie Trees

Bake Time: 8 to 10 minutes

Total Time: 2 hours

Servings: 2 dozen, 4 to 5 cookies per tree (depending on size)

Ingredients:

Gingerbread Cookies

3 cups all-purpose flour

¼ tsp baking soda

¼ tsp salt

2 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp ginger

¼ tsp nutmeg

¼ tsp cloves

6 Tbsp unsalted butter, at room temperature

½ cup brown sugar

1/3 cup light corn syrup

1/4 cup molasses

1 to 2 Tbsp water

Royal Icing

2 cups confectioners’ sugar

1 ½ Tbsp meringue powder

3 Tbsp water, plus more to thin

1/2 Tbsp light corn syrup

¼ tsp vanilla extract or lemon juice (optional)

Directions:

Gingerbread Cookies

1. In a large mixing bowl, whisk the flour, baking soda, salt and all of the spices together. Set aside.

2. In the bowl of a stand-mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix the butter and brown sugar until smooth, about 2 minutes. Add the corn syrup and molasses and mix until combined.

3. With the mixer on low, add the dry ingredients in two additions. Mix until combined. If the dough seems dry, add in the water and mix until the dough comes together to form a ball.

4. Gather the dough and form into a disk. Wrap the disk in plastic and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or overnight.

5. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350°F. Remove the dough from the refrigerator and let sit at room temperature until it is soft enough to roll out (5 to 10 minutes). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or non-stick baking mats. Set aside.

Listen to Christmas songs. You might be sick of the repetitive music by the time Christmas day arrives but you have to get into the holiday spirit! You can turn on a playlist from your phone, laptop, T.V, speaker, etc..

Mi burrito sabanero- Elvis Crespo Navidad sin ti- Marco Antonio Solis Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town- Andrea Bocelli Cino Pa' las 12- Néstor Zavarce El Año Viejo- Tony Camargo Aires De Navidad- Willie Colon Navidad- Guayacán Orquesta All I want for Christmas is you- Mariah Carey Feliz Navidad - Jose Feliciano Santa's coming for us - sia It's the most wonderful time of the year-Andy Williams Santa Tell Me - Ariana Grande

Say thanks. Thank your loved ones for more than your gifts. Thank them for how much they have done for you during the year. Thank them for being part of your life. But the most important thing to thank God because he allowed you and your family one more year because maybe it was not a good year or maybe yes but he is giving you one more year to achieve what you did not achieve last year as being: Better person, love your neighbor, do not do things that are bad and seem good, make good decisions, have good grades, change remove those things that keep you from the one that does not let you have that relationship with. That is 2020 all your wishes are fulfilled.

P.D: REMEMBER TO LEAVE COOKIES AND COCA-COLA TO SANTA!

#sunsen21

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thecookiecouture · 4 years

Video

youtube

La receta mas facil para preparar royal icing en 2020

#receta de royal icing #royal icing recipe in soanish #Spanish cookie decorating videos #royal icing #thecookiecouture #cookie decorating Spanish cookie #cookie decorating #decorated cookies 2020 #best decorated cookies recipes

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angryarbitershark-blog · 5 years

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I just returned from the most amazing trip to Pakistan, where I met many absolutely wonderful people. My uniqueness was embraced – I wasn’t treated differently because of my brown skin or my short grey hair – I was WELCOMED!

I spent 15 days in Pakistan (specifically, Lahore and Faisalabad), and had an absolutely wonderful time and will hold this experience and the people I met (now extended family) close to my heart for the remainder of my life.

I can’t speak on politics and the general climate of Pakistan as a whole. However, I can share with everyone this reaches my first-hand experience in Pakistan.

Never have I experienced such genuine warmth from complete strangers. I was welcomed into homes with open arms and yes, there was some curiosity as to how I felt about the country. My response was always it’s amazing or wonderful. My vocabulary is limited as there isn’t a single word that can express how I felt. What I saw of Pakistan was amazing, even the traffic though chaotic was somehow organized chaos.

There’s so much to see, eat and experience that it’s sensory overload. I have a 2 year visa and we’re already making plans for our return visit in 2020. That in itself is a testament to the wonderful time I had.

Speaking of sensory overload, creating a comprehensive blog of this experience is impossible. As a result, I’ve sectioned areas off to create mini-stories of my experiences to cutback on what appears to be rambling…

Additionally, I’m finding it difficult to share this experience in such a way that the nuances of the morning walks through the orchard, the early morning (3:00a) drives for chai or kababs, the visit to a village and let’s not forget the over-the-top wedding are shared in such a way that you (the reader) are also in awe.

All of these things coupled with the hospitality and love felt from everyone met doesn’t seem to translate well. However, I’ll do my best.

Let’s start from the beginning…

When my friend of over 17+ years asked if I’d like to go with her to a wedding in Pakistan – I immediately thought “YES”, however, this was a discussion with hubby before giving a definitive answer.

Of course he agreed that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he encouraged me to go for it!

Overview…

How many times does a person have the opportunity to attend a lavish Pakistani wedding IN Pakistan? Trusting my friend to make all the plans and ultimately dress me like dress-up barbie – that’s another story… I was off on what so far has been the best experience of my lifetime.

I didn’t just visit Pakistan, I was immersed into the culture as the host families have ultimately become my extended family. I didn’t sit back idly as a guest at the wedding events, I actually took part in some of the ceremonies.

I have over 900 pictures that truly tell the story. I feel that through these pics, I was able to capture an essence of Pakistan that is never seen nor considered to an outsider. As a result, I have created collages and written captions to aide you in taking part in this experience.

To say I had a wonderful time and met some wonderful people is an understatement. I know I’ve said this repeatedly… “Words can not begin to capture the true essence of my experience.”

We departed Dulles International Airport (IAD) December 13, 2018 @10:40p

December 15 – Day 1: Arrived in Lahore, Pakistan – freshened up, then took the local commuter bus (Daewoo Express) to Faisalabad, Pakistan (2-hr bus ride cost: approx. $8/per person).

First Impressions –

With any third world country the pollution is the first thing you notice. Then you see the poverty and what appears to be chaos. We arrived during the morning RUSH. The traffic in Lahore is 10x worst than NY and Atlanta combined. However, with all the madness, there’s a rhythm to the traffic. As mentioned earlier, I called it organized chaos.

Faisalabad here we come…

On the Daewoo Bus from Lahore to Faisalabad – this is a 2-hr trip and costs approx. $8 per person

While in Faisalabad, we were fortunate enough to stay with my friends’ family. Their home sits next to the family farm/orchard. This time of the year fresh guava, oranges, and lemons were plentiful.

There was always an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables – I’m sure walking through groves of fruit trees isn’t something pictured when you think of Pakistan? However, each morning the host would take his morning walk (we were fortunate enough to take a stroll with him one morning) and return with bags of fresh picked oranges and guava…

Strolling through the Orchards

This simple walk brought about a sense of inner peace.

Quiet Morning…

Sorting fresh cilantro

Fresh Roti anyone?

Delish!!!!

Faisalabad Family

Faisalabad – Captured moments…

Foodies! Pakistanis are the ultimate foodies…

EVERYTHING is fresh and delicious. A foodies paradise.

I tried and enjoyed everything. Well, there is one exception – pickled mango. My friend says that this is an acquired taste. Doubt that I’ll ever acquire the taste – lol…

However, CHAI on the other hand – I don’t think that there is a standard recipe. Each cup I tasted was slightly different. One pink chai would taste different from another pink chai. The common denominator – they were ALL delicious.

Did someone say “CHAI”?

Pink Chai, regular Chai, the Best Chai… YES!!! Life revolves around a delicious cup of CHAI

Seriously, life does revolve around CHAI…

Picture taken around 3:00 am. Yes, we were out for a delicious cup of pink chai. No, there aren’t any women around that time of morning. OK, I was out with the guys

Yes, we’re sitting in the cold waiting for CHAI

…and we had fun waiting

Yes, you can get a message while waiting for your chai

Rusk! Did I mention, it’s delicious w/Chai

A quick Lahore breakfast would include a cup of chai and 3-4 ok more like 5-6 slices of rusk

Teachable Moments…

I learned that orange slices dipped in salt and pepper is actually very good.

Can you catch an Uber in Pakistan? YES!!!!

Pakistan has approx. 10% christian population. The schools are closed for Christmas to respect this 10% of their population

The government pays for ALL education. Yes, they’ll even pay for a PhD…

Drive your car up to the gate, pop your hood and trunk for inspection. Exit your car, walk up to gate – open purse, show contents. Walk into building, pass purse through x-ray, you walk through metal detector. Finally, welcome to Emporium Mall, Lahore, Pakistan.

Emporium Mall: The safest mall on the planet. Here’s a list of MY favorite stores:

Maria-B

Sana Safina

Cross Stitch

Hyperstar

Shopping!

Disclosure: I absolutely HATE shopping and trying on clothing. However, thanks to my friends and their patience I muddled through and purchased the most beautiful outfits for the wedding events – the embroidery and beadwork on the clothing is phenomenal. Added bonus, the pricing is great. Next time, I’ll focus on more everyday pieces.

Confession: Yes, I shopped til I dropped. The bazaars have LOTs of deals, however, you truly need someone that speaks the language and knows how to negotiate to get the best deals. I had a grand time selecting shawls.

Decisions, decisions…

I’ll take them ALL

Don’t Judge…

Yes, I purchased most of the shawls in front of him

Aren’t they beautiful?

Hospitality…

In addition to the heartfelt hospitality, I received dresses, necklaces and even a bouquet of flowers from the village we visited – I’m not much for showing my emotions, however, I’ve never cried so much in my life. Happy tears for the kindness that was shown me was astonishing.

Pakistanis bring a whole new meaning to our (US) definition of southern hospitality. EVERY home (no matter how meager or grand) will offer you something to eat and drink.

Even when shopping at the bazaars, the shop keepers will offer you meals. We had delicious samosa’s and mango juice when purchasing our custom gowns, we had mango ice cream while picking out shawls. Basically, you can sit and review (okay, haggle) prices and eat an entire meal during the process. Can we say customer service.

Here are some pics from my visit to the village.

The day was spent eating and walking through the village and surrounding fields. THIS was a truly amazing experience. Enjoy the experience with me.

Welcome to the Village…

I was presented with a beautiful bouquet of flowers

By the way, I’m wearing a dress gifted to me by our host family in Faisalabad.

It’s all about family and food. You can’t ask for more.

Strolling thru Sugar cane

Eating sugar cane and oranges, while strolling through sugar cane fields – PRICELESS

Picking oranges – fresh from the tree – Delish…

A field of mustard seeds…

Just chillin’

These ladies had enough of us walking them through the fields.

The lady next to me is the oldest person in the village.

Village traffic

Okay… the original purpose of our trip: The Wedding…

Yes, I attended ALL of the events below. Additionally, I participated in some of the events too. The wedding was spectacular! It was like attending a royal wedding with absolutely nothing spared.

Listed as follows are the events I attended with pictures from the events.

However, please note – the definition of each event was obtained from this link https://www.desiblitz.com/content/the-pakistani-wedding-ceremony

December 19, 2018 – Dholki

Singing, dancing, and just usual gupshup are part of dholki sessions. The dhol, a large skinned drum, is played along with a metal spoon. Ladies of the family gather around in a circle around the dhol and sing traditional Bollywood and Mehndi songs about the bride and groom.

Our Lahore family. Having Chai after the Dholki

Friday, December 21, 2018 – Nikkah

The most important part of the whole ceremony is the Nikkah. Here the exchanging of the vows and the acceptance of marriage by both the bride and groom takes place. The nikkah is the most sacred matrimonial tie between a man and a woman. It forms an everlasting relationship between two people on the basis of two words, “I do”, said thrice by each of them.

The couple also sign the marriage contract or Nikkah-naama which contains all the terms and conditions agreed by both sides which they have to adhere too. Usually the fathers of both the bride and groom will stand as witnesses. Immediately following this, the groom’s side hand out wedding favours, or bidh, to all the guests.

I actually helped fill over 200 goodie bags for this event

Saturday, December 22, 2018 Mehndi

usually the most anticipated events, because they are supposed to be the most fun-filled events of the entire wedding. Usually it depends upon the preferences of people, but mehndis are mostly are filled with dance numbers. Youngsters prepare dances for mehndis which are usually presented to the couple. Often times couples will dance on their mehndi’s too. Elders will put mehndi and oil on leaves in the bride and groom’s hands, and feed them mithai. The traditional colour for mehndi is yellow. The bride is supposed to wear yellow clothes, or have a touch of yellow in her outfit. Along with that her hands are covered with different designs of henna. Some brides also prefer their arms and feet to be covered with beautiful henna designs.

December 24, 2018 – Baraat

The Baraat comes next, which involves the ‘departing ceremony’ for the bride following the arrival of the groom in a procession to take her away. This event is held and organized by the bride’s family.

The most important part of the baraat is the Rukhsati. It can rather be a sad moment for the family of the bride, and the bride herself. The food on baraat is usually lavish and rich. Pakistani food items usually include pulao, biryani, chicken curry, kebabs etc. Kheers and halwas are usually part of desserts.

Baraats can be rather stressful occasions for the bride and her family. This is because it is a kind of goodbye between them. Also stress gets built up from all past preparations and events, which adds to it. Slow music is usually played on baraats. More focus is made on the décor and presentation of the event. Such is done because a lot of pictures are to be taken on Baraat day.

All in all, baraats are fun events with a little touch of teary and emotional moments. The most painful moment is when the father of the bride sends off his daughter to a completely new home and environment.

Makeup aka setup- lol

Horrible make-up day. Lesson learned – take your foundation to the salon.

Loved my outfit and the company I kept

We look beautiful despite my makeup

December 25, 2018 – Walima

The last main event is the Walima. This event is a grand dinner and reception hosted by the groom. This event is usually all about putting an end to the long series of wedding events, and to say thanks to guests and family. The dress and make-up of this event for the bride is usually chosen by the groom’s side. The food on the walima is almost the same as the baraat. The focus on this event is again on picture taking and just light gupshup.

When the walima is over, the wedding officially comes to an end. After this, the series of dinners and lunches start for the fresh couple. Makhlawa is one of them, where all family members and friends invite the newlywed couple to different dinners, lunches and brunches.

All of these events combined are what make the Pakistani wedding ceremony unique. The purpose of them is to make the bride and groom feel special, and to celebrate their future marriage wholeheartedly.

Love these two

Thanks so much for opening your home to me.

Our hosts while in Lahore.

What have I done since my return? Talk about my trip.

Coming soon…

I’m currently planning an evening with friends to share foods, pics, stories… of this experience. I will post pics soon.

Pakistan: Viewed thru the eyes of a Mature Black American Female I just returned from the most amazing trip to Pakistan, where I met many absolutely wonderful people.

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