#personally i cannot do flavoured crisps.

[gils-grillins]

Sacramento Waterboy Review

WHAT WE ATE:

Drinks:

A glass of some kind of Pinot Noir

a "Tequila Honeybee" (??)

a "Hemmingway's Daiquiri" (??)

I'm not 100% certain on the names because I cannot find the cocktail menu we had online.

First course:

Bruschetta: Toasted Focaccia, Burrata, Roasted Local Stone Fruit (We Had Peaches and Cherries), Watercress, Basil, Balsamico

Cheese Plate: Selection of Four Cheeses with Toasted Bread, Crostini & Olives

Seasonal Vegetables (Heirloom tomato)

Main course:

Sonoma Liberty Duck Breast “Panzanella”: Toasted Focaccia, Local Cherries & Grilled Peaches, Arugula, Glazed Spring Onions, Balsamico

Mixed Grill of Lamb Chop, Quail & Bacon: Tomato-Eggplant-Zucchini Gratin, Crispy Fresh Corn Polenta, Rosemary-Shallot Jus

Dessert:

Summer Fruit (Strawberry) Crostata with Housemade Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

Affogato: Warm Pachamama Espresso Served Over Housemade Vanilla Ice Cream

I had the Duck and the Affogato, so I can not give a proper review of the "Mixed Grill" or the Crostata, though I did have a nibble here and there.

THE COCKTAILS

We were seated outside on the patio and although it was the early evening and still hot, it was quite nice because they had misters (??) spraying mist essentially directly on us, at least until some troublesome trout WASP women came in during the main course and had it turned off. We started off with the cocktails. Let me be frank, and do not let this tarnish your view of the establishment as a whole: they were mid. Despite, nay, because of the many ingredients that went into each one, they were extremely one-note and surprisingly acidic. The creator of these drinks clearly believed in cocktails being boozy, and boozy they were, but they were so at the cost of taste; my Honeybee did not taste of honey at all, but luckily I am a fan of raw tequila, so I wasn't too mad. My heartburn, however...

FIRST COURSE

Soon (the service here was very timely and friendly, a small but crucial sticking point when it comes to Finer Dining) we were served the First Course. We had ordered the bruschetta because the last time we had it, at the same seemingly ridiculous price point, it was Life Changing. Who knew that bread, tomatoes, and balsamic could be so damn good?

To my horror, the bruschetta had no tomatoes whatsoever. It was all peach hunks and cherry halves, sat atop a healthy serving of burrata (a good sign) along with some kind of herbs, many of which were entire leaves (I Do Not Like this, I wish restaurants and spring rolls would give up Entire Leaf as the means by which to give an herbaceaus flavour to the dish, it is too firm and fibrous compared to everything else in any given dish and therefore I am still stuck chewing it when all else has already been masticated and swallowed. It's disgusting. Stop.). The crostini was soaked with oil (butter?) and was delightfully crisp and greasy.

I'm on team Fruity Bruschetta now. It works. It's great. The sweetness and acidity of the fruit contrasts with the salty creaminess of the burrata, and then the crisp oiliness of the crostini brings it all together by giving you that delightful and drawn out crunch.

I'd be damned if I could remember exactly what the cheeses were supposed to be on the Cheese Platter, but they were some kind of Brie, some kind of French cheese that was aged in ashes (to be referred to as Ash Cheese), a Blue cheese that, we were told, had been aged in fig leaves soaked in whiskey, and a semi-firm that tasted very mild.

My personal favorites, in order from best to worst, were Brie, Ash Cheese, Semi-Firm, and the Blue. I have nothing to say about the semi-firm nor the blue, they were very generic for their kind and frankly, I have never been a fan of Blue Cheese or stinkies as a whole.

The brie was also fairly generic for a brie, but it was somehow extra Fine in its taste, perhaps because it was served at room temperature, as brie is supposed to be served, and not directly out of the fridge, as I tend to consume it.

The ash cheese had a strong, cheesey flavor, somewhat akin to a gouda, and was very appallingly gummy? It stuck to the roof of my mouth like it had decided it wanted to be peanutbutter, and a single bite of it took me several minutes to really swallow down. Tasted good though.

The platter itself did not have enough bread, so we resorted to eating cheese, particularly the non-offensive semi-firm, on the heirlooms. This was a delightful combo; always feel free to get creative with your meals, do not feel constrained by a chef's intents. Sometimes they don't know the correct cheese-to-crostini ratio. The almonds and olives in the centre were a nice touch, and the apricot (?) jam helped the blue cheese become something genuinely delicious rather than a painful, smelly chore. Strong cheeses are best when contrasted with something else. They did not give me enough of the jam, which is a shame.

The heirlooms were essentially a caprese salad without the mozzarella, and would've been only improved by the simple chopping of the herbs.

MAIN COURSE

I came out of the first course feeling extremely enthusiastic about the main course. After all, if all of the appetizers were stunning and lovely, how could the main course not be? But lord, have mercy...

My dinner was simple. Seared duck breast, sliced thinly and sat atop a simple arugula salad, accented with toasted focattia, slices of grilled peach, and cherry halves (a requiem of the bruschetta; these fruits are what's in season). Wonderful, except for one fatal flaw; the duck was rare. The skin was crisp, yes, and I know duck is a red meat, but...it was rare enough to be quacking. I am not bothered by this psychologically, but texture-wise...eugh. Chewy, gross, and because the inside is essentially uncooked, cold. Additionally, only the skin was seasoned, and in a very limited fashion, at that, so what would happen with each bite was much like the problem with using herb leaves as seasoning; I'd finish and swallow all the good stuff first (skin), then be left with the worst part last. This is where the wine comes in; I know that red wine and red meat are best buddies (if you don't know why, why are you even reading this?), so in a moment of brilliance I simply requested that the waiter give me whatever red wine suits the duck best. He gave me Pinot Noir. This, along with cutting the duck extra small and seasoning it further, saved the meal more or less, though I will not be ordering it again.

My dining partner's meal, the grill mix, was done much better in every conceivable way. I'm really, truly confounded as to how they can cook a lamb rib right but not duck breast. I tried every aspect of the meal except for the bacon, and the only complaint I had was that they oversalted the quail.

DESSERT

I ordered the affogato because none of the other desserts appealed to me (I was under the impression they'd have key lime pie, they did not) and the caffeine sounded nice. If you've never had this, simply make some espresso and pour it over a scoop of vanilla (ideally French vanilla) ice cream or gelato while it's still hot. Eventually, the whole thing melts into a tasty slurry of coffee and vanilla. You can also do what my mother used to do, and put a scoop of the same into a cup of regular coffee.

My only complaint is that the coffee was too sour; I really don't like sour coffee.

CONCLUSION

In my experience, a lot of restaurants do an amazing job with appetizers, but fumble when it comes to the main course. Black Angus and Lazy Dog both come to mind. I am not sure why this happens, but I will eventually return to Waterboy and give them another chance. After all, the apps were mind-blowing, and the only major issue (unrelated to my personal preferences) was the duck, which may very well have been an issue due to my muscle weakness making it difficult for me to chew. I often struggle with meats others don't consider to be tough, and this may have been the case. Also, their scallop and pork belly platter is calling my name.

#gil goes out to eat #food blog #restaurant review #sacramento #sacramento waterboy

[movedto-tsotc]

hm. what specific food(s) really set you off and make you uncomfortable but you can't explain why to ppl so they don't take you seriously.

#524 #food #rb bait #personally i cannot do flavoured crisps. #the smell and the texture and the concept horrify me #that and sweet chili sauce #shoutout to me breaking down bc i tasted a little on my finger once

[stars-a-n-d-scars]

Hey so I wrote some asks. Send me numbers!!! Or Reblog if you want people to ask you. Or both🤷🏼‍♀️ 💜

Tumblr Asks:

1. How long have you been on Tumblr?

2. Who was your first Tumblr friend?

3. Who is your favourite mutual(s)?

4. Who is your favourite visual artist on here?

5. Favourite shitpost blog?

6. Has this community impacted your life in a positive or negative way?

7. What is one lesson you have learnt from Tumblr that you will take with you for the rest of your life?

8. What is a post of yours that you wish got more notes?

9. Do you prefer anons or ordinary asks?

10. What do you wish people would say more of to you?

Writing Asks:

11. How long have you been writing fanfics or other personal writing for?

12. What is the piece that you are most proud of?

13. What is a writing tip that you have learnt from Tumblr?

14. What advice do you have for anyone trying to start writing?

15. Where do you write from? (Emotionally)

16. What is your favourite trope to write?

17. Do you write original stories (not fanfics)? If not, would you ever consider it?

18. What is your favourite ship to write?

19. Who is your favourite character to write?

20. What is something you wish you were better at writing about?

Love Asks (not necessarily romantic or sexual love because we value aroaces in this house):

21. Sexuality?

22. Name five people you love.

23. Name five people who love you.

24. Do you ever want to get married? This could be romantically, platonically or just two great friends who are doing it for the tax benefits.

25. Would you like to have children? Again, this is not specific to romantic relationships.

26. What is the most important thing for you in any relationship? I cannot stress enough that I mean ANY type of relationship, romantic, platonic, familial, etc.

27. What is an animal that you love?

28. What is one thing that you love about yourself?

29. What is another thing you love about yourself?

30. When you hear a romantic song come on the radio, who do you think of?

Culture asks:

31. Where do you live?

32. What country are you originally from?

33. What languages do you speak?

34. What is your favourite dish? It can a cultural one or not.

35. What was your favourite childhood tv show?

36. What is something about your culture that you love?

37. What is something about your culture that you don’t love?

38. Would you change?

39. What is a religion that interests you?

40. Do you think there is an afterlife?

Food asks:

41. Favourite dessert?

42. Favourite cuisine?

43. Favourite think to cook?

44. Sweet, salty, sour or umami?

45. Best crisp flavour?

46. Favourite fruit?

47. Weirdest food combination you’ve ever heard?

48. A food that everyone else likes that you hate?

49. A food that everyone else hates but you like?

50. Favourite vegetable?

Reading asks:

51. Favourite book?

52. Least favourite book?

53. Meet-cute or meet-ugly?

54. Coffee Shop or Flower Shop AU?

55. Favourite get-together trope?

56. Least favourite get-together trope?

57. What book do you recommend everyone should read?

58. What is a book that you don’t get the hype about?

59. What is an author that you hate?

60. A character you love (I know how hard it is to choose the favourite so just one that you like).

Travel asks:

61. Where would you love to visit?

62. Where would you love to live?

63. Plane or boat?

64. Do you prefer cruises, or just normal trips?

65. Favourite country you have visited?

66. Opinions on road trips?

67. Favourite road trip album/song?

68. Are you a heavy or a light packer?

69. What is one thing that you always forget?

70. Camping or hotels?

Media asks:

71. Song rec?

72. Movie rec?

73. Tv show rec?

74. Artist/singer rec?

75. An actor that you love

76. An actor that you hate

77. A strong opinion about anyone in Hollywood (can be positive or negative).

78. An actor whose death was a tragedy?

79. What do you think about WAP?

80. Who is the best Spider-Man?

2020 asks:

81. Favourite thing about quarantine?

82. Least favourite thing about quarantine?

83. Did you have to work/school from home?

84. A project that quarantine helped you complete

85. A project that quarantine helped you eat started

86. A project that you meant to do in quarantine but didn’t

87. Have you washed your hands today?

88. have you washed your hands today?

89. Do you have a cool mask? If so, what is cool about it?

90. What are you most excited to do when COVID ends?

Self-love asks:

91. Something you are proud of about yourself?

92. Something you love about your appearance?

93. One thing you love about your personality?

94. Something good you did for someone this week?

95. Tag three people that you love

96. Are you beautiful? Even if you think you’re not say yes because you are.

97. What is a random talent that you have that is useless, but you’re still proud of?

98. Have you had water today? If no, then please go and drink some now.

99. I dare you to look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are amazing.

100.

❤️you are amazing you are loved!!!❤️

#asks #not hp

[ninbayphua-moyan]

An Instant’s Beauty: A Moment’s Eternity

I cannot sleep deep in the night; I rise and sit to play my lute. Thin curtains mirror the moon bright; Clear breezes tug my lapels mute. A lonely swan shrieks over the plain; Hovering birds cry in north wood. What do I see pacing in vain? My heart is grieved in solitude. [1] 

Warm morning sunlight streamed in through the lightwell, painting the dimly lit room in a dreamy pastel gold, quite like that of a faded photograph. The balmy Penang air was steeped in the fresh, earthy petrichor of a recent shower, blanketed with a sense of Saturday languidness. A gentle breeze, pleasantly cool against my skin fleeted through the wide-open windows, carrying with it the alluringly sweet scent of frangipanis.

          I flipped the century-old poetry book, its yellowed leaves a beautiful contrast against the teal-blue covers. White silk cords stitched together the pages in a butterfly binding whilst faded black ink encased in vermillion frames marked each leaf, punctuated only occasionally by an ink wash painting of landscapes or plants and animals. Reflexion. I placed the book back down on the table and picked up the brush. Dipping the tip in freshly grounded black ink, I started copying the text.

          I remember a sense of meditative calm seeping into the room against the backdrop of gently rustling palm leaves and running water. The way my hands traced the familiar characters with controlled ease and precision. The movements of the brush long since deeply ingrained into muscle memory from years of practice. Stroke after flowing stroke danced gracefully across the beige xuan paper, each carefully crafted character a painting of woven words. It strikes me now, as I pen my memory onto paper in Bute Park, how similar writing is to calligraphy. Even though it bears a certain form, each writer brings with them their own flair as they string together the words and weave them into a tapestry of thoughts.

          A ripple in the tranquil air.

          The soft fluttering of paper-thin wings. A shimmer of blue at the corner of my eye.

          Propping my brush against the holder, I looked up to see a beautiful blue butterfly flitting in through the window bars. It hovered by the inkstone momentarily before finally coming to a rest on the wooden brush rack next to it, the erratic beating of its wings slowing to a stop. Brilliant hues of cobalt and azure scales glistened as it sat there peacefully basking in the warm tropical sun. Watching the butterfly, I couldn’t help but wonder if the old folklore A-Poh[2] told me was true – that butterflies were the souls of deceased ancestors visiting the living. Wouldn’t that be nice if it was real. Then I’d be able to tell A-Gong[3] all about getting into university; about how part of me was glad that I got accepted but also about how another part of me didn’t want to go since I’d be leaving home for three years straight. What if everything changed whilst I was away? The places I’ve known since childhood…the familiar faces I’ve grown up with…If only the butterfly really was A-Gong. He’d be able to give me some advice.

          A tantalising aroma of freshly steamed glutinous rice dumplings wafted through the air, successfully drawing me out of my musings just as the clock struck noon.

          “Jia-bui-lo!” [4]

          Scurrying feet on creaking floorboards could be heard all over the house as my siblings and parents made a beeline for the dining hall. I looked away from the butterfly and smiled at A-Poh who was standing in the kitchen doorway. She beckoned me over with a toothless grin, her eyes crinkling into two half-moons as she motioned at the large bowl full of steaming glutinous rice dumplings in her hand. Getting up from the Luohan bed[5] where I sat cross-legged, I joined them at the dining table where Di-Di[6] and Mei-Mei[7] were already sat with their chopsticks at the ready, excited grins plastered across their hungry, eager faces.

          I take a seat next to A-Poh, and, picking up my chopsticks, took a bite out of the dumpling in my bowl, its familiar flavours instantly crashing over my taste buds like waves washing up against its shores. A groan escaped my lips as I relished each mouth-watering bite. The savoury note of succulent pork belly marinated in soy sauce and five spice; umami-rich dried shitake mushrooms with its juicy and chewy quality; firm-textured salted duck egg yolk that gives the dumpling a briny aroma whilst its bright orange-red hue creates a pleasant splash of colour against its otherwise brown and black counterparts; the refreshing sweetness of the water chestnuts, a crunchy nuttiness amidst the softness; soft, sticky golden brown glutinous rice encompassing it all, delectably infused with the subtle fragrance of its bamboo leaf wrappings and rich flavours of its fillings from the hours of steaming…ah…these tenderly wrapped packages of love though plain in appearance were worth more to me than gold.

          I was still half way through my first dumpling when another newly unwrapped one plopped into my bowl. Quickly swallowing my food, I tried protesting only to be shushed with another mouthful of rice being forced into my open mouth and a fond pat on the cheek. I shook my head in resignation whilst my siblings sent me cheeky looks before sneakily scooting closer to our parents. There was no stopping A-Poh now that she was on the rampage and those little troublemakers were smart enough to know to stay out of arms reach of her stuffing chopsticks. The rascals. Di-Di even has the audacity to stick his tongue out at me which was obviously returned with an eye roll.

          Little did I know then that these habitual banter, familiar aromas, and accustomed faces would be what I would miss most after leaving. Everything was as it should be; and everyone was where they belonged. In that instance, surrounded by dust particles glimmering in the golden tropical sunlight, it was as if a spell had been cast that would make today go on eternally. For a moment, I let myself believe in the enchantment; that tomorrow will never come and the flight ticket to London was nothing but a forgotten fantasy…

          Bzzz.

          Bzz. Bzzzzzz.

          Bzzz.

          I instinctively reach for my phone to turn off the alarm that pierces the heavy veils of sleep. However, when I open my eyes, I’m met with an unfamiliar white ceiling instead of the usual worn wooden beams. For a moment, I lie there, disorientated before realization sinks in. Cardiff. I am in my flat in Cardiff and the weight I felt on my stomach wasn’t Hua-Hua[8] but rather, my laptop which was still perched on its spot from yesterday’s all-nighter. I must’ve dozed off at some point.

          Slowly sitting up, I gaze around the silent room. Its bleak white walls; books and worksheets sprawled messily across the covers; steely early morning sunlight filtering through the narrow window into the dingy room; folders organized in a nice pile on the desk...My wandering gaze comes to a grinding stop when it lands on the calendar next to the neat stack of folders.

          February 7th.

          I sigh. Looks like I’ll be celebrating both my birthday and Chinese New Year alone this year…

          The frigid February air is still bitterly cold despite being swaddled from head to toe in layers upon layers of coats and scarves. Miserably, I trudge onwards along the banks of the River Taff. Razor sharp winds slice at my cheeks leaving behind searing scars. As the last remaining trickle of warmth leave my body, my mind shuts down and I plod along the cobblestone streets mechanically, limbs and face numb from the biting cold.

          A lukewarm breeze flutters by, stirring my slumbering senses. Bit by bit, warmth seeps back into my frozen limbs and my foggy mind clears as if waking up from a trance. Glancing around, I spot the words Marchnad Caerdydd [9] and realise I’ve arrived at the market. I shake off the remaining frost induced spell and venture into the quiet maze of stalls, trolley in hand.

          The smell of freshly baked bread and pastries wafts through the crisp air, tinged with a breath of floral sweetness. A range of raw meat laid out in clear glass cases bathed in neon pink lights line the murky grey brick walls. Whiffs of coffee beans tickle my nose whenever a dull-eyed person shuffles soullessly pass me in the near vacant market. Stall owners sit spiritlessly at their stalls staring lazily into space. It was almost like walking into a ghost town.

          A splash of colour.

          Turning around, I see a stall filled to the brim with a rainbow array of fruits and vegetables. A refreshing sight in the seemingly deserted marketplace. The sudden craving for something sweet results in me buying a bag of strawberries before wandering on.

          As I nibble away happily on the strawberries browsing through the stalls up in the gallery, I was suddenly struck by a sense of déjà vu. Bit by bit, the scene before me starts to change. The glaring daylight fades away into the tranquil darkness of night and the dusty marketplace roof is now a sky full of twinkling stars. A magnificent full moon shines softly against the vast velvety void, casting a gentle glow on everything below. Towering, lush palm trees replace murky grey brick walls and the cobblestone floor is transformed into a well-travelled dirt road. A lively buzz fills the now soothingly warm tropical air as a familiar sight begins to emerge in the distance. For there, at the very end of the road, stood Penang’s bustling night market, glowing and glittering like a chest of magical gems in the blanket of darkness.

          Brightly lit stalls sheltered by rainbow umbrellas formed a colourful labyrinth, drawing people young and old towards those warm lights like moths to a flame. The sound of street vendors hollering out their wares permeated the air, mingling with the cheerful haggling. Weaving in and out of the throng, I hurried over to the food stalls section. Bellowing clouds of smoke imbued with the irresistible aroma of Asian street food rose into the night air and my mouth began to salivate.

          As memories melt into ink and reconstruct themselves as words on the page, I am suddenly reminded of Lauren Elkin’s essay on being a flaneur.[10] Wandering through the streets of a city, uncovering its secrets and crafting it into a tale for the shelves. Having read Virginia Woolf’s Street Hunting, it’s fascinating to see not only the difference between Penang and London but also her contrasting writing style.[11]

          A familiar smell wafted down the street. I snapped out of my trance and made a beeline towards a stall tucked away in the corner. An old couple stood amongst bamboo steamer baskets selling staple dim-sum[12] delicacies. Noticing my arrival, the old woman hurried up to me and enveloped me into a bone-shattering hug.

          “Nai-Nai![13] Can’t – breathe –”

          She lets go of me with a laugh, grabbed my hand and quickly led me inside. As she busied herself fawning over me, Ye-Ye[14] quietly filled up a bowl and placed it in front of me with a kindly smile. I looked into the bowl to find it full of crystal shrimp dumplings[15], my favourite dim-sum dish.

          I picked up a piece of dumpling with my chopsticks and take a tentative bite, my mouth immediately exploding with flavour. The saltiness of grounded shrimp marinated with soy sauce and sesame oil contrasting exquisitely against the unique juicy sweetness of fresh prawn; a thin yet sturdy glass-like wrapper encapsulates it all with delicate pleats, creating a tasteful balance between the plainness of the dough and the richness of its fillings. Ah…heaven in a bite-size bundle.

          Ye-Ye and Nai-Nai smiled fondly as they watched me wolf down the shrimp dumplings with the same unrestrained gusto I’ve had for the past nineteen years. We reminisced about the past, laughing at funny memories whilst savouring the simple dim-sum dishes, and I couldn’t help but noticed how time had flown. Just yesterday I was barely tall enough to reach their knees; today, I stood half a head taller.

          “How long?”

          “Three years.”

          Minutes pass, neither of us uttered a word. Then, Ye-Ye gently ruffled my hair, the same way he’s been doing since I was two, only this time, the smile on his face seemed tinged with a hint of melancholy.

          “Silly child.”

          My nose soured at the affectionate nickname and I quickly tilted my head back to stop tears from falling. The stars seemed strangely lonely that night.

          “Still such a cry-baby.”

          “Am not!”

          Hastily blinking away the tears, I got up and enveloped Nai-Nai in a tight hug.

          “Take care.”

          I nodded, not trusting my voice. After a few pats, we broke apart and I turned to head home.

          “We’ll save some shrimp dumplings for when you come home!”

          I dared not look back so I raised my hand and waved farewell instead. Until next time.

          Strolling down the five-foot way, I paused in front of a pair of ventilated timber doors. Mythical creatures of Chinese folklore embellished each panel. The dragon floating reverently amongst wispy clouds, each delicately carved scale shimmering with contained power. Opposite it, perched nobly on golden branches, was its gentler feathered counterpart – the phoenix, its wings spread wide, ready to take flight. Under the moonshine, it was as if those gilded bodies were suddenly brought to life. Their once dull sheen now aglow in brilliant shades of scarlet, orange and gold, almost as if they would burst into flames at any moment, just like in the myths of old, and be reborn from the ashes.

          As I gazed at the exquisite carvings, entranced, an old memory resurfaces. Same door, same carvings, but a very different time. I was a lot shorter for one, and I wasn’t alone. The large calloused hand that held mine was wrinkled and dry like the pages of an old book. Where a finger was supposed to be was stump, the only remains of a work accident in his youth.

          I tugged at the hand and A-Gong glanced down, a gentle smile on his weather-beaten face. Seeing the question in my doe-like eyes, he laughed. “These?” he asked as he lifted me up with one arm whilst running his other hand over the carvings which glittered under the setting sun. “These are spirit guardians sent by the Jade Emperor to watch over our household.”

          “Howshowld?”

          “Family,” he chuckled and tweaked my nose. I giggled, playfully reaching out my stubby fingers to grab his beard. Still laughing, he pushed open the heavy, half-a-century-old doors and we entered the house.

          Standing in the living room, the sounds of mirth slowly faded into silence and evening sunlight was replaced with the darkness of night. Without bothering to turn on the light, I walked over to the Luohan-bed and struck a match, lighting the wooden lantern. A pool of golden light was casted around the table where a flight ticket to London sat, my passport placed neatly beside it.

          I sighed.

          Sinking down into the cushions, I glanced at the clock. Five hours. Then it’s goodbye for a very, very long time. I gazed absentmindedly around the familiar room as my mind takes a trip down memory lane: mornings sprawled across the brightly coloured majolica tile floor trying to trace its intricate patterns; Evenings spent watching A-Poh wielding her embroidery needle with decades of practiced ease; A-Gong playing the erhu[16] on peaceful nights…ah yes, the erhu. Closing my eyes, I could almost hear it. The bamboo bow strung with horsetail hair traversing between two silk strings as A-Gong’s fingers dance deftly along its slender neck producing a vast array of tunes: one moment tender and sombre, the next sonorous and joyful.

          “Mmmreeoow?”

          I opened my eyes and found myself gazing into the forest-green orbs of a young calico sat patiently on my lap. Snuffing out the lantern, I laid down and wrapped my arms around Hua-Hua as she snuggled against my chest.

          An intoxicating sweetness tickled my nose.

          I glanced over at the potted plants to find the tan-huas[17] blossoming. Head propped against the pillow; I watched as the tightly rolled petals bloom in slow motion. Its fiery red tendrils unfurling elegantly to reveal a profusion of feathery white petals, much like a swan ruffling its wings, about to take flight. In the darkness of night, its snowy petals seemed to glow from within, as if made of moonbeams. With moonlight streaming in from the lightwell above, even the floating dust particles were transformed into shimmering stardust dancing in the quiet night air.

          Yet, as enchanting as it was, I couldn’t help but remember that it would all come to an end very soon. By dawn, before the sun’s first kiss, its lustrous petals would be shrivelled up and a withered carmine carcass would be all that remains of its snowy beauty from the night before; its lingering exotic fragrance a ghost of its twilight arrival. There’s an old saying A-Gong used to describe the tan-huas blooming: an instant of beauty but a moment of eternity. Even though beautiful things don’t last forever, they live on eternally, etched into our deepest memories. Just like the tan-huas, my time left on this quaint little island was coming to an end. By dawn tomorrow, I too would be gone; and though I’d be leaving this cozy old house I called home, I’d take with me its memories, just as the scent and beauty of the tan-hua lingers on forever in the memory of all who witnessed it.

          Listening to the rustling palm leaves and soothing gurgle of running water, tension oozed out of my body as my muscles relaxed. The tranquillity of night imbued with the intoxicating sweetness of tan-huas calmed my racing thoughts and my eyelids started to droop. Just before being lulled to sleep by Hua-Hua’s soft purring, I caught sight of a glimmer of azure amongst the radiant white blooms. The fluttering of delicate wings; quiet footsteps; something warm being tucked around me; and the familiar scent of incense from eleven years ago accompanied me as I drifted off to sleep.

NOTES:

[1] Ji Ruan, ‘Reflexions’ in 300 Gems of Classical Chinese Poetry, trans. by Yuanchong Xu (China: Peking University Press) pp. 88-89

[2] ‘A-Poh’ means ‘grandmother’ in Hainanese

[3] ‘A-Gong’ means ‘grandfather’ in Hainanese

[4] ‘Jia bui lo!’ means ‘time to eat’ in Hainanese (one of the Chinese dialects).

[5] ‘Luohan bed’ is a traditional Chinese furniture equivalent to the modern sofa-bed. It is made of wood, often containing a low wooden tea table set in the center.

[6] ‘Di-Di’ means ‘younger brother’ in Chinese 

[7] ‘Mei-Mei’ means ‘younger sister’ in Chinese 

[8] ‘Hua-Hua’ means ‘flower’ or ‘patterned’ in Mandarin which is a reference to the calico cat’s tri-coloured coat as well as the fact that calicos are called ‘Yin-Hua-Bu-Mao’. The naming is also a pun and an allusion the association it has with the memories her grandfather and his favourite flowers – the tan-huas.

[9] ‘Marchnad Caerdydd’ means ‘Cardiff Market’ in Welsh.

[10] Lauren Elkin, ‘A tribute to female flaneurs: the women who reclaimed our city streets’, in Flaneuse: Woman Walk the City, (London: Chatto & Windus, 2016)

[11] Virginia Woolf, 'Street Haunting', in Selected Essays (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 177 - 187

[12] ‘Dim-sum’ is a style of Chinese cuisine that’s prepared in small bite-sized portions served in small steamer baskets or on a small plate. It is also a metaphor in this story for a Chinese saying: 麻雀虽小，五脏俱全 meaning ‘small as it is, the sparrow has all the vital organs’. Just like dim-sum, the narrator’s happiness comes from a seemingly insignificant object such as a bowl of shrimp dumplings.

[13] ‘Nai-Nai’ means ‘paternal grandmother’ but can also be used as a general reference to or a friendlier and more affectionate way of addressing an old woman which is often used to show the closeness of the relationship.

[14] ‘Ye-Ye’ means ‘paternal grandfather but can also be used as a general reference to or a friendlier and more affectionate way of addressing an old man which is often used to show the closeness of the relationship.

[15] ‘Crystal shrimp dumplings’ also known as ‘Har-gao’ are a staple dim-sum dish made of prawn semi-translucent wraps kneaded from flour. In Chinese culture, dumplings are normally associated with togetherness and reunions since the wrapping of dumplings is a group activity that is usually done with family which helps emphasizes on the sense of belonging within the narrative.

[16] ‘Erhu’ is a traditional Chinese two-stringed fiddle.

[17] ‘Tan-hua’ also known as Epiphyllum Oxypetalum is a species of cactus found in South America and Southeast Asia that blooms rarely and only at night. In the Chinese culture’s language of flowers, the tan-hua means ‘an instant of beauty, a moment of eternity’, meaning beautiful things don’t last forever but they last forever in our memories.

Author's Notes:

Back with Part 3 of the short story slash prose pieces from uni series (this part was also written in second year lol) The story is back to the present, picking up a year after that rocky start in Part 1 and A-Yun is now in her second year of uni reminiscing about the time leading up to her departure for the UK. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading Part 3~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 

Since exams are over and graded and I've officially graduated, I can finally post my work online without having to worry about Turnitin picking it up as plagiarism because apparently you aren't allowed to plagiarise yourself according to university which is absolutely ridiculous but I'm not the one making the rules here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, please don't reupload my works without permission.

#ninbayphua 墨彦 #prose #short story #constructive critisms are always welcomed #please don't repost without permission

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Unfortunate Accident - Leo x Isabella

Synopsis: Leo brings Natalia to her first football game but a small accident causes Isabella to go crazy.

Tagging: @drakewalkerfantasy @itslaniquelove @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @texaskitten30 @rainbowsinthestorm @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @choicesficwriterscreations

This story will have a follow on for the 11th day Kinktober prompts ❤️

“Mama!! Please!!” a five year old Natalia clung onto Isabella’s leg tightly, pleading and crying, “Please can I go with papa?” There was one thing more in life that Leo loved more than Isabella and his daughters - it was his beloved Portavira FC. It had been two and a half years since they reached the Cordonian Royal Cup and as patron there was absolutely no way he was missing this but when Natalia found out where her father was headed off to, she screamed the house down wanting to go too. “Bella...” Leo shook his head trying not to laugh at the pocket sized Princess hanging off of her mother’s leg not letting her move, “Let her go... it’ll be fine...” Isabella narrowed her eyes towards Leo unimpressed that he was not helping, “She’s too young... she shouldn’t be at a football game...” Leo had begged Isabella for ages to let him bring the girls to a football match. It look him long enough to talk Isabella around to let them get involved in a local under six soccer team. He wanted to be that kind of dad out each Sunday watching on the sidelines. “Mama...” Leo pouted, sticking out his lower lip playfully as he begged, “pwease....???” Isabella raised her hands, her palms open as she sighed heavily, “Fine... fine...” her brow began to furrow annoyed at the prospect, “You make sure you watch her like a hawk!”

This was a gift; an actual gift from heaven that Isabella had given him. Leo had no prouder moment than having his daughter dressed head to toe in blue and silver to accompany him and Liam to the Portavira FC and Valtoria Crusaders Cordonian Royal Cup final. “Baby girl!” Leo blissfully chuckled as the five year old jumped up and down with excitement before running out, “I get my suitcase...” wheeling in her already packed little Disney Princess suitcase filled with toys. Isabella stood, her arms folded as she shook her head laughing, “Someone was definitely planning ahead... Lia...” the little one turned towards her mother, “Have you packed any clothes in that suitcase?” She became extremely bashful, twisting her foot back and forth as she shook her head giggling, “hehehehe... no mama...” Isabella reached out for her daughter’s hand, “Ven mi querida... vamonos...” bringing her to get ready for her trip. Leo was elated immediately reaching into his blazer jacket, “Liam... Hey! We’ll be hitting the tarmac soon... yeah, yeah Lia is coming with... This will be epic... amazing, see you soon brother!”

“Uncle Drake!! Uncle Drake!!” Natalia opened the door of Leo’s Range Rover, running past her father into the arms of the Texan scrunching up her face as he scratched her with his stubble, “Drakkkeeeee... noooo.... Papaaa!” She giggled as Leo began to laugh, “Looks like your number one fan has arrived Walker...” watching his daughter’s face light up as Drake tickled Natalia, “This little mouse... she’s nothing. Jackson on the other hand...” Drake rolled his eyes jutting his head to the left as Jackson was attacking a tree with a wooden sword. “Baby girl... you wanna go play with Jackson?” Natalia looked across to the left watching Jackson as her eyes widened, she giggled, “Please Papa?? Can I??” Leo kissed her cheek gently before squishing her cheeks together playfully between his thumb and index finger, “How can I say no to you beautiful... go have fun...” Drake tried to carefully lower the tiny Princess to the ground but she had no patience, pulling away as soon as she could to run off to play with her friend.

Liam finally finished his meeting with the Cordonian Attorney General. He slowly walked through the gardens towards his visitors with a great big smile, “Hello brother!!” and with his arms extended Liam knelt down onto the grass he welcomed his niece, “Hello my darling!!” Sweeping up the five year old into his arms, she squealed happily, “Uncle Liam!!!” as he threw her up into the air, catching her each time. “Are you looking forward to tomorrow sweetheart??” Her hazel green eyes glistened in the Cordonian sunshine as she put her arms around Liam’s neck before whispering to him cheekily, “Sí!” Liam looked around as he winked towards Jackson, “Should we all go get some ice cream?” Jackson dropped his wooden sword excitedly running across to Liam as he chuckled, “Drake, Leo... looks like we might need to go for a little road trip to the Marina... I don’t think the kitchen has any ice cream left...” Leo began to run his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, “Well you cannot make a promise like that and not follow through brother... what do you think Jackson?” ruffling the little boisterous boy’s walnut coloured hair. Jackson nodded happily as Leo picked him up, “We can take the my car, it has two booster seats already...”

Leo looked into the mirror chuckling to himself as Liam squished in between the booster seats, his designer Armani suit was covered in dripping apple flavoured ice cream. “Welcome to the occupational hazards of parenthood Liam...” Drake shouted towards the back as he and Leo howled whilst Liam awkwardly tried to use a wet wipe to clean his jacket and the kids fingers but alas, it had been short lived until they got back to the Cordonian Palace, they allowed Jackson and Natalia to play football in the gardens as the men drank their whiskey, “Honestly Liam... kids...” Leo grinned happily, “the kids were the best thing ever happen... take Sasha and Lia, in every way identical looks wise but personality... 100 percent, two completely different people...” Alessandra was a complete girly girl like her mother, loved to be dressed up; Natalia, not so much, she’s a little tomboy... she wants to play rough, she has no fear and loved sports alongside her father. It was funny how they were so similar but so different at the same time. “It’s hard for Lia and Sasha to play together as they’re so different, that’s why Lia loves coming to Cordonia to play with Jackson...” Leo looked over at them both tackling one another for the ball chuckling, “They’re on the same level...”

The next morning, Natalia was so excited as Leo and Liam escorted her through Portavira FC’s football clubhouse, prancing around head to toe in their baby blue and silver home kit. Her hair was dutch braided with matching ribbons and her bright, glowing smile warmed the hearts of all who she waved to. The crowds cooed how cute the Laurentian Princess looked, how well mannered she was, impressed she was conversing in both Greek and English where she could, heavily accented of course. The women in the gathered crowd swooned as both Rys brothers fawned over the little girl who idolised then both - fanning themselves as they felt their ovaries twinging at the sight. Leo and Liam stood by Natalia’s side at all times, both brothers wearing dark navy suits, brown shoes and crisp white tight shirts as the cameras took photos of them with the Portavira and Valtoria players. Leo placed his hands gently onto his daughter’s shoulders as she fidgeted, leaning down to her he whispered, “big smiles beautiful... two seconds and it’ll be all over...” Once the flash went off, the little Princess looked up at her father adoringly - the photographer getting the perfect shot of her, Lia’s hazel green eyes were glistened with love and awe. “Your Majesties...” the photographer brought his camera over to show them for their approval. Leo beamed proudly as he saw the picture of his daughter captured at that very moment looking up at him, “Yes... of course... Can I ask that this is sent to my office after it’s published? We will of course reimburse you for the rights...” handing the photographer a business card. “My secretary Céline will be awaiting your call... thank you...”

Leo didn’t care what he had to do to make his daughter happy, to him this was a big a day to her as it was for him. This was her first real experience of large crowds where she could blend in, she didn’t need to be the centre of attention. “King Leo... Your Majesty...” the manager of Portavira FC and their captain Michael Castellanos ran after Leo and Liam, “As our club patron, would it be possible to ask if the Princess would like to be a mascot for us today when we are on the field?” Leo chuckled as he looked down at his darling daughter before addressing the two men in his presence, “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Portavira’s star player kneeled in front of Natalia, smiling towards her, “Princess... would you like to help me win that big trophy over there?” Natalia stared as she followed the line of his finger to the glistening trophy in the case, “It would be a big help to have you out there as a lucky charm!” Natalia bashfully moved partially behind her father’s leg nodding her head against his arm quietly agreeing as she said, “Ok...” Leo smiled proudly as his daughter agreed. Scooping his daughter up into his arms, Natalia nuzzled into Leo’s shoulder whilst he patted Michael’s shoulder, “Sorry... she can be awfully shy sometimes...” Michael nodded in agreement, “It’s a lot for us on a good day, I can only imagine how it can be for a little one...”

Standing behind his niece as Leo held her securely in his strong muscular arms, Liam cooed, “It’s time to go cutie...” as he messed around, pulling on her Dutch braids playfully that cascaded down her back, getting Natalia to look around in the wrong direction before Natalia looked back at him scrunching up her tiny nose. Liam began pointing to himself in shock pulling funny faces, “You think it was me??” prompting the five year old to giggle, “You’re so silly Uncle Liam!!” As Leo began to move, Natalia held onto her father just that bit tighter as Leo and Liam walked side by side together towards the tunnel and closer to the crowd. Leo kissed his daughter’s cheek as she pointed out towards the field, completely mesmerised by her surroundings. “Where did you two disappear off to?” Leo chuckled shouting across as Drake raced towards them, his face reddened from running, “You don’t want to know...” Lia’s hazel eyes slowly narrowed as she observed the red and gold colours that Jackson wore. The Princess unimpressed stuck her tongue out towards him. “Natalia...” Liam tried his hardest not to laugh, “That’s not very nice... Leo... I think we’ve a little hooligan in our midsts...” Placing her into the ground, Leo raised his brow sternly whilst she pouted, “Say sorry... or I’ll take you home...” Natalia stood, her eyes wouldn’t meet the little boy’s in front of her as she mumbled, “I’m sorry Jackson for being rude...” She looked up at her father, Natalia’s eyes squinted in the sun as she moved little wisps of hair that framed her face away to make sure he wasn’t cross with her anymore, “That’s more like it...” Leo nodded keeping her in check.

Kneeling down, Liam spoke to the kids sweetly, “Hold hands you two and see that lady in the pink...” pointing over to the dug out, “...just walk over to her...” Jackson reached out for Natalia’s hand doing as they were told quietly walking in front of Liam and Leo, followed by the players. The crowds cooed as the little tots made their way onto the grass, smiling happily not realising how important today was. As Liam took Jackson to the left, Leo brought Natalia right both standing beside their respective team. Leo could hardly contain his pride, listening to the Orchestra begin to triumphantly play the Cordonian National Anthem as his daughter stood by his side, holding her father and Michael Castellanos’ hand. Leo smirked as he looked across at Liam with Jackson doing the same. It was something that he would never forget. Once the pomp and circumstance were over, Leo picked up Natalia, throwing her up into the air before catching her into his strong muscular arms. He couldn’t stop grinning as the five year old cuddled into him as they took their seats in the Royal Spectators box beside the players. “Well done beautiful!!” Leo cooed as the pocket sized Princess with Leo’s help climbed onto his knee, she wanted to see everything, kicking her little feet as she saw the ball being passed between the players. As the game came to it’s penultimate minute, nil-nil; it was decided there was a penalty shootout. No ifs, ands or buts, the trophy was being handed over today.

Natalia stood on the chair as she wrapped her arms around Leo tightly almost in anticipation. Her hazel green eyes sparkled with hope and complete wonder, patiently waiting until the roar came from the crowd, “Goallll!!!” Valtoria scored, but it didn’t take long for Portavira to catch up. It was the next round that would make or break them. Leo leaned slightly forward in his chair glaring out at the football field, his heart raced as Valtoria’s last opportunity went wide. Turning to his daughter, Leo grinned before winking at her, “This is it baby girl!” Nervously the whole stadium went quiet with bated breath as Michael Castellanos kicked the ball. They waited what felt like an eternity for the ball to connect with the net but as the whistle blew, Leo triumphantly rose to his feet, Natalia nestled safely in his arms, “Come on!!” she giggled, “Go... go!!” Leo gave her a massive cuddle as the little girl squealed in delight, “Papa...” she pointed excitedly towards the running crowd to the field, almost immersing herself as much as she could with the joy that surrounded her, “He scored... he scored!” nearly wriggling herself out of Leo’s arms as she was so excited, “it might be best putting you on the ground young lady...” Leo began to laugh. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she did a little happy dance, prancing around as the trophy was handed to Portavira.

The Royal’s were escorted from the Spectator box earlier than the rest of the crowd; Lia and Jackson ran ahead as they got through the tunnel giggling and laughing, “You two slow down...” Leo and Drake began to jog after them until they heard the ill fated high pitched squeal and a rattle coming from the corner. “Fuck...” the colour ran from Leo’s face as he saw the little girl lying there on the concrete floor, holding her arm as she sobbed. Jackson feeling sorry for his friend began to cry as well not knowing what was happening. With Liam running off to get a medic, Leo kneeled down, his heart in his mouth, “Lia, Where does it hurt sweetheart? Tell papa...” the tiny Princess bit down onto her lip pointing to her wrist. He took a deep breath noticing the small bit of swelling. Liam pulled Leo back slightly as the two medics checked Natalia over, “I’d get her over to the general to get an x-ray done... just to be on the safe side... that swelling is happening too quickly to be a sprain...”

Leo didn’t hesitate, without speaking he threw Liam the keys to his Range Rover, “Get the car and call ahead...” before scooping his daughter carefully into his arms, carrying her through the clubhouse and into the waiting car before any of the paparazzi could intervene or follow them. He was surprised as she quietly sobbed, no dramatics, nothing other than pouting as Leo tried his best to distract her from the pain from the bumpy roads as Liam rallied the 4x4 through the Portavira countryside back to the Capitol. Liam hadn’t wasted time, calling Bastien and the Kings Guard to ensure their privacy as they lined the entrance to the hospital gates. Shimmying himself out of the car as delicately and gracefully as he could, Leo sprinted throw the doors of the hospital towards the open elevator, frantically pressing the button for paediatrics. The perks of being Royalty, Natalia had no time to wait as the mobile x-ray machine was wheeled into her Private room she winced as the radiographer moved her arm, squealing in pain as she tried to pull it back, “Papa noooooo!!!” as Leo had to hold her tight, his heart breaking into a million pieces.” Shush baby girl I got you... it’s ok... shush...” They had a patient wait as the doctor returned with the results. Natalia raised her brow as she watched carefully, completely intrigued as the film was put up on the light board, “Ohhh...” she sighed, “Mira la foto papa...” The middle aged doctor began to laugh, “Yes, look at the photograph indeed...”

“Good evening Your Majesties, Your Royal Highness, Duke Valtoria and Viscount Walker... as you can see...” he pointed to the x-ray film, “There is a small bend and crack within the radius bone, a green stick fracture, nothing too serious but it will warrant a cast... but first...” the doctor reached into his pocket producing two lollipops, “Princess, Viscount... these are for you...” smiling kindly at a worried Leo, the doctor eased his conscious, “This is common and we’ll get her fixed up in no time...” As the plaster cast was fitted Leo brushed her hair from her face, before gently kissing the crown of her head mumbling, “Your mama isn’t going to be very happy with me...” but for Natalia, it just seemed like a normal day; no crying, no nothing as she smiled eating her lollipop propped up on the hospital bed, “Cast should come off in 6-8 weeks, but she can’t fly home for the next 24 hours; I hope that’s ok? I presume that you will need this scanned to Laurentia Your Majesty for the Princess’ records...” Leo nodded not even listening to the doctor as he mumbled off their Royal Doctor’s name, the Paediatrician handed the file to the nurse whispering to her, “Please scan this immediately... and enlist Royal Protocol...” Royal Protocol within Cordonia’s General hospital essentially meant that the records would be shredded immediately to preserve their privacy. “I will just get your discharge papers...”

Leo cleared his throat, “Liam...” he slowly shifted off of the bed. Leo looked a state in the last hour going from perfectly coiffed to his shirt collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up and tie undone, “Can you sit with her, I need to call Bella...” Liam raised his brow slightly at the prospect, “Good luck, I most certainly don’t want to be you...” as Leo walked outside of the room to take the call, Liam and Drake both knowing what he was going to have to put up with. “Hey... I...” Leo took a deep breath, his voice slightly trembling, “Lia had a little fall and we had to... Bella wait... don’t freak out... it was a little green stick fracture but... yes I know... no... Bella honestly it’s...” Leo had to pull the phone away from his ear as Isabella shouted. Her thick Laurentian accent became stronger the more angry she got, not giving him a chance to say anything. Slowly opening the door, Leo emerged. He ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair looking completely defeated, exhaling loudly he tried to muster a chuckle, “Come on beautiful...” he reached out picking up his daughter, “Mama will be here soon...” Liam rolled his eyes towards Drake before shaking his head, “I might need to enlist a funeral director tonight...” Drake nodded in agreement, “Bella’s going to kill him... it’s the last thing they needed right now...”

As the evening drew closer, Leo was nervous - he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach knowing that at any minute now, Isabella would be coming through that door and it was the topic of discussion that all three men steered clear of. Liam tried to hand him a tumbler of Calvados but Leo shook his head, “Sorry brother... I might need it in a while though...” he mustered a painful chuckle. Liam patted his brother’s shoulder in support, “Hey big guy... don’t beat yourself up, it happens... Drake here...” Liam raised his glass towards him, “If you remember, never left the emergency room - he was too busy playing knights with Olivia with actual daggers...” Leo raised his brow but never spoke, his attentions turning to Natalia as she played happily with Jackson. “I’m gonna head to the airport... Liam do you mind keeping an eye on her when I go get Bella...” Leo took a deep breath before he lowered his tone, “to be honest... I’d rather the argument away from the kids... she’s pissed...” Liam nodded as Leo took his keys from his pocket, “...Sensible option... I take it you might need room made in the family mausoleum... just in case?” Leo couldn’t help himself, smirking at Liam’s teasing , “All bets are possible brother... it could make a good wager...”

The drive to the airport was quiet. Extremely quiet. The road back not so much. As quickly as Isabella’s feet touched Cordonian soil, she glared at him as she stood dressed all in black her chiffon blouse ruffled in the wind and tight leather skinny pants accentuated the Laurentian Queen’s tiny waist. Isabella was seething, “Get in the fucking car...” she spat under her breath as she walked passed Leo, slamming the door behind her. This was not going to be a fun conversation. Purposely Leo took the more scenic route back to the Palace in order to let the petite brunette to cool down before she could see Natalia. Leo was not in the mood for an argument, stopping the car so they could have it out. “Bella... I...” Leo awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair. Isabella sat with her cheeks sucked in and arms folded, “Leo... don’t!” She unfolded her arms, her hands gesticulating angrily, “I don’t want to hear it... I told you to watch her! You know what she’s like, one minute there the next she’s fucking half way down the road to God knows where!”

Leo took a deep breath trying to calm the situation, “Please see reason to this, she tripped that was all... it’s only a little fracture it could have happened anywhere...” Isabella’s almond shaped eyes narrowed angrily towards Leo, “...A little fracture? I don’t care if it was a little fracture, a big fracture, a bump on the head... my daughter should not be hurt right now...” Leo clicked his tongue at Isabella’s suggestion unimpressed, “You mean our daughter... Jesus Isabella...” he began to raise his voice, “God forbid that someone isn’t as fucking perfect as you are... it was a accident.. she’s running around the Palace as if nothing happened so get off of your fucking high horse... it must be amazing to see what it’s like looking down on the rest of us!” Isabella didn’t even look at him as she snorted, “Just hurry up...”

#choices #leo x isabella #the royal romance #playchoices #prince leo #choices fanfiction #choices the royal romance #playchoices fanfiction #queen isabella #royal romance au

[shiberpostshere]

THE GENTLE DRIZZLE OF THE NIGHT

Pairing → Kim Junmyeon (Suho) x Female Reader

Genre → Fluff

Word Count → 4K

Synopsis→ The beginning of the weekend, its drizzling all over the city and you take the chance of filling in for someone else’s blind date which soon turns out to be the best first date you’ve went on.

My Masterlists

The idea of blind dates often feels ambiguous for you to voluntarily participate in but you’re presented with a tricky situation where you are unable to decline. 

“I don’t do blind dates, Dia, you know that.” You answer with much difficulty as you rush towards the subway, the phone sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear. 

Your room-mate is determined on the other line, “I swear my colleague said she would go but I can’t just cancel on the guy last minute!” 

Climbing down the stairs you finally get a proper hold on the phone, “Why should I fill in at the last minute? I don’t want to.” Your persistence remains consistent. 

“(Y/N) please, just this once. He’s a great guy, you won’t regret it. I will feel really bad if I don’t keep my side of promise.” Her pleading voice wavers your decision.

The number of blind dates you went to as a college student still make you shudder. The time you were stood up, the time you had to cover the entire bill, the time your date won’t look up from their phone, all the worst possible scenarios. You definitely don’t need a strange man to ruin the beginning of a much needed weekend but you trust Dia just a little bit more than those who had set you up previously.

Huffing a sigh, you turn around to leave the station, “Fine!”

The answer earns you a shrilling cheer. “I swear, I owe you and I won’t forget about it, I won't.” 

Finding an empty spot near the bus station, you resume the conversation. “I am dressed in my casual clothes, I won’t stay if I don’t like him and he better not be a creep in his 40s.” You state the conditions. 

She lets out a sound of relief, “Don’t worry. I will send you his name, he made a reservation at a restaurant, it’s a casual setting and I LOVE YOU!” An unexpected kissing sound is delivered which you chuckle at.

“Okay, okay, I love you too, quickly text me the details, see you after!” The call ends and your phone pings with a message in a minute full of details regarding the stranger you’re about to go on a ‘date’ with. 

What the hell, what could go wrong? A blind date for Friday night it is. 

You glance down at your outfit, a loose tee and boyfriend jeans, you shrug, this will have to do. 

The restaurant Dia texted you details of is only a street away. Luckily, your last appointment happened to be in a popular area and so does this restaurant. 

It’s Friday night with gentle on and off drizzle that has set a pleasing, warm and dispersed filter over the entire city, adorning it with a muted, twinkling, coral hue. As you walk towards the restaurant, you detect the pungent remnants of the rain in the air. 

The night life is bustling with greasy street food and hurrying back home to relax after a long week of work and you’re making your way towards what might be a famous food place in the most basic attire ever. 

Checking the address again, you take a right turn. The place is called, 'Daydream' and not hard to spot as the neon sign blinks atop the building in it's silver glory.

A little hesitant, you take a peek inside. The ambience is inviting and intimate. The setting is definitely meant for couples and fancy meetings. Drawing in and out a few deep breaths, you attempt to fix your hair in the translucent glass and step inside. 

The humid heat of the outside world is left behind and you are greeted with a refreshing atmosphere blended with floral fragrance and rich aroma of delicacies. 

Dia, this is no way a place you come dressed in T-shirt and jeans. 

You approach the reception desk tentatively. 

“Good evening ma’am, Welcome to Daydream. How may I help you?” The male flashes you a polite smile. 

You mirror his expression, “Good evening, I am here to meet Mr. Kim, he made a reservation.” 

The receptionist nods, “One second ma’am, let me check.” He shifts his eyes to the computer screen whereas you begin to feel out of place a little more as the minutes on the clock tick by. 

“Yes, Mr. Kim has a reservation. If you would please follow me.” He gestures with his hand towards the main area. 

He leads you to a table that offers the view of the street on the other side, people walking by and the vehicles zooming by onto their business. You thank him as he pulls out a chair and leaves.

A minute since you’ve settled down and a woman approaches you. “Good evening ma’am, I am Aliah, I will be your server tonight. Would you like to order something or wait for the expected company to arrive?” 

“I would like to wait, thank you.” You answer, clutching your messenger bag for some familiarity in the setting that feels like it is lulling you into a trance, you experience only after sipping a well-aged, red wine.

 The restaurant is comfortably...elegant, brightness toned down to create a somber environment that keeps one’s attention on their company. 

The other tables except for a few empty ones are occupied by couples embraced in their own bubble of chatter. Unknowingly, your hand keeps reaching out to your hair to fix god-knows-what. While you wait, you decide to text Dia for conning you into believing that you are dressed for the occasion. 

It is hard to believe that just half an hour ago you were running around in a wedding hall, delivering instructions as your assistant jotted them down. 

“Hello, I am sorry I am a little late, I was--” A frantic voice interrupts your silence. 

The owner of the voice takes the seat in front of you and his expression continues to dissolve more and more into a puzzled one. 

Is there something on my face? God, I should’ve checked once in the bathroom if I knew a walking god would be sitting opposite to me. 

The male appears to be in his late twenties, dressed in a crisp, white shirt with accents of blue flowers on the front pocket, his gentle face studies you in a way as if he is attempting to solve a riddle. He is breathtaking. 

I am extremely under-dressed compared to him, fantastic!

“Oh no, please don’t worry about it, Dia mentioned in the message that you work a little farther from here. It is nice to meet you, I am (Y/N) (Y/L/N)” You stand up and offer him your hand, instantly regretting that your work ethics decided to reveal themselves now.  

He furrows his brows before standing up himself and taking your hand. “Oh, well, I am Kim Junmyeon, better known as Suho, whichever is fine, I guess.” Both of you move your hands in a mismatched manner and settle back in your seats. 

You are unable to shake your blind date jitters. 

“Is everything alright?” He inquires with concern. 

It’s best he knows before we begin, “Okay so, I know I am under-dressed for the date because I came here straight from work but I have to be honest with you.” You begin speaking and he leans back with his arms and legs crossed. “I haven’t been on a blind date for a long time and I wasn’t supposed to meet you today. The person you were supposed to meet cancelled last minute and Dia wanted to keep her promise and sent me instead.” With a soft exhale, you confess. 

The uncertainty fades off his features and he leans to the front, his right hand supporting his chin. “Oh well, that explains it. Thank you for being honest. It is quite unexpected but why don’t we make the best out of it?” His statement makes you smile to yourself with the way he delivers it, a look of assurance. 

“So, you’re alright with it?” 

Curiosity is evident on his features. “Yes, I don’t see why not. What about you?” 

You shrug. “Sure, why not, other than the fact that I am under-dressed.” 

His smile widens at your response, gaze ever so observant indicating that he is still calculating the situation. 

He lifts up his hand to call out the server. “Shall we begin the evening then?” 

The atmosphere of the restaurant and the comfort of the male you’ve just met settles you into a state of familiarity, without worrying about your hair or your outfit. Both of you study the menu together.

“What are your thoughts on seafood pasta?” 

A man after my heart. “I’d love seafood pasta. Wine?” 

“Red or white?” He looks up. 

“Let’s go with white for a change.” You close the menu. 

He nods, places the order and the server leaves. 

“That was a quick and harmonious decision, don’t you think?” Your fingers dance on your lap with excitement about the upcoming hearty dinner. 

His finger taps the menu. “I look forward to a good meal every day.” 

You grin. “That makes it two of us.” 

“Just a minute.” He sends a quick text and the conversation resumes. 

It begins on the note of stating your respective career and you’re least surprised to hear his. If he had made you guess, you’d answered correctly in a single attempt. 

“You manage a firm? It explains the choice of place.” You eye the surroundings. 

He shakes his head with an amused expression, “Managing the firm is a family business, I am a person who enjoys art as well. If you had the choice, what would you have selected?” 

You consider for a moment before replying. “I enjoy new flavours so I would like to eat at a hole in the wall restaurant that serves spicy food.” 

He hums. “Well, that’s a deal breaker, I cannot handle spicy food but I would love to come with for a second date.” 

His comment causes your lips to perk up naturally but you decide to hold it back. “Who said there would be a second date? I don’t think I can date someone who manages a firm or someone who mentions second date ten minutes into the first one. I am into someone who is open to new things.” 

He clasps his hands together and places them on the table. “Aren’t you being stereotypical? Also, my bold statement must prove something.” 

“Okay, kinda but tell me three out of the box things you have done.” You ask, putting on your best challenging expression. 

He chuckles. “I can name more than three, I went paragliding, I paint as a hobby and I think I am quite good at it, I have a winery in Italy, I also visit Hawaii to enjoy the sun and the beach and I--” He doesn’t even take a moment to ponder while listing such enviable activities and hobbies. 

“Okay, okay, now you’re just making me jealous. I haven’t indulged as much as you have and I apologize for being stereotypical.” He wears a victorious expression at your defeat. 

The food is finally served, wafting mouth-watering aroma, you two continue your conversation while digging in. 

“And you decided to be a wedding planner because you like planning events?” 

You nod, “I like the idea of planning things and then executing them. It is absolutely satisfying to see what was dreamt come to life.” 

He slightly softens at your answer. “Which wedding has been your favourite so far?” 

It comes to you instantly, “Oh, definitely the one I planned for an old couple in a manor. It wasn’t the venue or the decorations that made it special but the love they shared towards each other. I thought I had gotten over the ‘crying-at-every-wedding-phase’ but that day, I couldn’t hold myself back.” 

The food melts on your tongue, the wine adding a little kick. You are trying your best to keep your composure under his gaze that is highly alert. 

“That does sound beautiful. Everything you’ve said is quite contradictory to what I have experienced so far.” He sets down his spoons aside, leaning back into a relaxed state. 

“Likewise. It’s a first for me, going on a blind date with a lawyer. You belong to a different world but you feel familiar.” Placing down the fork, you finish as well but continue to sip your drink. 

He holds out his drink. “The familiarity perhaps comes from the way of accepting different things, which I see you are open to do. Like going on a blind date last minute.” 

You look at him with your mouth open, refusing to clink your glasses. “Okay, weird way of complimenting but take that back! I came so that you won’t feel like you’ve been stood up. I’ve had it happen and believe me, it’s not the best feeling.” 

A vague glimmer of wonder flashes across his face. 

“Alright, alright, yes, my fault but I am glad that it is you instead of the person who was supposed to show up.” His honest expression delivers the sincerity of his words. 

You fix your hair in a ponytail. “But what if that person is supposedly a better company than I am?” 

He reaches out and takes your hand, interrupting the course of tying your hair. “I don’t wish to think of what would have happened while I am enjoying the great company I have with me right now.” 

A little taken aback, you clear your throat and chuck the hair tie into your bag. “The feeling is mutual and I have to admit that you are beautiful, oh wait--” You say the last part out loud without realizing. 

He slightly tilts his head, eyes filled with piqued interest. “Am I beautiful?” 

The mesmerising tune of the violin offers you a little courage. “You are.” 

“But I definitely cannot surpass the level of looking so good in a T-shirt amongst women wearing dresses.” 

A sudden rush of heat takes all over you as you shift your eyes beyond the window to observe the nightlife. The gentle drizzling has begun again, illuminating the glow of the city. 

“What happened? Did I leave you speechless?” He pries further after his compliment. 

You cannot believe this smooth-talking man. “If you know you have then why do you ask? Do you want me to look as red as that traffic light there?” You point outside at the street. 

His palms cover his face as he laughs. “Do you want to eat dessert somewhere else? I know a great place that serves ice cream you cannot say no to.” 

Your eyes light up at the mention of ice cream. “How can one say no to ice cream?” 

“Amazing.” With that, he calls over the waiter again and you two split the bill. 

Thanking the server, you two step out of the dim-dizzying environment into the wet, busy streets of the city. 

“This way.” He begins walking and you step by his side as the mild drops are falling down from the midnight blue skies. “I am not carrying an umbrella with me.” 

“Neither am I.”  

“I guess a little rain won’t hurt.” He places both his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walks. 

The gentle droplets begin to cover your clothes and his, often landing on your eyes and clouding your vision for a brief moment. 

“The little rain is hurting in a way.” You say, making your way through the drift of people. 

He slowly pulls out his right hand, offering it to you. “Then we’ll have to hurry.” 

Without a second thought, you take his hand and he intertwines them together securely to make way carefully through the crowd. 

The night has shifted towards a more darker phase than before it began, the sky clear amidst the gentle drizzle. It’s hypnotising.

You feel grateful towards the woman who cancelled this date, otherwise you cannot imagine getting the opportunity to spend time with a man as pleasant and attractive as the one currently holding your hand. 

A mere five minutes of walking and you two halt in front of an ice cream store in an area less crowded than the one you were in before, you turn to him when you see it's a hole in a wall ice cream shop. 

“I see what you’re trying to do here.” He pulls you into the shop. 

Without looking back, he responds. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

This man is full of surprises. 

The chill in the shop causes both of you to shiver a little due your clothes brushed by the rain, you notice that they’re sticking to your body and even more to his that constantly catches your attention due to the sharp and tempting  definition. 

“Cone or cup?” His hand releases yours to pull out his wallet. 

“Cone and you’re paying?” 

“You can pay when we devour that spicy food.” 

You peek from his shoulders, “When did we decide that?” 

“We haven’t? Okay, we’ll talk about it over dessert. Which flavour do you want?” Ever since you’ve entered the shop, he still hasn’t met your eyes and yet continues to deliver statements that have you feeling flushed every minute. 

Scanning the options, you say, “One scoop of vanilla and one of chocolate.” 

“Two of the same please.” He pays the person behind the counter and hands you one cone. 

Before you can ask about where you will be eating, he takes your hand and walks out of the shop. “There is a park right in the front, a great place to own a shop, don’t you think?” 

“And we’ll be sitting on the drenched grass?” You happily skip behind him, careful about your ice cream. 

He turns around, his eyes turning into crescents. “Do you mind?” 

You shake your head, bewitched by his dampened hair sticking to his forehead, changing his appearance from the impersonal one at the restaurant to a more personal one under the streetlights. 

The park is abandoned due to the drizzle, the benches and the grass covered with an undisturbed sheet of droplets. 

You drop down and your jeans get soaked instantly. “I don’t think I should get up now, I will give people wrong ideas.” 

“Not many people on the street and I will keep your secret.” He winks, causing you to stick your tongue out in a disgusted manner. “Hold this, will you?” He hands you his ice cream and pushes his hair back from his face in a sleek motion. 

At the holy sight happening in front of you, you try not to crush the cones occupying both hands. His fingers undo the buttons on his wrist, rolling back his sleeves to his elbows and you can clearly see that the rain has casted a special spell of favouritism on him. 

“Don’t look at me like that, this is still our first date.” He plops down in front of you, taking back his ice cream that he eats in a not-so-subtle, sensual manner. 

This man is illegal.

You raise a brow, “And what does that mean?” You decide to implement his technique on him. 

He drives his face further causing you to reflexively move back. “I think it implies exactly what you’re thinking right now.” 

Defensively, you too, move forward and judging by his face, he didn't expect you to do so. “I’m thinking about stealing your ice cream right now.” 

His laughter livens up the numb environment. “Oh I know, don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing my ice cream.” 

“Oh my god, okay!” You roll your eyes and focus on your ice cream. 

His laughing doesn’t stop there, his delight keeps doubling the more you scrunch up your nose. “Alright, alright, it’s my fault, I’ll make it up to you.” 

“No, thank you.” Your teeth clatter as you savour the dessert. 

He pats the space right next to him. “Come here.” 

You slide closer within a heartbeat. “Yes?” 

“I have something to confess as well.” The sudden severity on his features shifts the mood. 

You nibble on the ice cream. “Go ahead, as long as you aren’t 42, it's fine.” 

He eyes you, dumbfounded. “Woman, do I look 42 to you?” 

You nudge him, “C’mon, just kidding, go on.” 

He draws in a deep breath and looks straight into your eyes with utmost sincerity. “I am not the supposed blind date you were to be meeting. I was there to meet a client who cancelled after I arrived, when I saw you, I thought the client came after all but when you confessed to what really it was, I decided to play along.” 

You blink once, then you blink twice and thrice to process what he’s just said. “Kim Junmyeon! What if I really stood someone up! My room-mate will kill me!” 

“Hey! I was the only person there who had a reservation under the name ‘Kim’, all the other tables were occupied after and yes, I am guilty, I am sorry but I cannot let go of an interesting person, an interesting woman at that.” He admits looking sinful, sinfully stunning even if he’s apologizing. 

You feel charmed yet mildly infuriated by his confession. 

“I’ve known you for an hour and half and I cannot believe I am already giving into your smooth talking so easily, let me see if my roommate has sent me death threats yet.” You pull out your phone to check if it is bombarded with messages and slump when you see numerous missed calls and texts from your roommate. 

However, as you read, they tell a different story. 

From: Dia

8:18: Why aren’t you answering my calls? (Y/N), I am sorry but he cancelled last minute due to an emergency, you can come home. 

8:21: Is everything okay? Please answer your calls, I don’t want you waiting for someone at the restaurant, it’s actually not so casual as I had mentioned. 

8:26: (Y/N) I am waiting for your reply, god, you and your habit of keeping your phone on silent. Don’t make me feel this awful!

8:30: I give up, TEXT ME ASAP YOU SEE THIS!!!!!!!!!!

You frantically type a response that you are doing well and receive a message of relief instantly. 

“So, how angry is he?” He is already aware that he is right yet he wants you to admit but you won’t be. 

“Why did you play along? I am not exactly the most charming person solely based on my appearance. Was it pity?” You nibble on the cone with your shoulders drooped.

He leans a little into your space. “No, it was your honesty. You can say that the liking for honesty comes with the profession.” His statement seems believable. 

“Honesty, hm?” You pull your knees closer to your chest.

He too finishes his dessert and diverts his attention solely on you. “I am being serious when I say that this has been a wonderful first date. You are beautiful (Y/N).” His fingers gently tucks a strand behind your ear, “Let me make it up to you.” 

His gaze makes you shiver more than the cold winds around you. 

He fingers travel to your cheek, pulling you closer. “May I?” 

You need a taste. You grab his neck and pull him closer. He understands your confirmation and his warm lips meet yours as his other hand pulls you right into his chest in a firm hold. 

His cold lips and yours alike move with an urgency to ignite a warmth in between, you can feel the thumping of his heart against your chest as he can feel yours. Even though he holds you close, his arm around your waist keeps pulling you in even further. His thumb gently caresses your cheek and you let your fingers weave through his damp locks. 

He pulls apart for a moment, your foreheads resting on each other, his eyes meet yours and he draws you in for another brief kiss that leaves you entirely breathless. He feels like a hearth, you cannot get enough. The sweet taste of vanilla and chocolate is being exchanged but it's not cold, it’s full of butterflies that are dancing in your stomach as you gasp the moment he oh-so-gently pecks on your lower lip with some mysterious magic. 

The kiss halts but you two do not separate. His chest heaves up and down and so does yours, his eyes are closed and so are yours, he holds you close and so do you. For a moment, you enjoy the silence to calm your senses that wish for you to unleash the hidden desires. 

You slowly open your eyes and greet his that are already open, a recognisable faint gleam floating within. 

“Did I make up for stealing your date and time?” He wraps his other free hand around you as well. 

You lock your arms around his neck. “Can we do this again after we eat spicy food?” 

He bites his lower lip. “Do you think it’s a good idea after eating spicy food?” He unlocks his arms to hold your cheeks. 

“I was talking about eating ice cream, what are you thinking about?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

His expression transforms into something beyond belief, making you snicker. “Yes, of course. I, too, was thinking about eating ice cream. Sure I was.” 

You begin laughing in his embrace, throwing your head back, the surroundings light up as he joins you, his forehead meeting yours as you two laugh your heart out. 

A/N: Hello! Yesterday, it was raining and I was listening to Self-Portrait, that album always leaves me speechless. I really wanted to let out those emotions so I wrote what came in my mind. It has been a long time since I’ve written and it felt liberating in a way. What do you think after reading it? Do let me know! What’s your favourite song from the mini album? 

#exo #exo imagines #exo fluff #exo scenarios #kpop #kim junmyeon #suho imagines #suho scenarios #kim junmyeon fluff #kim junmyeon scenarios #suho fluff #yixing #baekhyun #chanyeol #jongdae #kyungsoo #sehun #minseok #jongin #thegentledrizzleofthenight

[themoonsbeloved]

hello!! for the ask meme, 1, 4, 5, 11, and 28? (if these are too many tho you can just do the ones you feel like doing :])

HELLO 

1. favourite place in your country?

I mean unfortunately I haven’t had the opportunity to visit many places outside of the city but Scotland has a lot of beautiful islands. I once went on a boat trip for a week as part of a qualification course thing, and for the life of me I cannot remember the names of the two islands we visited but god they were stunning. 

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

So disclaimer I am not a native Scot lol my family originate from South Asia so me???? Liking white ppl food???... its more likely than you think LMAOO. Like as much as I wanna say I am very well-versed in Scottish culture and cuisine I am not, because I grew up in a very heavily SA populated area and so I have never felt the need to indulge in things like haggis (if you can get halal haggis that is) and like, deep-fried mars bars, and crisp and chip buttys. However I do like shortbread, I rarely eat it but its something my grandparents always have. Also batter fried fish and chips are i guess a classic. One thing I used to eat a lot in highschool were oatcakes, which I guess are largely associated with Scotland since I think we produce oats a lot. Yeah I’m talking about the bland dry oatcakes, and usually you would like put salmon and cream cheese on it and shit, BUT LET ME TELL YOU MY SOUTH ASIAN ASS WOULD PUT SAALAN/CURRIES ON THEM. IDK LOL personally I find them filling and satisfying and I like the texture, but they’re tasteless so back then I was like let me just put on left over curries for the flavour cause the oatcakes would soak it up.... Now I want oatcakes and some sabzi ka saalan. 

5. favourite song in your native language?

Uhhh I don’t think I have a fave song in ANY language there’s just so many I enjoy lol

11. favourite native writer/poet?

I say I’m not well-versed in Scottish culture but I am also not very knowledgeable with any Pakistani and/or SA writers and poets v_v I am not profoundly culturally in touch with SA poetry and writing besides what I see online. I need to really read more just no money. In terms of Scottish poetry unfortunately the only guy I was forced to learn in highschool was fuckin Robert Burns who I do not care for but remember his name cause his birthday is the same as my sibling’s lol. 

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

Hell yeah we have so many Lochs here, don’t have a favourite because my family is boring and we haven’t visited a lot. Loch Lomond is overrated at this point lol. 

#thank you for the ask this was fun lol #solarship

[gloaming-eye]

In Patience’s Wake

(( This is the story of Sarlien coming into the void; he didn’t choose it in the sense of following Umbric, or Alleria. Instead, his is a more N’zoth-flavoured story. ))

It was early morning, if the mechanical click, click, click of the pocket watch haphazardly tossed onto the lid of the barrel near his bedside could be read true. What little sunlight that managed to sneak through the clouds gave proof of the day, but it filtered too much to divine time. It was scattered & muffled by the overcast haze that blanketed the sky, & further through the green-tinted seaglass buttressed in the wall of his cabin. He drew the greyish curtains with an errant toss of his arm regardless. There was still time for sleep.

Outside the deck was already abuzz with activity; the crew of the Patience was a tireless lot, tending to their duties without regard to the abysmal sky. The majority were young men & women, enlisted to the Stormwind Navy & shipped off with little more than a basic course in how to tie a proper knot. They were, however, apt to listen, & the orders barked by the chief’s mate who picked through the movements of their tasks were acted upon with deft attention. She strode across the deck as if it were second-nature, the subtle sway of her hips aligning with the rock of the ship beneath her oiled-leather boots. The cast of her features spoke to her time on the sea, as if the salt had crept into the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and brandished her hair with licks of white. The insignia of her rank was pinned dutifully to her breast, glinting gold in what little flickers of sunlight there was.   

Below deck was much the same, the passageways and rooms a hive of bustling folk. A midshipman picked through the various arenas with an eagle’s eye, leaning just far enough into the doorway to spy on whoever was within before passing on in a huff. This poor young man was searching for something, it seemed, & it caused him a great deal of frustration if the scowl on his face could be interpreted as such. Before he had managed to pass completely out of earshot, however, his fussiness caught the eye of a copper-haired man who had been elbow-deep in an organizational chart, delegating duties to the various cooks & crew ambling in & out of the galley.

“Arlett!” He shouted as the unfortunate-looking midshipman stopped - startled just enough to turn & aim a wide-eyed look at the man. “You know he sleeps ‘till noon. No use lookin’ when y’know where he is,” he winked, gesturing with his clip-board. 

The midshipman, Arlett, whose face contorted in vaguely-controlled annoyance under his mop of fawny-coloured hair, let out a long groan. “I had hoped today would be different,” he called back. “What am I supposed to do, Baker? This elf is insufferable..” All this earned poor Arlett was a bark of laughter from Baker, who waved a dismissive gesture with his papers & turned back to the collection of crew mulling over breakfast. “He’s the only one we ‘ave, mate. Light bless ‘im.” And with that their conversation had concluded, Arlett meandering with heavy steps towards the stairs that led to the quarterdeck & Baker listing off the duties of the day.

Sarlien was, even in his brightest days, predisposed to acting on his own accord & at his own pace. This wasn’t to say he was lazy, of course, but the fact that his internal clock left him burning the midnight oil more often than not left him vulnerable to the early birds that roosted on the Patience. This also left him open to the fussy whims of his assigned midshipman. 

The sharp raps against his door spoke of the very devil, & Sarlien - who was still cocooned cozily within his blankets - aimed a thin, one-eyed look at the source of the forsaken noise. “Chaplain, please! We’ll be landing today, & the surgeon wants to go over th--” Before Arlett could continue the door was swung open. Meeting his eyes was a tall man with sharp features, sharp ears, & a sharp attitude. The dull, blue-glow of his eyes were slits under his heavy red brows, and he spoke in a hoarse tone as if only moments before he’d been peacefully slumbering. The midshipman immediately pursed his lips, his gaze lifting to meet the quel’dorei’s face. 

“If I have to tell that surgeon one more time that I’ll /personally/ revoke his medical license if he makes another status meeting at the crack of damn dawn, Light help me,” With a wide yawn he lifted his arms high above his head in a stretch & then relaxed, one hand lingering to comb through the gentle waves of his unbound, amber hair. “I’ll be there shortly. Don’t wait for me.” And with that the priest closed the door, directly in the face of Arlett who stood in shakey silence before turning, sighing, & ambling back from whence he came.

There was something to be said about unrushed early mornings. There was a ritual that could take place, one in which the veil of sleep still softened one’s surroundings & gave peace to the coming day. But Sarlien rarely found such calm,even as he pulled on the dark-coloured trousers & clipped suspenders over his linen shirt. Even as his fingers dusted the invisible dirt from his orthodox trappings, buttoning the black frock up to his chin & encircling a golden chain over his collar. Even as he belted his sleeves above his elbows, rubbed life into his tattooed forearms, & pulled on a pair of worn, leather boots encrusted with dried salt water. Even as he smoothed back his fiery hair & bound it in a neat bun low on the back of his head. These things were all mechanical. There was no divine meaning, no connectedness he gained from this.

The chaplain passed across the deck unhindered by the goings-on; it seemed he too had the grace of a sea-worthy traveller as he strode towards his destination with meaningful steps. His blue eyes were lifted, but not to meet the gaze of those who watched him, rather to seek the horizon line. It was still clouded in haze - just as it had been for days - & there were no seabirds for miles. Even the sun couldn’t manage to drive the dreary mist away. Sarlien felt cold, even out here in the light of dawn. He shivered despite himself and moved on, casting off the creeping feeling that came from the fog.

“- and what will they think when their first deployment of medics is late? We can’t slow our course - we /must/ reach the harbor on time!” A booming voice echoed across the bridge for all to hear; though none turned to pay it any mind, the crew was smarter than that. None but Sarlien, who appeared upon the steps with a deadpan expression - earning a wide collection of faces upon his arrival. Some tipped their heads in greeting, others frowned, Arlett stared anywhere but the new coming chaplain as if ashamed, & the speaker paused with his eyes pinned to the elf. “Well. Nice of you to join us, priest,” he barked, crossing his arms over his wide stomach. “Fancy clearing some of this fog so we can make it to Boralus on time? Or do you hold us to the same standard of timeliness as you hold?” The crowd hummed & murmured, but said nothing as the uneasy air electrified around them.

Sarlien answered with an impassive wave as he stationed himself near the side of the bow, fingers curling over the banister as he looked to the water below. It seemed to him like boiling ink as the waves bubbled & crashed against the ship - not enough to cause commotion, but just enough to turn the stomach of a less seaworthy soul. “I am not in control of the mists, Dr. Lorden. Nor am I in control of time,” he offered, a tinge of bite to his words but nothing to be deemed disrespectful.

“So call the Light & clear it. We didn’t bring you so you could haunt your cabin & offer nothing b-” The boisterous Dr. Lorden started, waving a heavy hand around him as if to gesture to this universal haze - but he was cut short by a spritely young woman in blue & gold.

“Dr. Lorden,” she started, her words crisp as she set her grey eyes on the man stationed at her right - who almost immediately wilted. All bark, no bite, Sarlien decided with a ghost of satisfaction. “One man cannot turn the tide. Our Chaplain is deployed to assist the Church - and to ally with the tidesages of Boralus. It’s been a long time since our people have harbored in Kul Tiras, and his is a matter of diplomacy - not a flashlight.”

The majority of the conversing crew were clustered around a large, crescent-moon shaped table scattered with information. There were maps, timetables, various sheets of writing - but a map of the Great Sea was at its center. The coast of Stormwind City had been marked, as well as the island of Kul Tiras - and importantly Tiragarde Sound with Boralus at its prime. An enameled icon of a ship had been placed to represent the patience, a red cross emblazoned on her side to designate her as a noncombatant. She held healers, aside from the crew, destined to bolster the troops already deployed for the war effort. But her timing was less than ideal. 

“Now, if we’ve our squabbling out of our system, I propose we keep our heading slow. As I mentioned, our ships are sailing unfamiliar waters. I won’t be the Captain of a ship who meets its end chasing timetables in the fog. We are the /Patience/, after all. It may do you some good to reflect on that.” The woman nodded once, the ringlets of her blonde hair bouncing as she moved. It was decided - steady on. The group dispersed like the mists around them, seeking their positions or the solace elsewhere. Though disheartened by the idea of more days on the water, their Captain had made a logical decision. It’d be silly to try to play chicken with the unknown.

Sarlien had turned back to the stairs, intent on returning to his quarters when the soft-spoken Captain piped up behind him. “Chaplain,” she started, her cheeks round in a smile. She hadn’t been hardened by the sea yet. This was new blood - probably her first command. But it was apparent that she wasn’t seeking glory in this station - rather, the astute decision spoke to her critical thinking. Her mission was to deliver the medics to safe harbor; if that meant a few lost days, this was far better than lost lives. But even with her sharp mind her youth was apparent in the inflection of her voice, the dust of rosy pink across her nose, her sweet smile. 

And so the priest turned, less edged than he had been in the past. The nature of this woman was infectious, and one that softened the scowl on his lips. “You’re still free to speak to the crew, you know. I understand you’re an accomplished medic, as well as a bishop. You’re in the perfect position to inspire some hope in them; maybe not the /ship’s/ crew, but the medics.” He knew the meaning behind her words. She wanted him to rekindle the light in these soldiers’ souls; because that’s what they were in war: troops. Even the doctors deployed under the Alliance’s army would bend to the tide of the Horde if they found themselves on the wrong battlefront. These men were scared. 

“I believe that ship has already sailed, Captain Vale,” he answered gently, linking his hands behind him as he spoke. “They mistrusted me the moment I stepped aboard - you’ve surely noticed that I am by no means a part of the majority.” And this was true; Sarlien was not just the only ordained man aboard (for certainly there were many believers in the Light), but the only non-human individual aboard. 

He’d chalked this up to the nature of their deployment, in that the whole collection had been uprooted from Stormwind City, itself. Despite his standing in the Church of the Holy Light, Sarlien was greeted with wariness within most Alliance lands. Even more so now with the chaotic relationship between the Horde & the Alliance. It hadn’t been that long ago that Silvermoon fell, after all, & the only reason he ended up on the side of blue was happenstance. He was not collected by saviours in red - rather, he had run from the rubble of his city into the arms of a Silver Hand encampment. But this is a story for another day.

 “Don’t sell yourself short, Chaplain,” Vale chided, & looked over the ship’s edge to the churning waters as the elf had done before. “They trust you more than they trust whatever’s out there, I assure you.”

Sarlien had left the young captain to her business after their conversation, taking his leave with respect to her rank, but no promises that he would act on her advice. Instead he found himself back in his quarters to spend the day, watching the sun dim through the window as if entranced by the passing of time & the shapes that danced in the far away fog. Just an effect of the setting sun, the clouds, & the sea, he decided. So long as the Light lingered - however scant - their ship would be safe. He drifted to sleep at his desk, dozing into restless slumber over an open tome.

---

What awoke him was the bellow of crunching wood & the lurching movement of the ship coming to an abrupt stop. The sparse belongings that had been removed from his single trunk skittered to the floor and rolled towards the bow as if pulled taut against a bow string, books & loose objects flinging to the wall. Sarlien too was sent in motion, falling in a panic to the ground & leveled between a wall & what he could only imagine was furniture as the level of the ground threatened more & more towards vertical. 

He clambered for purchase, wordlessly calling out for help. But his voice was awash in the noises of the straining ship, the clattering fall of objects, & the cries of others so suddenly pulled from sleep & into whatever was happening. Managing to wrest free from being pinned, he crawled to the door - now almost located on what would now be the floor given the ship’s quickly changing direction. The noise was relentless, now just a drone of terror and rushing water as his fingers found the latch, pulled, & pushed the door aside despite the debris that had shuttered it closed. The glow of his eyes flared as he called on that far off, divine strength, a flicker of blue - & then brilliant gold. 

There was no chance of walking now, only a haphazard climb to the next door in his hallway atop fallen boxes and random objects piling. The water, too, had begun to spring through like fissures in the wood. This ship was failing - fast. He pushed hard against the first quarter’s door he found, vaguely hearing a bellowing shout from beyond it. He pushed harder & harder, but something blocked him from the other side. The priest relented, falling to another door where he struggled against it just as before. But before this one could so much as budge he found himself surrounded by the inky darkness of the nighttime sea.

The noise didn’t stop. It was as if the groans of the ship and bubbling cries of the drowning increased tenfold beneath the waves. He slammed a fist against the door, the movement dampened by the force of the water, before he pushed away - defeated. He needed to find a way out of this hallway, but his sense of direction had been thrown in the wake of the ship. There was too much around him, too many things were in flux. 

Suddenly - everything grew quiet. The jarring effect of hearing so much & then so little caused him only to panic further, that bubbling distress clawing from the pit of his stomach to his throat in a pitiful gasp. But there was nothing to breathe but water. So much water. He closed his eyes, the Light in the shadow of the crumbling ship snuffed out.

When he opened his eyes he found himself outside of the hallway. In fact, he found himself amongst nothing. Nothing but open ocean. There were no landmarks to tell him this, but his body was still suspended in the darkness. Perhaps this was death? He had no way of knowing, after all. There was a feeling of enveloping cold, something that chilled him beyond recognition. There was no sound. No light. No broken ship, or screaming companions. 

“Have you let go?”

The voice held no distinguishing features. It seemed both feminine & masculine, fierce & gentle. It shouted like ringing church bells in his ears, but somehow reached him like a whisper. His head turned despite himself to one side & then the other, searching. 

“Have you let go?”

It was a din in his mind, a clawing echo. But somehow it gave him some feeling of reassurance, like it released the knot in his belly with a single question. 

“Let go.”

Something moved in the far distance, just a subtle movement in the darkness. Sarlien thinned his eyes as if this would give him better vision, & there was another movement in the farthest reaches of his periphery. Still there was no terror growing in him, only curiosity. His hands reached forwards to try to paddle in the water but he found himself stuck in one position, if the movements meant anything to his location.

“Let GO.”

Suddenly he’d been struck. Thicere was a tinge of something akin to heat in the center of his chest, but it grew just as abruptly into cold, creeping ice. He managed to shift his arms, & claw at the space where the pain grew. Again he cried out & was met with nothing but the sweeping flood of water filling his lungs. He choked, & swallowed, & clambered against the growing ice that felt like splinters creeping further over his torso, into his arms, down his legs. It crept unrelenting & seeped into the very core of his bones, filling each atom of space with cold. 

In the back of his mind he would have likened it to being lit aflame. It seared into every nerve with a ferocity & pain that the priest had never known; not when his brother had doused the area around him in Light & he had been caught in the crossfire, not when the ghouls had ripped fissures in his arms as he struggled away from their capture. 

But just as the climax of the pain met the edges of his consciousness & his eyes began to fall back, it stopped, leaving nothing but a void in his chest that beat like a cold drum against his skin. There was no more water to keep him upright, & it was only the uneven, wet surface beneath him that gave him any clue as to where he was. Pieces began to fall in place. First was the scent of the sea, stones, moss, - but there was the taste of metal on the back of his tongue - blood. The call of seabirds rang clearly overhead like beacons of something curious far below. An arresting crash, and then a passing bubbling as the waves drew away. 

Had he survived? It was impossible - he felt his life slip by in the wake of drowning. There was no other explanation to the empty cold that ate at him, still. So he opened his eyes. Slowly things came into focus; the wood debris scattered on the coast, the lifeless bodies strewn over the smooth rocks, and the absolute stillness that veiled all but the rolling waves. He inhaled a deep breath despite himself, savoring the feeling but only finding himself reeling into a fit of coughs. As he wheezed, he curled in on himself and brought a shaky hand to his face. It was through a bleary blink that he stared at his palm. So cold, so grey - as if the life had been drained away and no color remained.

Still he struggled to his knees, and then his feet, powered by the same mechanical energy that brought him through those listless mornings. His dusky hands reached for purchase amongst the stacked piles of debri, slowly picking his way through the leftover wreckage. At each body he paused, laid a hand against their form for some sign of life, & then moved on. All were in the same state, but he checked on each as if in some trance. As if spurned on by the hope he’d failed to instill in these lost souls. But he found no life amongst them - none but he. 

Sarlien came upon the twisted form of Arlett, his eyes blown wide in horror. Then there was Baker, his fountain pen still pinned on his jacket lapel - though the ink it leaked collected in rivulets of the body’s blood. The surly doctor too, though only parts of him - only enough to identify. 

Captain Vale was one of the final bodies he’d found - it took so long that he’d begun to ignite some hope of her survival. Instead, he found the young woman with her arms twisted across the helm, pinned to the wheel by some sliding mass of wood. Her blond hair was splattered with blood, the color washed away by dirt and bile. Sarlien reached for one of her broken hands, his bluish-toned fingers cradling hers in a gentle embrace. He choked back a cry.

Was this all that was left in Patience’s wake?

#ic #sarlien #history

[ddagent]

50 Questions

Tagged by the amazing @agirlnamedkeith! And I’m tagging whoever fancies having a go! <3

What is the colour of your hairbrush? Black.

Name a food you never eat: Mayonaise. *makes a face*

Are you typically too warm or too cold? Both; my body seems to go from one extreme to the other. 

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Eating lunch whilst reading a trashy magazine.

What’s your favourite candy bar?  Wispa Gold or a Twirl.

Have you ever been to a professional sports game? No.

What was the last thing you said out loud? I’m not sure. I’ve been by myself the last hour and I alternate between internal thought and external thought. The last conversation I had was about zippy freezer bags. 

What is your favourite ice cream? Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food.

What was the last thing you had to drink? Pepsi Max

Do you like your wallet? It’s okay. I’m constantly worried it’s covered in germs, now.

What was the last thing you ate? Lunch! Chicken rolls, kettle crisps, and an apple. 

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? No.

What’s the last sporting event you watched? World Cup. 

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? Sweet and salty. I like the toffee flavour, but it gets stuck in my teeth.

Who is the last person you sent a text message to? My mum, asking her whether she wanted some free yet out of date shortbread.

Ever go camping? Fuck no.

Do you take vitamins? Multivitamins, vitamin c, and iron supplements to help fatigue.

Do you go to church every Sunday? I do not.

Do you have a tan? Slightly. 

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? Chinese food.

Do you drink your soda through a straw? I do not. My dentist is very angry with me. 

What colour socks do you usually wear? I have close to 30 pairs of various fun socks; my favourites being llama socks. I am currently barefoot. 

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Who are you, a cop?

What terrifies you? Spiders, being buried alive, insects laying eggs inside body cavities. 

Look to your left. What do you see? Outside my window. 

What chore do you hate most? Dusting; it really aggravates my allergies. 

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? The soap, Neighbours, and the fact that they keep pissing about with Karl and Susan.

What’s your favourite soda? Pepsi Max. 

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? Inside, but nine times out of ten I go to a place that delivers.

What’s your favourite number? Seven. 

Who’s the last person you talked to? My mum.

Favourite cut of beef? Rib-eye. 

Last song you listened to? I can’t remember. I’ve been listening to the Valley Girl soundtrack of late, and have the music from Sonic 3 stuck in my head.

Last book you read? Twas the Nightshift Before Christmas by Adam Kay. It was my Christmas Day read: I just cannot get into the habit of reading. 

Favourite day of the week? Sunday. No one is at work, I have two days off ahead of me. It was also my cinema day. 

Can you say the alphabet backwards? Probably not. 

How do you like your coffee? In someone else’s hand. I love the smell, though. 

Favourite pair of shoes? I just wear one pair of shoes. 

Time you normally get up? 5am workdays (Thursday 6am); off days I try to sleep in till 8am. 

Sunrises or sunsets? Sunrises. When I used to bike in there were some great ones. 

How many blankets are on your bed? Just the one. 

Describe your kitchen plates. Green, round, and chipped. 

Describe your kitchen at the moment. Fairly tidy. 

Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? I drink like a fifteen-year-old girl at a house party, but I do love a Smirnoff Ice. I don’t tend to drink a lot, though.

Do you play cards? Sure?

What colour is your car? Blue. 

Do you know how to change a tire? No. 

Your favourite state? California or Maine. 

Favourite job you’ve had? They have literally all sucked. Especially this one. 

How did you get your biggest scar? It’s a burn scar covering nearly half my forearm and most of my elbow. Pulled the wire of a kettle down on myself when I was in one of those baby walkers. I also have a scar on my head from when I was hit in the head by a cricket bat. 

#moi #meme

[nctinfo]

[TRANS] WayV’s interview with Leon Young July 2019 issue!

Their musical style changes frequently, sometimes extremely gentle and loving, sometimes explosive and fiery. The seven boys are like seven completely different gems, difficult to gather in the first place, and yet still able to radiate a unique and harmonious light, invoking surprise and curiosity.

KUN | Capricorn leader, full points for his leadership

Blood type: B Star sign: Capricorn Favourite food: Beef Favourite music genre: R&B I am Qian Kun, a treasure boy, waiting for you to unearth.

Qian Kun, who yearned for the skies since young, has a hobby for researching on planes, collecting model planes and also playing flying games. “I especially like to sit on the plane, every time we travel by plane I will take videos of the clouds in the skies through the small circular window.” Other than being a singer, Qian Kun’s biggest dream is to be a pilot. In WayV’s newest single <Dream Launch>’s MV, he could experience his “space obsession” —— traveling through space and time with the wormhole, and launching his dreams towards outer space.

As the leader, he can’t be this imaginative every day. In the team, all seven boys have distinctly different personalities, so collecting everyone’s different opinions, and bringing all the members closely together, will be impossible without impressive leadership capabilities. “Teamwork” is WayV’s team spirit, and Qian Kun is everyone’s “gege” that they admire and listen to.

Kun is very good at writing lyrics and composing, and when asked where his inspiration comes from, his words were quite shocking —— when he’s showering. “Often when I’m showering, a melody will suddenly appear in my head. I will then quickly rush out of the bathroom in a bathrobe and use the fastest speed to record the melody in my phone.”

Q: When did you realize you have a talent in music? A: When I was young, I would participate in the singing competition in our school every year, and would get first place every time.

Q: Who is your favourite singer? A: Jay Chou, I’ve liked listening to his songs since I was in the first year of primary school.

TEN | Be careful! The smiling eyes are electric

Blood type: A Star sign: Pisces Favourite food: Rice cake Favourite music genre: R&B I am TEN, born for the stage.

Born in Bangkok, TEN particularly loves Chinese traditional food.  His favourite is rice cake, soy bean milk, youtiao (fried dough), and lamb skewers. Every type of food brings him a different surprise, and makes him say “wow, this is good!” every bite he takes.

When TEN was studying Mandarin, the other members were available to be his personal “language teacher”, so he improved at an incredible speed. Other than that, TEN has his own study tips as well, which is to learn Mandarin via watching Chinese variety shows. His favourites are <Running Man>, <Our Brilliant Masters>, and <Back To Field>.

TEN’s explosive dancing is one of the highlights of a WayV stage. He looks very gentle when he smiles, but is shockingly powerful when he moves. TEN says that he mainly trains two aspects of dancing: the first is physical strength, the second is the details of the choreography. He spends at least an hour in the practice room every day doing push-ups and planking, amongst others, then practices specific dance moves after completing physical training. Because perfect movements must have good muscle control as a foundation.

Q: What is your favourite sport? A: Badminton.

Q: How have your parents supported you in your career? A: They respect my decisions very much, and let me freely do what I like to do.

WINWIN | Dancing elf, more charming the more you appreciate

Blood type: B Star sign: Scorpio Favourite food: Shrimp Favourite music genre: R&B I am WINWIN, a guy that gets more and more charming the more you look at me.

“I’m slightly introverted, but others in the team always bring me lots of joy, so I feel like I’ve been ‘opened’ by them.” Though WINWIN appears to be mysterious and cold, he’s actually very soft-hearted. His favourite thing to do is to watch movies, listen to songs, and chat with his fellow members in the dorm.

WayV has a tradition of watching a movie together in the dorms every week. They would discuss the plot after the movie and share their own thoughts and realizations. Additionally, they also regularly hold “meetings” to share their own worries with other members, while providing suggestions to others. WINWIN likes to turn off the lights and light some candles when this is going on, creating a relaxed atmosphere around everyone.

From the time he was a primary 5 student, WINWIN studied traditional Chinese dance. Years of dance background gave every move he makes a sense of calmness and elegance. Dance has a priceless meaning to WINWIN, “it is the basis of my everything, dance is what brought me here today.”

Q: Which song from the new album do you like the best? A: <Let me love u>, it’s a love song from us to the fans.

Q: Which of your facial features are you most satisfied with? A: Eyes. The outer corner of my eye tilts up slightly, and seem to have a classical beauty.

LUCAS | Clever and mischievous, imaginative and unrestricted.

Blood type: O Star sign: Aquarius Favourite food: Apples Favourite music genre: The quietest music and the most explosive music I am LUCAS, thank you to all the people who like me, you’re all really cute!

“Comparing before and after I joined WayV, the biggest change I made was learning how to take care of my younger brothers.” LUCAS says he used to always have the image of a “younger brother”, but after joining the team and facing members younger than he is, he naturally upgraded to become others’ “older brother”, and knew more about how to understand and help others.

At 183cm, LUCAS has a tall and straight figure. Coupled with big eyes that seem to be able to speak, his features make fans swoon. LUCAS, as someone who has lots of visuals and even more style, has been nicknamed a “walking poster”. When asked about his method of selecting and matching clothes, he has much to say, “we have to first understand our body before we can better match our clothes, and not just follow the trends.” He thinks colorful clothes can help add colour to the city, and if everyone can wear their own style, then the whole city will have a unique style to it.

Aquarian LUCAS always comes up with strange ideas, for example, he says that when he listens to music, he can not only hear the melody and rhythm of the song itself, but also the feelings of the composer and lyricist, and even how the drummer looks when they drum on the backing track. He also frequently lies down on the carpet to think about “the difficult questions in life”, like “the fans do so much for us, what should I do to let them feel our love too?” What is the answer? It is very simple, and also very pure - make even better music, which makes them happy after listening to it.

Q: What is your biggest wish lately? A: For WayV to hold their own concert, and interact with the fans with no distance between us.

Q: What would you like to remind the fans of? A: Eat more fruits, you can absorb many natural vitamins, which is more effective and healthier than taking vitamin tablets!

XIAOJUN | Honey voice, difficult to forget

Blood type: B Star sign: Leo Favourite food: Sour candy Favourite music genre: Ballad I want to be magic, I want to be bigger than I am.

“Take Off” is XIAOJUN’s favourite from the new album, “Even if I have no wings, I still want to fly, courage is needed to face your dreams. This is similar to my current state of mind.”XIAOJUN’s voice is not one to be easily forgotten, it’s crisp and hoarse, yet soft and dense; it’s fine, and gentle - he’s referred to by the fans as “honey voiced”.

XIAOJUN has been obsessed with music ever since he was a child, and usually likes to quietly practice singing by himself. Even though he is now a member of an idol group, and has to frequently face many busy announcements and tough rehearsals, he still persists in at least three hours of vocal practice every day. How does he protect his “honey vocals”, then? XIAOJUN has his own good practices, of course. “I drink a glass of honey water when I get up every morning, this can reduce heatiness, and moisten the throat.

”Though skilled, XIAOJUN admits that he is very nervous before meeting fans. Not long ago, WayV participated in Hunan Television’s “Happy Together”. When shooting the episode, many WayV fans went to the location of the shoot to support them. “Even though I look calm and collected, my heart is beating wildly. But on that day, the moment the curtains opened, I saw many fans holding boards with our names on them, heard them screaming and shouting our names, and only then did I really calm down.”

As someone who newly debuted, XIAOJUN thinks that luck was most important in him becoming a member of WayV, and that it was intended by the heavens. But he still wants to tell the juniors who carry their dreams and want to debut that, “you cannot lack in luck, but behind luck, you have to have an extraordinary amount of hard work. Luck will only find you when you transform your talents into skills.”

Q: Your eyelashes are long and curled, what’s your secret? A: Actually, you don’t have to take extra care, just use warm water to clean everyday, and don’t rub roughly when you wash your face.

Q: Amongst life’s sourness, sweetness, bitterness, spiciness, and saltiness, which is your favourite flavour? A: Sourness, it gives the tastebuds a curious feeling.

HENDERY | Curious BOY, always “unlocking” new skills

Blood type: O Star sign: Libra Favourite food: Chicken feet with fermented black soy bean paste Favourite music genre: Hippop I am HENDERY, who likes the colour pink.

HENDERY has a new wish recently, and that is to learn to play the jazz drums. He’s roommates with TEN. One night, he unknowingly started to play a beat as TEN sat on his bed and played the guitar. So TEN told him, “you can learn to play the drums, then we can perform together.” This sentence ignited a small flame in HENDERY’s heart, so he resolved to learn to play the jazz drums and was unstoppable afterward. He would go online to watch tutorials on jazz drums when he was free, and frequently forgets to eat because he was so absorbed.

HENDERY always likes to try new things. For example, before joining WayV, he didn’t frequently have hotpot, but was influenced by everyone and loves hotpot like no other now! Whether Hong Kong-style, Sichuan-style, or Chongqing-style, if it’s hotpot, he likes it! “If we have time, we go out to have hotpot twice a week! And it’s seven of us together every time!”

Looking back at his biggest change since debut, HENDERY thinks that his stage experience has become more diverse. He used to focus on the training itself but rarely paid attention to showcasing on stage. However, recently, he frequently finds and watches past performances by the group to re-assess himself on stage from a fan’s perspective. For example, when watching these videos, he would find that at one beat where he focused on a body angle, the camera was focusing on facial expressions instead - amongst his replays, HENDERY keeps working hard to find the best feeling on stage.

Q: The fans call you “Disney prince”, what do you think about that? A: Thank you all~ But I don’t want to be just a “prince”, I would instead like to showcase different sides of myself in songs.

Q: What do you hope for WayV’s future? A: I hope more people listen to our music, watch our dancing, that’s all.

YANGYANG | The most doted on by the group, the maknae is very busy

Blood type: O Star sign: Libra Favourite food: Hotpot Favourite music genre: melody RAP I am YANGYANG, easy-going offstage, perfectionist onstage, this is my “duality”.

As the “maknae” of the team, YANGYANG is the recepient of much love, and is always taken care of by the other members. “Uh…I am indeed a little mischievous sometimes, like when I purposely wake others when they sleep, but they never get angry at me.” WayV haven’t debuted for long, but they have completely become family from brothers, always looking out for one another. For example, when everybody goes out to eat, they would always ask the youngest brother what he wanted to have, then everybody would go according to what he liked.

The fans’ warm-hearted actions frequently touch YANGYANG deeply. Sometimes, when a new song has just been released, the fans still sing the song with them word for word at live performances. “They must have listened to it many, many times, this makes me feel really warm.”

<Say It> from the new album makes YANGYANG particularly excited, as it is the work of renowned band London Noise. YANGYANG has been a huge fan of London Noise since he was a child, and this time, he was able to sing what his idols made for him, so it’s a dream come true!

Q: Other than music, what is your biggest interest? A: I love car racing, my dad and I would go go-karting every weekend when I was little, I really like the feeling of a competition.

Q: Why is it that you can maintain a perfect body while loving to eat hotpot? A: Sorry, I just can’t gain weight, haha. But I usually workout to maintain my strength too.

Translation: Jess, Seol @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: Leon Young — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

#NCT #wayv #kun #ten #winwin #lucas #hendery #xiaojun #yangyang #t:interview #t:trans #Leon Young #Leon Young: July 2019

[fineillsignup]

“#Challenge” (Sakura and Rock Lee brotp gen) - Shinobi Summerfest 2019

@keepyourpantsongohan! You are my giftee for @shinobisummerfest and you requested (among other possibilities) fluff/humour, any member of team 7, and the keyword “green”! And that of course made me think of the beautiful Eternal Rivalry 2.0 between Sakura and Rock Lee. I hope you enjoy this fic, which is also available on AO3 in my Sakura & Lee Eternal Rivals one-shot collection!

———

“Sakura-san!!!”

Only Lee could speak at a regular volume and yet she could still hear the multiple exclamation points in his tone. Still, Sakura smiled. She was just about done harvesting the sanshou husks anyway. “Hi, Lee! Nice weather, isn’t it?”

“Alas, I have hardly been able to enjoy it! I have been outside for my daily thousand laps around Konoha only.” He took a deep breath of the cool, crisp autumn air, and brightened a little. “Indeed, you are right Sakura-san! This pleasant chill calls out for hot-blooded exertion! We can bring summer to life no matter what the weather!”

“Maybe I’ll join you for another hundred laps, then, when I’m done here,” said Sakura, picking another berry off the plant. “What’s been keeping you inside, mission reports?”

Lee suddenly looked stricken again. “No! Konohamaru-kun has been most kindly teaching Guy-sensei and I how to use the computer! It is most kind of him, because now Guy-sensei will be easily able to record down all his wisdom for students of taijutsu across the world, and even generations yet to come to be able to benefit from it!”

“Oh? That really is great!” said Sakura. “Shizune’s been digitizing her poisons compendium and it really does make searching it easier. Is Guy-sensei enjoying it?”

“Well, he is, but so far he has not been able to get the ‘hits’. I am not quite sure about what the ‘hits’ are, but apparently you get them when people read and watch your content. So I have been trying to come up with ways to help his wonderful work attract attention! But alas! Nothing I have done is sufficient! We cannot get the hits, Sakura-san!” His large eyebrows knit together as his lip trembled.

Sakura hurriedly grabbed a few more berries and then called it a day. “That really does sound like a challenge, Lee. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“A challenge!” Lee’s melancholy was swept off of him in an instant. “You are so right as always, Sakura-san! Of course! It’s a challenge! A good challenge is never easy, is it? I will not give up! I will get the hits for Guy-sensei! That means I need to train more!”

Sakura tied her hair up. “First to a hundred laps, then? Loser buys me dango.”

Lee chortled. “Ohohoho! Your youthful confidence inspires me, my eternal rival! I will buy you dango even when I win!”

“Ready… steady… go!”

A red-pink streak and green-black blur shot forward and were almost instantly out of sight.

(this art was previously made for this series by @corgi-ears and is used with permission)

 ———

“Sakura-san!!!”

Sakura nearly flipped over the entire table at the curry restaurant where she was almost finished her curry udon. “Lee! How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that!”

“I am most sincerely sorry! But when I saw you it was like the answer to my dreams!” Lee clutched at his chest. “My youthful spirit is flagging! I require your spirit, like a spring breeze, to revive my purpose!”

Sakura blinked at him. “Maybe you should eat some curry. I think that will be more helpful than a spring breeze.”

Lee clapped his hands, then flagged down a waiter to order a katsu-don. “You see how your practicality already assists me. You have your finger on the pulse of youth!”

“Actually, let me take your pulse, Lee,” Sakura said with a worried frown. “You don’t look so good.”

“Ahahahahaha,” chortled Lee as she put her fingers over his wrist, “well, you see, I haven’t eaten. Or slept.”

“For how long?!” Sakura demanded.

Lee’s big round eyes were twitching around in his head. “In the heat of my passion, one day is no different than another!”

“Lee,” Sakura said reprovingly.

“I need the hits, Sakura!” he pleaded. “I cannot rest until I get Guy-sensei the hits!”

“You are going to eat your curry, and then I am going to take you home, where you are going to get rest. You know, inspiration can strike in dreams, sometimes!”

“That is true…” Lee brooded, drumming his fingers on the table. “That is very true.”

Lee ended up nearly falling asleep in his curry. Sakura sighed, fished in his pockets to get enough money to pay for his share (since she only had enough for her own), then hoisted him unceremoniously over her shoulder and across the village to his apartment.

———

“Sakura—oh, hello Naruto-kun. Sakura-san! I have come up with an idea! It struck me in my dreams, just as you predicted! That was very cool of you, you know.”

Sakura was reattaching Naruto’s prosthetic pinky. “That’s great, Lee!”

“Can’t this go any faster, Sakura-chan?” whined Naruto. “I was only in such a hurry in the first place because I heard old man Teuchi is debuting a new flavour of ramen today! It’s the first time he’s debuted a new flavour in over a decade! I gotta get a bowl before it sells out dattebayo!”

“Haven’t you ever heard of the saying haste makes waste?” Sakura said, stitching the prosthetic back together with what seemed to Naruto to be deliberate slowness. “Let this be a lesson to you not to try to close a window when your hand is still right under it. You’re only lucky this was your prosthetic hand!”

“But Sakura-san, indeed, if you could finish it quickly I would be most grateful! You see, we have to spread the virus!” Lee said.

Sakura paused with the needle mid-stitch.

“Don’t distract her, Caterpillar Brows!” griped Naruto.

“Spread what virus?” said Sakura. The needle still didn’t move. “Lee, are you sick?”

“No, no, spread the virus on the computer! To get the hits!” Lee said.

Sakura relaxed, and to Naruto’s relief, resumed reattaching the finger. “Oh! You mean we need to go viral, I think. Well, it’s easier said than done.”

“But I have heard the viruses are about challenges! Sakura-san! Surely no one is better at challenges than you and I!”

“Heh! Yeah! Sakura-chan could do a bottle cap challenge in her sleep, probably,” said Naruto, flexing his hand now that Sakura had finished reattaching the pinky. “She could probably make the caps explode off every bottle in the convenience store if she wanted to!”

“Bottle cap challenge?” asked Sakura.

“You do a spin-kick—” Naruto tried to demonstrate, and Sakura caught his foot with one hand, making him flail. “Sakura-chan! I’m trying to show you!”

“This is a hospital, idiot Naruto!”

“Well you do a spin-kick,” Naruto pouted, tugging his foot free with some difficulty, “and you make the cap of the bottle come off without knocking over the bottle!”

“Oh! Precision, huh? That actually does sound fun. Yeah, Lee and I could both do that easily. Will that really make us go viral, though?” Sakura pointed out. “I mean, you have to take it to the next level from what people are already doing, right?”

“Of course! You and I must not limit ourselves to a single challenge, after all, we are eternal rivals…” Lee trailed off. “That’s it! That’s the answer, Sakura-san!!!!”

Though she was bewildered, Sakura patted Lee arm affectionately as he twirled her around the clinic room.

“Hey! How come he gets to do that kind of thing and I don’t? It’s not fair -ttebayo,” grumbled Naruto.

———

Tsunade hit play on the video.

A montage of Sakura and Lee smashing their heads through brick walls began to play.

She hit pause, switched to another tab, and hit play again.

This time Sakura shouted at the camera, “Water running! Taijutsu only! Go!” and Lee took off across the water.

“Children might drown trying to do this,” Tsunade said severely, then clicked to the next tab. “But that isn’t the worst thing I’ve seen from you two. Oh no. I saved the very worst for last.”

The camera was struggling to focus in the smoky and dimly lit interior of Konoha’s best, and indeed only, izakaya.

“B-bottle cap challenge?” Lee was slurring. “There’s no challenge I won’t take! No path I won’t walk! No mountain I won’t—hic—climb! No c-curry I won’t eat! No tracksuit I won’t wear! No squirrel I won’t pet! No… no… where was I going with this, Tenten?”

“The bottle cap challenge,” Tenten, from behind the camera, prompted.

“R-right, bottle caps! You challenged me, you metallic… you metallic… butts!” Lee swore in his strongest possible words at the bottle caps.

“Yeah! Tell ‘em!” Sakura, who had been face down on the table, suddenly jerked her head up, revealing cheeks as pink as her hair. “Is it time? We’re gonna kick their butts, Lee?”

“Let’s go! For youuuuth!”

After that, what was happening in front of the camera became very difficult to follow indeed. There was screaming, shouting, the sounds of broken glass, Lee and Sakura shouting numbers back and forth at each other. Tsunade hit pause and scrolled down slightly to reveal the text beneath.

#EternalRivalChallenge

Tag the person YOU want to see become YOUR eternal rival in the comments!

Views: 7,390,830 Likes: 790k

“Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?” Tsunade demanded.

“I’m so very sorry shishou,” Sakura began, head hung low. “I know we were encouraging irresponsible drinking—”

“Not that nonsense,” Tsunade interrupted crossly. “Do you know what you’ve done to the sake supply in this village? Do you know the depths to which I had to debase myself, begging Shimura-san, the izakaya owner, not to leave town? Do you know how hard it is to get a bar to stay open in a ninja village?!”

Lee and Sakura looked at each other and shook their heads.

“I’m docking both of your mission pay by 20% until the damage to Shimura-san is paid back,” Tsunade said severely, “and I want you to consider that you have gotten off very lightly, and only because the ninja academy has seen its enrolment applications for the taijutsu program more than triple since you posted these videos. But you two are on notice. No more sake challenges!”

“Yes, Hokage-sama,” they both said.

“Good,” said Tsunade, “dismissed.”

The two fled out the window before Tsunade could change her mind about the lightness of their punishment.

Tsunade pulled a sake bottle out of her drawer, and went to open it, paused, put it on her desk, eyed it for a moment, and then spun the cap off with one well-aimed kick of her kitten heel.

“Still got it,” she murmured, pleased, and took a swig.

#shinobisummerfest2019 #rock lee #sakura haruno #my fanfic #eternal rivals #brotp #gen fic #naruto #i feel more youthful already #alcohol

[chameleonsallinvermillion]

So I bought groceries today...

And it went a little something like this.

The roads were empty. Hardly anyone was about. I bowled along with music blaring. It seemed like a movie scene. The carpark, though, was crowded. The queue snaked back out of the door and all the way down the side of the building, out of the entrance and up towards the roundabout. You have to walk all the way back along it to reach the part where you get to stand. It feels somehow executionary.

All the same, the queue was a nice place to be. The sun was beaming down and there was a festival air, a pageantry to the whole proceedings. It was as if we were lining up for a fairground attraction. Everybody was in a good mood, perched on walls, shouting to one another over the mandated distance of one adult bull seal.

I was perhaps half an hour in that queue. We edged our slow way along. A woman got a notification on her phone that Boris had the virus and shouted it out to a ragged chorus of cheers. The couple three down from me kissed in a truly unnecessary display of physical intimacy in these times of distance – how dare they have somebody safe with whom to share their germs? It seems dreamlike already.

Once you near the entrance, the line becomes formalised. Barriers and partitions are set up. Duct tape crosses mark where you are allowed to stand. Security guards in vests and helmets give directions. Every time somebody leaves, with a laden trolley or a thousand bags, somebody else has permission to enter. We inch ever closer.

At last, the old guard gives me the nod and in I go. The foyer is stacked floor to ceiling with bread. We are walled with bread. Thankfully, bread is on the list so I snatch the first loaf I come to and hurry through into the air-conditioned splendour of a surprisingly peaceful shop.

Nobody is talking – everybody came alone, one person per list. Everybody is focused. The reduced numbers make it almost pleasant, for a little while. I fill my bags with celery and grapes. The thing we have in abundance is fresh fruit and vegetables. I suppose the supply chains of those were already set up. It’s the things they don’t get regular deliveries of that are in trouble.

Things got more complicated with the list. By standing on tiptoe and some serious rummaging, I was able to snag the last two tins of tomato soup. Dedicated detective work won me a pot of custard. The intervention of a kindly gentleman found me curry sauce. He was a marvellous chap, on a state-of-the-art mobility scooter with his lop-eared service dog riding high on the prow like the figurehead of a ship.

Ribena was a no-go. Soft drinks are in short supply and rationing is enforced. There were only a couple of baked bean tins left and I snagged those as well – you’re allowed three maximum, well, there were two on the shelf so I took them. The pasta shelves are empty and only the weird speciality rice is left. The biscuits show clearly the nation’s preferences: no bourbons to be found, but you’re in luck if you favour off-brand Nice. Sauces are in short supply. So are chutneys. Indian food is rationed in the international section; there has been sudden demand.

When you get to the frozen aisle, everything is empty. The great bins that are usually stuffed with bags and boxes lie fallow. A few oven chips huddle together in a cabinet. There’s a decent amount of ice cream. Still, that bids farewell to our dear neighbours’ dreams of frozen peas.

The bags are getting so heavy the handles are in danger of breaking off. Pop hits from the early 90s ring through over the sound of tramping feet and the rustle of a thousand packages. The walkie-talkies of the staff crackle. I hunt down crisps, porridge oats, halved walnuts. It’s strange but the seasonal displays are still up, with their offers and their stacks of cakes and Easter eggs. It seems like something from another land. The Pope has cancelled Easter.

Only four tills are open. The queues stretch back down the aisles. If you want anything from an aisle people are queuing in, your only option is to join the line and hope you end up standing next to it eventually. I settle for the line that runs down the laundry aisle. We’re in for a long wait.

The minutes tick by. I glance behind. I am now in the middle of the line, but I have only moved three paces forward. The washing powder so dearly prized is far off in the future. The radio plays something from the 70s.

Twenty minutes now and I’m securely inside the aisle, but still a long way from washing powders. I stare at the fabric conditioners and wonder about their flavours. Lychee and raspberry seems an odd choice but what do I know about lychees? I realise, all at once, that I know nothing about lychees. Have I even seen a lychee? I feel as though I have eaten one but I cannot summon it to mind. The bags are so heavy now. I place one on the floor and flex my fingers. They are purple and bruised, and will not straighten.

Forty minutes in and I start to sway. The washing powders are so close now but I cannot see them clearly, only the edge of one box. I cannot tell if the kind demanded are even there. I had forgotten my low blood pressure – it’s so much better these days, it’s been years since I’ve stood still long enough to feel the danger. I might faint at any moment.

I wonder if that would make the news. Would somebody write a report about the poor young woman who fainted waiting in line to buy soup? Would they sensationalise it, and I would be forced to issue a statement saying that I’m just really bad at standing upright and everybody should calm down? To be on the safe side, I start to shuffle my feet the way Rob-from-Band taught me all those years ago. I perform a little two-step there in line to the tune of the Spice Girls. The woman in front of me glares at me. She thinks I’m being impatient. The old man behind me nods and smiles sympathetically.

“Not long now,” he says.

He is wrong.

One hour in the line and paradise is unlocked. The box sits there, undisturbed. Washing powder! Washing powder to bring home! It is rationed, but that is no matter. I will take all I can lay my greedy hands upon. I will stuff the remaining space in my bags with blue boxes. The prize, so long sought, is mine at last!

One hour and five minutes into queuing, somebody tries to start a line at the next till. They haven’t realised, you see, that our line divides between two. They are politely informed of the situation and advised to join the rear of the queue, now apparently snaking half-way round the shop despite the one-in-one-out rule at the door. The woman throws up her hands and screams.

“We’re all in the same boat,” choruses the line, in dull unison.

I speak with them. I am them. These people and I are one.

The woman yells but she submits, dragging herself down to the far end to begin her own long quest for salvation. We creep ever closer. I can see the tills now, watch the red lights blink as they fail again and again, for some reason overwhelmed. I watch the face of the attendant. She is so beautiful. She is so dead behind those lovely eyes.

One hour and ten minutes. Somebody tries to start a line at the other till.

“Same boat,” we chant, our eyes blank, our hearts as heavy as our shopping bags. “Same boat.”

At last, the queue creeps again. All at once, I stand alone on the brink. Dusty linoleum stretches out ahead of me and there, unreachable, on the other side of the imaginary bull seal, is the till itself. The woman ahead of me starts to unload her trolley. I never knew they made trolleys that big. Things keep on emerging, like a conjurer’s trick.

One hour and twenty-five minutes since I joined the queue. The attendant approaches me and gestures, from a safe distance, to the now-emptied till. I rush, as if anybody would dare to take it from me. I feel I should hurry for the sake of those behind but my limbs refuse. The deadened pace of the last hour has changed me. I am an automaton; I move at one speed only.

The machine bleeps its terrible bleep. I empty the bags to fill them again. I stack tins at the base, top off with grapes. The machine fails. The attendant rushes to rescue me. I nearly weep as I thank her. She, such is the day, does not seem alarmed. She merely nods, a nod of solidarity, of two women stuck in purgatory.

But I have seen the light. The bags fill. I do not see the price as I flail with my debit card. It is plastic, just plastic. I could break it in my hand. It will give me these items I fought for. How does it do that? I no longer know.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” says the machine.

“Thank you,” I tell it.

Do I mean it? Who can say?

Some lucky soul rushes to take my place. I gather up my bags. I do not feel the pain now. My fingers are raw. I feel nothing. I make my way down the long corridor, past the rows of locked tills and unstocked shelves. The doors are ahead. They swoosh, so quiet, to expel me into the foyer of bread. The security guard turns to look at me. He is still here, then, the man who bade me enter. His gaze is a lifeline. I hold it. To drop it would be to fail, to be sucked back inside, to never escape. I am Orpheus. I must not look round.

The portal is passed. I step out onto concrete, into the fierce rush of petrol fumes and sunlight. He nods, and breaks our gaze. The line moves on, the next couple setting out to begin what I have just endured. The line is so long now, so much longer than it was. It does not matter. I am free. I am born anew.

I walk to my car. I left it centuries ago. The music starts where I left off. This is a different world. The sun is so bright. There are children playing in the carpark, running between the cars, ducking down, laughing. They are waiting. Somebody who loves them is buying bread. They are innocent. They are not tainted as we have been tainted.

I am no longer tainted. I am purified. The engine hiccups into life. I drive slowly out. The roadway is lined with people waiting to enter. The pageantry is still there, the festival, the sunlight. They seem to crowd around my windows. The music plays. I know now how Kennedy felt, that day in Dallas, when the crowds cheered his name.

#quarantine #it's been a day

[sun-summoning]

harukaozawa replied to your post “if you ever wonder where the hell i am, the answer is i am out living...”

Would definitely be interested in any fave recipes you have to share

OKAY THIS MAKES ME REALLY HAPPY :D

when i make anything with choux pastry i use this recipe. at first i would make eclairs bc they’re arguably prettier and seem fancier, but i prefer making cream puffs instead. rather than having an ugly crooked eclair, you get a cute little dollop!! and i’ll just use a star tip when piping to give it ~texture~ and add just a little bit to it. also it freezes very well after baked. i usually have a bag of pre-baked puffs in the freezer. when i need them, i just stick them in the oven for a few minutes so they can crisp up and then voila.

also this is going to sound douchey and i swear i’m not a snob, but i really do recommend mixing the eggs into your choux pastry by hand. and if you need a bit more egg than what your recipe calls for, then add it slowly. the recipe i use calls for four but sometimes the eggs are small or maybe i dried the flour clump out too much on the stove idk. but i’ve learned to just trust my instincts (obvs these must be developed) and drizzle in a bit more egg when necessary. and then if you have a bit of egg left over, you can egg wash (i never do that lol) or if you’re like me, eat scrambled eggs for dinner.

now for my pastry cream, i started off with this recipe. as a standard vanilla cream, it’s lovely! ngl i picked it bc it had the least amount of egg yolks required. some require like five yolks and that’s just too many egg white omelettes for dinner for me. 

anyway, i’ve since started playing around with that recipe as a base to make different flavours by infusing the milk at the beginning. when i want to make earl grey, i add maybe like three tea bags and let that sit when the milk is coming to a boil.

and then over the holidays, i was making peppermint bark but then my dumbass seized the freakin chocolate so i ended up with a clump of hard gritty minty chocolate. there’s not much to do with seized chocolate lol, but you can add it into something where it’ll be 100% melted. so in this case i added it to the milk!! um i added prob like 1/2 a cup of it and it made the cream a bit thicker. not that i’m complaining. but just saying.

i seized some chocolate like last weekend bc apparently i cannot do something as simple as melt chocolate. i’d like to try using that to make maybe a mocha filling? so i’ll just melt the chocolate when the milk is coming to a boiler with some instant coffee. 

i’ve been asked to bake earl grey cream puffs for my friend’s wedding. i was thinking of giving her a few flavours, one of which might be ube. one of my coworkers has already insisted on being my taste testers. my mom suggested using ube jam, but i think that might be a bit too strong, so i might make a basic pastry cream (sans the vanilla or maybe with just a dash?) and then mix the jam into that. idk i need to test this. fortunately the wedding is still in june. 

OKAY THAT WAS A LOT OF PARAGRAPHS ON CHOUX PASTRY.

these brown butter chocolate chip toffee cookies are delicious. i never have flaky sea salt on hand. also i’ve never made an effort to find it. i have shamelessly just used coarse. 

this is the almond biscotti recipe i’ve been using. i’m still trying to get all the bake times down properly. man do not cut the biscotti without a hefty first bake. it’s just a mess if the cookie is still too soft. i’m a dumbass. but i learned my lesson!

i like this macaron recipe bc it’s fairly foolproof and if anyone has ever made macarons before.....yeah. my first time was good. my second time they were chocolate and just ended up looking like little swirls of shit lol. they tasted good though!! but yeah i find with that recipe the cookies are always nice and chewy. i also find that they don’t really crack. rather, they stay true to the form that they went into the oven with. i’ve upped my egg white to about 75g, but i do want to see if adding some more will changed how it all turns out. 

ok so my mom loves cheese tarts and i love my mom for her birthday last year i got her half a dozen (that’s generally how they’re sold) from three different places and we kind of ranked them to pick our fave. love you uncle tetsu but i’m still sad that you closed your matcha store i loved those matcha madeleines so much. anyway, i made these tarts for the fam and everyone seemed to like it. i did find the filling to have a bit of a grainy texture. still delicious though. tbh i haven’t tried recreating them yet. my friends gave me a set of mini tart pans for christmas though so i’ll try again soon.

and madeleines!! ok plains ones are nice, but frankly i find them kind of lacking. my personal favourites are ones that have a good hint of lemon and some icing sugar dusted on top. i haven’t made them in a while, but i definitely have a phase. if you ever want to and you need to buy pans, i recommend not giving into the temptation of buying the baby sized ones where the madeleines are like the size of your thumb (prob smaller). they’re great, don’t get me wrong, but the i think the full sized ones are way better. also since they’re virtually little cakes, i have shamelessly put the mix into a greased muffin pan or tart pan lol. i ran out of space in my madeleines trays and wasn’t going to go through a second round of baking. my utilities yo.

and these chocolate cookies. a very simple recipe but somehow everyone i’ve ever fed them to absolutely loves them. they’re like brownies. also i’m a lazy fuck and will not be bothered with rolling out the dough and making shapes. i literally just make little balls, press my thumb into them, and then move on. and if i feel like making them pretty, i melt some chocolate, dip the cookies in that, then dip them in sprinkles.

AND TRES LECHES. i fucking LOVE tres leches cake. ok i don’t remember what recipe i use, but i want you to know i love it.

alright that’s all for now. if you made it to the end of this post, congratulations. 

#harukaozawa

[araliyaintheskywithdiamonds]

Of Murderers and Misdemeanours - A CrissColfer Fic

Summary: Ugh, I can’t make a summary without spoiling the fic. However, I can guarantee fluff, fluff, fluff. And taking advantage of Chris’ hatred for horror movies. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Darren Criss or Chris Colfer. Obviously. 

Word Count: 1038 AO3

(*Set late 2010, early 2011)

Chris wakes to the very clear and very terrifying sound of someone in his kitchen. He’s a light sleeper, his apartment is small enough that sound carries easily, and right now, Chris can without a doubt, hear someone sliding a drawer open.

Knives, is his immediate thought. I’m going to be murdered by my own cutlery.

He wills himself to swing his legs out of bed, heart beating traitorously loud. At that very moment Brian makes an indignant yelp, having been unceremoniously shunted from his cocoon. Chris freezes. If he could hear a drawer slide open just one room away, he’s completely certain the intruder has just heard his damn cat.

You’re an adult now, Chris reminds himself, shaking the blood back into his limbs. If you’re not going to save yourself, no one else will.

He looks around for a weapon, a roll of newspaper, anything, and his eyes fall on the spindly black lamp on his bedside table. It had been a Christmas gift from some aunt or another, and he hadn’t the heart to tell her he thought it looked like a severed spider’s leg.

Grabbing it, Chris is suddenly grateful to her- it makes for a menacing weapon.

Ignoring the pounding in his ears, Chris tiptoes out, brandishing the lamp like a damsel in a dressing gown, futilely wielding a flimsy broomstick against the bad man who will inevitably kill her and stuff her in a closet.

Brian slithers past his ankles and out of the door. It’s this that makes Chris finally put an end to the stream of worst-case scenarios running through his head, and actually move his feet- to protect the cat that blew his cover in the first place. After all, don’t serial killers love to brutally murder the defenceless pets before they move onto their real prey?

Chris swallows his building nausea and ventures out, lamp held in front of him like a shield. He fumbles blindly for the light switch in the hallway- things are seeming more and more like a horror film where the stupid white person dies within the first three minutes- and the room is filled with bright white light.

Chris braces himself for an impact, for an axe murderer, for his first glimpse of a poltergeist with a fondness for cookery, and there’s-

Nothing.

Instead, Darren stands at the counter, hand on hip and wooden spoon in mouth, his previously bright smile fading into amused mystification.

Pancakes- fucking pancakes- fry innocently on the stove.

The feeling is so incredibly underwhelming and so utterly infuriating that Chris doesn’t drop the lamp but runs at Darren instead, waving it above his head like a deranged viking.

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Chris cries, and Darren yelps, holding his arms above his head and cowering into the kitchen island. Chris thinks he can hear the awful man laughing. He’s about to give him a piece of his mind when he realises that while the lamp may be ugly, it’s still metal, and he doesn’t hate Darren that much. His face is far too pretty for that.

Chris settles for shoving the lamp aside, grabbing him by the shirt, and shaking him- a lot. Darren stands there the entire time, silent tears of laughter streaming down his face.

Eventually, Chris stops, chest heaving with effort. Relief fills his body like floodwaters, and inexplicably, he sags into Darren, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding on tight. Darren holds him back, still laughing, and now probably just a little bit concerned, what with the way Chris is trembling.

He rubs Chris’ back gently, and for once he’s glad that Darren isn’t the type to do the awkward pat thing- he’s far too tactile and generous with comfort for that. There’s a low and careful murmur by his ear:

“Hey, you okay?”

Chris pulls himself out of Darren’s arms in a desperate attempt to maintain some sort of dignity. “I’m fine now,” he says roughly, feeling uncomfortable under the all-exposing lights. Chris lifts his eyes to glare at Darren. “But five minutes ago I was pretty certain I was going to be killed.”

Darren places his hands on Chris’ arms, rubbing up and down to get rid of the goosebumps. To his credit, he doesn’t laugh. “Why?”

Chris huffs. “I don’t know, why else would there be someone in my kitchen at three o'clock in the morning?”

“I was making pancakes.”

“I didn’t know that when I was hyperventilating in my room alone.”

“You gave me a key.”

“Yes,” Chris agrees exasperatedly, trying to dispel the blush in his cheeks at the memory of that exchange, “but it’s three in the morning.”

“I was lonely,” says Darren simply. His thumbs swipe patterns on Chris’ skin. “And you like my pancakes.”

Chris softens, just a little bit. “I guess so,” he says, looking over at the neat stack on the counter. The poor pancake Darren had been cooking, however, is burned to a dejected crisp. “We might need to throw that one out though.”

A tendril of smoke starts to billow out of it, and Darren laughs. “I think we might.”

***

“I’m sorry I scared you,” says Darren quietly. They’re wrapped up on the sofa, eating pancakes with sticky fingers, staring at the black TV screen. Chris tucks his toes under Darren’s thighs to warm them up.

“That’s okay.”

“No, really,” Darren insists. “I didn't mean to. I just assumed you’d be up since you have a weird sleeping schedule and all that.”

“I have to be up at seven most days, Dare.”

Darren, if anything, looks even more guilty. Chris sets aside his plate and crawls up to meet him. He leans over for a soft, syrup-flavoured kiss.

“It’s okay,” he repeats. “I do like your pancakes. If you promise to make them whenever I ask, I’ll let you come over every night.”

Darren grins. “You say that like there’s nothing ever in it for you.”

“Oh, is there?” Chris asks, quirking an eyebrow. “I didn’t know…”

Darren’s eyes flicker down once more to Chris’ lips. “I can show you.”

A flush rises up to his cheeks. Darren sticks to his word, and Chris is shown very, very well.

#CrissColfer #crisscolfer fanfic #fluff fluff fluff

[bhyunni]

Getting to know BAMBAMS-A-BABE I guess

NAME-

Chrisstyle (Chrissy)

BIRTHDAY-

July 12, 2003 think??

Tbh I don’t even know lmaooo, went from the 12th, to the 7th, to the 4th, to the 14th, and then back to the 12th y’all

RELATIONSHIP STATUS-

Single, but I’ve got friends and fam to keep me satisfied!!

PIERCINGS I HAVE-

One piecing on each lobe, but I want a second pair on the lobe as well,,

THE MEANING BEHIND MY USERNAME-

BamBam is a B A B E. My babe tho.

Like, I love him!! I also wanted my username to be Baekhyuns-A-Babe because I love him, too, so I just made a side-blog that I don’t use called strawberry-baekgels because at the time, I’d been eating bagels with strawberry cream cheese.

GROUPS I STAN (and listen to)-

BTS • GOT7 • EXO+CBX • DAY6 • PLT

NCT 127 • The Rose • Monsta X

FANXY CHILD • SF9 • SNUPER

Stray Kids • Pentagon • B.A.P

Seventeen • iKon • MOBB • JBJ • KNK

FAVOURITE MOVIE-

I’m boutta’ add a bunch because there simply cannot be one.

Moana • Coco • Bambi • Balto • Bolt

Fox and the Hound • 101 Dalmatians

To Kill a Mockingbird

I love Disney y’all, like,,

It’s gREAT, and it makes me cry.

A FACT ABOUT MY PERSONALITY-

I used to be extremely quiet, and still am when I’m not around friends or fam because I’m super shy, but super chill. Very optimistic! I’m almost always in a good mood, and even when I’m not in a good mood, I’m patient and slow to anger, though some things do annoy me. I’d say that I’m super caring, and I try to be friendly as possible and equal to everyone I come in contact with. Like, one of my friends classified me as the “Mom friend” LMAO. I worry about everyone, and can get a little paranoid about losing them?? or that they think that I don’t care about them because I’m a sarcastic person and sometimes people can’t tell when I’m joking or when I’m being serious. Another thing about my personality is that I get so caught it in helping others, and worry about others that sometimes I forget that I need to take care of myself, and sometimes my optimism blinds me from doing that.

Oops, popped off there! I think I did factS instead of A fact.

WHAT I HATE MOST ABOUT MYSELF-

I don’t like asking for help because it makes me feel like a bother to others, so I suffer in silence most of the time unless somebody straight up asks me.

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT MYSELF-

Everything else. Gotta have those good vibes amirite?

IDEA OF THE PERFECT DATE-

Picnic under the stars on a cool night • A walk on a chilly, Autumn afternoon and our hands are intertwined because my hands get cold fast and I love a good handwarmer- and we just enjoy the scenery and crisp air

WEAKNESS-

Being yelled at, and feeling like a disappointed to those I care about.

BIGGEST TURN ON-

•Someone that can surpass or find a way around my way of thinking, 😩👌

RANDOM FACT I KNOW-

There are turtles that breathe through their butts.

LAST TIME I CRIED AND WHY-

Today I was watching the BTS theory videos, and I was watching the one about Spring Day and the Omela’s Theory, like bROo that stuff is deep. When I think about it I start tearing up again so lemme stop.

FAVORITE FOOD-

French fries never get old, there are so many kinds. How did we ever become so blessed??

CHINESE ZODIAC SIGN-

A SHEEP LMAOO, YIXING WHERE YOU AT BOI. BE CAREFUL SHEEP IN THE NEIGBOURHOOD 🐑🐑🐑

FAVOURITE SEASON-

Autumn hands down.

HOW LONG I TAKE TO GET READY-

Depends on the occasion. I can take a minute or two, to thirty.

SOMEWHERE I WANT TO VISIT-

Tokyo, Switzerland, New York, South Korea and/or Australia

OTHER LANGUAGES I SPEAK-

Learning Spanish. I can write it, and understand it, but cannot speak fluently or it’ll take me a year to come up with a sentence.

THE COLOUR OF MY EYES-

Dark brown hhh

MY LOVE LANGUAGE-

Japanese, Spanish, and Korean.I’ve wanted to be multilingual since forever and learn German, Italian, French, Portuguese, Thai, Japanese, and Korean is now on my bucklist.

TALENTS-

Nothing special.

MY ULTIMATE BIAS(ES)-

BamBam| Baekhyun| Chanyeol| Yoongi

CONCERTS I’VE BEEN TO-

Bold of you to think I’ve been to any at all.

LAST BOOK I READ-

First They Killed My Father, I forgot the author.

FAVOURITE ICECREAM FLAVOUR-

Coconut, vanilla, cookies&cream, or peach!!

CATS OR DOGS-

Definitely dogs, but I would own a kitten. I love kittens and dogs, but full grown cats just aren’t for me. But hey, I like drawing cats more than I like drawing dogs,, wildcats that is.

SONG I’M LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW-

I’m not listening to anything right now, but if I was, it’d be Take You Home by Baekhyun or Lay’s Namanana.

DAY OR NIGHT-

Night, but I get super paranoid at night, too sooo,, I’m kind of both tbh, even though Im more of an evening gal rather than a night or day one.

DO I LIKE ROLLERCOASTERS-

Never been on one, so I’d be scared to death, but I’m a pretty brave coward if I’m being honest. I’d be the one person to point at the highest, scariest ride and everyone is like “nO” even though I’m scared.

LUCKY NUMBER-

7 and 21

FAVOURITE QUOTE-

“I live so I love.” -Kim Namjoon

FAVOURITE ALBUM-

• 7 for 7 by GOT7

• Most Beautiful Moment In Life pt.2 by BTS

WHAT I FIND ATTRACTIVE IN OTHER PEOPLE-

• Wit

• Humor, and down-to-earthness

BATTERY PERCENTAGE-

100%, lmao this thing always charged

WHAT IM DOING TOMORROW-

Imma sleep in, read some fics, and take naps.

NATIONALITY-

American.

FAVOURITE SONG-

21 by Dean.

STUFFED ANIMALS I OWN-

A bunch of Beanie Boos that I’ve had for a long time, and 3 bears.

WITCHES OR VAMPIRES-

How about werewolves (;

#i couldnt finish the rest so ill do it here in the tags lmaoo #i prefer tea over coffee #no fave holiday #songs that make me cry are Epiphany by Jin and Sick by Got7 #uh #forgot the other questions #got-to comfort food is icecream #@jieunies

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L'histoire De Domaine De Massereau Vin

In this article, we will examine transforming Tips to transform your basement into a wine cellar.

Assess your basement

Is your basement wanting to be converted into a wine cellar? Just before making an attempt a costly renovation, it is crucial to gauge When the project is possible. The basement must be roomy enough to accommodate a wine cellar of acceptable dimensions. It should be equipped to accommodate almost any refurbishment that aims at controlling the atmosphere from the home which in turn will affect the storing and ageing of the wine. Any inadvertent development could adversely have an impact on your wine collection and in many cases hurt exactly the same.

Any basement that is definitely to host a wine cellar must be sealed off that has a concrete sealant and become fabricated from concrete. The ceiling on the room must have a minimum of an R-19 insulation.

Command the climate

It would be a costly affair but we very advise that you choose to spend money on an HVAC (heating, air flow and air-con) process that may be certain to wine rooms. Conventional systems are not able to control humidity and temperature inside the area in a method that HVAC methods can.

System

Guantee that you have got each individual element of the remodeling challenge prepared out down to the tiniest depth. There shouldn't be any disagreeable surprises or unforeseen deviation from your execution. Be sure to Take note - changing your basement into a wine cellar is often a high priced proposition. A mean reworking job will operate into a number of tens of A huge number of bucks. Also, if concrete pouring and excavation are concerned, it can improve the charges even more.

Insulation

Just in case you do not have the spending budget for an HVAC method, you may even now control the temperature within your basement wine cellar successfully by means of insulation. Basement insulation is primarily governed by factors like geographical site so it is recommended that you simply look for Experienced enable Within this regard. As an example, if you can be found during the southern U.s., it really is highly recommended to install moisture obstacles outside the house each individual wall along with the ceiling and floor. To prevent mould and condensation buildup, you could possibly also increase closed mobile foam insulation.

As has become reviewed over, converting a basement right into a wine cellar is an expensive affair. Therefore, setting up the execution effectively and following the aforementioned methods will certainly assist in acknowledging the wine cellar of the dreams.

Should you are located in Georgia, US, and searching for basement contractors in Atlanta, you might be in luck. There are several design providers in the area that provide great remodeling companies at cost-effective costs.

Wine pairing is a popular matter within the wine entire world but Were you aware that there's a wellbeing connection? Do you know that some of the compounds in wine are good in your heath? Wine pairing will now be more about what wine goes with all your chicken, lamb or nut roast. In my new book Nutriwine I demonstrate how wine pairing is going to be practiced in the future - having a wellness relationship.

Wine Pairing & The Molecular Well being RecomendationThe entire working experience of wine tasting receives far better when You begin to pair wine with foods. This will likely also further broaden your frontal cortex for wine information and facts and lead to more health peaks in your body biochemistry mainly because it reacts to your flavour and also the food items is a lot better digested. Most of the time people pair white wine with white meat like chicken and fish and red wine with beef typically beef and lamb. Pretty sweet wine goes with dessert as any other wine paired which has a sweet dish will style acidic. The whites will Lower via brine and the reds will insert texture for the meat and both will attract out flavours. For restaurants it might be practical to evaluate the factors concerning flavor with the wine as that cannot be altered the food items can be made within the wines available. Afterall The weather in wine are established extended prior to deciding to dine.

Whites will range concerning dryness to sweetness and age as We have now seen earlier. With reds your discussing tannin and oak from a style range between smooth to a tough style that extends to leathery. A dry Savignon Blanc will go effectively with grilled fish and crab with its citrus notes. With roast hen you might have a Chardonnay to complement the butteryness or possibly a velvety Merlot to attract out the feel of the meat. Coming to beef you could have Pinot Noir or a Cabernet Savignon their total entire body and also tannins complement the meat. Champagne will Slash by way of any brine in fish dishes like caviar and oysters. There are a selection of very easily printable cost-free charts on the web to down load and print to aid your wine pairing. With the huge popularity of Asian food stuff now around the world think Rieslings from Germany for refreshing crispness.

You may think that each one this is pie within the sky but there is loads of science behind wine pairing. As an example bell peppers include 2-methoxy-three-isobutylpyrazine which can be located in Savignon Blanc. So All those two would go effectively alongside one another. This is a very simple example of how subtle This could certainly get but basically He's matching the food items and wines primarily based on their aromatic and flavour compounds. If they're very similar they will not clash and alternatively produce a gastromic synergy.

The main purpose of wine pairing with food items is synergy that improves your dining working experience. Like several great marriage the wine must not overtake the food stuff along with the foodstuff will have to not overtake the wine. Together they convey out the ideal of one another. White wine such as will Reduce by fishy style and the citrus notes will complement the flavor of your dish. Lemon is usually served with fish and lemongrass in Asia.

There's two paths when it comes to wine pairing. One particular is by adhering to the recommendation of gurus in what wine to pair using your food items and one other is empirical - personal demo and mistake. All and sundry will have different likes and dislikes. As Vaynerchuck suggests generally in Wine Library TV if you are attempting a different wine with the meals each day in 6 months you'll know your likes and dislikes.

Dr Maury was a french medical professional also competent in acupuncture and homeopathy. In regards to wine Maury thinks that wine acts being an aid to https://www.domainedemassereau.com/ digestion. Medoc wines are wonderful at firming the tummy with their tannins with calcium and magnesium. Also the intestine walls get toned significantly if the individual is liable to diarrhea or irritable bowel syndrome. For constipation he endorses sweet wines like Anjou superior in glycerol that will Possess a delicate epsom salt influence. Yet another promoter of wine and health and fitness was Dr Luca California. He also wrote a number of textbooks on the topic. Because their books We've far more scientific reports to confirm the things they were saying at the time about wine and wellness.

The Lively compounds of wine for well being are B vitamins, minerals and phenolic compounds, for example; anthocyanins, catechins, quercetin and resveratrol. The B natural vitamins are Vitamin B1 (thiamin), Vitamin B2 (riboflavin) and vitamin B3 (niacin) especially. B nutritional vitamins are essential for Electrical power production in the body. Viamin B1 is good with the pumping strength of the center and concentrations are depleted with lasting usage of diuretics. Thiamin is likewise fantastic for your nervous procedure and protects the anxious process from hurt particularly in diabetic neuropathy. Additionally enhances your wondering and was the initial vitamin to generally be found. Vitamin B2 allows in the creation of thyroxine hormone which controls metabolism and pink blood cells when it really works with iron. Main advantage of riboflavin is usually that it shields the eyes specially the lens against cataracts. 50 % of your body's demands for Vitamin B3 comes from the amino acid tryptophan. Staying a pure anti-inflamatory it has benefited Individuals with arthritis. In nerve wellness it is said to relieve melancholy anxiousness and insomnia.