#But at the cost of leaving Ten and Shun behind

[warning-heckboop]

So I've been working on a glohm zombie design for Shun for a few days after work as a follow up to this (I just keep getting horribly distracted and so I haven't made any progress on it oops)

But I've been kind of struggling with any good ideas for a glomhbified Ecks design. Buuuut I might have an alternative idea for that

So let me ask yall:

(the Consequences, of course, being that he wasn't able to save his two best friends from that fate and instead he has to fight against them in order to try to save them from what they've become <3)

[spirited111]

Wanting is the most embarrassing form of self mutilation. This is based on two premises:

1. What you have is not enough for you.

2. You are not brave enough to turn your wanting into having.

Take this moment, for instance. I really want a smoothie. I would kill for a peanut butter banana tango on my tongue. However, standing up is daunting, and I don’t feel like leaving this room. So, I’ll settle for the two month old sleeve of saltines that I found in my backpack last night. Don’t get me wrong- I still want the smoothie. I am not enjoying these crackers, even though they’re a perfectly okay snack. Yet, I am here, discontent and halfway through a sleeve of saltines. There are people who haven’t eaten in weeks, and I’m mad that I’m eating crackers instead of drinking a smoothie. I could be starving to death like everyone else outside of Belzbergh, but here I am complaining because I don’t like my self inflicted excuse of a meal.

So, I reach for my next Saltine. I take a bite, and crumbs fly off my little square and onto my chest. I want to take a shower and rinse off the cracker crumbs and the remnants of this last week, but I’m too much a coward to sit under the hot water and let myself enjoy it. I’m afraid of letting myself enjoy anything right now.

There are five towers concealed beneath large cities around the world, but I’d have to pluck the liquor withered, saltine dusted feathers from my wings if I truly wanted to take them all down in time. For whatever reason, I thought that would be feasible up until last week.

Our commanding ranks were established in a haze behind a dormitory. We gathered on the cold ground after a long night in the library. My criminal justice, pre-law degree paired beautifully with an indica blend before bed. Our Practical Philosophy exam focused on paradigms and moral codes. We had to write an essay based on one of four prompts, and we had almost all chosen the same one. We had to argue our case for or against a live organ market based on our preferred moral theory.

Conversations like these are always so easy in theory, right? That’s why a lot more is always said than done. It’s a miracle that we managed what we did in Abrax last week. Of course, we lost a lot of good soldiers in the process. Couldn’t argue that case with a knife to my throat, and I once argued with a ten-year old about how much money you start with in Monopoly. It didn’t end well. For the ten year old.

Anyways, we were in this patch of woods behind the dorms, tossing around a matchbox that Veronica had snagged from her bartending gig downtown.

“See these are the pitfalls of an air-quote-free-close-air-quote market economy.”

She exhaled.

“When the need for truly valuable resources arise, the government steps in to “regulate” what they can’t profit from. They shut down herbalists and shunned the guardian healers, so government funded, publicly traded pharmaceutical companies could flourish. They made the cost of land unattainable, then poured concrete over the forests. They built apartment complexes on top of each other, and we wonder how people became so out of touch with nature. This is just another way they try to control us! It’s just ridiculous and-“

She inhaled.

I watched her as our circle cycled through because I was enamored with her perspective. It was feeling and beautiful and honest. It was Veronica’s unadulterated opinion, and from her humanitarian perspective, I found it refreshing. I was inspired by her.

I exhaled.

We argued playfully in our Socratic Seminar of five, and we addressed different pressing issues driving the flaws of our free-market economy. Each perspective was argued with religious fervor.

I inhaled, and then Gabe spoke up before I could get a word out.

He probably said something important, but my focus shifted to our shadows dancing in the grass. I became hypnotized by the kaleidoscope of imagery that materialized from the green canvas beneath us. Our feet were suddenly surrounded by the outline of cows jumping over moons and my fifth grade math teacher’s handwriting and my mom’s face after I came home drunk freshman year. By the time I looked up, the conversation progressed, and the faces around me were enraptured by something that surpassed my level of comprehension at that point. My brain simmered with thoughts of my love for these people. I would help them with a coup if they asked. I would help them hide a body. These people, these conversations, burn bright in my mind like stars, and the constellation they create is my guiding light in this war.

I am sprawled out on the carpet as I have been for the last three days. I try to find constellations in the lint balls next to my nose, but all I see are reasons to rip up this carpet. I turn my head to the side, and I try to divert my attention to the conversations coming from the room next to mine. Thats when I realize that the routine buzz of the compound is an unusual sea of whispers. There have been a lot of rumors going around since the fall of Abrax. Some units are high from the win, and they are ready to rush towards the second tower. Others believe that we need to step in and start healing the cities above Abrax. They have their first chance at righteousness in decades, and we started this outfit with the intention of healing those people. Most of the rumors, though, are about me. I’m not an idiot. Also, these walls are thin and this house is too small for fifteen of us.

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 5 OF 22

It’s not on purpose.

Theo isn’t intentionally testing her determination or anything of that sort. He just can’t wrap his head around her persistence.

He doesn’t purposefully make himself hard to contact to shrug her off. It’s just that he’s not as fond of social media as the next person. Sure, he does have accounts for the biggest names in the industry—Instagram, Facebook, the works—but he doesn’t use them regularly, or posts on them at all. The easiest and more surefire way to contact him, really, is through the usual, plain old messaging app on the phone, or maybe through a call.

(And he’s not so sure about giving her his number so suddenly.)

He doesn’t give the most roundabout answers to Arthur’s questions to keep her hanging. He just doesn’t want Arthur sticking his nose in business that isn’t his to begin with. He doesn’t find any reason to tell his coworker anything about their book exchange, even if—after Arthur’s admission—this entire friendship began with his orchestration.

He’s not doing it on purpose.

He knows how easily this could lead to understandable frustration. Maybe even the vague feeling that maybe he’s only attending their little book exchange sessions at the Grove because she gets Vincent to tell him. Maybe she won’t have the patience for him. Maybe she’ll just drop it.

But she doesn’t.

And that makes it even more confusing.

“Why are you taking this so seriously?” Theo asks one day, after they’ve handed the next week’s books to one another. He’s looking at her with a stern gaze, as if calculating every minuscule twitch on her face.

She only shrugs her shoulders and looks up at him innocently. “I’m having fun, aren’t you?”

As if the extra steps he’s making her take are not wasted time. As if she sees that she’s already slowly melting ice. It’s not that Theo is shunning her—but it’s safer like this, keeping her at a distance. Theo has his own priorities, and all arrows point to Vincent. The least he can do is make sure the books he lends are good; make sure he has the appropriate insight to bring with him. And she, in turn, sends every pass-the-message text (to Arthur, to Vincent), leaves all the notes in between lent and borrowed books, shows up to every meeting with that unbeatable smile on her face.

And in truth, Theo isn’t sure where this is going. Theo isn’t sure what she’s going to do to him, why they’re doing all this. But for now, he’ll just let her keep on doing this. For now.

They just both have a good feeling about it.

--

There is a certain art of choosing books to recommend to people. There is, of course, the matter of having a certain level of being well-read, as choosing from a hundred books allows more elbow room than choosing from ten.

But she knows better; there is more to it than just that.

If there’s one thing she is absolutely sure about the world, it’s that books—fiction, nonfiction, poetry, name it—all have the ability to bring people elsewhere. It’s magic she wishes she could have in real life. Sneak in between the pages and find yourself transported to an entirely separate timeline of the universe where these things happened. Slip a hand at the center-point and find yourself in a different world, where things are different.

Wouldn’t that be amazing?

But it’s not just about the bringing into, but also the bringing with—what do the books carry with them that will be useful to the reader? Which of its commendable qualities will match the receiver? Is it its storytelling, the way it weaves each character through their growth and journey? Is it the message, the core of it which it carries throughout the text through every plot point that happens? Is it the imagery, the space between the real and the imagined, where the infinite possibilities exist?

This is the tender part. This is the part that feels the most raw.

Romance has never been at the top of her priority list. She’s no newbie to it, but it’s just never been the most important thing in her life. It’s never been on the list at all. Getting into a relationship, the dating scene, being romantically attached to people—she understands the joy of it, she’s definitely dipped her toes into the water, but it isn’t what she wants right now.

She figures choosing books for people is the closest she can get to that feeling for now.

It’s not only Theo, of course—sometimes Arthur asks her for some recommendations too, and sometimes Dazai does, as well. To her it’s nothing more than a way of showing her affection, a little, “I had you in my thoughts,” as she matches a book to its recipient. It becomes more than just another title, not just another author.

She clutches the book Theo’s lent her for the week close to her chest as she crouches in front of her bookshelf to browse her own collection. She thinks, matching their theme to her heart: which book would best suit Theo’s needs? Which things might he benefit from hearing?

Pulls a book out from the shelf and wonders—which one would grace his life with a little bit of stardust?

--

That week, Theo asked her to “lend me the book you wish everyone would read at least once”—and when she answered with “no, that’s impossible, I can’t lend you 39 books at once?”—he clarified, “the one you’re still coming to terms with.” And that’s a really odd way to describe a book you’d want everyone else to read—Theo himself knew that—but somehow it made perfect sense to her, and the week later she hands him the small bound book.

She had passed onto him Neruda’s Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair.

An interesting choice, really, for that book to have fit under the said category, but Theo’s stopped trying to make sense of the surprises she brings up for him at this point. The book isn’t really lengthy—this particular volume is less than a hundred pages long, and it only took Theo a good hour to go through the contents, even while relishing every word of it. (She does the opposite, speed-running every book as fast as possible, because she “can’t be patient about what happens next”, a concept he cannot understand—“The book is not leaving, why don’t you enjoy what is written?” “I can’t wait! I need to know!”)

It’s not a complicated book.

But it sure has complicated feelings.

So he kind of understands why she had chosen that one.

Theo has a complicated relationship with love. Not that he’s had any sort of traumatizing past relationship or a lingering resentment for an ex, but there was just something about the concept of romance that doesn’t sit…right with him.

It’s not that he doesn’t know what it is, he does. There are books he loves—books he is very thankful for having found in this lifetime. There are food he loves, food that fills his stomach with warmth and makes his heart flutter and makes him feel like maybe world peace is achievable, and it’s in a spoonful of this creamy sugary pancake after all. And most importantly, he loves his brother very much; would like to see Vincent do great things in the future, or, if not that, then at least be happy, and live the life he wants to live—that’s what love is, isn’t it? To enjoy something wholly for what it is, and what it does to you. To want the best for a person.

His problem with love is he doesn’t know what to do with it.

In the same way that he still loves his parents even if they don’t understand why he’d go through such lengths for Vincent. In the same way that he still loves the people who’ve left him behind in the past, friends, old lovers, even when his heart was still pouring. And isn’t that what love is? To love something wholly for what it is, what it does to you, to forgive it of its mistakes and shortcomings?

Even when the cost is yours to bear?

What to do with a love that can live in his heart when the other no longer wants it?

Theo reads Neruda’s poetry book once. And then reads it again. And then reads some of his other books for good measure.

--

It’s pretty common to find Arthur walking around the campus with his hands in his pockets and the many eyes of adoring (or maybe loathing) girls on him—for all the understandable reasons. Today was a little different though, because he is outside the Arts Building in the late afternoon, reading some sort of a flyer.

“Arthur!”

He hastily keeps the flyer into his bag as she jogs up to him. “Hello, little miss. Nice to see you around.”

“What’re you doing here?” she asks, trying to peep into his bag.

Arthur, instead, pushes himself off the wall that he’d been leaning on, smoothly slipping his arm around hers. Months of friendship had gotten her used to him being touchy; she lets him. “Labor of love. Walk me back to the bookshop?”

She’s not surprised, but she asks anyway. “Are you on your shift?”

“It was an important errand to run, no need to be so incensed,” he says, half-laughing. “Let’s go back before your boyfriend has more than words for me.”

Pinching Arthur’s arm, she quips back: “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Why, that’s exactly what he told me! You know you don’t need to keep it a secret from me.”

“You’re the absolute worst, Arthur.” The two of them fall into an even pace walking down the sidewalk. She relies on the silence to get them there, but there is something about the biting intrigue that snags her. “…What did Theo say?”

Arthur smirks. Openly. “Curious suddenly?”

“He doesn’t exactly talk to me about things like this,” she huffs. “It’s just books and literature with him.”

“That just means you haven’t cracked him.”

She pouts. “You’re not supposed to need to crack people.” She tugs at Arthur’s sleeve, insistent. “C’mon, tell me. He has to have told you something, right?”

Confidently, Arthur says, “Theo tells me everything.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I suppose my information is subpar, then, so why should I—”

“Arthur!”

“Yes, yes, okay,” he says, finally relenting. “He won’t say it to your face, but he really enjoys spending time with you, little bird.”

Her face lights up like a little sun. “Really?”

“Oh, dear. Whatever will he feel, ratting him out like this—”

“Please, we all know you do not care because we are your source of entertainment,” she says, elbowing him. “…I was doubting it, honestly, but that’s a relief.”

“He never stops talking about your book club, actually.”

“No way.”

“Always masked in a complaint, but always about it all the time,” Arthur says, watching the smile grow on her face. “You’re a good influence on him, at least he’s not brooding away in a corner all day long. The customers have enjoyed his new, refreshed presence. All the lovely girls coming in now, what a joy.”

She squeezes his arm as they round the corner. “Why do I feel like this is going exactly according to your plan?” Arthur does not attempt denial. 

--

Theo does not stop asking for poetry books.

Only because he knows that even if she doesn’t voice it out loud, she’d want to lend him poetry books anyway. She, on the other hand, changes genres every week. Poetry, nonfiction, YA fiction, children’s fiction. She jumps from Ariel to A Little Life to The Girl Who drank the Moon to On Earth we Were Briefly Gorgeous. She has so much to say and so much to ask.

It’s just about driven Theo insane.

(It’s a good thing he enjoys her company.)

He won’t admit it, of course, but he shows up anyway. He frowns at every text she sends Vincent but he’s there. Every single Saturday. Reads every stray fast-food receipt note she slips in between the pages of the books she returns. Spends time on the books she lends him.

Ah, what did he get himself into?

Whatever.

Today, he’s brought with him Kerouac’s On the Road because she asked for a book that made him want to go away.

“Why am I not surprised that you brought me a Kerouac?” she asks while taking the book into her hands. She always holds them so gently. “His style is so interesting, though. Is it a shame to admit I’ve only read his poetry?”

“Only a little,” Theo says, but he’s joking because the corner of his lip is curled up ever so gently.

She flips the book to read the summary at the back. “Beat Generation, huh.”

“They wrote about liberation,” Theo says, sounding somehow defensive of his choice of a book. “Gritty and maybe even sloppy writing, but they wrote about freedom. Breaking the norm, finding yourself, facing the reality… doesn’t that fit your criteria of making one want to go away?”

She turns to him curiously. “Have you ever wanted to go away, Theo?”

He doesn’t turn to her. “I’m more the kind of person that stays.��

“Well, being a househusband isn’t bad work,” she comments, to which Theo snorts. “You know, I’ve really found that you have some sort of… classical, helpless romantic kind of aura on you.”

That makes him turn towards her. “What.”

“I mean, the books you’ve lent me—they all have some sort of romantic quality to them, you know? No matter how serious they get. I’m still recovering from A Little Life, you know.” She laughs. “Plus, all you’ve been asking me to lend you is poetry. Have you perhaps changed your mind about poetry?”

He narrows his eyes. “I don’t see how that makes me a romantic.” He sighs. “I didn’t think lowly of poetry, it just wasn’t my priority,” Theo clarifies. “We agreed to let the borrower decide the genre of the book but you’re so insistent on poetry that I’d rather take what you have instead of asking for something else. You’re pretty annoying when you’re insistent.”

She doesn’t deny the fact that she’s always saying about how she already has a poetry book to lend him every week. “I’m not annoying,” she says, pouting. “Geez, Theo, all you need to do is be honest and say you love poetry now and it’s because of me.”

“Is this a cause of yours? Getting people into poetry?”

But then, the banter stops. She falls silent for a moment that feels too long. Theo feels like he has to take back what he says, when, “Yes, something like that,” she says, softly. “They’re like love letters to the universe, I think they’re great.”

“That’s an interesting take.”

She frowns. “Do you not like love letters?”

Theo shrugs. “They’re classical.”

“That’s a non-answer,” she huffs. Holding her palm upward to the sky in a gesture, she says, “I just think they’re neat. It’s like a different experience in every book, every collection. You ever get a feeling that some poems find you, instead of the other way around? Like you were meant to find it at that exact moment?” Theo lightly shakes his head. “Really? Maybe you’ll experience it with some of the stuff I give you.”

He doesn’t know what’s hiding behind that serious expression, that other reason she’s so attached to poetry that she isn’t quite ready to say yet. He can feel it though. He doesn’t have the right to ask yet.

Instead, he raises his eyebrow and says, “You seem awfully confident.”

“I’m planning to make you read hundreds and hundreds of them, so it’s just a matter of numbers,” she says with a grin. “C’mon. Have any of the books I’ve given to you at least had a poem that resonated with you?”

And Theo pauses. Resonated, that’s a heavy word, it carries a lot with it. One could wish what they create would resonate with a lot of its consumers, whether that’s paintings or poetry or philosophies, but it’s not an exact art, and sometimes it’s all just a question of luck. Theo hesitantly shakes his head. “Not that I can think of,” he says. Thinks of the lines he’d copied out of the books to be remembered later. They were good lines, but hardly ones that resonated.

She hums, not sounding too put down by his answer. “Well, that just means we have to keep looking, right? I hope today’s at least gets some emotion in your face, Mister-Statue-Face-With-No-Feelings.”

“Hondje… What did you just call me?”

--

That day, he gives her his phone number.

--

She doesn’t know why everyone keeps asking her about it.

Sure, she had a crush on him, but it was really only entirely out of aesthetics. There was no denying he was hot, but he’s rather rough on the edges and has a rather sharp personality to be someone would want a boyfriend out of. Really, at this point, all she wants is to hang out with him and maybe reads some of the books he reads. Again—she doesn’t have space for distractions right now.

But everyone keeps asking her about it. Non-stop.

When she goes to the bookshop and Theo is at the back, Arthur comes up to her and asks her how The Friendship is going—as if it were something more special than just your regular old friendship. Most of the time she doesn’t know what to tell him, because somehow all he ever says to her after hearing about it is a small hmm like the answer didn’t quite fill in what he wanted to hear. Well, Arthur, sucks to be you, but you’re not hearing what you want to hear, she says to herself. Arthur’s a secret sucker for romance, the playboy that he is, and she’s not giving him a show.

But it’s not just Arthur. Vincent, too, asks her regularly. And considering she spends a good amount of time in the café he works at, the questions aren’t exactly that avoidable. She’ll order her drink and a pastry and Vincent will go, “is Theo being nice to you?” or any other variation of that sentence. (Somehow that feels like Vincent knows Theo is just mean in general, and that’s a kind of relief she doesn’t know how to explain. If his brother thinks he’s regularly mean, maybe that’s really just who he is, and also kind of forgivable.) Of course, she can’t exactly tell Vincent that Theo isn’t being nice to her, but oppositely, Theo isn’t really being mean to her either. He’s tolerating her every attempt to annoy him—or really, not annoy him, just hang out with him—and he hasn’t pushed her away exactly, so it must be going alright, right?

Of course, Dazai is curious as well, despite his earlier misgivings with Theo. (Dazai’s had bad experiences with business majors and romance in the past.) He’s not as persistent as Vincent and Arthur, but every chance he gets—say, an offhanded remark about a book or the bookshop, any little topic he feels he can reasonably steer towards the direction of Theo—he does ask. He asks in the way a friend would be curious of a new relationship—it is one, just not romantic, she insists—all full of worries for said friend. She appreciates this in many ways, because she knows Dazai can give her advice that will be very valuable to her. Still—the attention the thing pulls is kind of ridiculous, to her.

It doesn’t end with Dazai though, and at this point, it’s just going to be a long laundry list of people who are looking for gossip between her and Theo when—there really isn’t any. Despite being a literature major, she’s actually part of the campus’ local astronomy club, because why not? Stars are neat and she can’t quite catch up with the rest of the astrophysics majors that is actually with her, but the stargazing with the telescopes definitely makes it worth it. It’s just that Dazai is friends with their club head for a reason or another—a graduate student in astrophysics, Isaac Newton, and when Dazai knows there really isn’t any much harm, he runs his mouth, so—Isaac’s asked her at least once about Theo as well. Luckily Isaac is more on the awkward side—and they really aren’t that close quite yet, club aside—so he asks once, sees her reaction of despair and exhaustion, and never asks again.

She wonders if Theo gets the same barrage of questions as she does. From Arthur, for sure, but—Theo doesn’t exactly talk about other friends of his. Maybe they just haven’t gotten close enough for him to bring them up. Besides, whether or not people ask him about them or not, he’s sure that he already knows about the little crush—he’s just playing at it. Playing for what, she doesn’t know, and somehow, she’s fine with that.

That was all it was ever meant to be, anyway—a passing crush, a nice face, a sight for sore eyes, something to fall back on to refresh herself after long days of pushing her mind to the limit, working herself to exhaustion.

He was meant to be a breather, not a distraction.

To be friends is more than enough.

She screams into a pillow and grins.

[jamesworrell007]

Best Restaurant to Eat in with Family in Bangkok

Bangkok has consistently been a foodie heaven, with knockout dinners on pretty much every square. While the road food here is still best in class, the city has likewise rethought itself as of late with an extraordinary cluster of top notch food alternatives and incredible connoisseur choices from around the world. Indian Chef Garima Arora will astonish your sense of taste with lovely takes on Asian charge utilizing the freshest privately sourced fixings at the honor winning Gaa, while Thai cook Bee Satongun has won culinary expert of the year respects just as being granted a Michelin star for her brilliant real Thai manifestations at Paste. Mezzaluna, set 65 stories up at the Lebua, has Bangkok's best view, however it additionally has 2 Michelin stars and the honor winning food of Japanese cook Ryuki Kawasaki. Other really great Thai-impacted spots incorporate the interesting manifestations at Canvas and the extraordinary Thai tasting menu at Saawaan. For valid elusive Thai dishes at exceptionally reasonable costs, both Supanniga and The Local are the best places around, and on the off chance that you need Isaan northeastern flavor, head to consistently packed Baan Som Tam.

It's not just Thai food that guests are coming to Bangkok for the time being however. Notwithstanding Gaa, Japanese highlights profoundly on the Bangkok menu. For innovative sushi, Isao will take your breath away and is most likely the lone eatery in Bangkok that has a line out the entryway 365 days per year. There are a large number of Italian spots to look over, however for a genuine trattoria, head to Appia. For French, Le Normandie not just serves the best haute food French for a significant distance, yet it additionally has two Michelin stars. You most unquestionably will not be going hungry in this city.

Also Check out Bangkok Pet Friendly Apartments for Rent

Canvas - THONGLOR

Material, granted a Michelin star in the most recent (second) release of the Michelin Bangkok Guide, features privately sourced Thai fixings, a considerable lot of which coffee shops may not be comfortable with, presenting great six and nine-course tasting menus of nearby top choices that have been given a global contort utilizing reformist cooking techniques. The eatery additionally features the incredible culinary abilities of Chef Riley Sanders, who along with a heavenly and efficient group, runs an amazing open kitchen, getting burger joints one of Bangkok's best gastronomic encounters.

Sanders hails from Texas, and after a stretch at the famous Uchiko Japanese combination café in Austin, went to work with 3-star Michelin Chef Laurent Gras at the eminent L20 in Chicago. Be that as it may, following this he shunned ascending the conventional stepping stool and rather got a position cooking on a personal ship, where he was given free imaginative reach in the kitchen, permitting him to sharpen his specialty considerably more. All the more significantly, the work gave Sanders both the time and cash to travel, his other energy, and he left out traveling all throughout the planet, tasting his way through business sectors, road food, and fancy foundations everywhere on the globe.

Material is the result of Sanders being attracted to Bangkok and its astounding culinary culture, and he's raised neighborhood and regularly exceptional fixings higher than ever. Take the soy-smoked ruler mackerel arranged sous vide and presented with an orgasmic glue made of subterranean insect eggs, dill, and horseradish. Sanders says that this was enlivened by Western "shrimp and steak" menus, just here transforming the mackerel into the "surf" joined with one of Thailand's most unordinary inland fixings, the subterranean insect eggs.

Sitting at the open counter here is a delight, as you will watch Sanders and his group in real life, just as being given the story behind each dish and its fixings as they are served. You discover that the heavenly frog comes from a homestead in Khao Yai and that the palatable blossoms presented with it are from Samut Prakhan (a territory adjoining Bangkok), and that the most delicious nectar you've at any point tasted (served on new gooseberries in season over sorbet) comes from stingless honey bees that are from Chantaburi, and produce an exceptionally thought sweet nectar.

Supper here is an otherworldly occasion where no one can tell what's coming straightaway. Take the "rice bread." Served as a modest canapé, this is really one of the menu knockouts and will leave you wishing you had a portion to bring home. Produced using natural rice from Surin Province, it's presented with earthy colored margarine and yellow stew emulsion, and finished off with salted egg yolk and toasted tacky rice. Light and delightful, Sanders says the thought behind it was to serve the Thai staple of rice as a variant of the Western staple of bread.

Most suitably named, Canvas includes a cook whose craftsman's range is a melange of tones, ensured to leave your sense of taste asking for additional, and is a most meriting passage into the Bangkok Michelin guide and foodie feasting scene that has cleared the city.

Suggested for Best Restaurants since: Canvas highlights Thai-impacted imaginative food made by a rising star youthful American gourmet specialist and is genuinely one of Bangkok's ideal.

Dave's master tip: Take the BTS Skytrain to Thonglor and afterward either stroll up Thonglor (Sukhumvit Soi 55) ten minutes to arrive or probably snatch a taxi. The café is soon after Thonglor Soi 5 on your lefthand side.

Glue BANGKOK - PATHUMWAN

Exemplary Thai food is eminent world over, yet once in a while does one discover it introduced in a particularly imaginative manner as at Paste. Glue Bangkok is the brainchild of Australian honor winning cook Jason Bailey and his Thai accomplice Bongkoch "Honey bee" Satongun, who got approval for their Thai cafés in Australia and afterward migrated to Bangkok, carrying innovative and quality food with them. Bailey presently centers around the business end and undertakings for Paste, while Satongun runs the kitchen, zeroing in on unique Thai flavors and surfaces, with fixings sourced straight from the producer and best business sectors in the country. The eatery got a Michelin star and Satongun has won gourmet specialist of the year praises to go with a large group of different honors. Customary Thai food is done here with lovely inventive turns and an absolute regard for taste blends enough to wow the most insightful coffee shop. Attempt the impeccable Andaman lobster with fresh fish skin or the watermelon and ground salmon with betel leaves and shallots, both are sublime. The café used to have a branch over on Sukhumvit 49, yet has moved to the luxurious Gaysorn Plaza, carrying some refined genuinely refined feasting to Bangkok's most exquisite mall.

Suggested for Best Restaurants on the grounds that: For genuinely creative and legitimate high end food Thai cooking, Paste sticks out.

Dave's master tip: Paste is situated on the third floor of the Gaysorn Plaza. Bring the immediate passage into Gaysorn from the Chidlom BTS skytrain station. Reservations are fundamental.

MEZZALUNA - BANGRAK

Mezzaluna is Bangkok's most chic eatery, and eating up here 65 stories over the Chao Phraya River and the Bangkok horizon is one of the top encounters one can have while around, particularly as the café has been granted two stars by the Bangkok Michelin guide, and highlights the sense of taste boggling cooking of gourmet expert Ryuki Kawasaki, who has monitored Michelin kitchens in France, the U.S., and his local Japan, and was named Chef of the Year by the Escoffier Society while working at Twist by Pierre Gagnaire in Las Vegas.

Assuming control over the rudder at Mezzaluna in 2015, Kawasaki has joined his standout French cooking procedures with the absolute most only sourced fixings to be found in Asia. Take the Niigata Murakami Wagyu meat for instance, which Kawasaki brings only to Thailand from Japan. The hamburger comes from a little variety of painstakingly chose, top notch calves from Niigata Prefecture, which are raised on rice straw, roughage, and premium compound feed, giving the meat a smooth surface and totally soften in the mouth taste. It is served here at Mezzaluna with dark truffles and barbecued over binchotan charcoal, and is the mark dish featuring an extraordinary seven-course tasting menu

Everything about the feasting experience at Mezzaluna is done to most extreme flawlessness. A flock of staff drifts around your table, never neglecting to see whether you need more bread or water, continually bringing sense of taste boosts before dishes, and giving itemized clarifications of the multitude of enamoring manifestations. A specialist sommelier comes out to clarify each wine matching presented with the food, giving the causes of each container, however praising its features and flavor profiles, and the basement here is one of the best taking all things together Bangkok, with a few of the wines served being select to Mezzaluna.

The menu at Mezzaluna is occasional, changing like clockwork, despite the fact that dishes like the Wagyu meat are constantly highlighted. Gourmet specialist Kawasaki says, "My enthusiasm is to make encounters that rouse and leave enduring recollections for individuals I share them with, and our culinary excursion at Mezzaluna comprises of different surfaces, flavors, artisinal occasional items, and cooking procedures."

This is a whole eating experience at its best, from gourmet expert to worker to table to the mood. Now, the sky (and potentially even a pined for third star) is the breaking point for Mezzaluna and its elite player culinary expert.

Suggested for Best Restaurants in light of the fact that: For Bangkok's most exquisite high as can be Michelin-granted greatness, you can't top Mezzaluna

Dave's master tip: Reservations are fundamental here, and it merits coming right on time for a nightfall drink at the Distil Bar, found just beneath the Mezzaluna.

[niqhtlord01]

Destiny: War of the False Speakers (Fanfic of Destiny Lore) The Speaker.  An unknown warlock that has lived since the founding of the last city and has strove to unite the various factions under the shadow of the traveler into the bulwark that would hold back the coming darkness and reclaim the world’s humanity once called theirs.  Ask any citizen of the Last City and they will all tell you as much as many of them know little of the enigmatic figure behind the mask. There are stories and rumors, whispers that surround him; but the majority are all stories that have been passed down from father to son, grandmother to daughter and so on. Only those blessed with the Traveler’s light could claim to know more of the mysterious figure as few of them stood with the Speaker when he helped found the bastion of humanity, and of those few even less know of the time when the Speaker was not alone.  Even during the onset of the Dark Age following the sacrifice of the Traveler, when technology became the stuff of magic and legends, all knew of the Traveler. Though they had lost their understanding of its nature they understood that it held power strong enough to turn deserts into jungles, smash frozen mountains into lush fields, and most powerful of all, bring the dead back to life through the ghosts.  Some strove to use their power to better the lives of those around them, others carved pocket kingdoms offering protection for loyalty and tribute, while a rare few wandered the wastes heeding the call of some unknown summons. Eventually many found their way to the Traveler and settled in the shadow of their god and it was here that the cults of the Traveler were strongest.  Several factions arose in the communities around the Traveler, many of which were centered around a individual or small group of individuals that had been brought back by the grace of the Traveler. The most prominent of these factions were led by those who claimed that they spoke for the mighty Traveler and in some more extreme cases that the Traveler spoke directly to them in their dreams. These claims were never fully proven though to the starved and frightened masses of normal citizens seeking to rebuild their lives it didn’t matter. These powerful individuals were accompanied by the ghosts, descendants of the Traveler, who would argue against them if the great sphere spoke to them as well?  Of the factions there were three that stood above all others, each bearing strong powers of persuasion and charisma, each followed by massed throngs of devout followers, and each claiming to be the true voice of the Traveler.  Astrid Blackmoon, Maiden of the Black Marsh A young woman with hair the color of wheat stalks and eyes as blue as the ocean, she bore the striking resemblance of a Valkyrie of old. Her ghost was of polished gold that shun so brightly it could blind those that stared too long at it. Having made her pilgrimage from what had once been Denmark to the last city, she preached that when the Traveler spoke to her it wished for humanity to repopulate the lush world the Traveler had remade for them and that no other world was needed. Astrid herself was not prone to violence and often portrayed frailty which in turn had the strange effect of making her followers believe that it was their duty to fight for and protect her at all costs. Her followers quickly seized the most fertile lands surrounding the Traveler and became the main supplier of food for the entire region. Hades-969, Butcher of the shifting Sands  Some Exo’s add a number to their name to remind themselves how many times they have had to reset, Hades-969 had his number set to remind him of how many people he’s killed. Cloaked in the skin of a savage beast, Hades-969 emerged from the scorching desert far to the southeast of the Traveler and left a trail of burned villages and broken bodies in his wake. He claimed that the Traveler spoke to him and told him that humanity had grown decadent from the gifts it had bestowed on them and thus had lost its favor, telling him to cull the weak and that only when the strong remain the Traveler would reawaken. Village by village he slaughtered the weak and leading the strong ever closer to the Traveler. His followers organised by a caste system of strength with those that wished to advance higher needing to slay a member from the caste above. This system led all the way to Hades-969 himself and was not surprised to find one of his lieutenants challenging him to a blood duel. His ghost was covered in rusted spikes and would often be thrown by Hades-969 as a projectile and impale his foe with it.    Morgan the one eyed  Not much was known of Morgan other than he had only one eye and could not remember what had happened to his other. He had stumbled into one of the surrounding camps one night and made himself at home. Many didn’t spare a thought for him as they assumed he was just another lost soul in search of the Traveler. After some time he began shouting warnings to any that would hear him about events that seemed impossible to predict, grabbing hold of those involved to try and save their lives only to be cast out and pushed aside as a mad man. This changed when his visions began coming true one by one until he had amassed a considerable group of followers proclaiming that the Traveler had taken his eye in exchange for visions of the future to lead humanity back to the golden age. His ghost was blind and remained firmly perched on Morgan’s shoulder at all times.  These three factions were locked in a seemingly endless struggle for sole control over the Traveler and the honor of being the chosen of the Traveler. Their conflicts grew to such a scale that were it not for the rise of the Iron Lords these Speakers may very well have left the remaining population in tatters.  The Iron Lord’s rise to power was a game changer as never before had such a large concentration of undying been rallied to a single standard. While still vastly outnumbers by the other factions the Iron Lord were mainly undying and could easily fight foes ten times their number and emerge victorious. More and more the Iron Lords began enforcing their will upon those under the Traveler’s shadow which led to tension among the would be Speaker’s.  Hades-969 saw the Iron Lords as a challenge sent by the Traveler to test his strength. He mobilized every warrior under him and declared war against the Iron Lords, personally leading the charge at the head of his ten thousand strong army as they scaled rocky slopes of Felwinter Peak.  The disciplined ranks of Iron Lords stood their ground and repelled wave after wave of fanatical followers as they through themselves at them with sometimes nothing but bones and rusty blades. It wasn’t until Hades-969 finally ascended the mountain fortress and challenged Lord Saladin to a duel to which Saladin agreed. The battle all but ceased as the two leaders drew their weapons and charged each other. Hades-969 unleashed a flurry of blows with his dual axes against Lord Saladin but the Iron Lord have become like the mountain he stood upon and deflected each attack with ease while not moving an inch until finally he raised his Iron Battle Ax and brought it down with a such strength that with a single blow it had shattered Hades-969 axes and cleaved through his ghost. Lord Saladin demanded that Hades-969 surrender but he refused declaring “Only the strong deserve to serve the Traveler.” Realizing that Hades-969 was too dangerous to let live, Lord Saladin struck him down and threw his broken body from the top of Felwinter Peak, scattering the surrounding army with the death of their leader.  With the removal of Hades-969′s faction the Iron Lord’s established a semi present group in the Traveler’s shadow and began construction of the wall around it for greater protection and was the source for the next conflict. Morgan the one eyed had received a vision of the future regarding the Last City. He saw the walls assaulted day and night by hordes of Fallen and swarms of unknown alien vessels, one so large that it wrapped itself around the Traveler itself. Believing this was a sign from the Traveler that a wall would only invite enemies to challenge and eventually lead to disaster Morgan denounced the construction project and actively sought to halt it with his followers quickly supporting him.  It was during a peaceful demonstration against the wall at the site of its construction that things spun out of control. A large crowd had gathered around the base of the main wall section led by Morgan while several members of the Iron Lords were present overseeing construction. While Morgan was at the head of the group a large stone block being placed at the top of the wall broke free and crashed down to earth like a meteor crushing Morgan in an instant before he had time to react. With the sudden loss of their leader as a result of the wall many of Morgan’s supporters took it as a sign that he had been speaking truthfully the entire time and attacked the wall forcing the present Iron Lords to defend themselves. In the end the riot was quelled and order restored, but with the loss of Morgan the faction had lost the source of visions of the future leaving many to find a new purpose. A few however remained fanatical to the belief that seeing into the future was the key to the survival of humanity and would continue in their belief until many centuries later when the Future War Cult was founded.  As the Iron Lord wiped another faction clean off the map, Astrid decided it would be better to work with them instead of against them and happily supported their cause. Ironically it was from supporting the Iron Lord that brought down Astrid as the Iron Lords invested the majority of their resources in searching for the long lost technology know as “SIVA”. This quest left the Iron Lords shattered and Astrid’s faction as well. With such a loss the majority of her followers turned on her and cast her out as a false prophet. She was last seen making her way back to the EDZ.  It was shortly after the fall of the Iron Lords that a new individual came to power, calling themselves only “The Speaker” and uniting the survivors into a new governing body.  Realizing that the previous conflicts involving those who claimed to speak on the Traveler’s behalf would undermine his authority, the Speaker sought to expunge any mentions of the other Speaker’s from records and despite those who had survived the war continuing to tell the events verbally, over the centuries the events faded to all but legend.  

[thehumanplauge]

The Invisible Man (Introduction)

The early nineties in Brisbane, Australia, were not unlike many other cities around the world at that time. The dance scene was kicking off, and the drugs followed like a flood to a parched field.

We had suffered under a type of dictatorship, as the Premier of Queensland, Sir Joh Bjelke Petersen had drawn lines around our state, creating a gerrymander that saw him cling to power for seventeen years, despite the majority of people voting against him.

Bands like The Saints (with their track 'Stranded'), and later Razar (Task Force...Undercover Cop), were considered by Joh to be an affront to society, to be stamped out at any cost. And Joh's Task Force...his personal army, made up of the biggest and hardest cops, made sure anyone who attended such events would learn how jackboots and truncheon could descend upon the innocent.                                                                        

In the years that followed, the bands and punters became less fearful. Joh had other problems to deal with (charged with perjury over evidence he gave to the Fitzgerald inquiry).  

Sydney was no longer the place for up and comers to relocate, for a chance to make their art into a living. Clubs would open and then close down, as the youth who patronised these places saw new and more exciting venues on the flyers that adorned the street corner light poles and billboards around the city.                                             

As is the way with youth, change was on the horizon when, in the early nineties, I attended my first dance party. For me, dance and disco had always been my guilty pleasure. Songs like 'Dancing Queen' (ABBA) and 'I Feel Love' (Donna Summer), or anything that had a repetitive beat, were shunned by my rock and alternative friends.

So, with a backpack over my shoulder and a head full of speed, I approached the sound of my future...doof doof doof, and I was still hundreds of meters away. Louder and louder until I stood outside 'The Arena' in Brisbane's Fortitude Valley. There I felt an energy I never had at any of the rock concerts I had always known.

Hundreds were milling outside the entrance (the baggy pants, bright fluro and pastels...I must have stuck out like a sore thumb). I thought it would take me forever to get inside, but most were not waiting to get in, they were getting some air or cooling down, smoking cigarettes and waiting for friends or dealers to show up.  

I made my way to the entrance, paid the pretty girl who looked like a happy monster fairy the twenty-five dollar cover charge, and with no idea what awaited me behind those doors walked through...and was instantly transported to another universe.                                                                                                              

I had never heard music so loud, or seen more smiling faces. The clubs where the black T's and sad faces had been all I knew, were now a thing of my past, as I watched two mini-skirted young girls dancing on a tabletop, smiling at my open jaw.  

"Why were they not seeing right through me?", I thought, as had happened so often in my previous life. Looking behind me to see who they were smiling at, and then back...they would have guessed that I wasn't from around those parts. But their smiles were the warm welcome I had been waiting for my entire adult life.

There was no click in the room that night, just a couple of thousand ravers, off their heads on MDMA or other similar intoxicants. Dancing and smiling, leaving behind the problems of the world just outside...yet a universe away. And as I made my way to the dance floor, I had not an inkling of what the next ten years were to bring.

[avani008]

The Ladies of Indian History Challenge!

In yet another crazy challenge for myself, I’ve decided to push myself to actually try and write historical fiction! Here’s how it works: here are ten prompts based on 100_women’s tables (which can be found HERE, and are really awesome and recommended for use).

You: send me a woman from Indian history ( my history tag has many many suggestions if you don’t know where to start!) as well as one of these prompts.

I : am embarrassingly grateful and write something based on it for you! :D

Sanctuary,  Latika Nath for @mayavanavihariniharini

The world is quiet here, nestled between trees, the cry of parakeets and rustle of pythons the only accompaniment of a tiger's tread. She has learned to live here, with no weapon but wit and wisdom to defend her, to leave the pettiness of the everyday behind. It was not so difficult as some believe; but then again, not so easy, either. 

When she stands before the government, she argues the need for sanctuary to protect those animals that cannot speak for themselves; when she stands before herself alone, she argues the need for sanctuary to protect her own soul.

Mild, Ahilyabai Holkar for @mayavanavihariniharini

Her future father-in-law encounters her at a temple service, one he attends only disinterestedly. It is a long way to Malwa, after all, and the horses need rest--and praying for the Lord's favor is no poor choice for the traveler who passes along dangerous roads. He notices her for her extraordinary patience, standing wordless for hours on end, and begins to make inquiries.

Later, his second-in-command asks: "Do you seek her for your son because she is mild? Or obedient?"

Malhar Rao shakes his head. "Not that," he says, "but the promise that someday she might prove quite the opposite."

Fierce, Kadambini Ganguly, for @mayavanavihariniharini

One does not become the first female university graduate of the British Empire by timidity, but there is a fire that burns within Kadambini that surpasses even the world’s conventional stubbornness. She wants to strive more, to struggle and succeed against all odds: to see the old boundaries broken and useless behind her.  

She might stay behind, and become a lecturer like her colleague Chandramukhi; or succumb to society’s decrees and mind her household as a conventional woman. She might—she might—She might not.

Her application for medical college is completed, and accepted against all odds; the world awaits.

Time, Kashibai Bajirao Ballad, for @ekdesichokari

He who laughs last laughs best, Kashi believes, and in that is her downfall.

When her mother-in-law hisses with rage at Bajirao’s new wife, Kashi remains serene. Even when the world erupts with disapproving whispers at Mastani Bai’s religion, Kashi ignores them. One day, the whispers will be gone, and the anger, too. Until then, she can wait.

Except —except things go wrong. Bajirao falls ill, Mastani follows him even into death, and only Kashi is left. Time might have been on her side once, but has since betrayed her.

She laughs now, and the sound is bitter.

Comeback, Neerja Bhanot, for @allegoriesinmediasres​

Come back, says her mother; like any obedient daughter, she always wants to comply.

She came back every day after school, prepared to eat sweets and tease her siblings and kiss her parents hello.

She came back after the disastrous marriage in Dubai, heart heavy but not broken, head still resolutely held high.

She came back every flight before, suitcases laden with souvenirs, her smiling lips brimming with stories of her adventures.

She wants to come back now, too.

But there is a plane full of people whose loved ones also want them to return. She cannot forget her duty.

Veil, Jhalkaribai, for @chaanv​

When she agrees to become her Queen’s shadow, Jhalkari does not realize what it means.

Oh, Lakshmibai is gracious and gentle and good, the blazing hope of all Jhansi, and when she goes to war, they all cannot help but follow: the women’s regiments, the nurses, those who sacrifice even jewelry, and Jhalkari, who volunteers to serve as decoy.

She stays behind so her Queen can escape; she diverts the enemy’s gaze at her own peril.

All this and more she gives gladly, only—

Only she wishes she had known it comes at the cost of being veiled to history.

Pride, Kittur Chennamma for @mayavanavihariniharini

"A Queen," murmur her parents with satisfaction; "Mother to a fine son," sighs her husband. All of these are reasons why the world thinks she ought to be content with all she achieved, but Chennamma's heart always aches for more.

Perhaps it is punishment that she loses them all: husband to old age, son to sickness, kingdom to the British. Lord Yama is known to be just, and sickness knows no rank--but the British have no rights. She will not let them have her dominion. 

"We attack in the morning," she decrees--and feels pride in herself for the first time.

Pathos, Rukmini Devi Arundale for @mayavanavihariniharini

Married to a foreigner, and nearly twice her age at that; friends with a Russian dancer, and surrounded by Theosophists, Rukmini is already no stranger to scandal. Clearly that what draws her to an art meant to be the legacy of another, shunned by her friends. "Too old to be trained," her teachers remark sadly when they learn she is thirty, and Rukmini hears only one more expectation to defy. 

Or so she tells the world.

But when, in dance, she depicts Sita's loneliness and Draupadi's despair-- when she need not show herself always, always unafraid--then Rukmini feels most herself.

Human, Savitribai Phule for @mayavanavihariniharini

At times she tires. Her mouth dries when she conducts lesson after lesson at her school for girls. Her lungs keep a constant cough, the result of hours spent at the hospital. Her bones ache when she trudges to protest the conditions of those condemned only by caste; her clothes are constantly ruined by the dung and fruits flung by her angry neighbors.

The less said of her in-laws' insults, the better.

But then she studies the faces of those who come to her: only human, no matter what anyone else says, and knows she can never--will never--stop helping them.

Writer's Choice, Nur Jahan for @parlegee

When he teaches her to shoot, her husband is surprised enough at her talent to say, “A pity you are a woman”; and then, face splitting into a flirtatious smile, adds: “Or perhaps not.”

Mehrunissa laughed then, but privately she agrees. A man would not have flirt and flatter to be invited on Prince Salim’s tiger hunt; a man would not have to hide behind gauzy curtains for propriety’s sake.

Despite these disadvantages, four gunshots sound from the lady’s pavilion; six tigers fall dead.

Prince Salim nearly drops his musket with surprise; Sher Afgan swears under his breath.

Mehrunissa smiles.

[reyridinghood]

How about 2, Royal AU, & 53, Mutual pining, for Reylo? :)

The Royal Treatment, Part II

No warnings apply! Ao3 Link

Rey adjusted her hat to shield her from the bright Alderaanian sun that was beating down on the bright green fields, the picturesque mountains framing the bright green grass of the polo field as the cluster of horses sped past the tents. Prince Ben - as she now knew him - was deep in concentration as he whacked the ball away from Prince Armitage of Arkanis and to Lord Dameron for a goal that tied up the two teams. Both princes were brilliant strategists and it was a thrilling battle of wits to watch the leaders square off in a game that had been neck and neck the entire time. The match was nearing its end now, and most people’s eyes were glued to the action. Rey’s eyes, however, wouldn’t leave Prince Ben.

He was a fine specimen of a man, finer than she had ever known. Wisps of raven hair peeked out from under his helmet, and the blue and gold colors of the Alderaan Royal House complimented him unbelievably well. She adored watching him play, though she herself had always been more of a show jumper. In addition to the handsome scowl it brought to his face, the way he twisted and turned and commanded his horse showed off every taught muscle in his body - but especially those of his thighs, their thickness and strength only accentuated by the high boots and tight white breeches.

Oh no. She thought to herself. Not staring at him. Not again.

This was a trap she fell into often since commencing a friendship with the Prince of Alderaan. After narrowly avoiding a media circus being brought to her small town of Niima, Ben had wrote to her to thank her for the book and allow him to make it up to her. He had more than done so, inviting her to stay as a guest of the royal family and attend teas, galas, and various other social events. She’d stare at him no matter what he was doing, no matter what he was wearing, no matter who he was with. He was just so handsome, and kind, and generous with people, despite the enormous amount of pressure he was under and the emotional toll it could take on him. Rey would console him through his personal ups and downs, and that made them grow close. Closer than Rey cared to admit.

Ben was her friend. She couldn’t take advantage of him like that. Even if a small kingdom on the French and German border that he was destined to be in charge of wasn’t part of the equation.

She pulled her eyes to Lord Dameron, working hard at trying to score, and Sir Finn, who was an excellent defensive. Yet her eyes kept drifting towards the prince, looking tall and regal and staring right at her as their eyes met. He flashed a smile at her, with a slight nod of the head, and she returned it with a feverish blush that she prayed he couldn’t see from that distance.

It was at that moment that Prince Armitage swooped in and stole the ball away from Ben, whacking it towards Lord Mitaka, who fumbled a bit. The two princes were now engaged in a battle to see who could claim the ball first as the clock ran out, but Ben’s horse wasn’t quite fast enough, allowing his rival to once again pass the ball to Mitaka. Arkanis had scored the winning goal, and Rey and Ben’s moment had just cost Alderaan the match.

She wanted to run and hide knowing her staring had distracted him, that the other nobles would consider her the bane of their existence, that they would shun her from court and convince the prince that she wasn’t worthy of being friends with. But no one seemed to notice as the press and courtiers flooded the field in a jolly manner to have their time of notoriety with His Royal Highness. He seemed to be scanning the crowd, using his height to his advantage as he ignored the groups of people, but what he was searching for, Rey couldn’t tell.

She elected to stay behind under the shadows of the tents in solitude while the disappointment of the loss passed. Her plan would have worked had it not been for one very eager friend of hers seeking her out.

“You should tell him.” Miss Rose Tico, her right-hand woman back on the Tuanal Manor Estate said, with her arms impatiently crossed.

Rey’s expression was blank, but the shakiness of her breath betrayed her true emotion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on. ” Rose rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Everyone has seen the way he looks at you. I’m surprised there isn’t more gossip about you two in the papers. I know Lord Dameron has a betting pool on when you two will get engaged.”

Rey scoffed. “His Royal Highness isn’t busy wooing the Hapan Chumeda or the Princess of Naboo or the Grand Duchess of Mandalore?”

“Are you daft, Rey?” Rose said, utterly gobsmacked. “Everyone knows those meetings were absolute disasters because the eligible bachelorettes knew about his affection for you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Your moment ten minutes ago wasn’t seeing it enough for you?”

Rey could feel the flush returning again and veered the subject away from that. “I don’t have what they could offer him.”

“Do you forget you have a title?”

“Vicountess of Jakku is a British title. And besides, I don’t have money to go along with that title.”

“Neither do either of them if their country’s treasury doesn’t approve their spending. And they aren’t Alderaanian so you’re even.”

“I don’t speak German.”

“You could always learn? Always? Plenty of time for that? You have French and English down marvelously, two out of three of the official languages is a good place to start.“

“Well then I’m just not-”

“Enough?” Rose threw her hands up in the air. “Don’t start with that talk, My Lady. Just because you haven’t lived a traditionally royal lifestyle that doesn’t mean you aren’t clever or sophisticated or exceptionally beautiful. I’m sure His Highness thinks you’re refreshing. We all do, but him especially. He cares about you, Rey, and even if he doesn’t have feelings for you, you still should tell him to clear the air - although trust me, he reciprocates.”

Rey loathed to admit it, but Rose was right. She had to tell him, but she could see him be absolutely mobbed by the crowds.

“Rose, how do you think I should go about getting him alone?”

Rey couldn’t help but fidget as she waited in the Royal Stables, pacing back and forth, smoothing the ends of her skirt as she went over what she was going to say in her head over and over again.

“Lady Rey?” A deep baritone inquired as the very object of her affection came up behind her, the clip clop of his horse’s hooves accompanying them.

Alright, maybe they wouldn’t be completely alone, but at least there would be no other humans around.

“I missed you after the match today.” He said with a soft smile, wisps of his dark hair curling down over his forehead and framing his gorgeous golden brown eyes. “Let me just put D’Artagnan in his stall and we can chat, alright?”

She nodded, still unable to find her voice somehow. All she could do was watch as Ben pulled the chocolate brown steed into his quarters, gingerly patting him for a job well done and leaving some fresh treats in his trough before locking up for the night.

“Now, what was it you wanted to discuss?” He leaned on the stable wall to meet her height a little more, but the fact that he still towered over here made Rey want to melt on the spot.

“I-I wanted to apologize for distracting you during the match today. I’m afraid I cost us the win.”

“What?” He chuckled. “No, no. Please don’t worry. It was a charity match, the only winners are those in need who benefit from the proceedings. Though Armitage would tell you otherwise. He is insufferable when he loses, so I would say it worked out the best way possible for everyone.”

Rey giggled at that, and he continued speaking. “Though you are quite the distracting presence…”

His eyes locked with hers, and once again she felt herself entranced by their whiskey brown color. It was hard to decide if the minutes they passed drinking in the sight of each other were agonizing or pleasurable, but Rey had to break the silence all the same.

“I should tell you something.” They said, nearly at the same time, before the Prince deferred to her in a gentlemanly fashion.

She stood up a little straighter. “You’ve been so kind to me in these past few months, Your Highness.”

“Ben.” He corrected. “It’s always Ben to you, My Lady.”

“Right…Ben.” She hadn’t truly called him that since they first met while he was incognito, but she liked the sound of it and how it felt on her tongue, how it sounded in her own voice. “I have come to greatly enjoy our camaraderie, and your hospitality at the palace has been unparalleled to any I’ve known. But I find myself…thinking of you. All the time. Wherever I go, whatever I do. And I can’t stop myself.”

“Really?” He replied. “Do that many things remind you of me?”

“Yes. No. Possibly? I have enjoyed myself immensely in your company, Ben. Yet I can’t help wonder what it would be like if we were to…become…involved… romantically. You see, I’ve developed - mmm!”

She could do nothing but let out a little squeal as Ben’s one hand cradled the back of her neck, the other her waist as he pulled her towards him, sealing their lips in a kiss. One that made her head spin, left her in a dreamlike state with its soft and gentle nature. It was chaste, but comforting and caressing all at the same time.

“I’m sorry.” He said, bashful as he pulled back. “That was um…”

“Perfect.” She finished. “Don’t apologize for giving me what I was hoping for.”

He chuckled. “Good, good. Because this brings me to what I was about to ask you. Lady Rey, you seem to be aware of all that goes with this life, but despite all the trappings and trials of royal life, would you be willing to acknowledge your feelings for me and enter into a courtship?”

She was still a bit breathless from the kiss, but even more so from this proposal. “Of course.” She breathed.

“Excellent. I’ve been wanting to ask you since I first laid eyes on you in the bookshop but…I had no idea if you returned my feelings. Or wanted any of this lifestyle, I know it’s a lot to handle.”

“I don’t care about the lifestyle.” Rey responded, cradling his cheek. “I only want you. And whatever that brings with it I’m willing to brave.”

He gently took her hand off his face and brought it to his lips, kissing it reverently before entwining their fingers together. “Thank you. You’re the strongest person I know, Rey. I wouldn’t be the ruler-to-be I am today were it not for you.”

She snuggled into his side as they began walking. “You’re plenty strong on your own, Solo. Or is it Skywalker? Or Organa? You have so many middle and last names it’s hard to keep track.”

He chuckled. “You can choose whatever combination of names you want. But just know that Benjamin Lucas Anakin Organa Solo, of House Skywalker, is yours completely.”

[shystoryrebel]

LOST WITH THE WAVES

(1)

It happens only with dreamy Indians. Children are the happy dreams of their parents. To fulfill their dreams, I had obtained B.Tech., degree in Computer Engineering, from I.I.T... After B.Tech. I acquired masters’ degree in Management from I.I.M... After working for few years in India, like any other Indian, I joined a multinational company in USA.

America is now treated as a dream country especially in India. It is the cherished dream of every Indian to touch the soil of that dreamy land, the land of braves, patriots and vast opportunities. Americans are born with three Ts in their mind; TRY---for better future; TRUE---To your nation, religion and work; TRUST---in God and self. So in my case also that long cherished dream had come true. My parents were very happy on this achievement.

Every entry point has an exit point, so I resolved to make my exit from my dear motherland to enter into the land of dreams as a wonderful experience, with lots of joys and graceful achievements. Here at last I reached a place where I truly deserved and where my merit and talent has got respect. Here I saw a beautiful world, waiting for me. I decided to walk with an aim. Bubbling with happiness and confidence I planned to stay in this country for about five years in which time I hoped to earn enough money to settle down

comfortably back home in India.

We belong to a Brahman priestly family. But my father did not have any interest in our traditional profession because in our country it was almost a

(2)

secular and intellectual fashion to abuse and curse Brahmans and Brahman priests. In some states like Jammu & Kashmir and Tamilnadu, Brahmans are treated worse than slaves and animals. He generally used to recite this poem;

BRAND NAME

God send me on the earth, an innocent being,

Untouched by the black and white doing,

But the world branded me as a Brahmin,

And a curse fallen on this urchin,

A child of lesser God,

The entire honor was forbidden to this pod.

Education, help, livelihood;

All was snatched by Robin Hood,

Some branded it as social equality,

But it was state cruelty,

Others’ called it secular passion,

But it was ugly repression,

All the isms kill human rights,

They are the Janus face of racial might.

As a result of this scenario my father preferred to be a teacher. As honesty, hard work, patriotism and Sanskars were in his blood which he inherited from his parents. He could not do much for his family and his economic condition remained grim through out his life. Only after his retirement he could purchase an ordinary one bedroom flat in a slum type locality. More over he had to pay hefty bribe to government babus to get his day today work done in government offices. Even still he has to pay bribe to get his PF and other dues cleared and get his monthly pension from the same department which he served for thirty five years. But ambitions could not touch him. He believed in,” When nails are growing, we cut nails, when ambition is growing; we cut ambition but maintains relations and character.

I wanted to do much more than my nationalist father. I wanted to earn and earn like secular leaders of the country. But in AmericaI could not adjust comfortably and started homesick and lonely as the time passed. My patriotism and love to my roots always troubled me there on the foreign soil. Moreover in America, Indians were not treated respectfully. As upper castes Hindus are insulted and abused in India, in the same manner Indians are treated in America as a community who are there only to mint fast bucks only,

come what way. There too I saw each heart had pain, only the way of

expressions were different; some hide it in tears in their eyes while others’ hide it behind their beguiling smile.

(3)

I used to call my parents almost once a week using low cost international phone sim cards. In this manner three years passed and my contract with my employer was over but my employer extended my contract for another three

years as in Americaperson is recognized by merit, talent and work where as in India quota castes, minority religion, language and region are recognized and not the merit, talent and work.

Another one year passed on burgers, pizzas, chowmin, potato chilies etc... Years and months passed, watching foreign currency rates and getting happier whenever the value of Indian rupee went down. One thing I learnt from Americans that getting upset would not help. Always getting up, to set the things right.

The problem of marriage always was a big issue for my aging parents. Finally I decided to get married and gave nod and told my parents that I had

only ten days of holidays and everything must have to be settled down within these ten, very important ten days of my life. I got my ticket booked to Indiain the cheapest economic class. I was on seventh cloud and was actually trying to purchase gifts from the cheap duty free shops, for all my relatives and friends back home. If I fail to do follow this custom, there will be talks because in India it is believed, if one is in America, he must be rolling in money. Right from the babu at the airport to the dancing terror eunuchs, this great Indialoot is a part of life.

After reaching India, I spent some time at home with my parents. All the time we all were involved scanning photographs of girls and as the time was very short I was almost forced to select a girl as my future life partner. Bride’s side was in much more hurry as they did not want to let out this America settled son-in-law. They told that I had to get married within three-four days. After the marriage, my departure time to U.S.A.was very close. After giving some money to my parents I again had to leave Indiaand requesting my relatives and neighbor friends to look after my parents. We both returned to U.S.A.

In the beginning my wife was very happy in America and she enjoyed her stay here. But after some time she started feeling lonely. Her frequency of calling her parents, back home in Indiaincreased and sometimes almost everyday. As a result of her extravagant nature my savings started vanishing rapidly. I tried to get some job for her but I failed and could not arrange a job for her. She used to receive wise upbraiding from her parents especially from

her mother every day. In my case it was very true, “If the first button of your shirt is wrongly stitched, all the rest will definitely be crooked. So always be careful on your first step, success will automatically follow you”.

(4)

Although she was Ph.D from Gazab Singh University, India, but to my horror I came to know that she was not capable even to write a letter. All her degrees were almost manipulated through corrupt methods. Her father was a judge and her mother was a professor in Gazab Singh University, India. She boosts of guiding forty five, Ph.D.s to her credit, through lifting, scissoring and pasting methods. This university was notoriously famous for selling fake degrees.

In this way two more years passed, and we were blessed with two lovely kids, a daughter Ganga and a son Brahmputra. Every time I rung to my parents, they asked me to come to Indiaso that they could see their grand children before their eyes are closed for ever. But work pressure coupled with difficult monetary conditions, I could not visit India. Months and years passed and visiting India to see my aging parents was a distant dream.

Then one day at around mid-night, my phone rang and I got a message that my father was seriously ill. I tried to get leaves but failed to get the leaves sanctioned, to go to India. The next message I got was the death of my father. As there was no one to perform the last rites, the close relatives helped by the neighbors performed the last rites.

The death of my father shattered me and I was badly depressed. My father passed away without had a glimpse of his grand children.

One day he came to me to meet me in my dream and cried at me:

MY FATHER AND THE CURSE OF MY NATION

I

I heard my heavenly father, last night,

What is your dear nation’s curse? Write

And throw it beyond Himalayas, high,

I trembled, collecting my father’s sigh.

I can’t do, my dear father!

There are many curse but ask my brother.

I am pressed by love and patriotism.

The voice shouted to shun hypnotism.

My father’s word in mind,

Generated radiant and vigor in side.

(5)

II

Tender little hands of children begging in streets,

Brutal and intoxicated fathers musing in fleets.

Donors giving through misty doors,

This is unknown to fair floors.

For right of freedom, this crowns,

The rogues as lords in Parliament frown.

Tears in eyes, I cried, patriotism means,

Self interest, corruption and rotten dreams.

As honest and intelligent have lost their claim,

Corrupt touching glory and nation in drain.

III

Secular cry breeding fanatic name,

Social justice prospering caste chain,

Tainted rulers dance while enemy conspire,

Brave soldiers are fried on crying pyre,

Jihadi killers dance while innocent cry,

Bloody red hidden in white to rob every pie,

Alter decorated with anarchic laws,

To strangulate the weak and just with claws,

There my father cried in terse,

Shall thou write my nation’s curse?

IV

Now modern women have only know,

To cheat hearts with tears false below

And swap bed every day and night,

Every right is wrong and wrong right.

Framed racial and communal laws,

To bestow trump powers to our foes,

Here wise man choose to silence,

And fools throw tantrums on their glance,

Where unmerited groups laugh at your gate,

Merit is scorned and measured without weight.

V

As you turn your body to side,

Met with foul tradition and conscience tide,

Power shines with mirth deadlier best,

All this I wrote to mourn the test.

This is the curse, open to all to read,

Go with ill doers, my father cried

And furl your flag with sick brewers,

Now cannot be changed a new,

Six decades of ill governance,

Has dried and sucked all fragrance.

(6)

VI

With heart sinking and tears in eyes,

Death can change this entire fry,

Otherwise rot will go on,

With all my blessings to you to worn,

Saddened to leave you alone here,

As I cannot be no more with you there,

Left crying in a cruel winter evening,

Twenty years have passed by mourning,

His sudden march to the kingdom of death,

Left we orphaned as a traveler without sheath.

VII

That mighty soul, sober, cool and austere,

Must be shining in some unknown sphere,

Enjoyed his shadow as wise banyan keeps boughs under,

Here he was to beat the storms and not to flounder,

Helping and guiding the masses in need,

With a happy and honest hand indeed,

True servant of Almighty in this world wild,

Goddess Saraswati seated on tongue with message mild,

Such souls loved and needed in ages all abound,

Pray to Master to reincarnate him again around.

Three, four years passed. I decided to return to Indiaand to settle down there. This decision was not appreciated by my children but my wife was very happy on this decision. I started to look for a good and affordable property. But now here Dr. Man Mohan Singh was the Prime Minister and to my shock my savings and pocket were much short and the price of property gone up very high during all these years. I had to again return to the USA.

But this time my wife was very intelligently tutored by her mother. She was not ready to come back to USAwith me nor was ready to live with my aged mother. On the other hand I and my children were not ready to live in India under these circumstances. I, with my two children returned to USA after promising my mother and wife to come back within three years. Every thing about our future was uncertain but God has arranged every thing for our tomorrow. You just have to trust Him. He grants us the power to accept things you cannot change.

Time passed by and my daughter decided to get married to an American on her own. Neither due to financial constrains, my wife nor could my mother join us to bless our daughter. My son was happy living in USA because he was very comfortable with American life style. Suddenly I received the news of the death of my mother due to heart failure.

(7)

Now I was fed up with this type of life. It was enough and decided to wound up every thing and returned to India. Relationship is like fragrance, you can never touch it but you feel it. Now I had just enough money to buy a decent three room flat in a posh colony in India.

With this vagabond type of life I became sixty years old. Beaten from all sides I became highly religious and a regular visitor to the near by temple. My faithful wife was still living with her parents. She was not ready to leave me nor was ready to leave her parents. I was a cash card to her and her family. As her father was a judge he knew the hazards of filing and settling divorce cases. So my wife was happy living as a married lady but her parents’ daughter, financing her rogue brother by the money I used to send

her as a peace package. She was like Stephen Blackpool’s wife in Charles Dickens’ Hard Times:

TRUANT DAUGHTER IN LAW

Always play truant and abhors all in laws,

A knotty bride, slamming doors,

A perverse father’s tricky daughter,

Floats in muddy and shallow water.

Guided and guarded by,

Inhuman Taliban laws,

Branding man’s race,

As savage and subhuman.

Men in khaki and gown black,

Are suitors dear?

But never gave respect to,

Her elder in laws.

Rude and twisted to caring in laws,

Direct from honeymoon cracked

Whips on these helpless fellows.

At school her report card noted as spoiled child.

Decked and jacked in false glitters,

Children she mothered,

Narrate tales awful and deadly,

Never taught children with milky hymns.

Children never impressed by her dear mother,

But never learnt to slam the door.

Her funeral was performed sacredly,

Mentioned her virtues in tone false.

(8)

But all and sundry present there,

Dwelled her vices in hushed detail,

She was a bandit queen,

In garb of bridal make up.

Again another mishap happened in my life. Papa’s daughter, but my faithful wife also left me high and dry and gone to the last abode from where no body returns. Now I started wondering the meaning of life. Is it worth all this? My father, even after staying in this country as a poor teacher, had a house to his name but he never was alone. I too have the same, nothing more. But I have lost every thing, my parents, my wife, my children, my mental peace and near and dear ones. Life is like onion which has many layers of relationships. If you do not cut it adds taste to life but if you cut it, you will get tears only.

Looking out from the balcony I see a lot of boys and girls riding on bikes and dancing. This modernization and liberty has spoiled our new generation and these children have no values in life. I get occasional greeting cards from my children on different days. I wanted to cry, I wanted to hug some one dear, but no dear ones were around. You cannot hug yourself, you cannot cry on your own shoulder; perhaps life is all about for living others. So live with those who love you, not with those whom you love. World’s happiest relations never have the same nature. They just have the best understanding of their difference, which we missed in our life.

Now perhaps I will also die and my neighbors again will be performing my last rites. God bless them. At least this one thing is still there that at least last rites are performed with full honors. But again the question remained unanswered, is life all this worth? A failed son, who could not serve his parents, when they need him most, a failed husband, who could not be with his wife, a failed father, who could not continue the legacy of a family…and a failed Indian who could not serve his nation. Whatever life throws at us: it will be easier to comfort if we feel loved.

My children and the grand children will not realize this pain and pain of losing my culture for ever and for ever-----is it really worth so many souls alienated. On a one fateful morning I was reading the divine Bhagavad Gita. My phone rang. From the other side I was overwhelmed to listen the sweet voice of my dear son, hello papa, can you give me an appointment to bless your grand child, mothered by a close friend of mine, means born out of wed lock.

Shocked, I sank into the chair on which my father used to sit and teach. Slowly and slowly darkness gripped me, perhaps I shall never be able to give an appointment to bless my grand child and its mother. But my question remained unanswered; was life worth this? With this I lost somewhere and sagged down.

📷

etad yonīni bhūtāni sarvānī’ty upadhāraya

aham krtsnasya jagatab prabhavah pralayas tathā

Know that all beings have their birth in this. I am the origin of all in this world and its dissolution as well. All things are dissolved in me.

(The Bhagavad Gita, Ch.VII. Sl.-6 (Trans.))

[newstfionline]

Friday, March 19, 2021

Asian anxiety about Atlanta shootings (NYT) The slaying of six Asian women among eight people killed in shootings at three Atlanta-area spas on Tuesday left Asian communities in many Western countries shaken, after a year that has seen a spike in racist attacks and threats against people of Asian descent. The South Korean Foreign Ministry said Wednesday that four people of Korean descent were among the victims. U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken, who was already in Seoul on a diplomatic trip, said Wednesday that he was “horrified by this violence” and offered “deepest condolences to the families and friends” of the victims.

IRS will delay tax filing due date until May 17 (AP) Americans will be getting extra time to prepare their taxes. The Internal Revenue Service says it’s delaying the traditional tax filing deadline from April 15 until May 17. The IRS announced the decision Wednesday and said it would provide further guidance in the coming days. The move provides more breathing room for taxpayers and the IRS alike to cope with changes brought on by the pandemic. The decision postpones when individual taxpayers must file their return and when their payment is due. The IRS said taxpayers who owe money would not face any further penalties or interest if they pay by May 17. The new deadline also applies to individuals who pay self-employment tax.

Troubled US-China ties face new test in Alaska meeting (AP) The United States and China will face a new test in their increasingly troubled relations when top officials from both countries meet in Alaska. Ties between the world’s two largest economies have been torn for years and the Biden administration has yet to signal it’s ready or willing to back down on the hard-line stances taken under President Donald Trump. Nor has China signaled it’s prepared to ease the pressure it has brought to bear. Thus, the stage is set for a contentious first face-to-face meeting Thursday. Difficult discussions are anticipated over trade, human rights in Tibet, Hong Kong, China’s western Xinjiang region, Taiwan, Chinese assertiveness in the South China Sea, and the coronavirus pandemic. Just a day before the meeting, the U.S. announced new sanctions on officials over China’s crackdown on pro-democracy advocates in Hong Kong. In response, the Chinese stepped up their rhetoric opposing U.S. interference in domestic affairs.

Cycle of retribution takes Bolivia’s ex-president from palace to prison cell (The Guardian) It was November 2019, just days after Evo Morales had abandoned Bolivia’s presidency and fled into exile, and the country’s newly installed interior minister was making no effort to hide his glee. “Any terrorist should spend the rest of their life in prison,” Arturo Murillo gloated during an interview in his recently occupied chambers, vowing to put the runaway leftist behind bars for the next 30 years. “It’s not about whether you’re an ex-president,” the pugnacious hotelier-turned-politician insisted. “In fact, it’s even worse when it’s an ex-president. An ex-president should be sentenced twice over because people trust in their president.” This week, an ex-president was indeed jailed in Bolivia—but not Morales. Instead, it was Murillo’s former boss, Jeanine Áñez, who found herself languishing in a La Paz prison cell after being seized by security forces early on Saturday. “We’re seeking a 30-year sentence,” Bolivia’s new justice minister, Iván Lima, announced, as Áñez was accused of terrorism and sedition—the very same charges Murillo had levelled at Morales. The imprisonment of Áñez, a Bible-bashing conservative who became interim leader after Morales fled under pressure from the military, was met with jubilation by some. Others, however, described the arrest as an alarming development in an already profoundly divided country.

E.U. unveils vaccine passport plan to enable summer travel (NYT) The European Union on Wednesday launched a closely watched effort to create a joint vaccination passport for its more than 440 million citizens and residents, embarking on a tightrope walk between economic pressures, discrimination fears and concerns over Europe’s slow vaccination progress. Supporters hope the “digital green certificates” will be ready by June, which could help to salvage the European summer tourism season and even serve as a model that could be extended to the United States and other countries. But E.U. countries lag far behind the United States in vaccinations, which has raised concerns that the passport plan could be launched prematurely. The passes are expected to be digital or paper documents for travelers to prove that they have been vaccinated, that they recovered from the virus or recently tested negative for it. In many cases, this could free travelers from quarantine obligations. Those privileges could eventually also apply to Americans or British citizens traveling to continental Europe, given that all vaccines approved in the two countries are also approved for use in the European Union.

Russia recalls its ambassador to the US after Biden says he thinks Putin is a killer (USA Today) Russia has recalled its ambassador to the United States to discuss relations with Washington, a foreign ministry spokeswoman said Wednesday. The move came after President Joe Biden said Russian President Vladimir Putin would “pay a price” for Moscow’s interference in the 2020 U.S. presidential election. In an interview with ABC News, Biden was also asked if he thought Putin is a killer. “I do,” Biden responded. The president did not elaborate on the “killer” question or on what costs the U.S. might impose on Russia over election interference. The diplomatic tiff comes amid rising tensions between Washington and Moscow. On Tuesday, U.S. intelligence officials released a report concluding that Russia tried to denigrate Biden’s candidacy in the 2020 election. The declassified assessment said that Putin authorized the election meddling, which sought to help former president Donald Trump’s re-election bid.

Myanmar construction magnate claims cash payments to Suu Kyi (AP) A Myanmar construction magnate with links to military rulers claimed he personally gave more than half a million dollars in cash to deposed leader Aung San Suu Kyi in a broadcast on state television aimed at discrediting the ousted civilian government. The statement by Maung Waik could pave the way for more serious charges against Suu Kyi, who has been detained since the Feb. 1 military takeover while security forces increasingly use lethal force against a popular uprising demanding the restoration of democratically elected leaders. The military has already tried to implicate Suu Kyi in corruption, alleging she was given $600,000 plus gold bars by a political ally. She and President Win Myint have been charged so far with inciting unrest, possession of walkie-talkies and violating a pandemic order limiting public gatherings.

Myanmar faces growing isolation as military tightens grip (Reuters) Myanmar faced growing isolation on Thursday with increasingly limited internet services and its last private newspaper ceasing publication as the military built a case against ousted elected leader Aung San Suu Kyi. Western countries have condemned the coup and called for an end to the violence and for the release of Suu Kyi and others. Asian neighbours have offered to help find a solution, but the military has a long record of shunning outside pressure. Large parts of an economy already reeling from the novel coronavirus have been paralysed by the protests and a parallel civil disobedience campaign of strikes against military rule, while many foreign investors are reassessing plans. The U.N. food agency warned this week that rising prices of food and fuel could undermine the ability of poor families to feed themselves. “Whatever happens in Myanmar over coming months, the economy will collapse, leaving tens of millions in dire straits and needing urgent protection,” historian and author Thant Myint-U said on Twitter.

Combat Drones Made in China Are Coming to a Conflict Near You (Bloomberg) A dozen years into its fight with the Islamic insurgent group Boko Haram, Nigeria is getting some new weapons: a pair of Wing Loong II drones from China. The deal is one of a growing number of sales by state-owned Aviation Industry Corp. of China (AVIC), which has exported scores of the aircraft. The United Arab Emirates has used AVIC drones in Libya’s civil war, Egypt has attacked rebels in Sinai with them, and Saudi-led troops have deployed them in Yemen. The company’s drones “are now battle-tested,” says Heather Penney, a fellow at the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, a think tank in Arlington, Va. “They’ve been able to feed lessons learned back into their manufacturing.” Nigeria is getting AVIC’s second generation of Wing Loongs—the name means “pterodactyl”—which can fly as fast as 230 mph and as high as 30,000 feet, carrying a payload of a dozen missiles. Since 2015, when AVIC introduced the newer model, it’s produced 50 for export and an unknown number for China’s People’s Liberation Army. And it’s working on even more advanced aircraft, such as a stealth combat drone with a flying-wing design similar to that of the U.S. B-2 bomber. The drone program, combined with deliveries of fighter jets, trainers, transporters, and assault helicopters, has propelled AVIC into the upper ranks of the global arms trade. In 2019 it sold military equipment valued at $22.5 billion, according to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (Sipri), placing it sixth in the world, behind five U.S. companies. AVIC’s drones have two big selling points: They’re cheaper than comparable aircraft from producers in the U.S. or Israel—the other primary manufacturers—and China doesn’t much care how they’re used, says Ulrike Franke, policy fellow at the European Council on Foreign Relations.

As 4th Election Looms, Some Ask: Is Israel’s Democracy Broken? (NYT) Israelis will vote on Tuesday for the fourth time in two years, in a do-over election for a do-over election for a do-over election. The seemingly endless loop is the most prominent symptom of the polarization that has paralyzed Israeli politics since Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu began to be investigated for corruption in 2017. Mr. Netanyahu has refused to resign. That decision has split the country, almost down the middle, and divided voters less by ideology than by their support or antipathy for Mr. Netanyahu. The polarization has been exacerbated by Israel’s multiparty system, which virtually guarantees that no single party will win an outright majority in Parliament, forcing the construction of wobbly coalitions with disparate small parties. Now, even the right-wing coalition that kept Mr. Netanyahu afloat for 12 years has fractured, mainly over question of the acceptability of a prime minister under criminal indictment. In the last three elections, Mr. Netanyahu did not win enough support to form a stable government. But neither did his opponents, which allowed him to remain prime minister, first in a caretaker role, and then, for the past year, as the head of a fragile coalition. Polling suggests that next week’s vote is unlikely to break the deadlock, leading many Israelis to brace for yet a fifth election later this year.

Clubhouse: the new social platform that is frightening Arab regimes (Le Monde) A month ago, the up-and-coming app Clubhouse took the Middle East by storm. In just a few days, the latest gem from Silicon Valley had already earned its place in the crowded market of Arab social networks. Since this audio chat platform only runs on iOS for the moment, its use is restricted to iPhone owners, i.e. the relatively wealthy classes. But in these circles, especially in Egypt and among the ultra-connected youth of the wealthy Gulf States, followers for this new app started to grow rapidly. In these countries where social pressure and official censorship stifle dissenting voices and non-conforming opinions, Clubhouse provides a unique breathing space. In these virtual rooms, where anyone can initiate a discussion on a topic of their choice, or join an ongoing conversation, Arabs are rediscovering a taste for free speech. As the powers that be have not yet found a way to lock down this new network, the three great taboos of the region (sex, politics and religion) are openly discussed. In a sign that the application scares autocrats, the Sultanate of Oman announced on Sunday that the country had blocked Clubhouse, following the footsteps of China, who blocked it in February. In the Emirates, discussions have not been accessible for several days, which is interpreted locally as an act of censorship without saying so openly. Fans of the platform can bypass the jamming with a VPN, but in doing so, they risk breaking the law: The use of such software is strictly codified in the UAE.

Yemeni rebel offensive threatens camps of those who fled war (AP) Already displaced once in Yemen’s grinding civil war, Mohammed Ali Saleh fled with his pregnant wife and their three children to central Marib province last year to seek refuge in a region that has known some relative peace and stability because of well-protected oil fields nearby. But now the fighting is moving toward them again. Iran-backed Houthi rebels are pushing to capture the province from the internationally recognized government to try to complete their control over the northern half of Yemen. If they succeed, the Houthis could claim a strategic win after a largely stalemated battle in almost seven years of fighting. The sounds of war terrify Saleh and his family. “It’s a nightmare we are experiencing every night,” he said from a camp for the displaced that had previously escaped violence.

[localocksmithnearme]

Mercury Grand Marquis Fob Keys And Remote Program San Antonio TX

If you want to repair your car ignition cylinder, want to unlock your car door or trunk, want to duplicate a switch-blade key or need to replace a misplaced transponder key, glancing for an emergency 24hour Mercury Grand Marquis key-smith who is competent to help quickly, you should continue reading those lines. San Antonio Key Replacement hand roadside car lock smith service in San Antonio TX morning noon and night . At present exceedingly all motor vehicles are decked with immobiliser and chipped keys which in point of fact suggests that besides the fact that the key have to be physically cut to match the lock, it also need rightly compiled to the immobiliser. Our thoroughly trained staff members are highly qualified and can program and cut any sort of car key, lock  ignition obstacle, bypassing the towing truck service to the local dealer-ship.

Mercury Grand Marquis keys replacement in San Antonio TX

If you lost all your vehicle keys or broken your ignition key, you have a few possibilities to obtain a newish set of Mercury Grand Marquis key replacement:

Driving to the San Antonio TX regional dealer is in most cases presumably a cost-effective or swift way to form a brand new key by the VIN, but in several episodes (like GM) the dealer-ship want you to obtain a lawful vehicle title or registration with an identical address on the owner ID. In several other occasions, the dealer-ship don't have access to aged key codes by the VIN number (like Mercury, Lincoln and Mazda), the dealership might make recovery keys only for editions from the previous ten years.

As well as the limitation above, in varied experiences, your car is locked on the road in the country-side, with a broken key in the ignition or locked with the key in the truck and to favor the dealer will combine about surplus $100 for the towing truck service.

About Mercury Grand Marquis keylock infrastructure

Mercury vehicle brand was designed by the USA car-maker Ford Motor Company in Dearborn, Michigan. The brand was first marketed in the United States in 1938 as mainstream cars. Since 1996  Mercury designs integrate PATS keys that can be reproduced in a convenient and economical procedure, yet today's designs implement encrypted transponders that has to be programmed to the vehicle adopting a specific diagnostic equipment and if all keys are lost, the vehicle computer unit has to be re-code.

Recent designs beginning from  2007 consistently fitted with the recent stylish Intelligent Access with push-button start keyless entry device with traits as blind spot details, keyless entry and push to start systems.

Ignition switch repair

When the vehicle does not light up, there are a whole lot of malfunctions which may be the reason. Since the combustible infrastructure and vehicle battery are linked to the ignition, the trouble can be wearisome to troubleshoot by an unqualified personal, however following are a few frequent malfunctions, which Mercury Grand Marquis owner may have to confront with.

</p> <h5>ignition key is hard to turn in the ignition</h5> <p> If the ignition key is stiffly turning, it may be for a couple of reasons: Often this occurs when the steering column sized by the ignition with the vehicle front wheels shift aside (when parking up a hill) or when either front wheel is depressed against an object (e.g. sidewalk edge). In this case, try switching the  steering wheel to the sides right and left altogether with lightly jiggling the ignition gripping the key - this might help in releasing the steering wheel.

</p> <h5>Deflated battery</h5> <p> One more typical reason why your ignition lock might break down is a malfunction in the car battery. A dead battery may happens due to alternator failure or electronic wiring. If the lights on the dash board turned off when you turn the key in the ignition, most likely you should call a vehicle mechanic shop.

The ignition lock is remarkably critical part of any car and containing so many tiny detachments that can be wearisome to troubleshoot by an unqualified personal, so the only thing a driver may do confronting ignition cylinder  complications is to double-check you are in fact trying to start up your very own car and ask a vehicle lock man to come out to your place of choice to rekey, replace  repair the key or ignition which will priced as about $145–$349.

Transponder chipped key create

Due to the high rates of car theft two decades ago, practically all automakers since about 1995 adopt electrical keys and locks utilizing VAT, transponder key or PATS keys.

A transponder key provide added security that the regular motor vehicle key don't. In addition to cutting the key, the chip into the key apex should be decoded to sync in with the immobiliser in the car for your car engine to burst.

Recently vehicles are employing electrical locks and key, vehicle larceny was almost shunned, however replacing a stolen and lost key or even simply copying a key requisite reprogramming of the vehicle ECM by a suitable programming machine owned by a locksmith or the dealer, and consequently has become highly costly.  

Mercury Grand Marquis proximity key

Smartkeys are a comprehensive in car user comfort and convenience, you can unlock and lock your car doors and trunk and moreover activating the car – while avoiding inserting the key. You just need to carry it on you, whether in your purse or handbag.

Whenever the car user get close to their car, they’re recognized by a corresponding RF transponder chip located inside the keyless entry device. The car doors and trunk open and unlock when the car user yanks the lock handle. The car activates pushing a push buttons on the dash board. The push buttons is doing the job of the metal blade key by closing the circuit on the engine fuel supply.

Closing the car doors when leaving is just as smooth. The car user simply pushes a keypad on the door handle – several smartkeys even lock automatically as soon as the car user go's out of range.

Copy vs lost car keys

Current Mercury Grand Marquis locks and key platform contains transponder chipped key and motor vehicle immobilized computer and although transponder keys arrive in a selection of switch-blade key, high security, fobic-key and smart-key keys, the main concept behind this mechanism is that the transmitter in the key deliver a message to the immobiliser in the car. If the immobiliser doesn't detect a compatible signal, the fuel supply will subdue and the vehicle will not light up.

Some previous cars keys could be comfortably copied utilizing dash board procedure, yet normally to duplicate an additional key, the transponder inside the key need to be programmed by a suitable programming machine carried by the dealer or a locksmith.

If the key is stolen or lost, the car computer need to be programmed to employ the new key and reject the lost key. This process dispenses a safety measurement assuring the car will forget the stolen or misplaced key. This key programming, instrumentation available solely to a licensed locksmith or the Mercury Grand Marquis dealer, which actually means that you will must call a car lock-smith or haul your car to the dealer.

24hr vehicle lock out

If you’re experiencing the aggravating incident of locking your keys in the car while at your workplace or at the gym, San Antonio Key Replacement speedy car lock out professional staff members are able to arrive at your location in no time to adroitly unlock your car door for any type of Asian, Japanese, European or German vehicle straight-away, get you back inside your vehicle and fetch your tranquility of mind.

Vehicle locks adjusting

San Antonio Key Replacement is illustrious to equip all style of Mercury Grand Marquis refit services at your side to compensate a lost, sacked or ruptured keys. Remarkably all modernized car are furnished with electrical lock and key instrumentation and the operation required to get your lock modified ought to consists of the good coder for the detailed vehicle. Instead of dragging your car to the dealer, just uprear the telephone and call our customer care office in San Antonio TX and one of our car alterating man-power will be with you as early as possible with a itinerant work truck having current key cutters, ignition parts, programmers and blank keys ready to resolve any style of emergency incidences.

To conclude

We are available 24/7 rain or shine snow or sleet with the nimblest nimblest response time in town. If you find that your ignition key wont turn, locked out of your car or need to program a new remote and wish avoid the towing-truck to the dealership, call us at (210)598-8120, give us your model, vehicle producer, year and your address. Our thoroughly furnished emergency workmanship are ready to drive to your juncture hastily replace your ignition switch, duplicate a switch-blade key or a smartkey or open your locked car on-site and help you back into your car straight-away with inexpensive rates. . If you are goggling for Car key replacement service in San Antonio Texas call (210)598-8120 for a reliable local automotive locksmith, who duplicate and replace trunk, door and ignition keys and remote fob made on the spot.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Week Five: Mrs Fitz

The premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night with Jamie?

You can find previous weeks/chapters here.

July 6th, 1743; Claire’s Surgery at Castle Leoch.

My dungeon of a surgery had found another use while I was away, but Mrs Fitz seemed eager for me to return to my duties and cheerfully gave me back my space. She and her small regiment of young women had just finished toting the last of the impedimenta away, leaving me in blissful solitude. The bustle of the kitchens could be heard thru the open doorway and I moved to shut it.

This done, I plodded back to my work table and sat down heavily on the stool.

Why was I so tired?

Traveling about the Scottish Highlands had certainly been taxing to an extent, but we’d returned to Leoch four days ago and I’d had ample time to catch up on sleep. Even if I hadn’t, I was used to operating on minimal sleep for days at a time. I thought I might even thrive on it. A few hours here and there were more than enough to carry me thru the day.

Propping my head in my hands, I slid my eyes shut and tried to pinpoint the cause.

Maybe I had misdiagnosed my nervous stomach.

I hadn’t been ill enough for it to have been full-on food poisoning and no one else fell ill. Even if something I ate had caused the stomach upset four days ago, it would be long out of my system by now.

I mentally shook my head; it wasn’t that.

I certainly could have contracted a virus from the many people I came into contact with in the last week. The flu would explain the vomiting, as well as my residual lack of energy, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the overwhelming feeling of fatigue had started before I had gotten sick.

Fatigue. Nausea. Tender breasts.

No. I can’t be.

Bolting out of my seat, I frantically dug thru the drawer where I kept my daily log. I hadn’t written in it very faithfully, especially while I was on the road, but it was the closest thing I had to a calendar.

My heart raced as I flipped back thru the pages.

I had my courses while traveling, hadn’t I?

I found the ones pertaining to rent collecting and my subsequent marriage, but they had no mention of my monthly visitor.

Hadn’t I?

May 29th, 1743 - Monthly begins.

June 2nd, 1743 - Left Castle Leoch at daybreak. 

I frantically flipped to an empty page and hastily sketched out the days, not wanting to entrust this to mental calculation.

Four weeks would be…

Last week.

It should have started the twenty-sixth of June and it was now the sixth of July, making me ten days late.

I’m never late.

The world seemed to spin around me as I slid against the wall to the floor, curling myself into a tight ball. My heart screamed that I couldn’t be pregnant, that I was simply late and stressed, but the incessant stream of logic in my mind told me that pregnancy was the most probable cause.

I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.

It was at this very moment that the door swung open and Mrs Fitz’s cheery voice greeted me from the entryway, shattering the fragile moment into a hundred different pieces of fear and uncertainty.

“I found ye a wee bit o’–” she stopped suddenly as she came around the corner, “Ach, Claire! Whatever’s the matter, lass?”

Should I tell her? It was really Jamie’s news to hear first.

The very thought of telling Jamie I was pregnant with his child sent me scrambling across the floor in search of something to vomit in. I reached the bucket in time to turn away from Mrs Fitz as I retched. Tears fell from my cheeks, mingling with my stomach contents at the bottom of the bucket.

I heard Mrs Fitz softly pad across the room behind me before she lowered herself to the floor and began to rub soothing circles between my shoulder blades, “Ye dinna have to say a word, lass, I ken just wha’ yer feelin’.”

Oh, she does, does she? She KENS what it feels like to be pregnant by a man who you do not love? To be separated from the one you do?

I must have muttered aloud, for she cheerfully replied, “Oh, aye. I was sick as a dog wi’ all o’ my bairns. Dinna fash, it doesna last forever.”

Wiping my mouth on the hem of my apron, I pushed the bucket aside. Mrs Fitz smiled at me as she reassuringly patted my arm. I made no attempt to smile in return, but instead petitioned, “You won’t speak a word of this, will you?”

“‘Tis yer news to tell, lass.” She waved away my concern, then added, “Jamie must be proud as a peacock, aye?”

Unable to meet her gaze, I answered, “He doesn’t know. Not yet, I mean.”

She took my face in her worn, wrinkled hands and waited to speak until I looked up at her.  Her voice was gentle, without a hint of reprimand. “‘Tis a noble an’ holy thing to bear yer husband’s child, lass, no’ a thing to be ashamed of. Ye’ve given Jamie a great blessing.”

“But I don’t love him,” my throat tightened around the words, unable to fully explain myself. “I can’t, I mean, I still…”

Jamie knew it, but I wasn’t sure that I had ever actually said it out loud.

I still loved Frank.

I gave my body freely to Jamie, my time, my energy, but I could not give him my heart, for it belonged to another.

Her smile wobbled as her eyes grew misty, “I was married twice, myself, lass, an’ I didna love my second husband when we wed. ‘Twas a match arranged by the Laird an’ no’ wha’ I wished, but I did grow to love him in my own way. He was a good man, as is yer Jamie.”

Jamie was a good man. He had promised me the protection of his body and name, a vow he had kept when I put to the test. I knew that, heedless of the cost, he would do whatever it took to ensure that I was safe and cared for.

It wasn’t Jamie’s integrity that I was concerned about, it was what would happen next.

“I ken ye fear wha’ the morrow may bring, but let it be as it may. Dinna waste these precious days of carrying yer bairn by worryin’ over what ye canna change,” Mrs Fitz seemed to read my mind.

Her words rang in my ears like a resounding bell, a single phrase reverberating higher than the rest.

Carrying my child.

It took two to create a child, yes, yet this baby would be mine. He or she would bear their father’s name and maybe his looks, but I would be the one to shelter them within me, to carry them beneath my heart, to give them life even if it cost me my own.

It was in this moment, this hush between the wise and the yearning, that I knew without a doubt that I would love them. Daughter or son, it didn’t matter. A baby of my very own to care for, a child to raise, a legacy to leave behind.

…

After assuring Mrs Fitz that I would be fine and triple checking that the door was bolted behind her, I lay in the bed that was tucked into the corner of my surgery, wrestling with my thoughts. My knees were pulled tight to my chest, my cheeks wet with tears.

Why now? The question circled around and around above my head. I had tried to get pregnant for seven long years, why now?

A conversation I had with Frank right before I left flickered thru my mind. We had been speaking of adoption, of caring for a child who had been orphaned in the war since it seemed we could not have one of our own.

His words haunted me, a cold, icy fist squeezing around my heart.

“I couldn’t feel properly towards a child that was not of my blood.”

What would Frank’s reaction to my return be if I was pregnant with another man’s child? Would he divorce me? Leave me and the child alone in the world? Would I be better off here, in the past with the father of my child, than in the future, shunned by the man that I loved? Or would he support us, all the while holding the shame of my infidelity over my head like a guillotine blade?

There were too many questions, too many scenarios of a future I could not predict.

“Jamie must be proud as a peacock.”

He would be. I knew he would be.

I didn’t doubt that his reaction to my news would be anything but joyful, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that I wasn’t.

I didn’t know exactly what I was, just at the moment, but joyful wasn’t it.

…

A loud pounding woke me some time later. The shadows stretched long and slender across the floor as I sat up and moved slowly towards the door.

“Sassenach?” A voice called between emphatic knocks.

Jamie.

I stopped dead in my tracks, unsure of what to do.

“Claire?” He was quickly becoming concerned, “Are ye alright?”

“Coming!” I called, but made no move to do so.

Do I tell him now? Today? Or should I wait until I’m absolutely sure?

You are sure, a little voice ridiculed me, you just don’t want to admit it.

“If ye dinna come to the door, Sassenach, I’ll–”

Visions of him knocking the door off it’s hinges propelled me forward, quickly letting him in before he gave the castle folk enough gossip-fodder to last until next year.

“Or you’ll what?” I quipped as I stared at his shirt front, trying desperately to act normal.

Jamie shrugged, mumbling something about regretting putting the bolt there in the first place. He shoved his left hand towards me, palm up, as he gestured vaguely to it with his right.

“I, ah, am in need of yer skills,” he supplied.

After leading him to the windows that lined the southern wall and turning his hand this way and that for several minutes, I looked up at him in confusion. “What am I looking for?”

“A sliver, just there.” A blush began at the base of his neck and slowly crept its way up to his ears, turning them a dull pink.

I had to bring his hand right up to my nose to find the speck he was talking about.

“This tiny thing?” I asked incredulously. How a fleck of wood that small made its way thru his thick calluses was beyond me and told him so. “How did you even notice it was there?”

He shifted from foot to foot, smiling slightly as he looked at the floor. “Oh aye, well…”

“You know, you don’t have to come up with an excuse to visit your wife.” I dropped his hand and crossed my arms as I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth, my voice dropping as I teased him. “You can just stop by to say you missed me.”

His head snapped up, a huge grin spreading across his face.

A good man, indeed. …

July 9th, 1743; Castle Leoch

Morning sickness is a lie, I fumed as I heaved into my bucket for the third time today. If only it would bloody stay in the morning. It was almost time for the evening meal and I had no appetite what so ever. In fact, the very thought of enduring another aromatic meal filled with haggis and neeps in the great hall made me gag. The nagging voice came again, You have to tell him. I shoved the thought aside as I rinsed out the bucket and placed it underneath my work table, hidden from view. Out of sight, out of mind...

[namjoonchronicles]

[After Ending] #1  Scarlet Heart: Moon Lovers 3rd Prince - Prince Wang Yo ; [Prince of Thorns]

[A/N] The year is 2017. Will love prevail the test of time, will there finally be an ending to this tragic love? He is perfect have babies with me please Yo is spelings to the old Wang Yo, and Hwang Il Yeo/Yeo is 2017 version. See what I did there?

A lucid dream. The lightning and thunderstorm. The puddle of rain he stood on. A crumbling nation. Water dripping down his fingertips. And in a distant, a frantic call of a name he doesn’t recognize. Soon, the images clarifies and he soon witnessed that the droplets were not water, but blood. Dark ruby red blood running on the puddle he stood on. A war.

“The blood of a noble that runs in your veins!” Uproarious voice thundered through his semi awakeness. “You must return what I’ve taken from them.” A queen in her dramatic Hanbok, rushing through the army of men, marching straight at him. And then a thunderous roar of a name similar like his, only a syllable short. Coming from a men on the white horse, a sword pointed to the sky.

“Wang Yo!” The man said in rage.

Yeo jumped awake in his bed, an unexplainable ringing in his head, his heaving chest, his heart rapidly pumping blood throughout his body. His brains were awfully awake in this dead of night. No, Yeo got a peek of the ravishing ray of sunlight at dawn. It’s dawn. It’s very early in the day.

The young lady lying beside him were sound asleep. She had that glowing porcelain skin and beautiful set of brows, a body like a model, and instagram followers just as impressive. She was magnificent and he’s been told that they made a great couple. And Yeo supposed they did.

Only if Yeo felt the same.

The girl before her was as pretty as she was, heart of gold. Kind and easy on the eyes but for some reason, it didn’t last long because she felt Yeo was not as into the relationship as she was. The day she walked out of his life, she said something so powerful, so honest, that Yeo for the first time in a very long time felt a his heart tugged. “When I look at you, I know that your heart, doesn’t belong to me. You’re still searching for that girl, aren’t you? The girl you shared an umbrella with?”

Yeo was speechless. Did it show on his face? Did he make it so obvious?

He ran his hand down his handsome face, his hair tousled gloriously from a yet another sleepless nights. “Kept dreaming about nonsense, this is getting fairly annoying.” He grumbled as he lifts himself from the bed, leaving the girl behind. He didn’t waste time and stood underneath a shower, letting the water rush through his hair and the thoughts drizzling down where the water pools.

He heard the bathroom door being knocked. “I’ll be out in ten.” He said, water sputtering out his mouth as he frowns, anxious to shoo her off his crib as quickly as he can. “Please don’t cook breakfast.” He chanted in his head. Because it will be difficult to shrug her off. It was meant to be a one night stand but for some reason, she lingers around more than intended and it’s wearing Yeo off.

He walked out of the bathroom, hair still damp from the shower, he saw the bed empty and unmade. That’s alright, the maid will come and have it ready when he comes home from work later. It was the least of his worries. “Off to work already?” She meekly asked, poking her head through the door. Her hair was let down, flowing graciously, the way all boys fantasized the way their dream girlfriends would greet them in the morning. But Yeo’s expression was nothing short of, falsified bliss.

He forced out a stricken smile, as he buttons up his shirt and turned behind his shoulder briefly, “Can’t have breakfast today, got something urgent to attend to. And I’m…” he straps on his wrist watch, and took a brief glance to it, “...considerably. Late.” He walked past this girl and took only a sip of the coffee she made. He lunges to the fridge and take out a protein bar before fastening his cuffs and complete his looks with an expensive grey suit.

“They say, never trust a man in suits,” she snaked her arm low on Yeo’s waist, “I see it’s true.” Yeo peel her arms off and gave a light, dry chuckle before grabbing his car keys from the table and his leather bag, exclaiming, “You know where the door is.” He said and turn his heel, heading outside. No words of affection. Nothing. “She’s going to trash your whole condominium if you don’t change your attitude…” the janitor vacuum the carpeted hallway that Yeo passed through.

“You know girls. They come and go.” Yeo stabbed the elevator’s button, going down. “Nothing in life is permanent. Absolutely nothing.” He said to himself. “Good day, Appraiser Hwang Il Yeo,” the janitor bowed. The elevator dings to its arrival and suited Yeo enters, winking at the janitor as the door leaves closes. “That’s right. I’m Hwang Il Yeo.” He gritted his teeth before turning around to see the breathtaking view from elevator, looking down to the city.

Only the window’s a bit hazy for his liking. He walked out the elevator to slide a quick complaint to the front desk, the concierge. “The windows could use some anti fog wipes, don’t you think? I paid for the views, and it’ll meant nothing if I can’t see a thing, when I’ve paid for it.” He double tapped the desk and the girls there shyly smiled. “We will look into the matter sir.” They bowed as he sprinted away in a fast paced steps.

He slid his arm around the Head Chauffeur of the luxury condominium and greeted him with a good morning in a friendly tone. “I think we’re going to have a great dinner tonight at the ice hockey match. The team has finally looked promising.” He fastens his grip around him as the boy curls, laughing. “When will you learn that Goryeo Wolves team will not have what it takes to beat the Seoul Lions.” The boy giggled as Yeo let go of him and head to his black Mercedes two-seater with a scissor doors and beige leather works on the inside.

“Don’t let the name fool you!” He said as he climbs in. The boy shakes his head Yeo sped off, the engines hurling impressively and the brake lights shunning as he cornered. “Good looks, successful and smart. He must have saved his nation in the past. Some people are just born with it.” The boy sighed helplessly, bowing to the next guest, seeking for his service.

Service. Why do appraisers make so much and yet no one has heard of them? Maybe you’re just in the wrong set of crowd. “How much do they cost?” You meekly asked your friend as you quietly asked her in the library. The books piling up to your nose and the notes are endless. “How much do you need.” She scolded you. You dropped your gaze to the book you were reading. And then you felt her placing her hand on top of yours. “Hey…” she called you, softly.

“You don’t have to do this. We’ll get over this. We can do this together, you don’t have to do this alone, you hear me?” You heard her say and you swore, that those were the most comforting words you have ever heard when your life starts dwindling down. “...You’re doing great.” She added and you could almost feel the tears brimming in your eyes. She gripped your hand tighter and that’s when you just crumbled and she left her seat to kneel beside you as you cried into her shoulders, crouching, “I don’t know what else to do…” you whimpered.

And you gained some attention from other students.

Outside the library, you took out the shoe box that contained a glossy, Oak jewellery box, with a carved dragon on the outside. And then your professor fastens his glasses and took his leather gloves. You were surprised at first because you’ve never held it with a glove before. “How long was this in the family?” He asked as he opened the box, fairly careful. “As long as I’ve known. It was the only heirloom that remained in the family, throughout the war.” You answered what you knew.

Your friend whom you came with were waiting outside, holding your backpack. You smiled at her when she caught your eyes and she grins back. She signed, “Okay?” at you and you nodded. Then she gave a thumbs up.

There’s just so many things to say about it. How the details unfold. The glittering jade dragon that is carved in place and the unpolished gold that fastens the treasure inside, astonished the professor. “Exquisite.” Was what he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. But I’ve recognised a detail similar to it, dating back to Joseon or heck, Goryeo dynasty itself.” The professor opens box to reveal a full golden, hairpin, 15 inches long. A ruby red studded in a form of a flower, surrounded by precious gems and glowing jade.

A true masterpiece of craftsmanship.

“Why do you need an appraiser for this?” The professor asked you, a true curiosity in his face. “To know what it is. And where it’s from.” You said, simply.

You exited the professor’s office and walked with your head down, putting the shoe box in your arms. “And?” Your friend stormed excitedly. You took out a name card. “I have a phone number. He is supposedly very busy but he has a team of other appraisers that could help me, should he be unavailable.” You smiled thinly. Long pause.

“Are you sure?” Your best friend asked.

You were taken completely to the conversation you had with the professor early on. 

“I plan to sell it. There’s no use keeping something that’s valuable when a family member are currently unwell. I could use the money to aid my family. My mother could use it.” You said.

A grim smile on your face mismatched the professors’ serious expression. He tutted his tongue and reclined to his chair, his fingers laced with each other on his tummy. “If you say so.” Then he straightens back up again to reach for something in his drawer. “It is yours to decide what to do with it. But I just hope that you’re doing the right thing. I am unequipped to do the appropriate appraisals for it, but I know who can.” He slides the name card on his desk for you to take.

“...he can a bit busy, very boastful at times, and he usually don’t entertain personal belongings but I hope, if he takes a look at this remarkable piece, he’d give you a chance.” The professor added.

You were snapped back into current time and your best friend just scowled. “Is that a warning? Of all the people he could have recommended, he chose a cocky, no-nonsense one? Is he even a professor?” Your best friends climbs into her car and waited for you to come in. “He probably had a good reason why.” You defended quietly. “It’s probably just a hook to get you giving up or it could be his son that he’s trying to play match maker, on.” She added and insert the key to the initiator.

“His son is an appraiser?” You asked.

Your friend nodded. She proceeds to say that the boy hasn’t been home after finishing his studies in Historical Art in Rome and France. “What son can be away from his parents that long?” You pursed your lips, heavily disagreeing. “His, apparently. Rumor has it that he’s been living with his mother since his parent’s divorced, and another rumor says that he’s actually adopted.” She makes a left turn where the signs show ‘General Hospital of Yonsei University’.

You shut the car door the moment she brakes at the entrance. She reeled down the car window and starts rambling about how you should not be forgetting to eat, or to shower, and to call her if you need anything. And there’s a quick quiz in class tomorrow, and how much she loves you. And then she drives away just a few metres when she brakes suddenly as you were waving her off. She got out of the car and jogged to give you… the name card.

The security guard was already warning her not to leave her car unattended and she shrugs it off, “Just a second. I just need to give her that.” You held the namecard tight in your grip. You smiled gratefully as she drove off, this time, she actually left. You got on the elevator and sighed.

You just knew that you’re going to meet the doctors today. And they’re going to ask the same question they had been asking since you came here with your mother, through the emergency doors. And you don’t know what to say. You’ve ran out of excuses.

You walked out of the elevator with a sullen look, your face grey and unmotivated. You’re hungry and damn tired. But you’re here today. Like every other day. “You’re early today… before noon.” You looked up to see who that raspy voice belongs to and it was Jeong.

“Doctor Jeong!” You faked a smile. Maybe if you smile bright enough he’ll forget what he’s supposed to ask you. Speaking of the devil. “...Have you decided about the surgery?” He didn’t miss a beat in that. Your face quickly sombers down. “I’m not being pesky. But it’ll help if you decide quickly. Before the condition deteriorates.” He rambled. You sighed. “As handsome and young and smart as you are, Wang Su Jeong… you’re not as emphatic as you appear to be.” You said.

“That’s Doctor Wang Su Jeong to you.” He corrected you. You turned around to him and gave him a finger. “What did I just do.” You scolded yourself as you brought yourself into a room and forced a smile to your mother who’s standing by the window. “I just realized that my eyesights are receding. I can’t tell what colour that tree is.” She turned to you. You plopped yourself on her bed. “It has no colour because it has no leaves.” You answered, snapping your head farthest to the back as it could. “Who taught you it was okay to lie to the elders, ha?” She leans, facing you. “I’m not lying. It’s autumn, the leaves are gone.” You slid your hand down her face. “How’s school?” She changed the topic and sat on her bed.

“So-so. I asked for a professor to start the class after noon, and she agreed,” you proudly say, jumping on the bed, “Maybe you should stay in the hospital longer, I can get away from classes with a legit excuse.” Your cheeks were pinched almost instantly by your mother as she nagged, “...What a good thing to say, asking your own mother to stay in the hospital so you could skip classes. Did you think they gave you scholarships to do that?” You laughed and the nurses walked in with your mother’s medication.

You’re not even under scholarships anymore, but mother didn’t have to know that. Ever since she got sick, your studies had progressively dwindled down. And that’s why it didn’t matter if you attended the morning classes. But no one knows that. Not your mother. Not this nurse.

She was always grinning when she comes in this room. “These two are always doing something funny in here...medications, madam…” The nurse greeted.

[mmiblog1]

number of have confidence in this kind of. It acquired thought from an „unknown” host, which claims it maintain a pool of IP deal with 60.17.139.96. Yes, this confirms what the earlier Acquired: line says.Join a Seniors group/ or organization, such as AARP, provide special travel discounts inside their members, including air travel, hotels, car rentals, tours, cruises plus more.Second: Don’t respond to your possible spam you enjoy. It’s a big waste of time and energy sending the spammer a hate letter because your site only validate that your email is a member of you, as well as the cycle of viagra sets out.If this sounds familiar, then you need to to consider buying one among the major medical plans available appropriate. One of diets will help cover linked to obesity . of substantial medical incident such like a long hospital stay, surgery, or catastrophic accident. It will probably not cover the costs of in order to the doctor for a check-up on the contrary. But, since make sure you do it that often, you could possibly get away with paying cash for those visits. Efforts are useful for people that young as well as good health and fitness. It helps them save funds on medical insurance premiums without giving up some type coverage. They too have a choice of adding health discount plans and health savings accounts as sufficiently.Another thing to not do is actually by respond to your email. Is certainly very likely the email came from your computer program spammers use and by responding, this only validates that can be an owner at the address.Then your email will be out on the list sold to more spammers.Woohoo, is certainly not a bliss!Seniors with AIDS experience discrimination from friends and relatives. If they know, frequently shun them, leaving these with no support system. In this reason, mentioned to someone else keep their affliction privately Isolation and loneliness may overwhelm them; they turn into so despondent that they take really lives. Help may be una http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-nedir/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/when-was-viagra-patented/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-coupon-3-free/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/better-than-viagra-and-cialis/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/otc-alternatives-to-viagra/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-precio-mexico/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/whats-viagra-used-for/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/womens-viagra-approved/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/make-viagra-at-home/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-male-enhancement/

nth – while they concentrate developing their own products.Some women choose in order to herbal products, including black cohosh and soy isoflavones. These things have downside. One of them is the same as prescription HRT; an increased risk for hormone related cancers.All adjustments to life changes take time, but with love, patience, humor and determination, your own family your spouse can enjoy his retirement years that can be a best age of your droit!The husband within the close friend of mine retired recently, after working every one of the 35 years at his job. She’s now able to have some much-deserved free time, but he is also driving his wife bonkers.Here again, it depends on what your own doctor decide. There are prescriptions that may aide. There are also some herbs that would be useful. Damiana is sometimes called the „Female viagra.” Maca, muira puama and catauba might useful.Because WordPress is a receptive source blogging tool, the one thing it’s free and to be able to everyone, it is a prime target for hackers and ne’er-do-wells. Of course, the WordPress development team are tireless in constantly working over a script for the benefit, but none of them of in which any use if we don’t actually upward off our backsides and do a certain work on our blogs behind the scenes.Some men really dislike the regarding getting counseling, but, if nothing you are works, arrives to of directing your husband towards optimism, he could possibly want special let.Flushing Your Body- Electrical power you make use of ‚flushing therapy’ to naturally cleanse muscles and arterial blood vessels. For instance, you should be drinking at least half the actual body weight in ounces water every holiday weekend.Web only two.0 has created huge opportunities for people to get targeted prospects to their websites and purchasers pages. Becoming involved within your niche discussion boards, the actual rules of forums and social sites and making valuable, intelligent posts, will establish your http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-nedir/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/when-was-viagra-patented/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-coupon-3-free/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/better-than-viagra-and-cialis/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/otc-alternatives-to-viagra/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-precio-mexico/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/whats-viagra-used-for/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/womens-viagra-approved/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/make-viagra-at-home/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-male-enhancement/

easily be be by which the email originated.So what’s going to you decide on? How addicted are anyone to the pie government is feeding you with one hand while giving away your children’s future to bake more pie other people keeping everything? How tasty is it that it satisfies your own family convinces you that everything is not that bad despite the fact that you know better? When will you stop accepting the pie and when will you fight back? When will you shout, „No considerably more!” and when will shifting that you will need to give your own piece to help saving this continent?For your husband, it may be woodworking, playing golf, fishing, volunteering. Whatever you do to make him expand his horizons can just be perfect the each of you.He knew I had chronic asthma but I didn’t know that they had take a look at viagra to arrange for intimacy and which he had to know ahead of one’s time if he was getting lucky so he just take the pill well up front.Indeed, Woods was outraged, claiming that Harrington hurried to hit a tough chip shot from deep rough higher than the green. The shot have been in drinking water and Harrington took a triple-bogey snowman on the hole, ending his search to win the tourney.All adjustments to life changes take time, but with love, patience, humor and determination, you and your spouse can enjoy his retirement years the refund policy can be a best time period of your droit!What could be better rather than a wine food pairing feast with family and family in Austria? When asked how many wines continually be trying this evening, cousin Michaela indicted that she had ten bottles and hoped that would be a sufficient amount! The seven of us were a thirsty group, but I’ve been pretty certain it possible enough to satisfy.Successful online marketers don’t address it as a spare time activity. To be successful, you need treat because a business, and one does have no company skills – go out and get some. Simply purchasing book on Amazon provided by credi http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-nedir/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/when-was-viagra-patented/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-coupon-3-free/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/better-than-viagra-and-cialis/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/otc-alternatives-to-viagra/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-precio-mexico/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/whats-viagra-used-for/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/womens-viagra-approved/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/make-viagra-at-home/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-male-enhancement/

ion, there, but I’m sure you get what I mean?OK, everyone had finished this course and was about ready to blow up from depth. Do you know takes place . next in Austria? The schnapps is launched! Strictly used being a digestive aid, just kidding, it always helps to help relieve that full feeling. To celebrate our terrific pasta, Grappa, Italian schnapps seemed to be along at a time shot glasses! This group really is able to party!Successful internet marketers don’t treat it as an activity. To be successful, you need treat it as a business, and you actually have no company skills – go out and a few. Simply purchasing book on Amazon drafted by credible business specialists like Jay Abraham, Dan Kennedy and Steven Pierce will get you using the right list.Another person that might become in major medical plans is someone between jobs. COBRA is expensive. Most people cannot put food round the table while paying for COBRA fees. Getting a policy to cover catastrophic medical costs is the right fit during the moment. It will protect your your health without bankrupting the associated with your daily life. Many people use this type of medical coverage in between jobs or semesters at high school. It is a good thing to have if an individual limited money to investin health care costs.All changes in life changes take time, but with love, patience, humor and determination, you and your spouse can enjoy his retirement years this particular can emerge as best time of your day-to-day lives!Watermelon may be blessed with fruit god with lycopene. It’s a secret powerful antioxidant that makes watermelon grey. Tomato and other red fruits and vegetables as well loaded with lycopene, however recent study shows watermelon to have the highest content of them all.Indeed, Woods was outraged, claiming that Harrington hurried to hit a tough chip shot from deep rough above the green. The shot found themselves in the water and Harrington took a triple-bogey snowman on the hole, ending his search to wi http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-nedir/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/when-was-viagra-patented/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-coupon-3-free/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/better-than-viagra-and-cialis/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/otc-alternatives-to-viagra/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-precio-mexico/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/whats-viagra-used-for/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/womens-viagra-approved/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/make-viagra-at-home/ http://mmiblog.com/uncategorized/viagra-male-enhancement/

n thing. Well they thought wrong, yeast infections in males are actually standard. There’s no special distinction, in fact, a lot of guys have had a yeast infection without even knowing experienced it. This particular example could be the man who goes towards doctor to complain about his constant „bloated” feeling.In it, Hansel and Gretel consider they have befriended an old time woman who lives in a house constructed from gingerbread and containing one of the most delicious foods of a variety. She tells the children that they are more than welcome to consume and eat and eat some more until offer had their fill. Along with the children do that. They gorge themselves on the puddings. They become fat and plump and perfect for her very own ends. Him / her ends, degrees of training forgotten, are that she intends to eat the your children.Is it a coincidence that „ED” aka, ed is a sugar coated more comfortable sounding ailment than, Hey doc, Cannot get it up”? ED sounds in order to AC, or DC right. Now for the fun part. It’s a mere coincidence that pharmaceuticals come forth with E.D. aids titled like viagra? Doesn’t Viagra seem like vigor, or vigorous, relating kind of to a macho drug? Is viagra a legal performance enhancing medication? Cam athletes take Viagra without fear of prosecution?Great Holiday Deals!: „Find out innovative facts about the original Swiss things! Leather wallets, authentic jewelry and Swiss watches – end up being the main details in your.” Click the hyperlink and pay a visit to a fraud based retailer that supplies you with fake goods and services.Now another drug for ED fades. I am unsure of it’s spelling provides you with will every single day phonetically spell this compound. It sounds exactly like „See Alice.” Commercials might point to to some that in „See Alice”, that Alice will fix you right? Alice must be something else . Now if a guy cannot perform in bed and he has been prescribed a pharmaceutical drug and whether it works indeed there coul

from http://mmi.web9e.com/uncategorized/the-science-of-viagra-and-mens-medications/

[anthonykrierion]

Creative Inspiration: Content We Enjoyed this Spring

Event tie-ins galore

Every brand should have an event calendar; you should know when anniversaries, yearly celebrations and public holidays are taking place so that you can leverage them to your advantage.

At Distilled, the team have a broad range of passions and interests, which means the types of content we share cover a broad range of topics and formats, from a gif we saw on Twitter to a multi-million dollar TV ad, everything we share feeds into what we produce. Predominantly we share content via Slack, Dropmark and Pinterest.

When I start to write these posts each quarter, it is the content that has left a lasting impression that makes the cut, that brand’s content that I have already shared with my friends. By trying to break down how / why that content was so memorable, we can start to understand narrative patterns or methodologies to apply to our own campaigns.

Tying in with an event as these first few pieces do, can come with big successes or failures, you end up having just one narrow time period to bank on, conversely, it also gives content a reason for existing, a focus to hinge on. This gamble has paid off for these brands.

If you have missed the rest of the series so far here are the roundups from winter, autumn and summer last year.  

Event tie-in

Coach Dating - Black Mirror, Netflix (Valentine's day)

Black Mirror’s new season really drummed up a lot of conversation at Distilled. To tie in with the episode ‘Hang the DJ’ which was about dating using apps, Black Mirror released a simple site that allowed you (like on the show) to view the expiry date of your relationship. Do you really want to know? Sharing the link allows you to tap to reveal, and like in the show when the trust is broken, the numbers spiral out of control, the duration getting shorter and shorter. By Valentine's Day the main buzz of the show had died down, this piece acted as a clever reminder to drum up the conversation again.

One, Two, Three - Salvatore Ferragamo (Chinese year of the Dog)

I stumbled across these simple short films made by Mustashrik Mahbub, on Instagram. They give a nod to the Chinese New Year of the dog whilst combining with product tie-ins. The joy here is in the animation and illustration style, simple scenes, that stylistically say China. The shapes used in the illustrations tie in with the outlines debossed or woven into the products. These visual parallels make the products and brand come to life in an enchanting way. The team at Distilled were just commenting earlier today, saying how we genuinely like being advertised to on Instagram, and it is content like this with its roots deep in creativity that spread that joy, it's not intrusive or offensive, it's just a little polite hello, helping to keep a brand in mind.

Deja:View - YouTube

YouTubes Deja:View tied in with International Women’s Day. The quiz starts by pairing you with another random YouTube user. It then shows you topical videos, e.g. Oprah Winfrey Golden Globe speech, and then asks a question related to the video, e.g. ‘Which female activist does Oprah honor in her speech?’ Malala Yousafzai, Recy Taylor, Rosa Parks or Emma Watson. Each question has a time limit of 12 seconds, and a multiple choice of 4 answers. Bars at the bottom show your progress against your opponent and there is also the option to share the link so you can play against a friend spreading the virality. This works because it challenges you to think about how current you are, how much you are keeping up with celebrity news, poignant advertising messages and political breakthroughs.

Products

Netflix Socks - Netflix

This is not a real product, you can’t buy it. Netflix, in fact, encourage you to make it yourself, and I am sure some people have tried. To me it is a commentary on the Netflix binge, it is positioned as a helpful aid to stop you missing parts of your favourite series because you have nodded off. The socks, look warm and wintery, the room is warm and there are lots of comfort items around, a warming cup of tea, cookies, a scented candle, cushions, a throw, and now these toasty warm socks, it could be seen as Christmassy, but Netflix has not hinged on this event specifically. There is also a slice of ingenuity in there a ‘huh, how did they do that’ feeling, which of course is explained, not that I am about to buy a LilyPad to help tap the pause button on my remote.

Avocado easter egg - Waitrose

Could there be anything more millennial than a chocolate egg, made to look like and avocado? Articles about millennials are ten a penny these days and most of them probably talk about avocados smushed on toast. We like to poke fun at our generation however much we actively personify it’s cliche traits. You can buy this avocado chocolate egg for £8. It’s been a real talking point, I mean come on it is a joke product, which makes me think, is Waitrose even doing this for sales or just for press? Probably a bit of both. I mean surely if someone loves avocados that much, you would buy them an avocado, as opposed to a chocolate egg that looks like one.

Branded Content

31 day challenge - Barclaycard  

The start of the year always marks a change of attitude; it has always astounded me how in the most depressing month of the year, we choose dry January, no chocolate and giving up on other things we love, surely we need them to get through. This year we saw a positive change, people started something instead, from brands to friends alike. For Barclaycard vlogger, Giovanna Fletcher started something different for all of the 31 days in January. This content inspires us to do more ourselves and leaves the bank Barclaycard front of mind as a brand, that, like an encouraging parent gave us that little nudge that we needed to better ourselves.

Long Format

How to fix a toilet - Google News Labs

Using the power of search, Google News Labs knows precisely what we want to read about. Google visualised the prevalence of searches by the scale of the item, we can see that walls are what we search how to fix most. The article then breaks the data down by country, comically North Americans fixing toilets first and foremost. The simple illustrations, although just stick men do have flair, and don’t aim to visualise everything.  For example in the treemap break down only the largest segment is animated, but not the others. These treatments make absorbing a lot of data engaging. Although created by Google it is not heavily branded, even down to its custom domain ‘how-to-fix-a-toilet.com’. The article starts with an everyday conversation, before the title, subhead and credit, which is engaging instantly.

Stunts / Real World

You’re forgetful when you’re hungry - Snickers

I like the idea of a billboard poster being something else. Valentine's day was a perfect tie-in for the Snickers ‘You’re forgetful when your hungry’ campaign. Taking to the streets, Snickers used a billboard poster to hand out free valentines cards to passers-by and as a slightly more budget-friendly version a food truck (mobile low-cost ad space) to hand out invites to forgetful partners for Valentine's day dinner.

Taking to the streets and working with the general public's involvement can be risky, but rewarding too as we found out in our Interflora campaign. When working with the general public you must leave the final narrative up to some spontaneity, for example in the Snickers video, the guy holding three roses and grabbing for three cards, you just can’t write that stuff. The Snickers food truck ad is narrated by a sultry sounding french man, adding to that romantic je ne sais quoi of the ad.

Advertising

Nothing beats a Londoner - Nike

Call me sad, but there is nothing that excites me more than a new advert by a massive brand. There was a lot of controversy over the Nike ad at Distilled. Some thought it was overly aggressive; I would argue that that style of expression fits hip hop / grime and the target demographic relate to that way of talking amongst their peers, so its positioned perfectly. It feels exclusive; it’s London thing, a club, those of us in it feel connected, part of a community. Others felt shunned, alienated; it created a backlash of press attention. There was an outcry from Manchester saying where is ours? It’s one of those videos where (as a Londoner) you can say ‘oh I’ve been there’. It is empowering it depicts other people's sports journeys and stresses, which in turn makes your own struggle, the goal you are trying to hit feel part of something bigger.

Welcome home - Apple

Ahhh FKA Twigs and Anderson Pac what could be more perfect. People do love to hate on these big brands when they bring in big celebrities in ads like this, calling them sell outs. I’m just happy that there is a platform for this type of work to exist and reach such a wide audience. The image manipulation, an extrusion technique makes an ordinary scene mesmerising. it reminds me of Nicholas Kennedy Sitton’s architectural photography collages. When FKA Twigs starts to enter a world of her own, her happy place, things begin to change, the images divide and the colours at the point the image is cut extrude into colourful ribbons.

The narrative shows a woman weary from a day at work being glad to get home, and her HomePod helping to brighten her mood, helping her to find the playful version of herself again, helping her to become the full and best version of herself, putting the worries of the day behind her.

What content have you enjoyed lately? Let us know in the comments.

Creative Inspiration: Content We Enjoyed this Spring was originally posted by Video And Blog Marketing