#Southeast Asian travelers

[beingjellybeans]

Exploring the Philippines with Airbnb: A Rising Trend Among Southeast Asian Travelers

In a world reshaped by the pandemic, travel has taken on a new dimension. As borders reopen and adventurers eagerly dust off their passports, Southeast Asia is witnessing an intriguing phenomenon. Airbnb, a pioneer in redefining travel experiences, is revealing compelling trends that showcase a fervent interest in the Philippines among Southeast Asian travelers. Chinese Wanderlust: A Philippines…

[lotusinjadewell]

Street food and scenery in Hanoi, Vietnam. Credit to nofoodphobia (Instagram).

[elinerlina2]

Southeast Asia 🌍

[siemreapbesttaxidriversblog]

welcome to Cambodia ! My name is Thana a local car taxi driver and tuk tuk driver to angkor wat temple .. Please don't forget giving me the job by driving when you arriving in Cambodia

www.siemreapbesttaxidriver.com

[inviewadventures]

Southeast Asian Cuisine: Culinary Delights

Let’s go on a journey through Southeast Asian Cuisine, where each dish tells a story of tradition and flavor. This guide unveils the culinary treasures of Vietnam, Thailand, Indonesia, and beyond. Southeast Asia serves hundreds of culinary delights for those wanting to try new foods and experience different tastes. Exploring the diverse cuisine in Southeast Asia allows people to better understand the history and people of the region. So, if you’re considering visiting the area any time soon, there are certain dishes you certainly will want to take advantage of! Let’s jump in and look at the highlights of some of the essential dishes in the region.

A Foodie’s Journey Through Southeast Asian Cuisine

Indonesia 

Indonesian cuisine is less famous than other regions like Thailand or China internationally (a situation the Economist attributes to varying factors like politics and prejudice). But there are incredible dishes using rich, flavorful ingredients and spices. An Indonesian staple is rice. It may be served steamed, slightly cooked, or wrapped in leaves. Other popular foods include soup, noodles, and dishes like Nasi Goreng and Rendang.

Rendang is a traditional Indonesian dish originating from Padang. It consists of tenderized beef marinated in coconut milk and traditional species. It certainly is a favorite among people visiting the region. Other notable mentions include satay lilit in Bali. This is a grilled minced meat dish seasoned with chili, lime, and lemongrass. Siomay, a street snack consisting of fish dumplings, sliced potatoes, cabbage, and tofu, topped with a tasty peanut sauce is also great.

The Philippines

Filipino cuisine is more like a fusion of various cultures and influences from Malay, China, and Spain. Some of the more popular choices for those visiting the region include Lechon (roast pig), a staple in Cebu. Don’t miss out on chicken inasal (a charcoal-grilled chicken dish). If you have the chance, enjoy the authentic version in Bacolod. Other tasty meals include adobo (which is marinated meat), and morcon (made from beef, poor, sausages, onions and eggs).

If you’re visiting Davao, take advantage of the opportunities to try durian. There’s also numerous varieties of durian fruit (consisting of candies, cake, flavored coffee, and more). If you are looking for a new taste sensation, the Philippines is definitely the right choice for you.

Southeast Asian Cuisine – Thailand 

The history of Thai food interweaves ingredients and cooking methods from various cultures. The result is a culinary experience that attracts people from around the world. If you’re looking to participate in it, Thai street food is a perfect choice. While visiting, definitely don’t miss out on the roadside stalls where you can try out some delicious options like moo ping (grilled pork), tom yum goong (hot and sour shrimp), Khao man gai (chicken and rice), Khao niao mamuang (sticky rice), grilled skewers and Pad Thai. Head out early in the morning if you want a comforting bowl of jok, a rice porridge featuring pork topped with ginger and onions. Street food allows for a truly immersive experience for those visiting Thailand and wanting to get a unique taste of their culture. 

If you want to explore Thailand, remember that each city and region features something unique. In Chiang Mai, stop and enjoy Khao Soi, a curry soup made with coconut milk served over egg noodles and topped with layered crispy fried noodles. Heading to Northeastern Thailand? Try Som Tam, a mash of tasty vegetables, Larb, and Nam Toke, and salads of meat, rice, lime, and fish sauce. Staying in the central region of Thailand? Well, many describe Bangkok as a “”food lover’s paradise, ” so don’t miss out on everything the city has to offer. If you’re heading South to the beautiful islands, try Sataw (prawns with a unique flavor), Massaman curry, or Khua Kling.

Vietnam

Southeast Asian Cuisine and Vietnam! If you’re traveling in Vietnam, you’ll encounter a range of dishes and flavors that change from North to South. Those in Sagon enjoy bánh xèo (crispy pancakes) rolled with greens and dipped in sweet-and-sour fish sauce, while Hai An Cao Lau noodles are a popular snack. Don’t miss out on the fantastic street food options like banh mi (a sandwich featuring pickled vegetables, fresh cilantro, pork belly, pork floss, and cucumber) or pho (featuring flat rice noodles with beef or chicken cooked in a hearty stock, spiced with clove, and cinnamon and anise). 

Bánh Xèo, emerging from the Mekong Delta and popular in south and central Vietnam, features a batter made from coconut milk and rice. The filling contains pork, bean sprouts, and shrimp. If you still have room, try Che, a dessert sometimes served hot or cold and topped with fruits like bananas and longan. The unique combination of sauces, herbs, and spices creates a memorable experience that captures Vietnamese cuisine.

Singapore

We have to talk about Singapore if we are talking about Southeast Asian Cuisine. Singapore’s cuisine combines influences from China, Malay, and India. Some staples include Hainanese chicken rice and chili crab. Suppose you’re looking to check out some fine dining. In that case, several Michelin-star regional restaurants offer a promising taste sensation.

Laos

Laos’ amazing scenery and deep cultural legacy makes it a popular choice. The food is also worth trying out. Laotian cuisine is not as well known in the West. The dishes may seem simple, but it’s quite flavorful, frequently combining fermented pork and fish with chilies and fresh herbs (think mint, cilantro, makrut lime leaf, ginger, garlic, etc.).

Cambodia

When we talk about Southeast Asian Cuisine, we have to talk about Cambodia. The use of different herbs and spices, together with the addition of tropical fruits from the area, define the cuisine. The region’s most popular dishes include lok lak, a stir-fried beef dish; fish amok, which is fish made with banana leaves; and amok, a stew made with kroeung and fresh coconut milk. The cuisine of the area combines a variety of tastes, from spicy to sweet, to produce a flavor profile that is sure to please. You might want to try kangkep baob if you’re feeling more daring. It’s a frog that’s been roasted over hot coals packed with peanuts, chiles, pork, and different spices like garlic and lemongrass.

Southeast Asian Cuisine: A Feast for Foodies

Southeast Asian Cuisine is delicious. Whether you want to visit the numerous street vendors or immerse yourself in an exciting culinary experience by visiting a more upscale restaurant, you will be very content with Southeast Asian food. There are an infinite variety of flavors and dishes worth exploring. Hopefully, this article has pointed you toward some of the more popular ones you wouldn’t wouldn’t-would want to take advantage of. Also, please check my other article on Discovering the Wonders of Southeast Asia Travel: A Comprehensive Travel Guide.

And as always, don’t forget to follow to be in the loop. 👍

[filmbyjy]

my asian self is screaming enhypen likes durian👁️👁️

this is the first time I actually hear a group like durian. that’s like not common bc a lot of people hate the smell.

[flightsandhotels]

Follow the link to book a flight to Hong Kong to visit the Man Mo Temple, book a hotel room in Hong Kong, and book tours of Hong Kong.

[axellaniez]

Yogyakarta, often hailed as the cultural heart of Java, offers an unparalleled journey through time, where history, architecture, and local traditions intertwine to create a rich tapestry of experiences. This city, with its profound historical significance and cultural depth, captivated me from the moment I arrived. In particular, the majestic Sultan's Palace, the quaint Dutch Quarter, and the immersive Javanese culture provided a deeply enriching exploration that left an indelible mark on my soul.

The Sultan's Palace: A Bastion of Javanese Royalty

The Sultan's Palace, or Kraton Ngayogyakarta Hadiningrat, stands as a testament to the grandeur and sophistication of Javanese royalty. This architectural marvel is not merely a royal residence but a living museum, encapsulating centuries of history and tradition. The palace complex, meticulously designed in accordance with Javanese cosmology, reflects a harmonious blend of indigenous design principles and colonial influences.

As I traversed the expansive courtyards and intricately carved wooden pavilions, I was struck by the palace's serene yet imposing presence. Each structure within the Kraton is imbued with symbolic meaning, from the orientation of buildings to the ornate decorations adorning their facades. The palace houses a wealth of historical artifacts, including royal heirlooms, traditional garments, and ceremonial objects, each narrating the storied legacy of the Yogyakarta Sultanate.

Witnessing a traditional court dance within the palace grounds was an experience of profound cultural significance. The dancers, adorned in elaborate costumes, moved with grace and precision, embodying the spiritual and artistic heritage of the Javanese people. The Sultan's Palace is not merely a relic of the past but a vibrant center of cultural preservation and celebration.

The Dutch Quarter: Echoes of Colonial Influence

Transitioning from the regal ambiance of the Kraton, I ventured into the Dutch Quarter, an area that exudes the quaint charm of Yogyakarta's colonial past. The Dutch colonial era, which began in the early 17th century, left an indelible mark on the city's architecture and urban landscape. The Dutch Quarter, with its cobblestone streets and stately colonial buildings, serves as a living chronicle of this historical period.

The architecture in the Dutch Quarter is characterized by its grand facades, expansive verandas, and intricate ironwork, reflecting the architectural aesthetics of the Dutch East Indies. Walking through this district felt like stepping back in time, as each building narrates tales of colonial enterprise, cultural exchange, and historical transformation.

The quarter is replete with charming cafes, galleries, and antique shops, offering a delightful juxtaposition of Javanese and European influences. These establishments provide not only a glimpse into the past but also a venue for contemporary cultural expression and dialogue. The Dutch Quarter is a place where history and modernity coexist, inviting visitors to explore and reflect on the complex narratives that have shaped Yogyakarta.

The Essence of Javanese Culture

Yogyakarta's true allure lies in its deep-rooted Javanese culture, which permeates every aspect of life in the city. The Javanese people are renowned for their rich traditions, artistic expressions, and unwavering commitment to preserving their cultural heritage. My immersion into this vibrant culture was both enlightening and transformative.

One of the most profound experiences was attending a wayang kulit performance, a traditional shadow puppet theater that is integral to Javanese cultural identity. The intricately crafted puppets, manipulated by skilled dalang (puppet masters), brought to life epic tales from the Ramayana and Mahabharata. The accompanying gamelan orchestra, with its melodious and rhythmic sounds, added a transcendent quality to the performance, creating an atmosphere of mystical reverence.

Exploring Yogyakarta's bustling markets, traditional batik workshops, and local culinary scene further deepened my appreciation for Javanese culture. Each interaction, whether with artisans meticulously crafting batik textiles or vendors selling traditional delicacies, offered a glimpse into the daily life and enduring traditions of the Javanese people.

A Cultural Odyssey

Yogyakarta is not merely a destination; it is a cultural odyssey that beckons travelers to delve into its historical depths and embrace its cultural richness. The city's ability to seamlessly blend its royal heritage, colonial past, and vibrant local traditions creates a unique and compelling narrative that resonates with all who visit.

In conclusion, Yogyakarta offers an intellectual and cultural journey that transcends the ordinary. From the majestic Sultan's Palace to the charming Dutch Quarter, and the immersive experience of Javanese culture, every aspect of this city invites exploration and reflection. For those seeking a profound and enriching travel experience, Yogyakarta stands as a beacon of historical and cultural enlightenment.

[lionheartlr]

Discovering Brunei: A Jewel of Southeast Asia

Nestled on the northern coast of the island of Borneo, Brunei is a small yet fascinating country that often goes unnoticed by many travelers. Officially known as the Nation of Brunei, the Abode of Peace (Negara Brunei Darussalam), this sultanate offers a unique blend of rich history, lush landscapes, and a distinctive cultural heritage. A Brief History of Brunei Brunei’s history dates back to…

[rabbitcruiser]

National Caramel Day 

It’s sticky, gooey, and oh-so-delicious: try your hand at the deceptively complex process of making caramel, or just enjoy your favorite caramel treats.National Caramel Day is a special event dedicated to the rich, gooey, tasty substance that is made using the deliciously dark alchemy of the culinary arts. It is known as Caramel, which is in fact born out of the rather exacting process of caramelization.

Now it’s time to learn about and celebrate National Caramel Day!

History of National Caramel Day

Some say that the history of caramel goes back more than a thousand years back to the year 1000 A.D. when the sweet treat was discovered. The name at the time was rather literal, calling it the “kurat al milh”, which means “sweet ball of salt”.

This original version would have been the crunchy type of caramel that was made by crystallizing sugar in boiling water, which is something more like what is known as crunchy toffee today.

Caramel and other treats were enjoyed in the mid-1600s in the Americas, where people were known to have been making hard candies in kettles. Later, caramel developed into a candy that was made not only with sugar, but also included cream or milk, making it a much softer and chewy treat.

By 1886, Lancaster Caramel Company was started by none other than Milton S. Hershey, who would eventually go on to start the Hershey Company, which is one of the most famous American chocolate and candy companies today.

Learning about the history of caramel might also be useful if it involves a bit of understanding about the way that caramel is made. The process for making caramel is deceptively simple, you need merely increase the heat of sugar to a mere 170 °C (340 °F), at which point the sugar breaks down and turns into this much delectable substance with its rich golden color and iconic flavor.

This part is just the start of this process, the beginning of a trek to that which most people think of as ‘Caramel’, that coater of apples and binder of popcorn. Caramel can be used in so many different delightful and delicious treats!

To truly make the type of caramel that most people dearly love, there are a couple of approaches. One is to caramelize the sugar and then add the cream, butter, and vanilla that brings out the flavors that everyone dearly loves. The other process involves adding them all together and then cooking the mixture until the milk caramelizes but not the sugar. This sort of caramel is known as ‘milk caramel’.

Now it’s time to consider how to enjoy and celebrate National Caramel Day!

National Caramel Day Timeline

1000 AD Caramel is discovered

Likely created by making crystallized sugar in a bowl, caramel is believed to have been discovered by Arabs.

1650 Caramel is made in the Americas

It is believed that hard caramel candies are being made in kettles in the US even before it was a country.

1886 Lancaster Caramel Company begins

A predecessor to the Hershey Company, Lancaster Caramel Company is started in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

1950s Caramel apples are born

When Dan Walker of Kraft Foods dips apples into melted caramel, a new and exciting dessert is born.

1977 Salted caramels become popular

French pastry chef Henri le Roux makes a salted butter caramel with crushed nuts.

How to Celebrate National Caramel Day

The best part about National Caramel Day is it gives just about anyone an excuse to put this wonderful treat on anything you can think of!

Share Caramel Treats with Friends

Whatever your favorite form of caramel is, this day is the day that can be celebrated by sharing it with friends, family, and co-workers alike. A fun gift would be to prepare little bags of mixed types of caramel, with little cards in them talking about the history of this delectable treat. Even better, perhaps add in a recipe for them to try making their own caramel treats at home!

Make a Treat Using Caramel

Those who are feeling truly adventurous, can bring in confections of their own creation! Caramel really does go wonderfully with just about anything, so take it upon yourself to whip up a dish of traditional brownies, and you can either mix the caramel in as a marbling, or drizzle it on top and sprinkle it with walnuts for a special treat.

Learn Fun Facts About Caramel

One fun activity for National Caramel Day would be to learn some interesting trivia facts about the candy of the day and then share them with family and friends in honor of the day. Try out these facts for starters:

Caramel coloring is a dark, bitter liquid that is highly concentrated and bottled for commercial use in drinks such as colas.

1960 was an important year in the world of caramel because that’s when the machine was invented that made caramel apples. The machine was invented by Vito Raimondi with the help of his uncle William, whose confectionary shop in Chicago is still the number one machine-dipped caramel apple business.

Cube-shaped Kraft caramels were first made in the United States in 1933. These are especially popular in the autumn months around Halloween, and they often come with sticks to be used for making caramel apples.

The caramel has roots in the Latin “calamellus”, which is related to the sugar cane the caramels come from.

Bake Caramel Spice Cupcakes

Those who want something a little lighter, but still having that rich caramel flavor, can create a batch of apple or pumpkin spice cupcakes, top them with a delicious buttercream frosting, and drizzle them with delightful caramel! These rich flavors and smells are reminiscent of the fall and winter holidays, and will inevitably bring a warm cozy feeling to the home while everyone’s mouth rejoices at the deliciously wonderful flavor of caramel.

Make Turtle Cupcakes for Carmel Day

Most people are familiar with Turtle candies, those rich droplets of caramel made with pecans and then dipped in chocolate. These treats are incredibly popular no matter where you go, and here is an opportunity to enjoy a unique twist on them.

For this dish, prepare a traditional chocolate cake batter, whether from scratch or from a boxed cake mix, and pour it into a cupcake tray. The next step is to marbleize in some caramel and pecans, and set the cupcakes in the oven to bake. Once completed, top these little treats off with a dose of vanilla cream frosting, a drizzle of caramel, and a single pecan to finish them off!

Use Caramel as a Topping

Caramel is really a versatile topping, able to go on top of any form of fruit, be they pears, peaches or the traditional apples. Even better is to use this treat as the topping for the ice cream on a banana split.

One other treat that only goes better with caramel is apple pie! Create this by mixing some caramel into the apple filling and then drizzle the top with rich, creamy, delicious caramel sauce. By doing this, that pie will go from ‘All American’ to ‘All Star’ quality. No matter how you choose to celebrate this National Caramel Day, make sure to spread the joy by taking those delectable treats and sharing with others.

National Caramel Day FAQs

When is National Caramel Day?

National Caramel day is celebrated each year on April 5th.

How to make caramel apples?

Caramel apples are easy to make by dipping apples in sauce made from heavy whipping cream and caramel candies.

What is caramel made of?

For National Caramel Day, it’s fun to learn that caramel sauce has only a few ingredients, including sugar, butter and cream, as well as salt, vanilla for flavor.

How to pronounce caramel?

The word caramel comes from the Spanish origins of “caramelo” and is pronounced keh-ruh-muhl.

What is National Caramel Day?

National Caramel Day was created with the idea of celebrating and enjoying everything to do with the sweet, buttery candy that is caramel.

Source

[lotusinjadewell]

Văn Miếu - Quốc Tử Giám in Hanoi, Vietnam.

[tourbon]

Wild comes to the temple

[blueiscoool]

900 Artifacts From Ming Dynasty Shipwrecks Found in South China Sea

The trove of objects—including pottery, porcelain, shells and coins—was found roughly a mile below the surface.

Underwater archaeologists in China have recovered more than 900 artifacts from two merchant vessels that sank to the bottom of the South China Sea during the Ming dynasty.

The ships are located roughly a mile below the surface some 93 miles southeast of the island of Hainan, reports the South China Morning Post’s Kamun Lai. They are situated about 14 miles apart from one another.

During three phases over the past year, researchers hauled up 890 objects from the first vessel, including copper coins, pottery and porcelain, according to a statement from China’s National Cultural Heritage Administration (NCHA). That’s just a small fraction of the more than 10,000 items found at the site. Archaeologists suspect the vessel was transporting porcelain from Jingdezhen, China, when it sank.

The team recovered 38 items from the second ship, including shells, deer antlers, porcelain, pottery and ebony logs that likely originated from somewhere in the Indian Ocean.

Archaeologists think the ships operated during different parts of the Ming dynasty, which lasted from 1368 to 1644.

Many of the artifacts came from the Zhengde period of the Ming dynasty, which spanned 1505 to 1521. But others may be older, dating back to the time of Emperor Hongzhi, who reigned from 1487 to 1505, as Chris Oberholtz reported last year.

Archaeologists used manned and unmanned submersibles to collect the artifacts and gather sediment samples from the sea floor. They also documented the wreck sites with high-definition underwater cameras and a 3D laser scanner.

The project was a collaboration between the National Center for Archaeology, the Chinese Academy of Science and a museum in Hainan.

“The discovery provides evidence that Chinese ancestors developed, utilized and traveled to and from the South China Sea, with the two shipwrecks serving as important witnesses to trade and cultural exchanges along the ancient Maritime Silk Road,” says Guan Qiang, deputy head of the NCHA, in the agency’s statement.

During the Ming dynasty, China’s population doubled, and the country formed vital cultural ties with the West. Ming porcelain, with its classic blue and white color scheme, became an especially popular export. China also exported silk and imported new foods, including peanuts and sweet potatoes.

The period had its own distinctive artistic aesthetic. As the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Asian Art writes, “Palace painters excelled in religious themes, moralizing narrative subjects, auspicious bird-and-flower motifs and large-scale landscape compositions.”

The shipwreck treasures aren’t the only recent discoveries in the South China Sea, according to CBS News’ Stephen Smith. Just last month, officials announced the discovery of a World War II-era American Navy submarine off the Philippine island of Luzon.

By Sarah Kuta.

[emjayewrites]

a king & his queen • ibou konaté oneshot

SYNOPSIS: Ibou loves his wife — period, point blank.

WARNINGS: cursing, sex scene, mentons of religion, rude/judgmental parents - 18+

TAGLIST: @kj77, @ibouchouchou, @saturnville, @lev-1-1, @irishmanwhore, @certifiedlesbianbaddie, @f1-football-fiend @peyiswriting

Ibou worshipped his wife.

Some called him whipped, however. Down bad even.

The comments on his Instagram always got him laughing. Twitter buzzed with playful memes about how he turned to putty around his wife. "Biggest simp in the Prem," they'd joke, posting clips of him gazing at Saniya during post-match interviews or adjusting her coat as they left Anfield. He'd even dropped a heart emoji in response to every tweet or comment.

Ibou wore their teasing like a badge of honor—let them talk.

But see, that was the thing about finding your person at twenty-four. You didn't care what anyone else thought.

"Babe, you sure you packed your earphones?" Saniya was triple-checking their carry-ons in the Liverpool Airport lounge, her curls falling into her face as she dug through her designer backpack. "You know how your ears get on long flights."

"In my pocket." Ibou patted his hoodie, then reached over to tuck that stubborn curl behind her ear. "And I packed your anxiety meds, your favorite snacks, and that lavender roll-on thing you like."

She looked up at him with those eyes – part Southeast Asian from her mum, part Nigerian from her dad – and his heart did that thing it always did. Like someone had pressed pause on the whole world.

"What would I do without you?" she asked, leaning into his side.

"Good thing you'll never have to find out." He dropped a kiss on her forehead, gentle and quick. Even after one year together, these little moments still felt like stealing something precious.

The flight attendant called for business class boarding, and Ibou felt Saniya tense slightly. Flying wasn't her thing, never had been. That's why he'd booked the morning flight – she did better with daylight travel, one of those little details he'd filed away in his heart like other men memorized stats.

"Je suis là," he murmured as they walked through the jet bridge, his hand finding its home in the small of her back. "Right here, always."

Their seats were everything he'd hoped for when he'd spent hours picking the perfect ones – by the window because Saniya liked watching the clouds, but not too far back where the turbulence hit harder. He helped her settle in, pulling the blanket from its plastic wrap before she even asked.

"You're doing too much," she said, but her smile said different.

"Doing exactly enough for my wife." He loved saying that. Wife. Six months married and it still tasted like honey on his tongue.

The plane started its taxi, and Saniya's hand found his, their fingers interlacing like they'd been practicing this dance forever. Maybe they had been. Maybe that's why everything clicked that first night they met, when his teammate's wife had invited them both to dinner in London.

He remembered how she'd worn this blue dress that brought out the bronze hues in her skin, how she'd asked him about football but really wanted to know about the person behind the jersey. Most girls he met were already following him on Instagram, had their minds made up about who Ibou Konaté was supposed to be. But Saniya? She'd looked right through all that noise and seen him – just him.

Their love story wasn't conventional by any means: the Muslim footballer and the demisexual psychology graduate who didn't share his faith but understood his soul. Saniya's demisexuality meant emotional intimacy came first, long FaceTime conversations that stretched into dawn, shared silences that said more than words had built their connection slowly, beautifully. By the time they first kissed, four months into dating, he felt like he'd known her in a past life. And then he proposed two months later because why wait when you knew for certain she was the one?

"Remember when you tried to impress me with your French?" he teased now, watching her get comfortable under the blanket.

"Shut up," she laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. "I still say 'croissant' better than you say 'innit.'"

"That's because you're from London and I'm—"

"A proper French boy who thinks he's too cool for slang?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Mr. 'I Only Wear Designer But Still Steal My Wife's Hoodies'?"

"They're comfortable!" He defended himself with a grin. "And you steal my shirts all the time."

"That's different." She yawned, already getting drowsy as the plane climbed through the clouds. "I'm your wife. I have rights."

Rights. Like she needed any official permission to take whatever she wanted from him. His shirts, his heart, his whole world – it was all hers anyway. His teammates never let him live down about how soft he got around her, but that was their problem. They hadn't figured out yet that being strong meant knowing when to be gentle.

The plane leveled out somewhere over Europe, and Ibou watched Saniya drift in and out of sleep against his shoulder. She'd been nervous about this trip, not just because of the flying thing. "What if you need physio while we're there?" she'd asked last week, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "What if the injury—"

"The injury's fine," he'd promised, pulling her into his lap right there in their kitchen. "I'm fine. And you know why? Because I've got the best care in the world right here."

Now, watching her breathe softly beside him, he thought about how lucky he was. Two injuries this season had knocked him sideways, yet she'd been his constant. Running him bath salts after rehab. Making sure he ate properly. Never once making him feel less than whole when the press speculated about his future.

"Stop staring at me," she mumbled without opening her eyes.

"Can't help it." He brushed his lips against her temple. "You're too beautiful."

"You're too much." But she snuggled closer, and his heart did that expanding thing again, like it couldn't quite contain everything he felt for her.

The flight attendant appeared with their lunch service, and Saniya stirred properly awake. Ibou had made sure to pre-order halal for himself and that salmon dish she loved. Little things. Always the little things.

"Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw you?" He asked as they ate, his voice low enough to stay private in the cabin.

"Only about a hundred times." She rolled her eyes fondly. "But go on then."

"You were wearing that blue dress..."

"You and this dress!"

"It was a beautiful dress, mon cœur. And you were sitting there at Mo's dinner party, talking about your psychology thesis like it was the most fascinating thing in the world."

"It was fascinating," she protested, but her eyes were soft with memory. "A study on athletic performance anxiety and cultural pressure in first-generation immigrants."

"See? Even now, you light up talking about it." He caught her hand, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I remember thinking, 'This girl has no idea who I am, and it's perfect.'"

She laughed quietly. "I knew exactly who you were, babe. I just didn't care."

"Exactly." The word came out like a prayer. "You saw me. Just me."

Some turbulence hit then, making Saniya grip his hand tighter. Ibou switched seamlessly into comfort mode, pulling her closer, murmuring sweet nothings in French until her breathing steadied again.

"Tell me about the villa again," she said, clearly wanting the distraction. "What's the first thing we're going to do when we get there?"

"First? Get you settled. There's this massive bathtub with a view of the Gulf…" He painted the picture for her, watching her eyes light up at each detail. "Private beach access, infinity pool that looks like it melts into the ocean. No cameras, no schedules. Just us."

"Sounds perfect." She yawned again, the gentle hum of the engines lulling her. "Wake me when we're landing?"

"Always."

That was their thing, really. Always. Not just the big moments like wedding vows or injury recoveries. But the small ones too. Always checking her tea was the right temperature. Always knowing when she needed space to read or cuddles to decompress.

The flight tracker showed they were somewhere over Turkey when Saniya stirred again. "Been thinking," she mumbled.

"Dangerous, that."

She pinched his side playfully. "Been thinking about what my mum said. About us being too young for marriage."

Ibou tensed slightly, but her next words melted him.

"She was wrong, wasn't she? Because this – us – it feels like the most grown-up thing I've ever done. The most real thing."

______________________________________________

Dubai appeared below them like a jewel box spilled across the desert, all glittering towers and impossibly blue water. The captain's voice crackled over the speakers announcing their descent, and Ibou squeezed Saniya's hand.

"Almost there, baby."

Landing was smooth, thank Allah, and Saniya's relief was visible as they stepped into the terminal's cool air. Their driver was waiting in arrivals, holding a discrete sign reading simply "KONATÉ."

"Assalamualaikum," the driver smiled warmly, reaching for their bags.

"Walaikum assalam," Ibou responded, while Saniya echoed the greeting with practiced ease.

"I am Hassan. Welcome to Dubai." He led them to a sleek black Mercedes, the AC already running against the afternoon heat. "The villa is ready for you, and the weather is perfect for swimming today."

The drive from the airport was like watching a movie of impossible architecture, each building more striking than the last. Saniya pressed close to the window, phone forgotten in her lap.

"Mad, isn't it?" she whispered to Ibou. The city stretched endlessly around them, a mix of ultra-modern and ancient that somehow made perfect sense.

Hassan proved to be the perfect guide, pointing out landmarks with quiet pride as they made their way to Palm Jumeirah. "Your villa has the best sunset view on the beach," he mentioned, catching Ibou's eye in the rearview mirror. "Very private, very peaceful."

The front gates opened to reveal their home for the next week, and even Hassan's description hadn't done it justice. The villa rose from its private beach like a modern dream with all clean lines, wooden accents, and endless glass.

"Ibou, this is..." Saniya breathed, stepping out of the car.

But words failed her, and that was okay. Some moments didn't need them.

Hassan helped them with their bags, leading them through massive glass doors that slid open silently. The entrance opened into a space that seemed to float between sky and sea, the late afternoon light painting everything gold.

"The kitchen is fully stocked," Hassan explained, setting down their bags. "Your private chef will arrive at seven, unless you prefer a different time?"

Ibou glanced at Saniya, who was still taking everything in. "Seven is perfect, shukran."

"The pool controls are here," Hassan demonstrated on a sleek panel. "And this button calls the concierge. Anything else you need?"

"We're good," Ibou smiled. "Thank you, brother."

After Hassan left, Saniya kicked off her shoes and padded across the cool marble floors. "This is actually ridiculous," she laughed, spinning slowly. "How did you even find this place?"

"Did my research, didn't I?" He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. The wall of windows in front of them framed the Gulf like a painting. "Had to make sure it was perfect."

"You spoil me."

"That's the plan."

She turned in his arms, reaching up to touch his face. "Shower first or explore?"

"Shower. Definitely shower." He pressed a kiss to her palm. "Then I want to see that smile when you discover the rooftop garden."

"There's a rooftop garden?!"

Their laughter echoed through the villa as they grabbed their bags and headed upstairs. The master bathroom was bigger than her first flat, with a freestanding tub positioned to face the sunset.

"Oh my days," Saniya whispered, running her hand along the marble counter. "We're never leaving."

"Fine by me." Ibou was already unpacking their toiletries, setting out her favorite products exactly how she liked them. "Though I think the gaffer might have something to say about that."

The shower was all steam and quiet giggles and Saniya using Ibou as a wall to lean against while she washed her hair. These were the moments no one saw – just them, just peace, just love without cameras or commentary.

Wrapped in fluffy robes later, they wandered onto their private terrace. The sun was starting its descent, turning the water to liquid gold.

"I can hear you thinking," Ibou murmured, pulling her close.

"Just happy," she said simply. "Just really, really happy."

The call to prayer floated over the water, and Saniya squeezed his hand. "Go on. I'll finish unpacking."

But before he could move, she pulled him down for a proper kiss. Slow, sweet, familiar. A thank you, a promise.

While Ibou prayed, Saniya unpacked with the methodical care she brought to everything. His favorite sweatpants folded just so. Her books stacked on the bedside table. Little pieces of home scattered across this dream villa.

They dressed quickly and their chef arrived precisely at seven, a warm-faced woman named Lailah who spoke English with a soft Lebanese accent. "I've prepared a special menu for your stay," she explained, moving through the kitchen with practiced ease. "All halal, of course, and I remembered your note about seafood being a favorite?"

Saniya's eyes lit up. "You're an angel."

The scent of grilled fish and aromatic rice soon filled the villa. Ibou set up their dinner on the terrace, arranging cushions on the outdoor sofa. The sun was almost gone now, painting the sky in impossible purples.

"This is mad," Saniya said for probably the hundredth time, curled up against him as they ate. "Like, actually mad."

"Good mad though, yeah?"

"The best mad." She popped another grape in her mouth. "Though the group chat is going mental. Mads keeps demanding photos."

"Let them wait." He pulled her closer. "This is just for us right now."

The evening settled around them like a warm blanket. They could hear the gentle lap of waves below, the distant hum of boats, the soft whisper of palm fronds in the breeze. Saniya had changed into one of his t-shirts, drowning in the fabric but looking so right it made his chest ache.

"What?" she asked, catching his gaze.

"Nothing." He smiled. "Everything."

After dinner, they explored the rooftop garden. Fairy lights twinkled between potted palms, and a swinging daybed beckoned them. Saniya immediately claimed it, pulling Ibou down beside her.

"Remember our first proper date?" she asked, playing with his fingers. "When you tried to be all smooth and sophisticated?"

"Tried? I was smooth!"

"Babe, you knocked over an entire bottle of water trying to pour it."

"That was tactical," he protested. "Made you laugh, didn't it?"

"Everything about you made me laugh." She looked up at him, her face soft in the fairy lights. "Still does."

The night air was perfect, just cool enough for her to snuggle closer. Below them, Dubai sparkled like scattered stars, but Ibou wasn't looking at the view. How could he, when she was right there?

"We should probably sleep soon," Saniya yawned. "Get over this jet lag."

"Probably," he agreed, making no move to get up. "Or we can just stay out here....all night."

"All night?" Saniya scoffed in mock disapproval. "You're crazy."

"Crazy about you, Mrs. Konaté," he quipped automatically, giving her a wink. Ibou’s grin softened as he reached for her, his touch was warm, grounding her in a way that felt both familiar and electric. He brought one hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against her knuckles before meeting her gaze again.

"Saniya," he murmured, his deep voice laced with something that made her heart skip a beat.

She tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Yes, Mr. Konaté?"

Instead of answering, he leaned in, closing the small distance between them. The moment their lips touched, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. His full lips slanted against hers, soft yet insistent, drawing a soft gasp from her.

Ibou took his time, savoring her taste—hints of the mint tea they had shared earlier and something uniquely her. His hands, large and gentle, cupped her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as though memorizing every inch of her skin. Her soft moan melted into the kiss, and he responded by deepening it, his mouth moving with hers in a slow, deliberate rhythm that left her breathless.

Her fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Gently, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment before rising and pulling her to her feet.

"Come," he said softly, his voice laced with tenderness as he led her downstairs, their fingers intertwined.

The journey to their bedroom felt suspended in time, each step heightening the anticipation between them. When they reached the room, the moonlight streaming through the curtains cast a silver glow across the bed.

Ibou turned to her, his dark eyes filled with an adoration that made her chest tighten. "You’re beautiful," he murmured, brushing a stray curl from her face before pressing another kiss to her lips.

This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as though he was savoring every second. He eased her onto the bed, hovering above her, his weight carefully balanced as his hands framed her face once more. "Tell me if it’s too much," he murmured, his voice low and reverent.

Saniya’s breath hitched, but she nodded. He pressed a line of kisses along her jaw, his stubble grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver. His mouth traveled to the hollow beneath her ear, then down the smooth column of her neck. The faint scent of her perfume—warm, floral intoxicated him.

She leaned into him, her fingers threading through the tight curls at the back of his head as his lips traced the line of her collarbone. Slowly, deliberately, he eased the t-shirt over her head, revealing more of her.

"Beautiful." His hands followed the path of his gaze, calloused fingers trailing over her arms, down her sides, lingering at her hips. He kissed her again, this time on her shoulder, then lower, his lips finding the curve of her breast. His hands mapped her body with care, as though learning her anew.

"Ibou…" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, her hands gripping his shoulders.

He looked up at her, his dark eyes soft but intent. "I’ve got you," he said simply, his deep voice steady and soothing.

His mouth continued its journey, kissing the plane of her stomach, the curve of her hip. He was thorough, unhurried, savoring her every reaction—the way her breath hitched, the soft sighs that escaped her lips, the way her fingers curled into the sheets.

When he finally moved back up to kiss her lips once more, his hand slipped lower passed her underwear, finding her with a precision that made her gasp. He didn’t rush, didn’t press too hard. Instead, he focused on her entirely, his deft fingers pleasuring her, his eyes watching her closely as he brought her to the edge and then over it, her body trembling beneath him.

He smiled faintly as she came down, her breath ragged. "Always you first," he murmured, his voice a mix of devotion and pride.

When he finally removed the remainder of both their clothing, he entered her fully, and it was with the same care and intention—his movements slow and deliberate. Each thrust was measured, his lips brushing against hers or finding the curve of her shoulder, the soft line of her neck.

He couldn’t believe this was his life—her warmth, her trust, the quiet intimacy they shared. It overwhelmed him sometimes, how deeply he felt for her, how much she meant to him.

Saniya’s nails dug lightly into his back, her moans soft and breathy in his ear, and it only spurred him on. He shifted slightly, adjusting their angle until he felt her tighten around him, her cries growing louder, her body arching beneath his.

"That’s it," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and encouraging. "Let go for me, Saniya."

And when she did, shuddering against him, her head falling back against the pillows, he followed soon after, his release quiet but no less profound.

He collapsed beside her, immediately pulling her into his arms. Their breaths mingled, still heavy, and he pressed a kiss to her damp forehead.

"You okay?" he asked softly, brushing a curl from her face.

She nodded, her lips curving into a lazy, satisfied smile. "Perfect."

Ibou chuckled, the sound low and content. "Good." He kissed her once more, lingering, before resting his forehead against hers. "Because you are. Perfect."

He held her against his chest, their breaths mingling as they lay tangled together. His fingers lazily traced patterns on her back as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"Sleep now, Mrs. Konaté," he whispered, his voice soft and steady.

But she only smiled, her fingers trailing over his chest. "Not without you, Mr. Konaté."

He chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling against her cheek. "I’m not going anywhere."

Dawn painted their bedroom in gentle pastels when Ibou stirred awake. Saniya was still deep in sleep, her curls wild against the pillow. The sheets held the memory of last night's slow, tender intimacy.

He slipped quietly from bed for his morning ablutions, a familiar ritual grounding him in the new space. The bathroom tiles were cool under his feet as he performed wudu, each motion a meditation. Through the vast windows, he could see the first rays of the sun turning the Gulf to molten gold.

Back in the bedroom, Saniya had shifted into the warm space he'd left behind. She always did that, seeking him even in sleep. The sight made his heart swell. Last night had been perfect, the way she'd whispered "I love you" against his skin, the way they'd moved together like waves meeting the shore.

The call to Fajr drifted through the villa. Ibou pressed a feather-light kiss to Saniya's temple before heading to pray, his heart full of gratitude. For her. For them. For mornings like this.

When he returned, she was sitting up in bed, his shirt slipping off one shoulder, scrolling through her phone.

"Morning, baby," she smiled, voice still husky with sleep. Her skin glowed in the early light, marked here and there with evidence of his devotion from the night before.

"Admiring your handiwork?" Saniya teased as Ibou slid back into bed, his fingers tracing a constellation of marks along her collarbone.

"Mhm." He pressed gentle kisses to each one. "Had to make sure everyone knows you're taken."

"Everyone who? The seagulls on our private beach?" But she tilted her head, giving him better access. "You were a man on a mission last night."

"Always am when it comes to you." His voice softened, lips finding that sensitive spot behind her ear. "Speaking of missions…"

She knew what he meant. They'd been letting nature take its course lately – no planning, no pressure. What Allah willed would happen. The thought of a little one with her eyes and his smile… but they weren't stressing about it. Just loving each other, living life, seeing what happened.

"Stop thinking so loud," she poked his chest. "I'm starving. Feed me?"

The kitchen was a chef's dream, but Ibou kept it simple – fresh fruit, pastries from the bakery Hassan had recommended, eggs done just how Saniya liked them. She perched on the counter watching him cook, stealing berries and planning their day.

"So beach first? Then that art gallery you mentioned?"

"Sounds perfect." He slid a plate toward her. "Then I got us reservations at Cavalli for dinner. There's this whole show with dancers and everything."

"Ooh, fancy." She swiped a bit of egg with toast. "Good thing I packed that new dress."

"The red one?"

"Maybe." Her grin was wicked. "Guess you'll find out."

The beach was exactly what they needed. Private, peaceful, just them and the endless blue. Saniya looked gorgeous in her burgundy swimsuit, curls wild from the salt air. They splashed in the waves like kids, Ibou chasing her through the surf until she shrieked with laughter.

"Put me down!" she demanded when he caught her, lifting her easily.

"Make me," he challenged, right before she kissed him quiet.

The art gallery was a modern marvel of glass and steel. They wandered hand in hand through exhibitions, making up stories about abstract pieces, Saniya's psychology training giving her unique perspectives on each artist's mindset.

"This one's clearly about maternal longing," she declared about a swirl of blues and golds.

"Pretty sure it's just a fish, belle."

"Everyone's a critic."

Dinner at Cavalli was something else entirely. Saniya had worn the red dress – a flowing thing that made Ibou forget how to breathe for a second. Their table overlooked the whole restaurant, giving them a perfect view of the show.

"This is insane," she whispered as acrobats spun overhead, music pulsing through the space. The lights caught the gold flecks in her eyes, and Ibou found himself watching her more than the performance.

"You're staring again," she murmured during dessert.

"Can't help it." He reached across the table, thumb brushing her knuckles. "You're the best show in here."

Later, walking along the marina under stars that seemed close enough to touch, Saniya tucked into his side. "Thank you for this. All of it."

"Thank you for being here to share it with."

Because that was the thing about love like theirs. Every moment – from breakfast kisses to beach chases to fancy dinners – was better because they were in it together. No pressure, no expectations. Just them, writing their story one day at a time.

The call came during their third morning in Dubai. They were lounging by the infinity pool, Saniya reading one of her psychology journals while Ibou dozed nearby, when her phone buzzed. The moment he saw her face fall, he knew who it was.

"Hi, Mum," she answered, her voice already smaller. Ibou watched his confident, brilliant wife shrink under her mother's words, and something in his chest tightened.

"No, we're not being irresponsible... Yes, I know the season's not over... No, his injuries are fine..." Each response came quieter than the last.

He could hear Mrs. Okafor's voice through the phone, sharp with disapproval. Something about "gallivanting around Dubai" when they should be "settling down properly." About how "mixed marriages never work" and how "that footballer lifestyle" wasn't sustainable.

Saniya's hand trembled slightly as she ended the call. For a moment, she just sat there, staring at nothing.

"Come here," Ibou said softly, opening his arms.

She curled into him like she was trying to disappear. "I don't know why I let her get to me."

"Because she's your mum." He stroked her hair, choosing his words carefully. "Even when she's wrong."

And she was wrong. So wrong. The woman had never given him a real chance, viewing their relationship through a lens of prejudice and fear. She'd been cold at their wedding, barely hiding her disappointment that her daughter had chosen a Muslim footballer instead of the nice Christian banker she'd picked out.

"She thinks we're rushing everything," Saniya mumbled against his chest. "Says we're too young to know what we want."

"And what do you think?"

"I think..." She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. "I think she doesn't understand that some people just know. Like how I knew, that first night, that you were different. Special."

"Tell me again," he encouraged, wanting to draw her out of that dark place her mother's words had pushed her into. "Tell me about that night."

A small smile touched her lips. "You were wearing that ridiculous designer tracksuit..."

"Excuse you, that tracksuit was fresh!"

"It was awful," she laughed, the sound still a bit watery but real. "But then you started talking about your family in Paris, and your eyes got all soft, and I just... knew."

Ibou pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Want to know what I remember?"

"What?"

"How you put salt in your tea by accident because you were so busy arguing about cognitive behavioral therapy. And when I pointed it out, instead of being embarrassed, you just said 'new recipe, don't knock it till you try it.'"

That got a proper laugh out of her. "I was trying to play it cool!"

"You were perfect." He tilted her face up to his. "Still are. No matter what anyone says."

They spent the rest of the morning just being together. Ibou ordered her favorite foods for lunch, then suggested they skip their planned desert safari in favor of a couples massage at the villa's spa. Sometimes healing meant just being still, being held.

"I love you," she whispered later, as they watched the sunset paint the sky in colors no painter could capture. "Even when my family makes things hard."

"Especially then," he replied, because that's what love was. Being there for the hard moments, the quiet tears, the healing laughs.

On their last night in Dubai, they skipped the fancy restaurants and elaborate shows. Instead, they ordered room service and sat on their private beach, feet buried in sand still warm from the day's sun. The stars seemed bigger here, braver, like they were putting on a private show just for them.

Saniya wore his Liverpool training jacket over her sundress, curls wild from a week of sea air and happiness. She was using his chest as a backrest, both of them stretched out on a huge beach blanket, watching waves catch the moonlight.

He pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing in the coconut scent of her shampoo. "We've built something beautiful, haven't we?"

"And we're just getting started."

She was right. Whatever Allah had planned for them – babies, more trophies, challenges, victories – they'd face it together. A team. Partners. A king and his queen, like those fairy tales his little sister loved, but better because it was real.

The call to Isha prayer floated over the water, and Saniya squeezed his hand. Their signal, their rhythm, their dance. But before he moved, she turned in his arms.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For seeing me. All of me. For loving me exactly as I am."

Ibou cupped her face in his hands, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. "That's the easiest thing I've ever done."

Because that was the truth of them. Beyond the football, beyond the headlines, beyond family drama and cultural differences and everything else the world threw at them. They saw each other. They chose each other. Every day.

And if the boys at training still teased him for being sprung, if Twitter still called him the biggest simp in the Premier League, if her mum still hoped she'd "come to her senses" – well, that was their problem.

Because Ibou worshipped his wife. Simple as that. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

[amuyyi]

How Sweet .

synopsis: you somehow find yourself in Vietnam with your best friend Hanni, and the heavy southeast asian heat leaves hanni to her own devices... trope: non-idol!hanni x non-idol!f!reader, best friends to lovers, summer vacation, high school seniors, fluff

wc: 3.9k

cw: none

a/n: hello hello! this is my first fanfic in a long long time, and ive never shared on tumblr before.. but i love hanni's fuckass bob ! please let me know what you guys think, im bit rusty in terms of writing ^^'

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“So… What do you think?”

You stare at your best friend, mouth agape in complete and utter shock as Hanni stood in front of you. With a sheepish expression on her face, your eyes glaze over the silver blades within Hanni’s left hand as she holds a long lock of her naturally jet black air within her right. As your eyes travel upwards, you’re met with a rather uneven, extremely choppy bob planted on the top of your friend’s head alongside some hastily cut bangs. You would’ve thought it was a poorly done wig if she wasn't already holding evidence of her own wrongdoing within her hands. There's an uncomfortable silence that passes between the two of you as you simply stare, your jaw practically threatening to fall off of the base of your skull as you could see the other girl’s eye twitching ever so slightly in response to your silence. 

“Can you please say something?! It's not that bad I swear!” The vietnamese girl whines out, spinning on her heel and making her way back towards the bathroom where she had initially emerged. With Hanni no longer in your line of sight, you snap out of your daze, shaking your head as your brows knit together in confusion, just now beginning to fully process what you had just seen. You practically fall out of your seat on the couch as you scramble to your feet, following after the other girl as you call out, “wait, wait, what?! When did you do that???”

Hanni had made plans for the summer to visit her family back in Vietnam, and had graciously extended an offer for you to join. Excited and albeit a bit nervous, you instantly agreed, having been meaning to make some fun summer plans between the two of you for a while now. Your best friend’s family was sweet, having met her grandmother alongside a few aunts, uncles, and multiple younger cousins who were all pleased to meet your acquaintance. 

Despite the lovely first day of introductions and adjusting to the horrible jet lag you two experienced once landing, you soon learned that summers in Vietnam were, for lack of a better word, brutal. For the entirety of Southeast Asia, the heat during these months were ruthless, practically leaving everyone in sight panting, sweating, and doing anything possible in order to relieve themselves from the scorching sun– and the humidity. Oh, the humidity. The air felt thick and heavy in a way you’ve never experienced before. It almost felt hard to breathe sometimes because everything around you just felt so… sticky. How did Vietnam manage to make even a supposed nice summer breeze feel hot? Hanni had conveniently managed to not mention the intensity of the weather at the time, and as a result, left you two practically melting into the couch, marinating within your own sweat as Hanni’s grandmother left the two of you home alone for the day.

You practically break down the door to the bathroom to find a distressed Hanni increasingly becoming more panicked the longer she looks at her reflection.  “My Ba used to always cut my hair like this whenever I visited over the summer, I thought it’d be easy to replicate!” Hanni exclaims, staring herself down within the mirror as she tries to assess the damage that has been done at every angle possible. Honestly, the whole situation was almost too good. Almost like a scene from a sitcom or something.

Fighting back a snort, you smirk teasingly, “has she always made it so uneven?” Your unsolicited comment left Hanni clicking her tongue in offense, raising her hand holding the scissors threatening to hit you before shifting her gaze back towards the mirror, letting out a distressed groan in defeat. “I don’t even know what came over me, y/n. I think this unbearable heat actually fried my brain,” she runs her free hand through her hair, some poorly cut strands falling out as she winces, “I don’t know! I don’t know! My Ba made it look so easy!” You watch as her eyes dart around, not talking to anyone in particular as the panic seemingly begins to take over, “I can fix it though! If i just cut–”

“Nope.” You firmly grab Hanni’s wrist as she begins to lift the scissors back up towards her hair, cutting her words short as you wrestle the blades out of her grip. “Y/n–” she starts, “Hanni.” You begin, your voice a tone that is similar to that of an owner telling a dog to sit, eyebrows raised and head cocked to the side as you lock eyes with your friend. She silently stares back, mouth open as if to retort, but it soon closes as she sighs, sitting down on a nearby stool in defeat as you also let out a breath you didnt you know you were holding. At least she didn't have free reign over the scissors. 

“Now let me see what I can do about… this,” You hum, dragging the stool closer to where you stood as you get a better look at Hanni’s hair. The scissors she used were very obviously not haircutting scissors, but you doubted she had anything better on hand. Alongside that, she somehow managed to cut drastically uneven halves of her hair, and it was obvious the cuts on both the left and right side were not a clean process, leaving multiple bluntly chopped bits all within her hair. As for the bangs, thankfully she didn’t cut them too short, actually leaving a lot of hair left to work with. Knowing Hanni, she was probably too scared to commit to the act after seeing what she did to the rest of her hair. Now, you were no hair cutting expert, but anyone with eyes could see what needed to be done in order to fix this mess. Hanni awkwardly avoids eye contact seemingly out of embarrassment as you examine her, eyes looking practically anywhere but within yours as you contemplate your next steps, her cheeks faintly dusted a light shade of pink. You raise the scissors and start off by trying to even out both sides of her hair, the quiet snipping sounds filling the bathroom as Hanni sits up as straight as she can, hands placed a bit too formally on her lap. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“Apparently more than you.”

“That's not very comforting.”

“I can always leave your hair like this.”

“Don’t you dare, y/n.” 

Soft, lighthearted giggles erupt from the bathroom as the banter between you two continues. Even in a situation like this, you and Hanni always managed to make each other smile– It's what drew you two to each other. You recall the day you two first met. Through some common friends or the other, somehow you ended up at a picnic within the local park, Hanni being one of the first to arrive. She had brought a container full of fruit to share, and practically dominated the conversation with her cheery attitude– but not in a suffocating kind of way. She somehow managed to know everyone who arrived and they all seemed to naturally flock towards the girl. You were no different than the people she attracted, but you were lucky enough to have her full attention the whole day, her large round eyes attentive and focused on you as you told stories and cracked with everyone. Ever since then, the two of you have been practically inseparable. Always waiting for each other after classes and somehow ending up in comical situations such as this.

After a few more snips of the scissors, you take a step back, taking in your work as Hanni’s eyes flutter open, blinking a bit as she stands up. She approaches the mirror, eyes lighting up as she sees the result. Thanks to your handiwork, her hair had ended up in a lovely dark layered bob with straight across bangs that actually looked intentional. It was a bit shorter than your liking, having the ends land just above her chin, but the other girl didn’t give you much to work with.

“Wow, this actually looks… really good.” Hanni spoke, her voice laced with awe as she continued to admire her reflection, “I kind of look like Mathilda! Y'know, from that kid assassin movie or whatever?” She comments, looking back at you expectantly as you pretend to think for a moment.

“Ah.. That's unfortunate, I was really trying to go for an Edna Mode kind of look… Maybe a bowl cut…” You trail off, feigning regret as you twirl the scissors in your hand, eliciting a snort from Hanni, punching you in the shoulder as you let out a laugh. 

The other girl doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug though, even through all of the laughter, and you tense up for only a moment before melting into her touch, your arms wrapping around her waist as her arms snake comfortably around your neck. The light smell of flowers emerges from the embrace, unintentionally causing you to sigh with pleasure as you can feel the vibrations of Hanni giggling into your neck in response. The feeling left your stomach fluttering with butterflies for some reason. Hanni had always smelt really nice, but this time it was a little different– a little more fresh? Maybe the tropical air was doing something to her. 

“Thank you,” you hear her whisper into your ear gently, and you could feel your cheeks warm at the praise as you pull back shyly tucking a strand of your own hair behind your ear as you shrug, “It really was no big deal,” You trail off as Hanni’s gaze shifts back onto her reflection. “Still, I wasn't expecting it to be so… Short.”

You arch a brow at her as you bluntly state, “Well you didn't give me a whole lot of leeway with your little scissor-happy act over there,” which rewarded you with another punch on the shoulder and a tongue stuck out in a childish manner from the short haired girl.

As the two of you exit the bathroom, Hanni lets out a relieved sigh, “aaah, that feels SO much better!” She cooes, stretching her arms and shaking her head, letting her short hair fly as she grins. You also smile at the sight of your friend so happy, but let out a tired breath shortly after. “Well I’m glad you like it, but it's still hot as hell in here.”

An imaginary lightbulb goes off within Hanni’s head as a grin forms on her lips. “I know a place, c’mon,” Hanni grabs your arm, guiding you outside as you immediately get hit with a wave of heat and a flash of light. Squinting, you use your free arm to try and shield your eyes from the sun above, “Do we HAVE to be outside?” You whine, feeling beads of sweat forming on your forehead almost instantaneously as you’re guided to a rather charming looking vespa parked nearby. It was pastel yellow in color, and had some stickers plastered on the side. You watch in awe as the other girl hops on it with confidence, taking a pair of keys out of her pocket as she pats the free seat behind her, “do you HAVE to keep complaining and not trust me?” 

You are once again brought back to a dumbfounded state as you slowly approach the vespa, admiring its quality and state before your eyes go back to Hanni, “Can you actually drive this thing? You never told me!” An almost cartoonish glimmer shines within her eyes as she winks, pressing a finger to her lips as she playfully grins, “There's a lot you don’t know about me, y/n.”

Very hesitantly, you slowly make your way onto the back seat of the vespa, awkwardly sitting as a brief second of silence passes. Hanni rolls her eyes, chuckling lightheartedly at your uncertainty as she grabs your arms and places them around her waist, “You can trust me with this y/n, I promise.” Her voice was soft and reassuring, and she looked at you with her all too familiar warm eyes that made it nearly impossible to not trust her at that very moment. Besides, Hanni wouldn’t actually let you get hurt, you knew that much. Reluctantly, you let out a sigh and tighten your grip on Hanni’s waist, saying a soft “okay…” which resulted in an unseen smile from the other girl and the sound of the engine to rev confidently.

-

If there was one thing Ho Chi Minh City locals perfected, it was the art of organized chaotic traffic. You fearfully bite back a scream as you watch as oncoming traffic simply did not stop for anyone anywhere ever. People did not look before crossing the street and every vespa, motorbike, car, or other miscellaneous vehicle simply maneuvered around one other to get around. You swear your grip on Hanni at this point would cut off all circulation in her body as she lets out a loud and hearty laugh amongst the chaos, speeding up as she weaves in between pedestrians with ease, as if she's been doing this her entire life. “Hanni what the HELL–”

Soon enough the two of you made it out of the city, and Hanni guides you through the dusty terrain of the more rural areas of Vietnam. You were a bit nervous at first, unsure if you were a fan of the bumpy nature of the rocky road that was debatably either safer or more dangerous than those in the city. Once you realize Hanni was no longer entertaining your fears though, you take a moment to finally get out of your own head and live in the moment. Inhale. Exhale. Your eyes glisten as you take in the sights around you. It was so… Green. The lush flora coats the environment with a serene green glow, and the feeling of the wind flying through your hair was such a freeing feeling. Your grasp on Hanni loosens as you let out a loud cheer, laughing as you let everything go. The dappled spots of light from the overhead trees rush past your vision below as you look forward, spotting multiple ox and farmers ahead within the flooded fields. The clouds ahead looked so incredibly soft, and the sky looked bigger than ever– even bigger than how it looked on the plane ride here. You can't help but wonder if it were nighttime, would you be able to see the stars here? You press your cheek against Hanni’s back as you relish in the feeling for a bit, closing your eyes in bliss as the sounds of the nature around you fade.

Before you knew it, the green forestry surrounding you was slowly diminishing, eventually being replaced with a more beige sandy soil. A small gasp leaves your lips as you look out, spotting a small beach with an even larger body of water. The waves glistened beneath the summer sun and you were surprised such a place had absolutely no human traffic. “I found this place when I first got Sunny here,” Hanni practically reads your mind, also glancing over at the ocean before finding a place to park her vespa and hop off, “It's a place the locals keep a secret, and now you also know of it as well.”

You tilt your head a bit in confusion at her comment, hopping off of the vehicle, “Sunny?” Hanni raises her eyebrow as she points to the back end of the Vespa, a large sticker labeled ‘Sunny’ in large white letters is proudly showcased on Hanni’s vespa, and you mentally facepalm as the other girl giggles. Still, it left a warm feeling within your chest knowing Hanni was sharing a hidden area like this with you.

“Come on, let's go in the water! It's hot out here!!” Hanni exclaims loudly, immediately booking it towards the ocean ahead, kicking her shoes off and into the sand in the process. Your eyes widen as you chase after her, hastily taking your shoes off as well as you call out, “Hanni, wait! We didn’t bring our swim suits!” You hissed a little as the sand was unrealistically hot from the sun practically cooking it throughout the day, muttering out little “ow, ow, ow’s” as you hopscotch your way into the water. You couldn't help but notice Hanni was unbothered by the temperature, her new hair allowing a newfound freshness within her step. It truly seemed like she was made for the beach.

“So…?” Hanni extends the word playfully with a grin, already calf deep into water by the time you awkwardly trudge through the ocean towards her, kicking up liquid in the process and splashing Hanni’s shorts. She gasps in shock at the cold sensation and you open your mouth to apologize before getting cut off by water getting shot directly into your face. Salty water entered your mouth and nearly up your nose and you spat it out, wiping your face with your hands as your eyes focused and landed on the culprit, who stared at you with a mischievous grin, bent down within the water to prepare for her next attack. 

“Oh no you dont–” You immediately side step and just narrowly miss an icy cold splash of water before you, bending over to counterattack with twice as much. A high pitched scream followed by genuine laughter followed suit, and the two of you go at it for a little bit, splashing water back and forth in between fits of laughter, completely drenching your clothes. You were happy. Being here, being with her. You took a moment to truly take in the sight of the girl before you. Eyes crescent shaped as she laughs from her heart, a toothy open mouth grin that you knew was genuine and grew to love over the years, and the way her newly cut hair was soaked and stuck to her cheeks and forehead charmingly. You loved the energy Hanni always brought to the table, her constant smile and the endless surprises she had up her sleeve. You were glad she chose you of all people to be her best… friend.

…Oh.

Hanni however, is not aware of your current sentimental and affectionate internal thoughts towards her, and decides to up her game with a new strategy, smirking to herself as she backs up, building up energy while you were catching your breath. You were so worn out and lost within your own thoughts you only noticed the charging bob-haired girl all too late, “Hanni WAI–” 

Practically all of the air got knocked out of you as Hanni strikes you down with a full body bear hug, sending the both of you into the water with a loud splash. Satisfied with her work (and quite worn out by now) Hanni doesn’t even make an attempt to hold you down, going full dead fish on your chest with an innocent grin and multiple giggles as you prop yourself up within the water with your arms. Coughing pathetically, you use one of your hands to wipe your face and slick back your hair as you look at Hanni, who rests very comfortably between your legs and on your chest, her arms wrapped around your waist as she looks up at you with those big dark brown eyes. Your breath hitches as you realize how close your faces are to one another. It wasn’t like you two haven't been this physically close before, but that never stopped you from being flustered. Something about the way she looks at you sometimes always caught you off guard, and you never knew how to handle it. The last time this happened was at your last sleepover together, having talked about past crushes, relationships, and how dating would work after high school graduation. Something about the way she looked at you underneath the sheets after asking about your crushes made your mind go blank. She had that look in her eyes again, and it drove you crazy how you couldn't read it. Cheeks reddening, you instinctively whip your head away, needing to look at something other than Hanni to keep yourself propped up within the water.

Frowning at this reaction, Hanni reaches a hand up and cusps your cheek, guiding your head to face her once again, forcing you to make eye contact with her. “y/n…” Her tone was soft and airy, if anything it was a bit needy. The blush on your cheeks was apparent at this point, and you still had no idea why you were even blushing in the first place, but the way her eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second intensified the color tenfold. You watch as her eyebrows knit together and how she subconsciously bites her lip, a habit she had whenever she was lost in thought– a sight you were familiar with. Even so, it felt different this time. 

You watch as Hanni closes her eyes and leans in, softly pressing her lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss, a very hesitant one at that. Just a small peck. You could tell it was Hanni’s way of “testing the waters” (ba dum tss) but to you? It was everything. You quite literally felt fireworks within your stomach as she kissed you, and the shock left you simply frozen in place, eyes comically wide open for the very brief moment. All too soon, she pulls away. She looks up at you again, a glint of fear and uncertainty in her eyes as she waits for your reaction.

You take a moment to simply sit there dazed, mouth agape in the water once again as panic settles within Hanni at the silence. “Oh my god. I'm so sorry y/n. I-I thought—“ She had begun to hurriedly make her way off of your chest when you quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into you as you brought your lips together. Now it was Hanni’s turn to freeze up, but it was only for a moment. Almost immediately after, you could hear her blissfully sighing into the kiss as her arms snake their way around your neck, your free hand moving down her back and landing comfortably on the small of it.

Her lips were soft, and tasted ever so lightly like berries despite having been splashed with saltwater multiple times. You’d never think you’d find yourself within the beaches of Vietnam, kissing your best friend, yet here you were. The sound of waves surrounds the two of you as you find yourself lost within the movements of her lips. You felt her pull away for air and you almost let out a whine at the sudden lack of contact before she starts peppering kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, nose, chin, forehead, everywhere. “You look so pretty right now y/n-nie~” Hanni cooes as you roll your eyes, pulling her in closer as she focuses her kisses onto your cheek. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” you tease, getting a hum in response as Hanni brings you back in for another kiss, whispering “you have no idea..”

“So… Do you have a crush on me or something?”

“Do you not like me back, y/n?”

“Well… I don't know about that...”

“I'm going to leave you here.”

“Noooo~”

Several splashes and giggles erupted from the both of you, and suddenly summer just became a little sweeter.

[bl-bracket]

Mini-Bracket: Best Marriage Proposal in a QL

So, as many of y'all may have heard, as of June 18, 2024 the marriage equality bill just got passed in Thailand, making it the first Southeast Asian country to legalize same sex marriage and also only one of three countries in all of Asia to legalize it (Taiwan legalized it 2019 and Nepal legalized it in 2024 as well). While technically it won't fully go into effect for another 120 days, I've planning to do something to celebrate it for a while so with great pleasure I introduce the first mini-bracket: Best Marriage Proposal in a QL!!!

What's a mini-bracket? Well since we are currently still in the Most Unhinged Bracket (currently in the finals and about halfway through the loser bracket) and I have a planned hiatus coming up due to traveling, what it really means is that there will be a shorter submission time, no prelims, all one-day long polls, and will be running at the same time as everything else. This is just supposed to be a little fun thing to celebrate marriage equality!

Same base rules apply (which you can read in the form and in the pinned post) EXCEPT this time I'm going to open it up to all QLs! While GLs are still in the early stages of becoming an established industry compared to BLs (and thus it still feels kinda unfair to them if I were to say that that the brackets were for all qls but would still be like 90% bl at least), it didn't feel right to not include them in this one!

Also there's some extra rules this time!

For the purposes of this poll, the proposal MUST be for a queer couple (mlm or wlw)

While this is to celebrate gay marriage being legalized in Thailand, any East Asian live action bl is eligible

It must be a legitimate marriage proposal, not just an offhand comment about wanting to get married in the future or making some other type of serious commitment as a couple that isn't marriage (like moving in together). Those are all good, but not what I'm wanting to highlight here. 

Submissions Close on June, 22 @ 7 PM GMT

Submit your favorite marriage proposals in a QL Here!

@tournament-announcer