#cabbage items

[littlethingsmart]

(source)

[pepsimanan]

OH MY GOD??? YOUR ART IS SO PRETTY!!!!! <3

if you're still taking vsynth requests... have you ever drawn our queer icon Ritsu Namine...

#21 namine ritsu also, tysm!!

[diddlydarndoodles]

I’ve been working on a discduo themed sky fan season!! Here’s Dream’s— the spirit guide’s— spirit design and cosmetics. He gives you a mask, cape, outfit and (as an ultimate reward) umbrella!! He also gives a ‘concerned’ emote, even though spirit guides don’t usually give emotes— he leans to the side and peers at the object of his concern while wringing his hands. The level three and four versions could involve him hunching over a bit and biting his nails.

[athenasdragon]

I finished the community center in stardew valley for the first time!!!

[gaybd1]

I’d usually pick Mango Season or possibly even Watermelon Season as my fave Local Fruit Time but every winter when I taste those strawberries…. damn….

[mutechild]

sobbing

[literaryvein-reblogs]

50 Terms of Endearment

This selection of words used as terms of endearment over the past thousand years shows several items that have stood the test of time, notably darling and dear, and some recurring motifs, such as those from the semantic fields of taste and the animal kingdom. But several belong to their own time: bawcock and bully, for example, are encountered in Shakespeare.

darling (c. 888) ⚜ dear (c. 1230) ⚜ sweetheart (c. 1290)

heart (c. 1305) ⚜ honey (c. 1375) ⚜ dove (c. 1386)

cinnamon; love (c. 1405) ⚜ mulling (c. 1475) ⚜ daisy (c. 1485)

mouse (c. 1520) ⚜ whiting (c. 1529) ⚜ fool (c. 1530) ⚜ beautiful (1535)

soul (c. 1538) ⚜ bully (1548) ⚜ lamb (c. 1556) ⚜ pussy (c. 1557)

ding-ding (1564) ⚜ lover (1573) ⚜ pug (1580) ⚜ mopsy (1582)

bun (1587) ⚜ wanton (1589) ⚜ ladybird (1597) ⚜ chuck (1598)

sweetkin (1599) ⚜ duck; joy (1600) ⚜ sparrow (c. 1600)

bawcock (c. 1601) ⚜ nutting (1606) ⚜ tickling (1607)

bagpudding (1608) ⚜ dainty (1611) ⚜ flitter-mouse (1612)

pretty (1616) ⚜ old thing (c. 1625) ⚜ duckling (1630) ⚜ sweetling (1648)

pet (1767) ⚜ sweetie (1778) ⚜ cabbage (1840) ⚜ prawn (1895)

so-and-so (1897) ⚜ pumpkin (1900) ⚜ pussums (1912)

treasure (1920) ⚜ sugar (1930) ⚜ lamb-chop (1962)

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Notes: On Love ⚜ Love Advice ⚜ "I love you" Word Lists: Love Pt. 1 Pt. 2 ⚜ Physiology of Love ⚜ Synonyms ⚜ Kinds of Love

[thirst2]

Saw one of the grocery stores near us had BBQ wings so I got some blue cheese and ranch dressing and made some Greek salad and am channelling the Wings craze of my middle/high school youth.

[freshbasket]

The Large veg box is perfect and sufficient for the whole family filled with no less than 14 different types of fresh veg for you all to enjoy. This colorful array of premium category veg will put healthy veg centre stage in your taste and cooking. each week we will change at least 8 of the items in the box. Using this box will easily help you achieve your 5 a day. We will pack your box with the freshest produce and deliver it straight to your door.Perfect for 3 – 5 people.

call now : +64-21773-178

[littlethingsmart]

(source)

[dresshistorynerd]

Sewing 1890s Day Dress in Doll Scale

I went slightly overboard with this second historical doll project. Here's my first one. The style is from around 1897 and more of a middle class style. As with my first doll outfit, I tried to stick to historical methods as much as possible, but the scale forced me to do some deviations. I hand-sew everything though sewing machine was already widely used, because in this scale it's easier to control the stitch, there's not that much to sew anyway and also I just really like hand-sewing. Here's all the items I made. As said, I went a little overboard. One thing that's missing is the corset cover, but the layers of fabric were creating enough bulk on the waist as is so I decided to not make one.

This time I decided to try repainting the face. I don't have any doll customization materials, so I used acrylics. After couple of attempts I got decent results. Acrylics can't make as smooth and delicate finish as pastels, pencils and gouache, which can be used on vinyl with basing sprays, and I'm not experienced with painting small details on 3D objects, so it's a bit smudged at points, especially with the other eye. I aimed for 1890s very neutral make up and the type of expression that was popular in fashion plates and other illustrations.

Undergarments

Combinations and stockings

The combinations are split crotch as they were in the period. They are from thin cotton voile I have a lot of and is very appropriate. I didn't have really tiny enough lace for this, so it's kinda bulky, but I think it's okay enough. The stockings are cotton knit, which fits well. The garters are not actually necessary for this doll since her legs are rubbery.

Corset

I made the corset from a firm-ish linen and satin rayon pretending to be silk as the fashion fabric. The stitching of the boning channels is not super neat, this fabric is very unforgiving, I didn't have exactly matching thread and the scale made it very difficult. I of course didn't have tiny busk, so I used small hooks, sewed thread loops for them and used narrow metal wire for the edges. I think it looks surprisingly right on the outside. I used the same wire as the boning to reinforce the lacing on the back. I didn't actually use boning elsewhere but the tightly packed linen edges in the boning channels kinda work like lighter boning. I think it keeps the shape pretty ways even with just that. I stitched cotton tape inside to shape the corset further. I also didn't have tiny metal eyelets so I hand-sewed the lacing holes.

Bustle pad

The bustle pad is from linen and stuffed with tiny cabbage.

Petticoat

The petticoat is from the same cotton as the combinations.

Outer wear

Skirt

The fabric is cotton half-panama. It's pretty thin, but firm. I would have liked to use a woven wool, but I didn't have any that's thin enough to work in this scale. I think this cotton looks close enough in this scale to a wool with a tight weave, so I'm imagining it's that. My problem was that the cotton was white, but I wanted light brown. I wasn't going to buy any fabric for this, so I did the reasonable thing and dyed it with red onion peals (I've been doing natural dye experiments so this worked well for me).

Shirtwaist

The shirtwaist is from the same cotton as the undergarments. Yes, I dyed it too. I didn't have thin enough cotton in a color that would fit with the skirt and the purple bow, so I dyed it light blue with fabric color. Since I already went the trouble of dyeing I decided I might as well make a small flower print to it since that was popular in the era. I didn't want it to jump out too much but the lighting makes it even less visible. I made it with a white fabric pen. The collar and cuffs are reinforced with linen. I also sewed small stick-like beads to the cuffs on both sides, so one acts as a button (I sewed a buttonhole too) and the other makes it look like they are cufflinks. The bow is from the same fabric as the corset and the belt is sewn from the same cotton as the shirtwaist. The buckle is from a barbie belt.

Waistcoat

The waistcoat is from the same fabric as the skirt, thought the lapels and the back are from another satin rayon. I tailored the front panels and the lapels by stitching the linen interlining with tailor's stitches (I don't remember if that's the correct word in English) into shape. There is some wonkiness on one side of the hemline for some reason.

Boots

I made the slightly insane decision to make the shoes fully from leather, like they would have been in the period. I had an old broken leather wallet I had saved in case I needed some leather scarps. It has fairly thin leather, so it was workable here. It's light brown though, so I used black shoe polish to darken it. I wanted black or very dark brown shoes. I stacked the heels from glue and leather pieces and carved them into the right shape and sewed the shoe itself to leather shaped as the sole and glued it to the heeled and shaped sole. After I had shaped the shoes and the heels as much as I could I painted the heels black.

[purinfelix]

yes Ollie fics I BEGGG🙏🏻🙏🏻

sweet as sugar ⟡ ݁₊ . - ollie bearman

summary: it isn't everyday you see a classmate shopping at the grocery store you work at, especially not when he's buying the most expensive ingredients possible. w/c: 3.4k

a/n: your wish is my command !!! been binging the bear necessities vlogs so i felt verrrryyy inspired for this one (also bc i recently started a second job as a checkout chick HAHA)

Working at a grocery store was far from glamorous - but given that it was close to your university, you figured it was definitely far from the worst part-time job you could've taken up. In between stocking shelves and dealing with rude customers, it hadn't been too bad, and that was the reason you had stayed for over a year.

In that time, you had seen your fair share of things. Given that the dorms were so close by, it wasn't uncommon for you to recognise people from class. Often they were polite enough to start up some small talk or ignore you completely, leaving with several bags of instant ramen and frozen garlic bread, more than enough to last them the week.

But this, this was new.

"Oh, hi," he lets out, polite and a little shy as he piles his groceries onto your conveyer belt.

"Hey," you let out, a little drawn out to show your confusion at the multi-coloured produce headed towards you. You spot a couple radishes, a whole head of cabbage and several jars of spice amongst everything else. "Do you have your own bags?"

"Oh, yeah," he mumbles, reaching into his back pocket and producing several reusable bags, most of them from your grocery store chain - you find it a little cute, though you don't say anything.

"I think I've seen you around, you know," he says quickly, refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room as he positions the bags. You drag your focus away from the items you're scanning and study his face instead - he's tall but boyish, and his eyes are round and innocent as he looks at you.

"Right, Professor Royce's class, stats right?"

His expression lights up, almost out of relief at you not asking about the groceries. "Yeah! It's tough, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and he marks really strict as well, a friend of mine got a quarter mark taken off because her power wasn't written high enough."

"Jeez, that's rough," he laughs, and his eyes flicker between yours and your hands as you bag the last of his things.

"Your total will be $75.80," you announce, pulling a face to show that you don't envy how much he's going to have to pay - but to your surprise, his expression doesn't falter as he reaches for his wallet, pulls out his credit card and taps it without another word.

"Thanks, see you around," he smiles, as he takes his several bags with ease and leaves, the automatic doors closing behind him. You find yourself watching him, gaze lingering as his lean figure grows smaller and smaller in the direction of the dorms. What could he possibly be using that kind of food for, how many people was he planning on feeding - and most importantly, what sort of dorm fridge would fit all that?

You hear an annoyed grunt from in front of you as you're once reminded of your job, turning to face a stern-looking woman. "Sorry ma'am," you let out, beginning to scan her items - though your mind doesn't leave him, not for a while.

Given how much he had bought, you didn't think you'd run into your classmate at your job for a while. To your surprise though, it's less than a week until you see him again, and for about a month he continues showing up weekly - and as fate would have it, always when you were on shift and at your register.

What's even weirder though, is the fact that the two of you barely make it beyond awkward small talk about the singular class you share in common or the weather lately. Still, you manage to glean some information - his name (Ollie), his major (marketing) amongst other, smaller, details like the fact that he normally comes in the mornings to get the freshly baked loaves of bread, or that he has an unusually large collection of reusable grocery bags.

For the most part, you don't mind, working at a grocery store register has made you vulnerable to over a year of awkward conversations. What seems to actually get to you though, is the gnawing curiosity of just what on earth he could be using all this for because, at the rate you see him, he can't be the only one eating it.

You're busy pondering this thought, mindlessly stocking shelves mere minutes before closing one night - until you notice a familiarly lanky figure creep up behind you.

"Oh!" you gasp out in surprise, but when you spot the full grocery basket in his hand you dart quickly behind the register to help him. For a minute it seems like your opportunity to get to the bottom of this mystery has reared its head.

However, from the awkward smile he gives you in greeting and the way he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets while he scoots up to your register - you're inclined to just mind your own business and leave the poor boy alone. That is until you break eye contact with him and turn to the items now moving towards you.

He seems to have replaced his normal fresh produce and meat for dessert ingredients, and you watch as several bars of dark chocolate - the most expensive brand your store carries, at that - cartons of eggs and sacks of flour make their way towards you.

"Okay Ollie I'm sorry, but I have to ask," you hold your hands out as you preface your question, "What on earth do you do with all this stuff?"

"Oh, I mean, a boy's gotta eat right?" He laughs shyly, causing you to furrow your brows to show your doubt.

"I don't mean to judge but, surely that's a lie."

He looks almost disappointed at the fact that you don't believe his obviously made-up excuse, as he looks down at his feet to avoid eye contact.

“Well, you see,” he starts, and you can hear the squeaking sound of his sneakers against the store floor. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” 

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad,” you reply, waiting for him to hit you with it, only to be met with a moment of silence as the two of you just stand there, even the conveyor belt refusing to move. 

“What, you cooking for a roster of girls every night?” You joke, desperate to diffuse the suffocating silence. 

“Wh- no!” he replies immediately, hands springing up in defence, causing you to let out a low laugh. 

“Well?” 

He takes a step closer to the register, looking around as if to make sure no one will eavesdrop - despite the two of you being the only ones in the store - before whispering to you. “I’m an influencer, like, a cooking influencer. 

You hear yourself let out a shocked laugh, and Ollie’s eyes widen in response as his cheeks burn up. 

“Sorry, that sounded mean, but that’s actually really cool!” you blurt out. 

“Oh,” he laughs in relief, “I mean it’s not that cool.” He shuffles around awkwardly to help you bag his groceries, though you’re pretty sure he’s just eager to avoid eye contact. 

“Home come I’ve never heard of you before?” 

“Well, I keep it anonymous,” he sighs, “not many people in real life know.” 

“Wow, you’re a proper Peter Parker.” 

“Yeah, if his superpower was stuffing up puff pastry for the third time.” 

“$32,” you read out his total, pausing before following up, “you know, I don’t know if I completely believe you.” 

“Wh- why would I lie?” he asks as he taps his card. 

“I don’t know, to hide the fact that you’re actually cooking for a never ending rotation of girlfriends.” 

“Oh please, I wish that was the case,” you quirk your eyebrow at his response, showing just how much you’re struggling to believe him. As he loops his arms through the several grocery bags, he catches sight of your expression. 

“Wh- look me up then!” 

“Alright, what’s your username,” you say, whipping out your phone. 

He seems to regret his words, his voice immediately shrinking to a shy tone, “promise you won’t make fun of it.” 

“Just tell me Ollie.” 

“It’s, @ bear in the kitchen.” 

You have to fold your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh as you type the user into your search bar. However, once it pops up your eyes widen in shock instantly.

“Ten thousand followers? Ollie, holy shit!” He lets out a little chuckle as you continue to scroll through his posts. “God this stuff looks amazing.” 

“Alright, just don’t tell anyone about it okay? I don’t need this spreading around,” he sighs nervously. 

Lowering your phone, you feel an idea coming to you, “well what’s in it for me?” 

Once again, you watch his brows rise in shock as he chews on his bottom lip, thinking. You’re about to break the silence to tell him you’re only kidding, and that of course you wouldn’t tell anyone and that it’s totally f-

“What time do you get off?” 

“Wh- in about five minutes?” 

“Do you want to come watch?” 

“Watch what?” 

“Me cook, duh,” he says, making it seem like you’re the one being crazy here. 

“Huh?” 

“I live in the dorms so it isn’t too far and you could even try some of it if you want, unless you’ve got something on after this that is.” 

“I mean, not really.” 

“Great, then, help me with these will you?” 

So that’s how you ended up closing up a little earlier, and then helping your classmate Ollie - who a couple weeks ago had been little more than a stranger - carry his ingredients back to his dorm. If you had told anyone that, they probably would’ve called you crazy, and you would’ve agreed. But still, no matter how many times you tried to wake yourself up from this strange dream, you were still there - closing the store, in the elevator with him, even watching as he struggled to use his keys to open his dorm. 

“I got lucky with the dorm lottery this year,” he explained as he finally managed to get the door unlocked, “I think it’s supposed to be for special accomodation students but no one took it so, I figured I would.” 

“Woah,” was all you could say as he ushered you in and shut the door quickly behind you. And woah was correct, given that his 'room' was the size of a small apartment, and much much bigger than any of the other shoeboxes most students got. Aside from the usual bed and desk, he also had his own small lounge room and bathroom - and of course, a kitchenette, which you recognised from the background of his videos. "Lucky is an understatement."

All he does is let out a low laugh in response as he lifts the grocery bags onto the counter, prompting you to do the same. "Do you want my help?" you ask.

"No, I mean you're my guest if anything, so you can just pull up a chair and watch," he offers you a warm smile before turning to unload the bags, stuffing condiments into cupboards and tossing things into the fridge. You do as he says, finding yourself a stool and scooting it over to the counter so you can watch him.

You're amazed, obviously by the fact that someone as unexpected as a boy from your statistics class has a cooking page, but more so by the nature of his movements. After setting up his phone on a small tripod and clicking record, he falls into a rhythm that's mesmerisingly beautiful to watch. Every grab of a bowl or flick of his wrist as he whisks this and stirs that, like a conductor bringing together a symphony.

You don't realise how long you've been silent until he looks up at you, almost as if to silently ask if you have any questions, all the while he's separating a couple egg yolks from their whites.

"So, what exactly are you making?"

"Mille-feuille," he responds.

"Milly- huh?"

He laughs softly at your attempt to mirror his pronunciation. "It's a French dessert, basically just puff pastry with some cream but it's a pain to make."

"So why are you making it?"

"Well, it's fun, I guess? It's nice to challenge myself to do things, even if it takes me a while, the satisfaction of mastering it is really like nothing else." He turns to you, a slight sparkle in his eye and you're taken aback by the pure passion in the way he talks.

"Wow, you really enjoy this, why are you studying at university then? Why not do this full-time as a chef or something?"

"Don't be silly, this is just like a hobby there's no way I could make it a job."

"Ten thousand people seem to say otherwise," you say, and as he pulls a couple things out of the oven and places them on the counter he turns to look at you with an expression that's equal parts confused and surprised. "Well, ten thousand people plus me."

He smiles earnestly, though you can tell you've made him a little shy by the way his cheeks are flushed. "Well, you haven't even tried it yet."

"You're right, how much longer?"

"Maybe another five minutes, why do you need to go?" His expression morphs into one of worry, almost as if he's pleading you not to leave.

"No," you laugh, "I'm fine to stay for as long as you want me to."

"Okay, good, I just," he says, searching for an excuse, "I just want you to taste it before you go."

"Right," you hum, looking around his dorm, or more his apartment complex. "If I had a space as big as this I'd probably throw a party every second night."

"Oh nah, parties aren't really my thing." You watch as he looks down shyly and for the first time, you notice the way the dim kitchen lights illuminate his soft brown curls.

You notice that the only thing separating the two of you is a couple inches of marble countertop and that this is the longest conversation you've had with him, ever. You notice, when his brown eyes rise to meet yours, that the bashful smile spread across his face makes your heart rate quicken a bit more - and for the couple of seconds you're able to hold eye contact with him, you're thinking about how oddly intimate this moment is.

A loud ringing sound brings you back to the current moment - the timer that Ollie set a couple minutes ago signalling that his dish is ready to plate. You straighten up on your stool, eyes darting around as the boy across from you hurries to take out a plate. You pull out your phone, just to have something to do with your hands, but as you do you hear a couple soft groans coming from Ollie's direction.

"Hey," you hear his timid tone call out to you, "could you help me?"

Hopping off of your stool, you pad your way over to where he's bent at an awkward angle, trying his best to hold a broken sheet of puff pastry together.

"Just put your hands where mine are," he instructs you, and you do as he says, allowing him to let out a sigh of relief as he reaches for a piping bag. As he does, you notice the phone camera pointed directly towards you.

"Won't I be in your shot?" you ask nervously.

"Don't worry, your face won't be in it and I can edit it out if you want," he brushes you off, clearly more concerned with the structural integrity of his dessert.

"Oh, right."

"Wait, just-" his voice is just above a whisper and before you realise what's happening you feel his warm touch on yours as he nudges your hands slightly into position. You try not to overthink the fact that his touch alone makes you feel so flustered that you almost drop the pastry. "Okay, hold still."

"Yes, chef," you joke in as serious a tone as you can, trying to alleviate the suddenly intimate tension between you two. You watch silently as he pipes a couple of dollops of custard onto the pastry then nudges you once more to let you know you can let go as he reaches for the last piece of pastry to place on top.

The two of you stand back, and you hear him let out a proud huff as he rests his hands on his hips. "Finally," he breathes, reaching into a drawer to retrieve a spoon.

As you watch him break apart the pastry he spent the last hour trying to perfect, you catch the tender smile he gives you and feel your heart warm at the fact that he seems so different to the awkward, shy boy you first served a couple weeks ago. The image of your classmate, who you only ever saw shuffling out of class as soon as possible, melts away as Ollie confidently scoops some of the custard onto the spoon.

You wait for him to bring it to his own lips, but instead watch it take a turn towards you, his eyes catching yours.

"Here," he smiles, "a payment for your help."

"Wh-" You're taken aback, partially by him not wanting to taste his own food first, but mostly by the fact that he seems to be insisting on feeding it to you. Obediently, you open your mouth and he feeds you the dessert, other hand cupping your chin to catch any crumbs that fall - and you can only hope he doesn't feel how hot your face gets when he does.

"Holy shit Ollie, that's delicious!" You exclaim, watching as his eyes survey your expression.

"Really? That's a relief then," he laughs, taking his own serving of the dessert, nodding thoughtfully as he tastes it. For the thousandth time that night, the two of you stand in silence, just looking at each other - though it's less awkward than you thought and more comfortable.

Until you see your phone on the countertop buzz awake and you catch sight of the time.

"Oh crap, it's past midnight!" you gasp, reaching for it and sending a text back to your roommate, who's probably wondering where you are.

"Do you need to get back?" Ollie asks, brows furrowed.

"Yes, I'm sorry, and thank you for all this it really was amazing-" you ramble out as you try your best to shove your feet into your shoes by the doorway. He seems a little lost by your sudden movements, dropping the spoon and padding his way over to you.

"Do you need me to walk you home?"

"No, no it's fine, I'm just in the next building and you should probably get to cleaning up all this anyways," you gesture to the small mess of used pans and bowls waiting for him in the kitchen behind.

"Right," you catch a tinge of disappointment in his tone, "well get home safe okay?"

"I will," you insist, letting out small grunts as you finally manage to get your second shoe on, "oh, and send me the video you post about this, I want to see my cameo!"

He laughs, "of course."

You're just about to reach for the doorknob and bid him farewell when you hear his voice pipe up again, a little less sure this time.

"Oh and hey, do you think you'd want to do this again?"

"Come over and watch you cook?" You're a little confused by his request since you were sure you had just been in his way all night.

"Yeah, I mean it's nice to have someone keep me company, and help me out when I need it," his hand rubs the back of his nape as he looks at the floor.

"Sure, I'd love to Ollie, you know where to find me anyways."

"Checkout number 4," he laughs, "goodnight."

"Goodnight Ollie," you respond with a smile and a wave before opening his dorm door and leaving.

It's only once you're out in the night air, frantically rushing from his building to yours - that you notice the smile hasn't left your face.

(and as a little something extra, a mockup of ollie's account :)) )

taglist: reply/send an ask to be added!

@multifan-idk @presleycaudle @hadesnumber1daughter @monbear38

[buffetlicious]

In my previous post, I mentioned that we were going out to eat at the newly opened restaurant in Sun Plaza. This is the Nan Yang Dao (南洋岛) restaurant we patronized, and boy was it packed. We were given just one menu so I gave it to mum to let her choose what she wanted. And she picked the Penang Fried Kway Teow (槟城炒粿条) I wanted to eat so I chose something else. My mum had barely eaten it when one random woman asked if the dish was good. She told her that it was indeed yummy. Stir-fried with bean sprouts, plump prawns, slices of fish cake and Chinese sausage, the kway teow were more savoury than sweet and full of wok hei. The noodles were mildly spicy but nothing we can’t handle.

Originally, this Signature Trio Mini Noodles (招牌迷你烫面) consisting of three different mini sized bowls of noodles were intended for mum but she had chosen hers. From right to left, I started off with the Pork Ball Noodle Soup (吊片猪肉丸面汤). Tasted like our fish ball noodle but with two springy pork balls. The yellow noodles, bean sprouts and shredded cabbage is soaked in the flavourful and wholesome broth.

The next bowl, I tried is the Penang Prawn Noodle Soup (槟城虾面) but the prawn is nowhere to be found! Instead, I get slices of pork, fishcake, bean sprouts and a quarter of an egg. Luckily, the yellow noodles were swimming in umami filled broth cooked with the extracted oil from the prawns’ head and shell.

So, this is where the prawn jumped itself into. The Seafood Curry Mee (海鲜咖喱面) had only one seafood and that is the prawn. The other so-called seafood were mainly prawn rolls or other items made from fish or prawn paste. The spicy curry cooked with coconut milk is rich and flavourful which goes well with the yellow noodles. If you are the type who likes to try many different dishes at once, be sure to order this trio of mini noodles.

To finish the meal, I had the Bear Iced Coffee (小熊冰镇咖啡). Came in a small jug and topped with a cute little ice bear. I love the thick bitter yet not too sweet milk coffee. We were seated next to the glass cabinet filled with lovely and yummy looking Puff Pastry Egg Tarts (酥皮蛋挞). Many customers were seen buying but we had to give them a miss as we were just too full at that moment. But we will order it the next time we are here.

[ghostflowerdreams]

When Fatima tried to enter the Colony House, it seemed like the door was locked. She got distracted by the smell of rotten vegetables, but the other woman entered without any trouble. Looking back, it’s almost always Ellis or someone else opening the doors for her. Could this mean she’s turning into a monster, or that her baby is one? That feels like the obvious route to take with her story, but it could just be a regular pregnancy, like Marielle suggested. Maybe they're trying a bit of misdirection with the audience, eh?

What did Marielle say, that it's hyperemesis gravidarum? Apparently, it's a severe form of morning sickness characterized by extreme nausea, persistent vomiting, which can lead to significant weight loss, dehydration, and electrolyte imbalances. Repeated vomiting can wear down tooth enamel and increase the risk of decay—not exactly tooth loss, but her condition is likely worse than others due to the lack of access to a dentist and basic oral hygiene products like toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash.

The next question is: why is she eating rotten vegetables? This could be explained by pica, an eating disorder that can occur when the body is low on essential minerals and nutrients like iron and zinc. Pica can happen at any time, to anyone, and women can develop pica during pregnancy. Some people might eat substances like dirt, clay, cornstarch, or even other non-food items like stones, mothballs, and paint chips. Given that she hasn’t eaten anything in three days, it’s quite possible that she has developed pica.

Some people have suggested the food was intentionally rotted to provide her with something to eat. This could hint at her having a monster baby, but it may also be unrelated.

Whatever force controls the monsters and the town clearly operates under its own set of rules, which are always rigged in its favor. It takes something away while offering something in return.

A lot of people in the Colony House died, but then a bus full of people show up. Interestingly, I can't recall who it was, but someone expressed concern about not having enough food to feed everyone. Shortly after, we see that the crops they were growing have all rotted away. Now, they really don't have enough food to feed everyone.

Tian Chen remained hopeful, suggesting they could grow the food by planting the crops in different locations to find suitable soil. Then, Jim and Kenny discover a patch of cabbages growing amid the remnants of an old village. That location wasn't there before, but now they have enough food again and a new place for their crops to grow.

It feels as though something is listening; it knows what’s on their mind, and offers them hope (or makes their fear a reality), only to crush it later. The townspeople aren’t just a source of entertainment for it, they’re likely the very means by which it sustains itself. It's their fears and hopes that make their despair (or soul) all the sweeter to consume.

Why else would the radio in the dinner turn on when Kenny was grieving? It taunted him, but at the same time, that radio was the same one that gave Boyd a sign to explore the forest.

It's clear that some kind of overseer entity is listening and watching them all. I wonder how long it will take for them to realize they need to be more careful about what they say aloud, as their words seem to manifest into existence.