#making a delicious bisque

[raven]

I like soup... Never misconstrue my words or assume i dont like soup. but, 9 times out of 10, im like.. this could be over rice. maybe this should be over rice. ive never eaten a curry and been like "i wish i was eating soup". you know how many times i eat soup and am like "i wish i was eating curry"... well thats pretty often

[pucksandpower]

Young Love and Old Money

Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader

Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring

You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.

“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”

You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”

Max grins. “I can handle it.”

The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.

Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.

This dinner needs to go perfectly.

Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.

“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”

You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”

Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”

You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”

Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”

Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”

Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”

You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.

The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.

“Delicious,” Max compliments.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”

You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.

But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”

Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”

“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”

You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.

The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.

Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”

Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.

You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.

You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”

“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”

“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.

“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.

You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.

“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.

Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.

You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.

Oh no.

This is bad.

Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”

Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”

You sink down in your chair, wincing.

Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”

A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.

Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”

Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.

“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”

“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”

Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”

You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”

But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”

Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”

Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”

Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”

“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”

Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”

Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”

Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.

Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”

“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.

You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.

Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”

Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”

Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”

You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.

As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.

He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”

***

The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”

You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”

The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”

Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”

You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”

“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”

“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.

In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.

“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”

Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”

“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.

You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.

“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.

The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”

You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”

You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”

“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”

You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.

You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.

This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.

Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.

“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.

You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”

Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.

It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.

“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”

You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.

Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”

You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.

“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”

He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”

You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”

Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”

He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.

Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”

Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”

Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”

Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.

Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.

***

The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.

You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.

“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.

“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.

You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.

“You’re the greatest, Max!”

“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”

“We love you so much!”

You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.

As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”

Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.

“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”

You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?

Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?

Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.

Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.

Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.

You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.

“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.

Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.

“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”

He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?

Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”

You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.

“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”

Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.

“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.

Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”

Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”

Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”

Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”

You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”

He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”

Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.

“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”

Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”

You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”

Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”

He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.

For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.

Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”

The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.

By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.

As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”

He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”

You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.

“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”

His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.

***

The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.

“You ready for this, liefje?”

You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”

This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.

You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.

Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.

About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”

Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”

The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”

You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.

“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”

Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”

You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.

The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”

You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”

“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”

You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”

The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”

You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...

You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.

“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.

You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.

“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”

Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”

Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.

Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.

You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.

Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.

Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.

"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”

The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.

After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”

He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”

Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”

Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Max.”

[jbbartram-illu]

Before:

(This is a shot from right as the kiln was reaching temperature / I promise the gap - which is a thing that happens at the hotter temps - isn't as dramatic as it looks...that's just the brightness!)

...and AFTER!!!

THE GLAZE FIRE WAS A SUCCESS!!!!!!!

Like, even better than I expected! I'm always ready for a disaster after every firing, which makes the taste of success even sweeter & for this, my first ever glaze fire in my new kiln? It's the most delicious success I've ever had!

These are just a few highlights from the batch, which had 96 little glaze test bowls/creatures & allowed me to test a the two new glaze sample sets I got for xmas (Spectrum's floating glazes & their line of shinos).

Next up, bisque firing my first batch of actual-sculptures/vessels (some of which are seen below) & forging ahead with kiln ownership! EEK!!!

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Sanji Flirting With You While He Waits On You

OPLA Sanji X FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Flirting

Word Count: 800

(A/N:) It feels so good to be writing again! It has been crazy around here and it's just going to get worse with the holidays coming up! I hope to write more soon as my drafts are so full of ideas so keep an eye out for more stories to come, cause just because I haven't been writing much doesn't mean that I've quit! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The Baratie was the talk across the span of the East Blue and you had been dreaming of the food for weeks. With a reservation made in advanced you counted down the days until the moment finally arrived. The doors opening before you, beckoning you inside with an extravaganza of wonderful and delicious smells. Lead to a table closest to the kitchen, the host left you with a polite smile and promising your waiter would be with you shortly. Despite dining alone, you dressed nicely and put a light layer of makeup on. You enjoyed looking nice and you didn't let your relationship status keep you from wearing things you enjoy or eating at restaurants like the Baratie. Despite the host's promise it was taking a little bit for your waiter to make his way to your table. The place was busy and you could wait patiently, though you did wish they would at least bring you some water to sip on.

Taking in the extravagant decorations that surrounded you, you didn't pay much attention to the commotion going on in the kitchen until a loud clatter caused you to jump. Out from the swinging double doors a young blond haired man stomped out with a large mustached man following right behind. Feeling a little guilty you couldn't help but watch the scene play out. Both men continued to shout at one another before the younger one tugged off his apron and tossed it at the older chef. His hands in his pockets he ignored the enraged shouts coming from the head chef. The other patrons quickly turned away so you took that as your cue to do the same. You watched the blond talk with the waiter before he nodded and headed in your direction. You gulped, suddenly dreading being there as you didn't want to make him mad. You could tell he was still seething but as he got closer to your table his shoulders relaxed and he grinned brightly at you.

"Welcome to the Baratie madam. Pardon the rough housing, but we hope it doesn't frighten you away. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

You couldn't help but gap in awe. How he could go from enraged to a perfect gentleman astounded you. He waited patiently before you were finally able to speak.

"A-a glass of water please," you answered a bit flustered.

"Absolutely. Any preferences?"

"No just water please."

"As you wish," he winked. "My name is Sanji by the way and I look forward to serving you for as long as you need me to."

You couldn't help but smile as he walked away, leaving you feeling giddy and excited to see what else he could flatter you with tonight.

Moments later he arrived with your water and set it before you with a flourish that had you smiling.

"Now could I start our lovely guest off with something delicious like our lobster bisque? Or would the madam prefer something sweet to go along with her personality?"

"Let me ask you this," you smirked. "Is the bisque as smooth as my waiter?"

Sanji chuckled, "Not quite. You may be the smoothest one here darling."

Not sure how you could top that you just cleared your throat and threaded your fingers. Giving Sanji a small smile, "The lobster bisque sounds wonderful."

"As you wish," Sanji winked again and took your order to the window.

Your cheeks were warm and your heart was light as you hummed thoughtfully to yourself. Not long after Sanji returned setting a bowl of perfectly made soup in front of you before sitting another plate with a large slice of chocolate cake and he topped off your water glass.

"But I didn't," you begun to protest.

Sanji shushed you immediately, "On the house love. And maybe after the lady takes her time enjoying her food, she could join me for drinks afterward?"

You seemed to think about if for a moment, enjoying watching him squirm just a little bit. "Since you brought me free cake, I think I could manage a drink or two with my handsome waiter."

Sanji bowed gracefully, "Take your time to enjoy your food and I look forward to later."

"Me too," you replied to his back as he walked away."

You came to try the amazing food at the Baratie and wound up with a date with one of handsome waiters. You couldn't help but feel like you had won the day. Savoring your meal you counted down the seconds until you could be whisked away with Sanji and you hoped that it wouldn't be the only time you got to spend with him. Baratie may have found their most loyal customer in you.

[thedummysdummy]

Can I have a cup of latte with some sweet cream and yes hcs of our CEO dealing with a pregnant wifey 🤧🤌🏻 Pregnancy reveal to labor that will be a thank you.

Firstborn

In his Victor way, he immediately sensed her presence and looked up from his work. Seeing the grin on her face, he immediately knew something was up. “What has gotten a dummy so riled up?” he asked, pausing as he glanced farther down and spotted the pregnancy test in her hand. He jumped up from the couch and hurried to her side, his large hand reaching for hers to grab the test. She relinquished it with no struggle and Victor stared at the little window. A laugh started deep in his chest and made its way to the surface, emerging as he wrapped his arms around his wife. 

“See? All that worry for nothing! I told you that we just had to be patient! We have to celebrate. What would you like for dinner? I’ll make you anything you want. And I’ll call up the doctor to make an appointment. This time everything will go smoothly.” Victor scooped the girl up into his arms and buried his face in her hair. 

She squirmed a little and squeaked indignantly, but Victor only laughed louder and carried her out of the office and into the living room. “I can walk, you know,” she insisted, his joy soaking into her soul and making her laugh as well. “But really all I want for dinner is a nice butternut bisque. I’m a little too nauseous for much more than that…” 

Victor immediately set her down at the dining room table and went to the cupboard where he kept the tea and coffee. Soon the scents of ginger and peppermint filled the air and a steaming cup of tea appeared in front of the girl. “Drink this first while I make dinner, then. But give it a few minutes to properly steep before you greedily gulp it down.” 

“It’s too hot to gulp anyway,” the girl protested, but Victor merely shook his head and began his preparations. She watched his strong and slender form as he cut, cleaned, and drizzled olive oil over the resulting chunks of squash. The edges of her lips twitched in a pleased manner and her heart felt almost too big for her chest. 

In this moment, she was the luckiest girl alive. She picked up the teacup and inhaled the fragrant steam before blowing a soft breath over the surface of the liquid. As long as she had the love of that man, she had the entire world in her palm. 

His baby wasn’t a bad addition, either. 

The cup of tea was gone long before the squash had finished steaming, but the girl was content to sit at the table and just watch Victor work. He often glanced over at her and his dark eyes glittered every time he caught her staring. She enjoyed watching his skillful hands transform the hard vegetable into a smooth and creamy soup which soon he ladled into a bowl and placed in front of her. It was followed by a thick slice of toasted sourdough and another cup of tea. 

Only once she was served did Victor dish up his own meal and join her at the table. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, dipping his spoon into the silky soup and blowing gently to cool it. The girl nodded and tore off a bit of the bread to dip into her soup. It was delicious, as was to be expected, and she didn’t even need to ask the ‘secret ingredient,’ because she already knew exactly what it was. 

Joy.

~~~

Two months passed by as a moment and a lifetime simultaneously. The girl lost count of how many times she’d had to run out of a filming shoot, returning to the concerned looks of her coworkers. 

Finally, Kiki pulled her aside. “Boss, we’ve all noticed that you’ve been ill a lot lately. Is everything okay?” She looked into the girl’s face with concerned eyes, seeming to seek the answer in her boss’s expression. The girl fought with herself for a long moment. Was it too early to make an announcement? She knew it would be another month before she was out of the most dangerous portion of the pregnancy, but if her coworkers were already getting worried…she knew she wouldn’t last another month without telling them. 

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just…don’t spread this around, okay? But I’m pregnant.” 

A look of wild excitement filled Kiki’s face. “Oh my goodness! Congratulations, boss! How far along are you?! Has anyone planned a baby shower yet? Are you having a boy or a girl? How does Victor feel about it? This is so exciting!” 

The girl slapped a hand over Kiki’s mouth, but that did little to quell the other woman’s excitement. “I’m only eight weeks along, but Victor and I are both very happy. We won’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl for quite a while.” She giggled and her other hand went instinctively to her stomach. “It definitely is exciting. But!! You have to swear not to go announcing it to the entire world, okay? I’ll tell the others after the shoot today, then you all can gossip to your hearts’ content with each other.” She shot Kiki a serious look, and Kiki straightened into a salute. 

“You’ve got it, Boss! I won’t tell a soul!” 

It was a promise which lasted approximately twenty minutes before the news was nearly enough to make Kiki explode. “But you have to act surprised when the boss tells everyone after the shoot, okay?” she whispered after spilling the beans to Willow. 

“Oh, obviously,” Willow insisted. “And we’re also obviously going to plan a surprise party.” Kiki agreed wholeheartedly and the pair went back to the shoot. The day seemed to drag by even slower than usual as the secret burned a hole in their mental pockets. They did their best to look innocent every time the girl was nearby, but the moment she turned her back, the pair could barely contain their excitement. 

By the time the shoot wrapped up, everyone was completely exhausted except Kiki and Willow. They were still hyped up on the high of their secret and practically vibrated with excitement when their little crew was called together. 

The girl looked at each one of her friends and smiled. “I have a bit of an announcement. I was going to wait a little longer, but I have no doubt the cat would get out of the bag sooner rather than later. So here it is: Victor and I are expecting our first child.” 

Cheers of congratulations filled and echoed around the mostly-empty set, making it feel as if the girl were surrounded by an army of well-wishers. 

~~~

“But the casual white shirts go on the blue hangers, and the formal ones go on the black ones!”

The girl began pulling all of the clothes that Victor had hung up off their hangers and tossed them on the bed, her arms moving in far more exaggerated circles than was entirely necessary. Victor watched with exasperation, his arms crossed over his chest and his brows furrowed. “Why does it matter? Besides, they are my shirts. Shouldn’t it be my opinion that counts when it comes to putting them away?” 

He may as well have declared the instigation of World War 3. The girl looked at Victor incredulously and threw the hanger she was holding to the ground. “Fine! If you’re so opinionated about it, I’ll just let you put them away yourself! And the closet can be a mess.” 

“I already put them away myself once, and you pulled them all back out. That seems like you caused the problem, not me.” Victor’s exasperated tone only earned him a look that could kill a nation before his wife stomped out of the room and disappeared into the darkness of the rest of the house. 

Victor took a moment to breathe. Why was everything a fight lately?! Good grief, it was the color of hanger for crying out loud. He’d thought putting away the laundry would make her happy, not cause yet another argument. He glanced over the pile of shirts on the bed and wondered where exactly he’d gone wrong. 

A cloud settled over his heart as he picked up the shirts and ensured they were on the ‘proper’ hangers before putting them back in the closet. Every now and then he glanced at the bedroom door, half expecting to find her standing there watching. However, she never appeared. It didn’t take too long to fix the shirts and make the bed for good measure; only after that did he dare go seeking his wife. 

Perhaps ‘seeking’ was the incorrect word. Victor was pretty sure he knew exactly where he’d find her. He easily crossed the dark house and opened the nursery door, standing in the doorway. Moonlight filtered across the carpeted floor and landed on the chair on the opposite side of the room, highlighting the small amount of dust which drifted back and forth as sand in the ocean. 

Sure enough, the girl was curled up in the rocking chair, clutching a shiba plush. Even in the moonlight he could see the glisten of tears on her cheeks and he sighed. “Dummy,” he whispered, crossing the room in three long strides. She looked away, hiding her face behind the golden fur of the shiba. But Victor pushed it gently away and lifted her chin. He wiped away one of the tears with his thumb and kissed her forehead. “I love you, my little dummy.” 

While the words were simple, they seemed to be the magic words which unlocked the door. A torrent of tears ran down the girl’s cheeks and she flung herself into Victor’s arms. “I didn’t mean to yell at you,” she sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder. “I don’t know why I’m like this! It’s like I can’t even control myself and I hate it!” 

Victor ran his fingers tenderly through her hair and held her close. “It’s just the pregnancy. You’ll feel better soon. Only six weeks left, hm? I’m not going anywhere, no matter how moody you get. So stop beating yourself up and come to bed.” He slid one arm under the girl’s legs and scooped her up. “You need your rest if our little one is going to be healthy.” 

~~~

It was dark when the girl waddled into the office. She groaned a little and shifted on her feet, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt. Unfortunately, there was no such thing at this point in the pregnancy. Her hand went for the lightswitch and she wondered idly how she was the first one there for the meeting. Anna had seemed quite insistent that it was incredibly important, and even Victor had seemed keen to get her here on time. 

The lights caused her to go momentarily blind and she squinted as they adjusted. A jubilant shout of ‘SURPRISE!’ caused her to jump, but once she was able to open her eyes again, she was met with a room full of pink and blue balloons and streamers. Everyone she loved sat in chairs around the room with bright grins. Cupcakes decorated with pastel frosting and baby bottle sprinkles made up a large centerpiece, surrounded by various other snacks, while another table was absolutely loaded with brightly wrapped gifts. 

A hand softly on her back propelled the surprised mother-to-be into the room; it was connected to a smirking Victor. “Come on, get in there. Your friends didn’t organize this just for you to stand in the doorway with your mouth hanging open.” 

She broke out of her stupor and joined her loved ones for an evening of ridiculous games, eating, and opening of gifts. The sheer amount of love she felt from everyone in the room was a warm blanket which encircled her heart with tender softness. Each hug, each gift, and each kind word helped erase just a little bit more of the pain and discomfort of being eight and a half months pregnant. 

And when Victor noticed that she was beginning to tire, he took her hand in his big, warm palm and addressed the room. “Thank you, everyone, for the party and the gifts. We very much appreciate it, but my wife is going to fall asleep in her chair if I don’t get her home soon.” She gave his hand a squeeze and with those they loved trailing behind them with arms full of gifts to load into the car, the happy pair returned home with far more than just a new mountain of belongings. 

~~~

Of course it would be the middle of the night. The girl got up for what felt like the fifteenth time that night to use the bathroom, only to feel warmth running down her leg. “Too slow…” she muttered as she waddled into the other room. 

However, it soon became apparent that this wasn’t a middle-of-the-night bladder leak. An intense pain gripped the girl’s stomach and she curled up on herself, letting out a strangled squeak of pain and surprise. It wasn’t incredibly loud, but loud enough to cause Victor to rocket up from the bed. His sleep had been poor for the last week already, just in case this exact thing happened. 

“Is it time?!” he exclaimed, looking quite silly with his dark hair tousled upwards and his boxers slightly twisted. All it took was a single nod for him to spring into action, tossing on the clothes he’d specifically kept on the chair next to the bed for easy access and grabbing the hospital bag they’d lovingly packed together. 

Minutes later the girl was dressed as well and Victor helped her into the car. His hands trembled as he buckled her belt, though out of fear or excitement was up for debate. Probably both. He hustled around the front of the car and into his seat, turned the key, and soon the pair were speeding down the road toward the hospital. 

Each time a new contraction hit, the girl fumbled for Victor’s hand. “I’m right here. Just breathe,” he soothed, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “We’ll be there soon. I’m right here.” As Victor was wont to do in situations involving his wife, he drove with a reckless abandon in regards to the speed limit. They soon walked into labor and delivery, where the girl was whisked away while Victor paced the waiting room. 

Luckily for everyone in the hospital, Victor was only made to wait until his wife was dressed and put in her delivery bed before he was allowed to go back with her. “It will probably still be a little while, Mr. Li. The contractions are still ten minutes or so apart, and she’s only at an eight. We’ll check in often, but why don’t you try to get a little rest while you can? When the contractions are two minutes apart or less, we’ll get the doctor in here.” 

Victor nodded, though he knew there would be absolutely no rest for him tonight. Not until those sweet cries filled his ears, and that sweet bundle filled his arms. He sat at his wife’s bedside and held her hand as she did her best to remain calm through round after round of contractions. “I’m positive we’re having a boy,” she murmured. “I regretted deciding to wait to find out for sure, but now that it’s time…I think it’s even more exciting this way.” 

“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, as long as we get a healthy baby.” Victor placed his hand on his wife’s belly and was rewarded with a solid kick. “They’ve definitely got your attitude…” 

The hours passed by painfully slowly. Painfully being the key word. By morning, the girl was convinced this labor thing was never going to end. That was, until she was hit with contractions five minutes apart. Then two minutes apart. Victor pressed the call button repeatedly and the nurses soon arrived, the room filling with motion and excitement. The epidural went in and warm, blissful numbness took the place of the hot pain which had been filling her existence. 

The doctor arrived and, after a brief examination, smiled. “Alright, love. It’s time to push, okay? Three breaths and push for me on three. One, two, push. One, two, push.” 

Time felt like it stood still as Victor watched his sweet wife’s face flush, and her hand crushed his with each straining push. The doctor kept checking repeatedly, his voice encouraging. “You’re doing great, mama. I see a head! Keep pushing for me. Not too much longer now.” 

And he was right. Two pushes later, the shrill sound of a baby’s first cry pierced the air. The nurses rushed forward with a towel and a clamp for the cord, while the doctor checked over the new life for signs of health. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Li, it seems you have an absolutely perfect little boy.” 

Victor wasn’t even embarrassed about the tears that ran down his cheeks as the doctor wrapped the still-mucky little boy in a towel and handed him to his father. He was a chunky little man…and the most beautiful thing Victor had ever seen.

[streetsandsodiumlights]

do u know how many meals ive made where ive been like “I want to eat this again” ??? NOT many!! and yet, in the last month, ive made one every week. food really IS good for the soul…

pining for the sandwich i made earlier

[themanhattanfoodproject]

Some meals I had in Toronto during the election and immediate aftermath.

M had a show up in Toronto that had him leave on Election Day, and I went with him because I knew no matter what, I didn’t want to be alone for several days following it. I also had never been to Toronto, so this felt as good an opportunity as any.

We spent election night and a few days afterward by the Toronto Airport as that’s where the show was located. I found this local chain called The Keg Steakhouse and Bar, and they had a pretty awesome happy hour where you could get prime rib sliders and tuna tartare for a good price. I also went with the lobster bisque because I wasn’t feeling that hungry, but it hit the spot for something warm and comforting.

The next day, I barely ate as I had zero appetite, but we walked to the Lone Star Texas Grill--another Canadian chain--where they had $4 tequila shots and a really nice chicken adobo quesadilla that hit the spot after I forced myself to do some swimming in the hotel pool in the afternoon. 

Thursday I was determined to actually do something, so I got a swim in and then took the UP Express into downtown Toronto. I had a whole list of places that I wanted to go to, but this was more of a reconnaissance trip to get familiar with the layout of downtown before M and I would arrive the next day for 36 hours in the city. I took a walk to Sud Forno, a fun multi-story Italian cafe and restaurant, and treated myself to a lovely portion of cacio e pepe. I had dinner at the hotel later and it was fine, but it didn't need to be documented--though I did have a strawberry and greens salad as I realized I needed more vegetables.

Friday afternoon we went into Toronto together, and started at Chefs Hall which was a couple of blocks from our hotel. I had another quesadilla (trust me, my food choices will improve with dinner) and M had shawarma-style chicken kebabs and rice with a variety of sauces. I had a lovely conversation with a bartender about the election, in which he said that living in Canada lately had been like living next to a crackhouse, waiting to see if the crack dealer would be let back in. Given the shit that the stupid president-elect has been saying about making Canada a state, I definitely want to come back here to ask him how he feels now.

The absolute highlight of the trip, to be honest, was dinner at Aloette that evening. M’s Canadian colleagues were impressed that we were able to get a spot at the bar as walk-ins, but we settled in for a magnificent meal of beef tartare, an iceberg wedge salad, hamachi crudo, salmon tartare with shiso and compressed cucumber, and some fried chicken lettuce wraps. If anything, it was the meal that really brought me out of my funk because as delicious as the food was, the care given to us by our server really made the meal special. We told her what we wanted, she spaced it out accordingly, and we enjoyed one hell of a meal during our allotted two-hour dining window.

[graveyardlily]

10/3-10/5 (´▽｀)

10/3

The third was National Boyfriends Day! Of course, I had to do something for my love, I made him a little book and hung out at his house. I always have so much fun there! Like everything stops, and I no longer have to worry anymore. ~♡♡

10/4

Friday, I hung out with Sayori when I got home! We hung around until we made my father's delicious grilled cheese and tomato bisque. After that, we hung out in the basement to dance, but we ended up watching stuff til we got super sleepy.

Today, Sayori and I played games til the early afternoon until we decided to make some ramen. My father told me to clean the kitchen, though, so we had to do that first... (ーー;) It was fun listening to music super loud since we were home alone! We had a flavor of buldak noodles I've never had before, I was super excited to try them! Sayori didn't enjoy it as much as I did. I tried to eat her bowl, but the spice was hurting me! ((ﾟ□ﾟ;))

After that, my father came home and said we were going to a buffet and we brought Sayori's Nightcord plushies!

We didn't know we were going sadly and we were both too full to eat any of the yummy food! (。´Д⊂) My father also said we were going to go to a movie, but he ended up canceling that too, we were pretty excited about that... It's alright, though. I get to see Natsuki tomorrow and go to a pumpkin patch! I really love the fall time with the pretty leaves, Halloween, and all the other spooky things that go on!

[scooby-snacs]

Soup Season Specials: Golden Trio + Extras

cheers to all as it is currently my favorite season of all; soup season. For that reason I have included a list of the golden trio + extras on what soups they are to me. THIS IS ALL OPINION BASED.

Harry Potter - CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP

classic and basic, a go to in the cupboard that takes little prep to make and is excellent to freeze and have for leftovers.

Hermione Granger - CREAM OF TOMATO

simple & classic, nice and smooth texture. very good when paired with a sandwich to dip.

Ron Weasley - BEEF BARLEY SOUP

another classic. it’s cheap to make and delicious too! most ingredients can be found in a garden.

Ginny Weasley - CARROT SOUP

with a surplus of kids and a garden at home very likely could be there version of a ‘sick soup’. Molly def would have substituted with sweet potatoes on occasion as well.

Luna Lovegood - GOULASH

not the typical type but the ‘what do I have that I can use in the fridge’ type. a little bit of everything and you never know what your getting depending on the cook. a staple in the winter time and a very hearty meal.

Draco Malfoy - LOBSTER BISQUE

pricey and over hyped but a solid choice. very creamy and rich, leaves you full in seconds but overall not much to write home about. seasoning is key- if the seasoning isn’t there the entire pot tastes like bland mush.

Blaise Zabini - CHEESY PEPPER POT SOUP

very tasteful, not the most filling unless creamed but a very warming soup. seasoning is the maker of the dish, and if your tongue is left tingling it’s a 12/10 pot

Theodore Nott - CLAM CHOWDER

boring old man soup, but nice when it’s cold out and you want to spend the day in your jammies with a book. Overhyped and awful smelling when cooking but otherwise a very cheap seafood styled soup that gives the illusion of having money.

Pansy Parkinson - SPLIT PEA SOUP

you eat this if you’re broke or you’re scared of the carbs. honestly a great soup if creamed, very mild and boring when not. if seasoning is done well it can turn this into a miracle otherwise it’s bland green mush that resembles infant food.

Daphne Greengrass - BOUILLABAISSE

stupid name for a nasty fish soup. smells weird, is like a weird fish stew and has a strange constancy that leaves me wanting to puke. Very overpriced and over hyped, honestly not a contender for me though some people love it so if you’re into exotic tastings this might be the soup for you.

[187days]

Day Thirty-Five

Ninth grade English, math, and social studies classes are taught in the middle of the day- during Blocks 2 and 3, all freshmen are in one of those three classes, which are shorter than the rest (but year long instead of semester long) so they fit into that time frame. I like it a lot for Global Studies, and I like that it creates a block of time that can be used for ninth grade house things without disrupting the schedule for the rest of the student body.

Today that ninth grade house thing was state testing. Students reported to their first class of the block, then stayed with that teacher till lunch and took the reading and math NWEA tests. It's all online, so all I had to do as a teacher was set-up, assign the tests, un-freeze students' tests if they clicked through the answers too quickly. I'm young enough to be considered one of those "digital natives," and I proctored last year, too, so I wasn't fazed by any of it.

I did accidentally assign the Spanish version of the math test to one of my (very not Spanish-speaking) students. But I fixed it!

The student was very patient with that little mess-up, and, really, my whole class was great. I had to quiet them down once or twice, and remind them not to throw papers at my trash can (I say "at" because "into" is not guaranteed), but that's nothing major. They all finished before it was time for lunch, so they had a few minutes to relax and socialize, and I said I was super proud of them.

At lunch, I went down to the culinary class' cafe because they just opened for lunch. I got a delicious bacon, cheese, and tomato sandwhich and a cup of butternut squash bisque. It's way better than the lunch I'd packed (which will now be dinner), and gave me some fuel to finish showing my APGOV students how to write FRQs during Block 4.

We'd tackled three together last class, they were assigned three to try on their own for homework, and those are the ones we went over today. I had them share answers in small groups first, then we discussed as a whole class. After that, I reminded them of all the resources they have available for studying, and gave them the last twenty-five (ish) minutes to get ready for the test as they saw fit. Formal review will take place in class tomorrow.

I have a whole bunch of meetings tomorrow, including one during Block 1, so I stayed after for about half an hour to make all my copies and prep for my next classes. I ran into Mr. N as I was walking out, we chatted about how our days had gone, and about our memories of standardized tests. He's proctoring PSATs next week, which I barely remember taking; I do remember my SATs, though, because I had hiccups the entire time!

[fuckkbrunch]

Quick and dirty one today. This was one of the options for a garnish along side the shrimp bisque, but I chose the shrimp salad option instead. Figured it would make a decent dinner on its own.

Kept the shells from my shrimpy boys to boil them for a future laksa broth. Tony didn't specify either way, but in my experience, you need to break the backs of the shrimp so that you get that good, long shrimp stick. You can use a knife to cut them, but I find pressing them into the table with your fingers in faster and less finicky.

Fucking dredging. Feels so dumb to be putting together a whole dredging station for only 8 shrimp. Just like heating up a whole pan of oil to deep fry 8 whole shrimp. But here we are.

Panko breaded tempura is the inferior tempura. Everyone prefers the kind that you get in sushi restaurants, with the batter coating. This is more like jumbo popcorn shrimp.

Looks just like the ones you can buy frozen. Still delicious though.

| Tempura Shrimp |

Taste is a 2.5 out of 5. Average, but shrimp is always good.

Difficulty is a 2 out of 5. Straightforward, even if it's a little finicky.

Time was about an hour. A lot of that is the oil heating up.

I actually did this one along side the grilled cheese recipe, as you may have noticed in that last photo. So disclaimer that they would both take less time than it took me if you were doing them separately.

Not a bad combo, but the shrimp needs a sauce. Luckily I had some homemade tartar sauce kicking around.

[twilightmalachite]

Hermitage - Sunday 2

Author: Nishioka Maiko (with Akira)

Characters: Mika, Shu

Translator: Mika Enstars

"The flower language for the acanthe is “art” and “mastership”. It’s a title suitable for an artist enamored by eternity, is it not?"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Starmony Dorms Common Room

Mika: Nnah~…

Shu: Don't sigh like that!

Just what was that? That “nna nna” there. Don’t make any stupid noises like that.

Mika: It’s just, Oshi-sa~n… I had a buncha plans fer when you finally got back, y’know~?

So it was just disappointin’ to see ya immediately go into work-mode.

Shu: Plans…? Like what?

Mika: Ermm, like how there’s a limited-time lunch currently at the cafe. It looks real delicious, so I was wanting t’go eat it with ya, Oshi-san.

After that, there’s this handicrafts store I think you’d like that opened on Saison Avenue~! And so I wanted to take ya there!

And after that—

Shu: Sigh, that’s enough… Have you forgotten about the reason I’ve returned to Japan in the first place?

Mika: I remember~… It was for our new song, right?

It’s just been a while since ya returned to Japan, so I thought it’d be okay to go sightseein’ a bit…

Shu: I’d rather not waste my precious time on things like that.

Instead of spending your time on such things, you should spend your time on improving the quality of our new song as much as possible.

Mika: I know that~… But isn’t jus’ a little bit okay?

Shu: Goodness gracious…

(Come to think of it… I haven’t given Kagehira his souvenir yet.)

(I had thought to give it to him after our meeting. However, it might be better to give it to him now to help ease his mood.)

(There’s not much else I can do, so I suppose I should fetch it from my room.)

Kagehira, wait here for a moment. I am going to pick up some of my luggage from my room.

Mika: Huh? Okay, sure thing?

Shu: Ahem. Kagehira, this is for you.

Mika: Wha?! Fer me?! What is it?

Shu: It’s a souvenir. I just so happened to come upon something nice, so I figured might as well.

Mika: Uwah! ♪ I’m so happy~! Thank ya kindly, Oshi-san! Can I open it?

Shu: Go ahead. Have this ease your mood so you can devote yourself to the new song.

Mika: Okay, gotcha. Lesse—

Ehh?! A bisque doll?! Is this really alright fer me to have?!

Shu: Yes, I just so happened to come upon it.

I believe you miss being able to talk to Mademoiselle, yes?

It's far from Mademoiselle, but it's far less lonely than having nothing.

Mika: Thank ya sooo much! I'll cherish it deeply~♪

Shu: So, do you feel better now? We've got to go back to work.

You are supposed to be in charge of the new song’s overview, while I am in charge of direction…

What is your progress? Do you have an overview prepared, Kagehira?

Mika: About that… I’ve gotten started on it. But I’ve been kinda strugglin’ with it…

Shu: Hm… What exactly are you having trouble with?

Mika: Umm… I’m thinkin’ about havin’ the MV tell a story…

But I haven’t been able to visualize anythin’ yet…

Nn~, how do I put it… Somethin’ like a beauty-obsessed artist who preserves their loved one as a work of art for eternity…?

The image I’m goin’ for bein’ solitude and the pursuit of eternal beauty.

Shu: I see. That’s an unexpectedly dark imagining. I had thought you would come up with something brighter.

Mika: Hmm~, maybe it’s no good… But y’know, sad themes are often prevalent in fairytales ,right? I was tryin’ to dp a gothic spin on somethin’ like a fairytale.

Shu: And there’s nothing “no good” about that. Eternity and solitude…

Well, every artist, to a greater or lesser extent, all possesses the inquisitive mind for beauty. And it fits Valkyrie’s image as well.

Mika: I’m relieved, then! The image is still too vague, though, I’m not sure how to proceed from here.

Shu: I see… I understand the situation now.

Well, it’s not bad for a first attempt. Let’s expand that image a big more, shall we?

Shu: Hmm… Well, that’s about it, isn’t it?

Mika: Yer amazin’ as always, Oshi-san…! I can’t believe we were able to settle so much in the span of just an hour. I can see the image so clearly now!

Shu: I had been doing absolutely everything by myself up until this. There’s a gap of experience here.

For the title—Yes… How about we call it “Acanthe”?

Mika: Akan… tou?[1] That’s a strange word. It reminds me of the Kansai dialect.

Shu: Kagehira… You need to broaden your knowledge further.

It’s a-kon-t. Acanthe. It is the name of a flower named acanthus in English.

Mika: Hmm? But why name the new song Acanthe? I feel like it’s completely unrelated, ain’t it?

Shu: The flower language for the acanthe is “art” and “mastership”. It’s a title suitable for an artist enamored by eternity, is it not?

Mika: I see, so it’s flower language! You really are amazin’, Oshi-san!

Shu: Rather than praising me, learn how to do this much, Kagehira.

Anyways, a lot has been decided on. Beginning tomorrow, let us immediately get started on practice, shall we?

[ ☆ ]

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In the Kansai dialect, “dame” (no good, impossible, etc…) is pronounced “akan”. Mika says it a lot…

[tomatosnoupy]

youve had your url for a while now but it’s never occurred to me to ask. tumblr user tomatosnoupy, what are your thoughts (and feelings) on tomato soup? (also hi i hope ur doing well!!<3)

THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION!!!!! i adore tomato soup :) it’s wonderfully rich and delicious when seasoned well and it’s hearty without being too heavy. it’s incredibly easy to make cause you just stick that shit in a blender and let it go to town. 10/10 soup. though actually i used to find it very boring and texturally even bad (i thought this about all western soups*)… i also disliked grilled cheeses for the same reasons. sometime during a finals week in college i was desperate for something greasy and filling and the cafe had recently started selling a tomato soup/grilled cheese combo. changed my life honestly i make a banger tomato bisque now i’m handing you a bowl 🥫🥣 also while we’re here…..what does olivarz mean<3

[davidwhornii-blog]

Creamy Tomato Bisque with Crab

Serve tomato bisque soup in mini bowls for a creamy hors d’oeuvre or in full-size bowls for the ultimate comfort-food soup. With a generous garnish of colossal crab meat this soup is a winner in any season, and makes a great first course for a seafood dinner.

For this recipe, please go to:

https://creativeelegancecatering.blogspot.com/.../creamy...

For hundreds more delicious recipes and mouthwatering food images, please go to:

[unnamedartist-portfolio]

DIY Sawdust brick kiln experiment : Take One

Okay so! As you may have noticed, I've fallen back into ceramics, and I am loving it! Last christmas, I made my dad a hand to hold one of his father's pipe out of clay, but I didn't have a kiln on hand, so it was raw clay, and I gave it to him with the promise one day, we'll try and make a kiln ourselves to cook it.

Well! Summer's back, and that day has finally come!!

After the smallest amount of proper research humanly possible, and armed with enthusiasm and total hubris, I settled on building a sawdust brick kiln, simply because it requires the least amount of skills and work, and is completely dismantlable. I stole all of my knowledge from this Potter Wheel tutorial (thank you so much!!), scouted the internet for reclaimed bricks unsuccessfully, grumpily settled on buying fancy new ones, and finally, we got to work.

The concept is really simple. Stack the bricks to assemble a chimney of sorts, stuff it with as much sawdust as you can, set the whole thing on fire. A pyromaniac's dream.

We placed all of our stuff at the bottom, on a layer of sawdust, filled the rest, lit it up, covered it once we were fairly sure the fire wouldn't die on us, and waited.

A whole bunch of grandkids were there too (you can see some little feet on the pictures) so we turned this into a cookout opportunity, because why not, and it was delicious

That being said, I am sorry to report the fire went out around 11:30PM, only about 8 hours after we started it, meaning we were 4 hours short on the amount of time we wanted it to last. We left the kiln to cool down over night as planned, but I was already fairly sure we did not achieve full cooking.

Here's what it looked like upon opening the next day (and I feel like an idiot because I got exited and moved some of the things before taking a picture, so their placement is not quite right, which could've been relevant... --')

We have:

two rimmed vase shaped vessels (that a friend of mine threw, I'm not there yet)

two small bowls

the most famous hand

and two hand built pouring bowls (with the handles) I made waay back that were bisqued but not glazed

So 5 raw clay pieces and two cooked ones. The idea was to see how different things would react, and see what I could learn from it.

First and foremost, I'm happy to report we had no breakage! Now, does that mean we managed to avoid any kind of thermal shock, or that we did not get enough heat to cause said thermal shock, I'm not entirely sure.

We definitively got some nice coloring on the bowls and vases, and the shine on the bottoms (that were trimmed and inadvertly polished in the process because the clay was a bit dry) makes me think we acheived at least /some/ cooking? They sound less dull when flicked, but we're still far from the bell like sound of thoroughly cooked clay.

The bigger vase got some nice petroleum shine that is also encouraging, but as you can see on that same third picture, and on the rim, it cooked completely unevenly, and all the light clay is still raw and dissolves and smudges when I rub it with a damp cloth. This is were I'm pissed at myself for messing with the placements of the pieces when I opened the lid, because the obvious explanation would be that the uncooked bit faced the walls of the kiln, but I can't be sure.

The hand, despite being in the middle of the kiln because I knew it would be the hardest to cook, is in fact, the least cooked one of the lot. I'm not at all surprised, modelling takes a lot more clay, and it is way thicker than the other raw pieces we put in. But the finger tips and edges give me hope that, with a little more time, we could cook it through!

The most successful piece is the smaller vase. It's still not ringing clear as fully cooked clay should, but it definitively got the most out of this firing, thanks to my friend's consistent and thin throwing.

As for the two pouring bowls, I forgot to take pictures, but most of the blackening and coloring washed off, and I can't say I'm surprised. They too have pretty thick walls, because hand coiling, and I really don't think we reached enough heat to cause the already cooked clay to react. Still, it was interesting to try!!

So all and all? I think we did pretty well for a first attempt!

The next obvious thing to try is to make the kiln bigger to allow for more combustible. Not sure when we'll be able to try again, probably not before september, but we'll get there!

In the meanwhile, I'm thinking of sacrificing one of these pieces to get a better idea of how much it did or did not cooked by leaving it to sit in water and see what (if anything) survives. Can't choose which one though. Help?

[hbogirls]

top five soups

broccoli cheddar is THEE girl

the chicken gnocchi soup from olive garden fucks severely. i've replicated it at home a few times but it's always missing that chain restaurant je ne sais quoi

clam chowder!! especially with big chunks of potato in there

lobster bisque (i have never attempted to make this myself but i do love it)

tomato soup -- a classic that is controversial for me bc it tastes delicious but tomatoes do make my tummy hurt. one of life's little tests i suppose