3 michelin

[LYRICS] (ENG TRANS) Go

dollar dollar
I waste all my fortune overnight
run, run, I earn my luxury
run, run, run, run
run, run

I want cruisin’ on the bay
want to cruisin’ like NEMO
I don’t have the money but I want to leave, go far away
I don’t even have the money but I want to relieve this exhaustion
I don’t have the money but I want to try Jiro Ono(’s dishes)**

my pay I earn with hard work,
I collect all pennies and enjoy wasting them all inside my tummy,
I make all payments
let me be, even if I overspend
or if I cancel my saving tomorrow morning like a crazy guy

woo there’s no tomorrow
my future has been seized as security already
woo I spend my money more
friends wussup
do you want some

dollar dollar
I waste all my fortune overnight
run, run
man i spend it like some party
dollar dollar
until the sun shines till the rathole
until the sun rises

YOLO YOLO YOLO YO
YOLO YOLO YO

the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting
where my money yah
where the party yah
my week, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Fri-fri-fri-Friday

my bank account is yah
it’s like a jar with a hole
it’s like pouring water through a sieve
let’s just smash it
we’re quite young to just worry
go rather than worrying just for today
you’ll become a sh*t if you panic and be frugal
just throw it away

dollar dollar
I waste all my fortune overnight
Run, run
man i spend it like some party
dollar dollar
Until the sun shines till the rathole
Until the sun rises

YOLO YOLO YOLO YO
YOLO YOLO YO
the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting
YOLO YOLO YOLO YO
where my money yah
the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting
YOLO YOLO YOLO YO
YOLO YOLO YO
the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting
YOLO YOLO YOLO YO
where the party yah
the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting, the fun of wasting

go rather than worrying
go rather than worrying
go, go rather than worrying
everybody

go rather than worrying
go rather than worrying
go, go rather than worrying
everybody

go rather than worrying
go rather than worrying
go, go rather than worrying
everybody
go rather than worrying
go rather than worrying
go, go rather than worrying
everybody

go rather than worrying
go rather than worrying
go, go rather than worrying
everybody

(**a Japanese chef and owner of Sukiyabashi Jiro, 3-Michelin-starred Japanese sushi restaurant in Ginza, Tokyo)

trans by Kai @ bangtan tumblr do not take out or repost without permission.

on this lightwood family dinner…

alec is going to try and plan the entire thing, realize the moment he walks into the kitchen that he has no fucking clue what he’s doing and that he’s only ever made cup noodle, get stressed as all hell until the moment magnus walks in, kisses him on the cheek, and summons a 5-course meal from a michelin 3-star restaurant.

then alec will proceed to get wasted as he watches his family talking to the love of his life because this is literally the most important thing in the world to him and even though it turns out maryse and magnus get along really well, alec is a nervous wreck who ends up drinking until he’s half-asleep, slumped against magnus, who just strokes his hair and smiles down at him while every single lightwood finally sees first-hand exactly what they mean to each other.

MBTI Types as Valentine’s Day Gift-Givers

Author’s Note: OMGG NATIONAL CHOCOLATE AND MOVIES DAYYY YYAY!! … With my friends I mean looolol … I’m single AF  ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

ISFJ - After hours of pinterest, finally finishes the cutest DIY gift in the universe and makes you dinner at home even though they actually only got 3 hours of sleep last night and all ISFJs need at least 8-10 hours of sleep for normal functioning so should they really be operating a stove??? Food ends up being worthy of 3 Michelin stars
INFJ - Alternates between “wow this is actually a pretty good gift idea!” and “omg omg omg what if you don’t like it! It’s going to be the end of the worldddd no no no no noooooooooooooooo” *slowly sinking to the ground just at the thought of this*
ISFP - Receives wayyyy more affection/fan mail/love letters than normal on this day but only you get a beautiful handcrafted art thingy that was birthed while ISFP was frolicking in the woods being one with nature and petting all the woodland animals
INFP - Awwww INFPs are like little golden retrievers! Just wants to cuddle with you and make you happy with their gift! May start crying if even the slightest facial movement indicates that you’re not satisfied with their precious gift.  It might be a flower crown.  You have been warned.
INTJ - Most likely to not subscribe to a materialistic holiday like Valentine’s Day where couples lavish each other with off-putting levels of affection.  Unlikely to get you a gift unless prompted at least 1 week in advance.  Please allow 24 hours for INTJ to process your request for a Valentine’s Day gift.
ENTJ - Second most likely (wow they’re actually not 1st in something?!?! are you slipping ENTJ?) to not subscribe to the idea of Valentine’s Day.  Still takes you out to dinner and performs their role as your significant other, but manages to find a way to keep dinner and your gift under a tight budget. Bravo ENTJ ;)
ISTJ - Third most likely to not subscribe to the concept of Valentine’s Day, but since they are expected to get you a present, they will get you something useful! After many hours of contemplation, ISTJ may tell you that they love you on this day because their Tradition and Duty textbook recommended them to do so.
ISTP - Sarcastic AF Valentine’s Card Award Winner of the Year (3 years in a row).  Also gets you 10 salsa dancing lessons but you both know that you cuties will only be attending 4/10 of them because you’ll spend the other 5 weeks attending acting lessons that ISTP accidentally doublebooked
INTP - Has always known that there was something called Valentine’s Day but has never tried to participate in this satanic ritual.  In preparation for Valentine’s Day, please make sure to update the following apps on your INTP: Social Decision-Making OS, Gift-Giving Analysis Software, and Affection-Showing v3.98.
ESFJ - Gives Valentine’s to many of their friends but gives a very special gift to only you! Enjoys PDA and will give you absolutely no personal space on this day.  CAUTION: Your ESFJ will shower you with copious amounts of gifts and affection … be sure to wear a scuba suit so you don’t drown in their endless love.
ENFJ - Will make you feel like the most special person on the planet on Valentine’s Day

ESFP - Gives you the gift of A PARTYYYYY! Valentine’s Day isn’t just celebrated with your special someone, but also with 20 other people who also brought their special someones too.  May end in an orgy.  May end in an rave.  Or maybe you get 27 hours of Valentine’s Day because you flew east to west and gained 3 extra hours (?!?!?)

ENFP - Buys a ton of gifts for you but struggles to decide which one to actually give to you! Decides to stagger the gifts.  One for Valentine’s Day.  One for Christmas.   One for your bday .. oh crap .. after Valentine’s Day they forgot where they stashed all the gifts and only finds them again 3 years later.  What a nice surprise! ^^
ESTJ - Perfectly replicates the Valentine’s Day that both of you had last year plus a planned networking party at 4 p.m. just for the fun of it.  ESTJ leaves with 7 new Linkedin contacts and a phone number of a recruiter.  This same time next year, ESTJ will be making $20,000 more than last year at their new job.  
ESTP - Meets up with you to go scuba diving/ziplining/rock climbing but spends at least half of the time making out with you which leads to the both of you getting kicked out .. you spend the rest of your Valentine’s day alternating between having sex, shopping, and clubbing (occasionally having sex at the club or shopping mall) ;) ;) ;)
ENTP - Doesn’t make concrete plans with you prior to Valentine’s Day. Instead, takes you on a spontaneous trip to Europe that they literally just decided to do.  Forgets to schedule a return flight because ENTP is having too much fun spending time with you in a foreign country.

blue [ pt. 3 ]

pairing | pcy x reader
count | 3.5k


“Sooo what’d he say?” Baekhyun asked impatiently, biting down on his nails as you walked towards your desks in the ground floor of your company’s corporate offices in midtown. 

You smiled, “We’re getting our own office!” 

Baekhyun screeched, jumping up and giving you a big hug. 

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it, it’s actually happening!” he yelled. You nodded, laughing as he jumped around, too excited to know what to do with himself. You sat down at your desk, looking around. For the last year since you started working here, they had stuck you and Baekhyun in the basement of the building, giving you your laptops, a few extra screens, and a foldable table next to the rows of servers. This was where the two of you worked. 

You smiled, looking down at the business card of the commercial real estate agent whose contact your CEO gave you before you left his office just now. You remembered walking into his office, a suite on the top floor of the building. You remembered walking past his secretary holding the door for you, asking if you’d like some coffee. You remembered him shaking your hand, congratulating you. 

You felt your smile grow wider at this recollection. You hardly heard the rest of what he said after he told you he wanted to give you your own firm. You vaguely remembered hearing something about patents and legal counsel, but had stopped listening, unable to contain your excitement. 

In the days since you got back from the conference, you and Baekhyun sat through endless meetings with venture capitalists, investors, even other companies interested in buying your product. The company’s in-house legal counsel sat with you and Baekhyun and your manager, sorting through the piles of funding proposals you’d received. 

“So where do we go from here, what do we do?” Baekhyun said, sitting down at his desk across from you. 

“Well, he said something about getting our work patented, and meeting with more lawyers, signing a bunch of stuff, oh we need to come up with a name for our firm. But he gave me this card and said this person would help us find our own office,” you said, smiling. 

You watched the smile grow on Baekhyun’s face in return, “We should go to the east end of the city! Or across the bridge!” 

“I agree,” you grinned, “Let’s get out of midtown, let’s get away from these bored, old financial types.” 

“Y/N,” you heard a voice call from behind you. You turned and saw your manager walking towards you. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Ugh, please no, I can’t sit through more meetings with lawyers,” you groaned, sinking down in your chair. “They suck the life out of me.” 

“It’s not a lawyer,” he said, and you saw a figure turning the corner and walk towards you. “I told him I could get you guys a meeting room up on the conference level, but he insisted on seeing where you worked.” You felt your eyes grow wide as you watched him strutting over to you, his hands in the pockets of his long, camel-colored coat, draped over a grey suit, his black leather shoes clicking against the concrete floor. 

“Chanyeol, hey!” Your mouth dropped open when you heard Baekhyun say his name, watching with wide eyes as he walked over to him, catching his hand in a shake, leaning in and giving him a pat on the back. 

“’Chanyeol’?” you muttered, glaring at Baekhyun. 

“Oh come on, don’t look so upset,” Chanyeol smirked. “We’ve talked a few times since the conference.” 

You looked back and forth between him and Baekhyun, unable to hide the shock in your own voice, “What are you guys, friends?”

Baekhyun saw the stunned look on your face, “No no, he just emailed me a couple of times to get more details about the project. He wanted to get an updated timeline and names of our stakeholders, just stuff our lawyers needed to document anyways.” He scratched at the side of his head, nervously looking to see how you’d react. 

You saw Chanyeol’s smirk grow wider at your expression. “It’s getting late, what are you guys’ plans for the night?” 

“I don’t have any plans, I was just going to go home, maybe catch up on some episodes of Mr. Robot, hang out with my dog…” Baekhyun’s voice trailed off. Chanyeol laughed. 

“Well, come on, let me take you guys out to dinner.” He said, giving Baekhyun a pat on his back, making him fall forward slightly at the force. 

“We’re ok, we actually have some work left to do here,” you said quickly. 

“It’s almost 7:30 and you’re expected to do more work? This is a terrible job, I would like to speak with your boss,” he chuckled, amused at himself. You looked over at Baekhyun, who is now shooting you a pleading look. 

You rolled your eyes, “Fine.” You saw Baekhyun jump from the corner of your eye as you stood up, swinging your coat over your body. You followed behind them as they walked over towards the elevators, and he swung an arm over Baekhyun’s shoulders. 

“So about that album you recommended,” he said. Baekhyun looked up at him, and you could see the admiration in his eyes. “I listened to it, and it was very good, I really liked it.” 

“Right? I told you, it’s a modern synthesis of electro-punk and new wave..” You rolled your eyes, following them into the elevator, scoffing at the whole exchange. Yes, you guys just talked about the project, you thought. 


You stood in place at the entrance of the restaurant the driver of his fancy, black town car took you to. It was a very minimal, square building at the other end of the city. The entire building painted a charcoal grey color, its windows open, letting the cool, autumn breeze blow in. Inside you could see men and women dressed up in evening wear, fancy dresses, nice suits. The lights were dim, and at the end of the room you saw a large wall of bottles behind the bar. A single plaque on the wall outside beside the door displayed 3 Michelin stars embedded in the stone. 

“Come on,” he said as the hostess held the door open for him, beckoning you and Baekhyun to follow. 

“I don’t think we’re dressed for this place,” you said quietly, walking up to him, suddenly very self aware and conscious of your black jeans and worn sweater. 

“Nonsense!” his voice boomed, pushing you in through the door. 


You fidgeted in your seat throughout dinner. You said nothing as he ordered an expensive bottle of wine, then another when he and Baekhyun had finished it, while you sipped absentmindedly on your first glass. You had no taste for wine. You picked at the food that was brought to you. The tiny, delicate morsels on large porcelain plates. You weren’t sure if it was truly food you were meant to eat, or if it was some tiny sculpture made of vegetables and flowers. You’d never been to a restaurant so fancy you don’t get to choose what you want, you’re just supposed to eat whatever the chef brought you.

You rolled your eyes at his inane descriptions of the food, of the chef, of the reviews and articles he’d read about this restaurant. Six courses and two bottles of wine later, Baekhyun was slurring his words as you helped him out of the restaurant. You put him into a cab, waving and telling him to call you when he got home. He muttered that he would before dropping his head against the window of the cab. 

“He’s a lightweight isn’t he,” you heard Chanyeol chuckle behind you. 

You turned to face him, mustering up the most sincere smile you could. “Thank you for dinner,” you said politely. “I’m going to head home now.” 

“Let me give you a ride,” he motioned towards his car, the driver standing by the doors, holding one open. 

“No, that’s okay,” you said, waving a hand at him. “I’ll walk, I live pretty close to here.” You turned and began walking away before he could protest. 

You walked along the city sidewalks, barely registering the other pedestrians passing you on the street, the honking of the cars, sirens ringing in the distance, creating only a muted sound in your ears. You kept thinking of how he and Baekhyun talked. How they seemed to know each other so well. How they seemed to have shared interests. You refused to believe that someone as kind and humble as your friend Baekhyun could possibly have anything in common with him. You felt a growing sense of resentment that they were becoming friends. And you resented yourself for feeling so. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a grumbling sound coming from your stomach. Those tiny plates did nothing to fill your appetite. You sighed, and decided to grab food from the taco stand that you frequented at the corner of the street where your apartment was. 

“Hey Bobby,” you said, approaching the stand. 

“Heeeey!” he said, seeing you walk up. “The usual?” 

“Yes please,” you replied as he turned to grab a styrofoam box from the shelf behind him. You watched as something caught his eye and he looked up, nodding down the street. “Should I get out the baseball bat?” he asked. 

You turned and looked in that direction. And there he was, moving towards you with that same stupid grin on his face, that same arrogant walk. “You know Baekhyun thinks you’re a stalker,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re really not helping yourself right now.” 

He smiled, “I know, he told me.” You scoffed. Of course he told you, I’m sure you exchanged your whole life stories. 

“So what, the food I gave you wasn’t good enough?” 

“Oh no it was amazing,” you responded sarcastically, taking the styrofoam box from Bobby, handing him a bill. “But they were truly works of art, how could I possibly eat it?”

You watched as he pulled out his wallet from his coat pocket, lifting up a platinum black card to Bobby. “I’ll have the same, please.” 

You and Bobby exchanged looks, bursting into laughter. He looked at you, confused. “We’re cash only man,” Bobby chuckled. 

You handed Bobby another bill, “Here, I’ll get it.” You turned and looked at the stunned expression on his face. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said. 

“Consider it me paying you back for dinner,” you said, realizing the obvious disparagement between what he paid for dinner and what you just paid for your tacos, smiling because you’re not even trying in the least to make up for it.  

You watched him take his styrofoam box from Bobby. He opened it, and looked down at the food. “How am I supposed to do this?” he asked, tilting the box slightly in his hand, unsure of what to do. 

You laughed, “Are you serious?”

He looked at you, then around at the street, confused. “How..where am I supposed to eat this?”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, turning and walking down the sidewalk towards your building. “Have a good night Bobby!” you waved. 

“Make sure you keep that pepper spray on you!” he joked, yelling after you as you felt Chanyeol walking up beside you. Ignoring him, you turned and walked up the steps to your building, taking the keys out from your pocket. He followed closely behind. You swung around, seeing him jump back slightly, surprised. 

“What are you doing?”

He frowned, “Following you.” 

“Clearly,” you were getting annoyed. “Go away.”

“Is this where you live?” he said, making a face as he looked up at the building, seeing the crumbling pieces of brick in the facade, one side of a single window on the front broken, replaced with a piece of cardboard and duct tape. You rolled your eyes, opening and door and starting up the stairs to your apartment. He followed behind you. 

“Ok dude,” you stopped before your door. He looked down at you, a disgusted and confused frown on his face. “This is where I live.” He nodded. “This is my apartment,” you continued, exasperated. 

“Ok,” he said. 

“Okaaay, so you should go back to your apartment.” 

“But if I wait to eat these tacos until I get back to my apartment they’ll get cold.” 

You were astonished. “So eat them in your car!” 

“But I have no utensils in my car,” he said as a matter of factly.

“Uuugh,” you groaned. You looked up at him, seeing in his face a genuine concern that he wouldn’t be able to eat without utensils. “Fine,” you unlocked your door, holding it open for him to walk through, walking in behind him. You kicked the door shut with your foot, walking across the creaky hardwood floors to your tiny kitchen, a small row of cabinets next to a miniature stove, dropping your box of food on the counter. You flipped on the lights, your apartment being lit by a dim orange light. 

You looked at him standing by your front door. He does not fit in here at all, you thought to yourself. The contrast of his expensive clothes against the worn and faded couch in your living room, pieces of paint peeling from the wall behind it made you laugh quietly to yourself. Opening one of the drawers, you took out two forks before grabbing the bottle of tequila from your freezer. You picked up your box of food with your one spare hand and turned to look at him, still glued to the floor by the door. 

You nodded towards one of the windows at the end of the room. “Can you open that?”. 

“What?” he asked, walking towards you, fingers clutched around the styrofoam box in his hands. 

“Can you open the window,” he heard you more clearly this time. He stacked his food on top of yours and reached out to lift open the large glass window. You moved past him, climbing easily through the open window onto the landing of the fire escape outside. 

You sat down on the steps outside, setting down the food and utensils before looking back at him standing on the other side of the window, eyes wide. “Come on,” you said, motioning him outside. 

“You want me to go out there?” 

You nodded, holding back your laughter as you watched his long, clumsy limbs try to climb through the window. He made it onto the landing, brushing his hands against each other, trying to get rid of the dust. You scooted aside as he sat down onto the steps next to you, and handed him the box of food. 

“How do I do this?” he asked, watching as you picked up a taco, and biting into the side. 

“Well, you can be fancy and use a fork I guess,” you said, handing him the utensil. You looked at him as he parroted your movements, taking a taco in his hand and raising it to his mouth, taking a large bite, half of the filling falling out into the box in his lap. 

You laughed, seeing him flustered and unsure of what to do. 


“I owe you an apology,” he said, leaning back onto his elbows against the stairs, handing the bottle of tequila back to you after taking a swig. The two of you sat outside on your fire escape, listening to the sounds of the city around you, the empty boxes of food sitting on the landing beside you. 

“For what?” You asked, taking a drink yourself. 

“For what I said to you at that conference,” he sighed. “I was an ass.” 

You sat with your back against the brick wall of the building, facing him. You took a moment to gauge the expression on his face, seeing the light reflected in his big eyes, bright and glittering from the city lights around you. You could tell he was being sincere. 

“I’m sorry too,” you said quietly, noticing him sit upright, looking at you. “I was surprised though,” you set the bottle down next to you. “I couldn’t believe you were actually at the conference for business. I thought you were some rich asshat at the resort for vacation.” 

He laughed, “My friend and I actually did get there about a week earlier because we wanted to just hang out before the conference. I never thought I’d meet someone so interesting at a boring business conference,” he smiled. 

You scoffed, “Surely not as interesting as one of the girls you guys were hanging out with at the resort.” 

“Ugh,” you watched as he groaned, reaching a hand up and rubbing his eyes, “I’m sorry I called you a vodka girl.” 

“Actually you called me a scotch girl at first.” 

“Ughh, shit, I did, didn’t I?” 

You nodded, laughing. “Oh man, I’m so sorry,” he looked up into your eyes. “I don’t actually think you’re any type of girl, you know that right.” 

You stood up, walking over to the edge of the landing, leaning against the railing on your elbows, looking down at the streets below. He walked up beside you. 

“I’m sorry I said the only reason you got into an ivy league school is because of your dad,” you said quietly. He leaned down onto his elbows on the railing next to you. 

“It’s okay,” he laughed gently. “If we’re being honest, I have gotten a lot of things in my life because of my father.” You smiled at his candor. 

“This is nice,” he said, turning to look at you. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking out at the buildings across the street. “I think this could be the beginning of a very interesting friendship, Mr. Park Chanyeol.” 

He stood up and you did the same, looking up at him, noticing a wary expression growing on his face. “You and I are friends?” he asked, his voice growing low. 

You laughed, “Oook, now let’s not rush that, I said we could become friends. I’m only slowly beginning to find you tolerable,” you said, reaching out and giving him a light punch on his arm. 

You felt his hand grab onto your arm, his expression serious. “Why do you think I came to find you today?” he asked suddenly, his voice stern, a frown growing on his face. 

“Because you and Baek are friends and you wanted to take him to dinner?” you answered, wincing slightly at his hand enclosed tightly around your arm. 

“No,” he pulled you closer. You felt your cheeks becoming flushed, your mind racing, wondering what he was doing, why he was asking these questions. “Y/N, be serious,” he was growing impatient. “You know why I came to find you.” 

You looked up into his eyes and they confirmed what you were already thinking since he followed you here to your apartment. “No..” you said quietly, your eyes growing wide at your realization. 

He let go of your arm, and stood back, putting his hands in his pockets, smiling, the corners of his lips pushing up into little dimples in his cheeks, seeing the lightbulb go off in your head. 

“No,” you repeated, much more audibly this time, backing into the wall behind you. He reached a hand out, grabbing onto your waist, pulling you back into him, wrapping both of his arms around you, holding you close. 

You put your hands up against his chest, pushing him back, avoiding his gaze. “Chanyeol, no.” 

He didn’t budge, “Why not?” he asked, a grin on his face as he tilted his head to look down at you. 

“Are you kidding?” you scoffed, “We can’t do this, this has got to be some huge conflict of interest, you’re an investor of my firm, you’re a stakeholder-” 

“Alright, so I’ll pull my funding.” 

You looked up at him, eyes wide in shock. “What, you can’t just do that!”

He laughed, amused at how flustered you were becoming. “Well I don’t know what else to do to get rid of this conflict of interest if you won’t allow me to stop investing in your project.” 

“You could not do this,” you said, agitated. 

“So your project is this much more important to you than I am?” he smiled. 

“Wow, ok, that’s assuming you mean anything to me at all,” you said, looking away from him. 

The smile faded from his face as he reached a hand up to your cheek, turning you to face him. His expression had become serious. “Don’t lie to me about that,” he said, lowering his face to yours. You stared straight into his face, your body frozen in shock as you felt his lips pressing onto yours, his arm tightening around your waist. 

You continued staring into his eyes as he pulled away slightly, his lips brushing against yours when he opened his eyes, looking down at you through sleepy lashes. “I don’t want to be your friend,” he whispered into your lips. “I want to be as unfriendly with you as possible.” 

How the Team Acts on Valentine’s Day

Genji: very over-the-top affection but with a very thoughtful twist; think a messily hand-sewn teddy bear that looks like his s/o, and gifted in a box that substitutes normal stuffing paper with hundreds of tiny slips of affectionate phrases on them

McCree: the classic romantic sop, just as you’d expect. Huge teddy bear, three colors of rose bouquets (red, pink, and white), petals strewn all over the floor. He cooks a nice candlelit dinner and puts the most romantic, soft country music he can find on the record player.

Pharah: she’s a little less good at being showy, but Mercy gives her hints both romantiac and plantonic, depending on how you ship them. (personally, PHARMERCY FTW!) She’s probably going to dress up in a suit and insist a bit more aggressively that she pays for dinner. The real fun begins when they return home ;)

Reaper: He’s the one who taught McCree all that soppy crap, so you’d expect him to be even showier, right? Actually, he’s more heartfelt than anything- minimalist, but with meaning. He’ll take off his mask over dinner (their favorite dishes, no matter how bland he may find them) and raises a glass of lamb’s blood a fine red, saying, “There will be no single day that I love you more than another, cariño, but today we can remember some of the best moments.” There will definitely be slow dancing afterward, and very soft cuddling. If they want to take it further, he will do anything they please tonight. 

Soldier76:  There will be no going out- all his suits are from his golden days, so someone would be bound to recognize him. Not that anyone would ever complain about his food- it’ll be hard getting to the couch after he;s done serving all four courses.  He takes his time getting all done up in a suit and shaving his stubble for the dinner, but what will probably end up happening is him changing into sweats and cuddling with them immediately afterward. His presents are always a little extra to make up for his tiredness, stuff along the lines of Genji’s, but with neater stitching. 

Sombra: She get’s some good tricks up her sleeve for this one; imagine having almost every singer, band, composer and producer at your disposal (literally, with the amount of blackmail she has on literally every and any celebrity.) She has somehow found a way to collect a handful of every single flower on this side of the ocean decorating the restaurant she’s reserved- and probably bought out- for the night. It’s undoubtedly some penthouse-suite, 3-Michelin Star type of restaurant, with a menu she has personally customized to fit the tastes of her boo.

Tracer: She zips all around King’s Row trying to book a reservation at a fancy restaurant before Valentine’s Day. But let’s be real, she’s probably doing this at 5:00 on Valentine’s Day, so there probably won’t be a reservation open until 12 am. Exasperated, she throws on a suit and video-calls Winston, begging him to guide her through a basic dinner to make before her S/O gets home. By the time they’re home, Winston is in tears on the other end of the line, and Lena’s suit is covered in flour and soy sauce and Gods know what else- but it’s still a sweet gesture. Who knew that she could steal a rose that fast?

Hanzo: He lays out a simple, elegant display. Red and white roses, a silken tablecloth, one of his old well-tailored numbers in a red that accents his new gold nose bar. He lays out a red carpet- where does he even get these things? It astounds everyone- and is thankful that takeout from fancy restaurants is now a thing. He’s awkward during dinner, but makes up for it by giving an even more awkward speech professing his love and dedication for his S/O after his hastily made dessert (which was probably vanilla ice cream with Hershey’s syrup drizzled elegantly on top.) It’s the thought taht counts, right?

Junkrat: Have you seen those photos of a thousand dominos falling down to form a huge heart and the words “I Love You” in some ridiculous calligraphy font that can only be seen from and airplane? yeah, he does that, but with gunpowder somehow. And the plane is just his Concussion Mine, but he ‘s holding his S/O when it goes off so they see it together.

Mei: She painstakingly carves an ice sculpture of something basic, like two swans with their heads dipped in a heart. That’s all she does. It takes up all of her time, and honestly, she cares more about the swans than she does her S/O’s reaction to them at the end of the night. 

Torbjorn: What is love? Love isn;t real. Not for this goblin. 

Widowmaker: She doesn’t even notice taht it’s Valentine’s day until her S/O brings it up. When they do, all she really does is shrug and mumble, “It is not a real holiday, anyway. Just an advertisement.” However, she betrays her own aloofness by immediately grabbing for and kissing them after she says this, which will (as usual) lead to very sensual things happening ;))))))))

D.Va: SHE IS ONLY 19, SHE WILL GAME WILL HER BOO ALL DAY. The mech will be programmed to do the heart emote over and over until it self-destructs.

Reinhardt: He likes to say that going to Valentine’s Day dinner at some fancy restaurant would attract too much attention since he’s a living legend, but he’s really more hesitant because he’s always tired lately. What’ll probably happen is him dressed up nice and kicking Torbjorn out of his own house as a romantic, homey setting. 

Roadhog: He cooks a five-course meal that somehow has meat in every single one of the dishes… even the dessert. Nothing unusual, except that he’s cleaned up a little bit (nicer clothes, maybe a suit if he really has that much energy) and might keep his mask off for longer than usual whilst eating. I headcanon Roadie as being the kind of like baths and bedttime right after dinner, so perhaps he has stolen a bath bomb from Widowmaker to make the bath tonight a bit more luxurious for his boo. As an extra course, he stole some top-quality chocolates for them during his daily escapades with Junkrat, and will probably nudge them to share during the bath as well. 

Zarya: She and her S/O spend the day out helping others in her hometown, which is what Zarya spends most of her time doing on a regular day. Today, she insists on spending a bit more on food for the homeless couples they encounter, as well as on chocolates for the children. However, due to the help of certain old compatriots, no matter how late they arrive home together, the apartment will be decorated at least half-decently. The roses will be half wilted and the dinner cold, but it won’t matter. She’ll style her hair up a little and slap on some formalwear for a dinner they’ll dine on half asleep together. 

Ana: She writes Fareeha and sends some cheesy card she ordered off of whatever version Etsy of the Overwatch era has. If she has a S/O, they’ll probably get about the same treatment, along with a simple dinner. She’s not one to go all-out, and she’ll probably have a S/O who understands her not needing to. She doesn;t need to be flashy in order to make her affections known. 

Lucio: He’ll go around the same route as Zarya, but on epic high-speed skates instead. And he’ll definitely have enough energy to quite literally zi[ them around to some high-tech new restaurant at the end of the night, so they can try something new together. That will also carry on into later hours….

Mercy: She will make time for her S/O on Valentine’s Day even if she’s half a world away from them on call. There will be some awkward videocall dinner, at the very least. However, if they’re together, she pulls a Tracer and rushes some presents, probably even running to Genji for a messy teddy bear commission. 

Symmetra: Let’s talk about the kind of fancy, over-the-top arrangements she’ll make with her tech, while completely disregarding the actual dinner bit of the day. Presents are no problem, arrangements are barely worth a second of concern, but she completely forgets that food can;t be made with hard-light technology. Guess it’s a takeout kinda night. 

Meet the Queen… Reina Feroz (vicarious-sims)

Hi, I’m Reina Feroz – fierce queen by name, fierce queen by nature. I knew I wanted to be a queen ever since I saw a drag queen show in Miami on a family vacay. I did musical theatre in high school and I love performing on the stage and having all eyes on me.  I’m not worried about the competition at all. I work as a makeup artist, hair stylist, and fashion stylist so I always look on point unlike these busted queens up here with their makeup melting faster than the Wicked Witch of the West and guilty of follicular manslaughter. I’m the most dusted fish queen around. I mean, how can I not be when I’m blessed with gorgeousness? I’m serving top-quality, Michelin 3-star fish - in a world filled with Red Lobster queens, I’m Beluga caviar. So enough about me (haha, not that I ever get enough of me) - show me the stage and I will outclass, outdress, outsing, outdance, and just about out everything my competition.


Make sure you follow @simblrdragrace!

ViVi Magazine January issue - Kyungsoo cuts, part two

I always carry around a backpack. I never leave behind my glasses, charger, or throat spray. I keep foam cleanser and lotion in the black pouch, which I actually bought at Muji (laughs).

Group questions:

▪ Your favorite Japanese phrase!

KS: Nan demo ii (Anything’s fine). I hear it a lot in Japanese movies. Is it something that people say often? I think its comforting and convenient.

▪ If you had a day off?

KS: I would watch movies and dramas all day long and then go out to eat something nice afterwards.

▪ Your goal for 2017!

KS: I want to think about health. Nothing big; I wish constantly for all the members to be healthy as we go about our daily lives.

▪ The world is ending tomorrow. What will you do?

KS: I’d want to eat sushi from the Michelin 3-star restaurant Sushi Saito.

▪ A spot you recommend in Seoul!

KS: A Korean cuisine restaurant called Duru that specializes in noodles, at Hakdong Intersection. Their stir-fried octopus and rice ball combo is the best!

Keep reading

Sooo

As you all may know I’ve been kinda busy doing the whole 3 Michelin star cooking thing

BUT

my love for anime has not died, and I actually have some free time on Wednesday, so keep your tabs open for 1 or 2 recipes that I’m gonna throw on here in dedication to a somewhat popular ice skating anime that you may or may not have heard of

See u in a few, dickheads

The Signs as Restaurants
  • Aries: The bold second restaurant opened by a 3 Michelin Star chef after their first resounding success. They serve an eclectic combination of technique-based dishes: gelatins and atomized sauces that diners can barely recognize for their ingredients. The dinner rush is beyond intense.
  • Taurus: The dim sum restaurant opened by recent immigrants in a conservative community. Their refusal to compromise their cultural identity in their menu make them divisive in the community, but their xiao long bao is unparalleled. Their dedicated customers find a real family connection.
  • Gemini: The sandwich shop that keeps changing ownership. They must not be in an ideal location, because every few months, it goes out of business, only to immediately be scooped up by another enterprising restauranteur. The lunch crowd ebbs, but the management is always enthusiastic.
  • Cancer: The local diner on the fringe of a mid-sized city, though it caters to a more rural clientele. The waitstaff is remarkably polite and immediately familiar, welcoming to familiar guests and new visitors alike. Their pecan pie is famous, and they're well-known for generous portion size.
  • Leo: The flashy theme restaurant in the city that's almost too popular to really enjoy. The food is spectacular, and just dining there is an experience that you won't easily forget. The waitstaff are friendly but harried, and the crush of other diners doesn't let up until closing.
  • Virgo: The efficient deli that everyone loves for lunch - even when they have a line snaking out the door, you'll never be waiting more then 10 minutes for food. The staff are friendly but brisk - they have work to do, and chit-chat doesn't get their famous pastrami sandwiches made.
  • Libra: The beachside french restaurant where the nouveau-riche take their significant others to propose. The wine list stretches into the triple-digit price range and reservations take weeks, if not months. The waitstaff are impeccably polite, and the menu is classic, if not daring.
  • Scorpio: The sushi bar that opens after 9 pm and has barely any table space, but manages to turn a profit. Their fan base is extremely loyal, and the staff is on first-name basis with regulars. The menu depends on the day - but the night life keeps streaming in no matter what they serve.
  • Sagittarius: The all-natural eatery with a conscience that serves the freshest, highest-quality produce and meat in the county. The waitstaff could probably tell you the name of the cow you're eating. The owner is constantly on the road tracking down fresh ingredients and new recipes.
  • Capricorn: The bar in a busy, high-class hotel. Despite the steady stream of stressed businesspeople in suits, the hosts and waitstaff are polite and generous, willing to extend any professional courtesy. Soft jazz plays in the background, barely audible over muted conversation.
  • Aquarius: The student-run coffee shop on a liberal arts college campus. The walls are decorated with radical leftist propaganda and more recent posters advertising student activist meetings and causes. The barista is constantly reading a brand-new copy of 'Das Kapital'.
  • Pisces: The friendly local pizza shop. You're guaranteed to meet the manager, as they're constantly out in the seating area, getting to know you and make sure your meal was to your liking. It's the perfect place to take a family or a casual date - just the right atmosphere for conversation.
youtube

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9mHTyDLddo)

Dinner at a 3-star Michelin restaurant inside a CASTLE, magical gardens, amazing cathedral, what we ate, sight seeing + a tour of our super cool Airbnb hotel room in the middle of the city!!! 

Let Michelin take you home safely this Chinese New Year

The Year of the Rooster promises luxury, beauty and wealth to all and that’s why we at Michelin want to make your journey back home to treasured moments this CNY a safe, smooth and economical one.

Our MICHELIN Energy XM2 tyre has been proven to give 20% more mileage than other leading brands out there and our MICHELIN Primacy 3 ST has 25% better longevity than its previous generation which is ideal for those who plan on traveling long distances.

Your tyres are what secure your car to the road and this is why it’s very important for you to read the rubber. Inspect your tyres for any tears or bulges on the side wall. Your tyres should also have a good amount of tread that is deep enough to ensure adequate traction in the wet. One way to measure this is to place a 20 cent coin in between the tread.

If the word “SEN” is clearly visible, you will need new tyres to ensure excellent grip in all weather conditions. The MICHELIN Pilot Sport 4 is one of the best options available when it comes to road-holding in wet conditions and shorter braking distance on wet roads without compromising performance and comfort.

Another must do before you start your journey back to your ‘kampung’ this CNY is to check the pressure of your tyres. A very important point to note here is that the number on the tyre’s side is the maximum pressure it can withstand and is not the recommended amount, which is actially located on a sticker at the driver’s door inner sil

Your tyres should be a little less inflated in cooler weather or rainy season and closer to their maximum in hotter weather or dry season. But be careful to never inflate your tyres too much as this could cause overinflation and compromised grip. And finally, don’t forget about that life-saving thing known as the spare tyre.

Acoustics of your tyre is also an important factor to determine a quiet and smooth ride, and at being 8% quieter than average of leading brands out there, the MICHELIN Primacy 3 ST is the best choice for luxury touring vehicles. Plus, the Primacy 3 ST has 25% better endurance when compared to previous generation Primacy LC tyres.

This coming festive season, as part of our “Return Home Safely to Treasured Moments” campaign, Michelin is offering a free travel organizer with every purchase of 2 Michelin tyres and 2 free travel organizers if you purchase 4 Michelin tyres. So hurry now and visit any TYREPLUS or Michelin dealers for a smooth and safe ride back home. Promotion ends on 27th January 2017.

LIONS OF LYON

This Sunday, we take a trip back to childhood with one of America’s greatest chefs, Daniel Boulud, to look at one of the most important figures in his life and career, Paul Bocuse—and at the system, the place and the culture of food that raised both of them.

Where do great chefs come from?
They do not emerge, fully formed, in crisp Egyptian cotton whites, towering toques, an imperious attitude, into their dining rooms. In France, in and around Lyon, where this episode of PARTS UNKNOWN takes place, a region famous for its food, chances are they were farm boys, the children of fathers already in the industry, the working poor. They were survivors of “the System”, products of a very old, entrenched military style hierarchy which relied on methods which we would now, rightly call abuse.

Back in the day—the years that my guide, the great chef Daniel Boulud  peeled his first carrot—you started early. Daniel’s childhood was dedicated to work on the family farm: milking cows, working the fields. Childhood ended for him, as it did for many chefs of that generation, at age 14, when he went to work in professional kitchens.

Things were harder then. Demanding a 12-16 hour work day of cooks was common practice. As was manhandling them. Slapping—even beating a cook was not unheard of, nor necessarily frowned upon. And if you worked with the best—as Daniel did, as a young Paul Bocuse did, as they ALL did, who rose through the French system to become what for a lack of a better word, we have come to call “Celebrity chefs”, the pressure—night after night, day after day, year after year, was enormous.

Every chef I’ve ever spoken to has one mentor who inhabits their dreams, who remains, years later, their personal nightmare. There is always someone whose disappointed or angry face, appearing in a dream, causes successful, world famous chefs to, decades later, sit bolt upright in bed from a dead sleep, mouth open in mute terror, certain they’ve left something in the oven, messed up a sauce, forgotten an instruction—somehow drawn the wrath of “Chef”. 

For Eric Ripert, I suspect, it’s Joel Robuchon who still visits him at night. For Gordon Ramsay? Marco Pierre White, looming over him again and again, crawling inside his head, driving him to tears. I asked the “Lion of Lyon”, Paul Bocuse, perhaps the most famous and respected chef of the last 100 years, a man now in his 80’s, if there was someone in his past, some mentor of  long ago, who still disturbed his dreams.

“La Mere Brazier,” he responded without having to reflect for a second.  

When tracking it all back—the recipes, the traditions, the structure, behaviors, the genealogy of haute cuisine…when we look at the sleek fine dining rooms of the 1%ers we love to loathe, and we look back at where those techniques, those presentations, the combinations of ingredients came from—we find, largely, a group of women in Lyon between the wars, called “Les Meres”. Most famously, the fearsome Mere Brazier.  These were women cooks who moved out of the houses of the rich to fill the vacuum left by males departing for the war. They opened restaurants, bouchons and bistros across Lyon, adapted dishes created for their previous clients—along with the best of what they’d grown up with—refined them to satisfy the demands of a very discerning public. Searching the mostly male kitchens of modern Lyon for where it all came from, the roots of what became, in the 60’s and 70’s, “la Nouvelle Cuisine”, —we found again and again that all roads seemed to lead back to them.
La Mere Brazier, was, by the way, not just the first woman to be awarded 3 Michelin Stars—but the first CHEF—period—to hold SIX (between two restaurants).

Times were often very tough in France. Many of the principles of the grand kitchens came directly from the imperatives of survival on the farm: “Use Everything.”. “Waste Nothing”. These are dictums familiar to any culinary student today. So, what we’re talking about, when we look back for the source of all this “frippery” and “frou-frou”, the luxuries and excesses of fine dining, we find, much of the time, dishes whose inspiration began with a broke-ass farmer trying to figure out how to feed his family from a single bony rooster, and generations of abused, overworked, underpaid children—none of whom were allowed, much less able to afford to eat—ever—in their own dining rooms.

So, if you look at Daniel Boulud, who now runs some of the greatest restaurants in the country (and beyond), and you think you see a guy who lives in some aspirational fantasyland—keep in mind, he had his teeth kicked in every day for three decades or so before getting here. When you see the simple looking preparation of Salmon in Sorrel sauce in the kitchen of les frères Troisgros, try and understand that what you are seeing changed the way ALL of us now order and eat our fish today, that it marked a tectonic shift as important to the craft of cooking as the invention of the electric guitar to music.

Lastly, when looking at where it all comes from, know that it comes from a culture where food is, simply put, important. Because it IS important
In the episode, we go back to Daniel’s primary school, where, for a fraction of what we spend in this country to feed our kids horrifying, processed slop, kids get to eat a healthy, delicious and relatively adventurous meal. Eating well, in France, as in Italy, Spain, most of Asia,  much of Latin America, is a point of pride—an expression of identity—a birthright. Whether it’s simply a bowl of beans or a bony fish grilled over wood, its preparation is worth talking about, it’s worth arguing about passionately. 

Our newfound American obsession with all things food and chefs may veer frequently into the silly zone—but we are, in our own awkward way, lurching towards what others have had for centuries: a basic understanding that food—GOOD food—is a fundamental, hugely important part of life well lived, at whatever income bracket.

When I was a young cook, getting MY ass kicked on a regular basis, or bouncing from one never-gonna-happen kitchen to another, I owned a treasured copy of Paul Bocuse’s “La Cuisine de Marche”. I’d stare for hours at a time at the photos of dishes like Truffle Soup Elysee en croute, Lievre a la Royale, his incredible whole fish in pastry, trying to figure out how, how anyone could make such beautiful things. Struggling through the recipes with my rudimentary French skills didn’t help much in solving the mystery or lessening the wonder. The dishes remained, for all my life, unapproachable—a lost ideal, legendary creations of another time that I. sadly, would never see.

On this episode, I finally got to see them. Better yet, to eat all of them, the Greatest Hits of the Glorious career of Paul Bocuse—while he sat next to me. It was an amazing, unexpected, never-dreamed of, late in life windfall. Like a lifelong Yankee fan, somehow finding himself throwing the ball around the backyard with Joe DiMaggio. 

Daesung X Excite Music

“Things DLITE got into lately” Ranking
1. Sushi
2. Drama Drums
3. Love

Translator: alteen_ai

EDIT: the translator made a new change and added more translation

1. Sushi

I always liked sushi, but after I watched documentary about Sukiyabashi Jiro (Jiro Dreams of Sushi, 2011 USA) I suddenly became very curious. You need to make advance reservation to come to this popular restaurant having 3 Michelin stars. I also made a reservation, but haven’t gone there yet. Chief’s health is not so good these days, so I worry [for him]. Previously (year 2013 i/v) I told you that I liked mackerel, but now my most favorite are sea urchin ones.

2. Drums ( this was changed from drama to drums!)

Though I was curious about it from long ago and thought “ah, I wanna do it someday”, I didn’t have an opportunity to learn until recently, but after last year tour ended I started study little by little. Since I was a child, while listening to music, I always heard drum beats first. I got scolded severely for striking this rhythm with my chopsticks. Well, when you start practice it, it appears pretty difficult but still fun after all. I started from basic exercises, then exercises like copying [drums part] in songs. My teacher also likes rock, so there were lots of song of MUSE and maroon5. As to favorite drummer, it’s Jonathan Moffett who participated in Michael Jackson’s “THIS IS IT”

I don’t understand why there is a question of Will and Hannibal being alive. The final scene shows Bedelia at a dinner table with settings for three, while her leg has been cooked to perfection on the dinner table.  

There’s only one Hannibal character who has a thing for cooking and presenting human limbs with the expertise of a 3 star Michelin chef.