#theleaving

[arcadequeerz]

me: damn it wimdy outside. what the hell.

-sees there's a wind advisory-

me: d:0

[porciaenjoyer]

#THELEAVER

[detectivezedd]

#ACT_OF_FAITH

#Episode 29#Title: Eze Ani.The chief priest of AniAS NARRATED BY ADANNAAs our elders would say, “hewhom has been bitten once by asnake will run when he sees the tail of a lizard” I went to thestream that morning to get wateras any other day, I was just aboutbringing the pot out of the waterwhen I heard the rustling of theleaves, it was this same rustling I had heard some days back andhad almost…

[mealsappeals]

Laing

This recipe is different from the ones that I've posted before. This is the first time that I will be showcasing a vegetable dish. I think this deserves to be shared, as it was one of the specialties of my grandmother. Here's a short story. Back when my grandmother was still alive, whenever she went to the farm, she always brought some "gabi" home. Every time we have some "gabi", she always cooks this dish called "laing". I remember the first time I tasted this food. I was really surprised, as it didn't look that appetizing to me the first time that I had seen it. But just like they said, "Don't judge a book by its cover". It tastes really delicious, making it an immediate favorite of mine. But, it has been a long time since the last time I tasted this food. So, I’m going to share my grandmother’s recipe so that I am not the only one who can enjoy this wonderful food.

How to make Laing

Ingredients

2 ounces dried gabi leaves

1 medium onion diced

½ cup of shrimp paste

3 cloves of garlic minced

1 kilo of ground pork diced

5 pieces of labuyo chili chopped

1 medium ginger diced

2 tablelspoon pepper

1 teaspoon of salt

3 cups of coconut milk

 Instructions

Combine the taro leaves and stem, coconut milk, pork, shrimp paste, ginger, onion, chili, and garlic in a cooking pot.

Heat the pot and bring it to a boil.

After this, gently stir to mix the ingredients.

Lower heat, cover, and cook until the pork is fully cooked and theleaves have softened.

Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Serve and enjoy!

For more Laing recipe, here's a link below:

[rachelcartonn]

Finished my lc mocks but basically everyone found out the Irish p1 titles before the exam and then the teacher pulled a fast one on us and changed them (literally glued a page over it) & everyone chose an essay title we’d looked at before but instead I chose one on a topic we’ve literally NEVER even discussed?? I’m actually such a retard

[theleavingbookproject]

Other

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[not-she-who-wanders]

Carrie Underwood on vinyl got me like 😂😭😂😭😂😭😂 But seriously, I've been wanting this album on vinyl for the longest time and it's finally in my collection 🎉🎉 Also, update on Stranger Things season 2 . . . I'm emotionally dead right now. I watched the entire season in one sitting on the release day and stayed up till one in the morning finishing the last episode. No regrets 😎😎 _ QOTD: Favorite comfort food for a cold day?? (Mine is nice warm homemade chicken soup) _ #theleaving #carrieunderwood #GOT7 #itsskin #books #book #bookstagram #reading #reader #ireadYA #bookworm #bookstagrammer #instabook #bookphotography #BTS #bangtanboys #IGOT7 #ARMY

[theboywhoreadsbooks]

I may have bought some books yesterday... • • #books #bookstagram #bookphotography #bookhaul #dreamsofgodsandmonsters #lainitaylor #thewinnerskiss #marierutkoski #theartofbeingnormal #lisawilliamson #thecalloftheforgotten #juliekagawa #theleaving #taraaltebrando #talesofthepeculiar #ransomriggs #talesfromtheshadowhuntersacademy #cassandraclare

[dontyoumeansadadult]

[oilofdog]

#1960sPsychedelic #PsychedelicGarage #Tonight on #OILOFDOG with #GaryStorm on #LKCB streaming at www.lkcb.ca at 8:00 PM Eastern Time. #CountFive #Zombies #BluesProject #TheLeaves #BluesMagoos #ThirteenthFloorElevators #Candymen #Standells #Yardbirds #MusicMachine #Music #Radio #Records #Vinyl #CompactDiscs #Cat #Kitty https://www.instagram.com/p/CKkD_PIFV3A/?igshid=1jfnj6atkrpxg

[poptod]

Hello There 👋🏻 I don’t know if you got the request that I sent to you last week, but I’m gonna send it again just in case. Since Christmas is in two weeks, may I please request a Safin x Reader, where Safin surprises the reader by kissing them underneath the mistletoe 😁💕?

notes: i didn't get ur ask! that's very weird, ive heard of that happening but its never happened to me but anyway, this is a little short but i hope you likethisone! i kinda made it a continuation of 'can you touch your reflection' cuz im a little lazy lol also this story gave me reason to study trees so i finally memorized whichone deciduous means cuz i got confused on whether it meant theleaves fell or they stayed throughthe winter okay sorry for thelong note (and the typing, my space is still stuck)

WC: 1.7k

+

There were few differences between summer and winter when it came to the Kuril islands. Summers lasted no more than a month or two, and they were filled with wind and rain, which battered cool, summer storms on the large windowpanes of the labs. Winters bore foreboding blizzards and long, dark days, bringing the same storms––though much colder––that the summer did.

Regardless of the change in season, you looked out of the pristine glass and found an overcast sky predicting thick layers of precipitation. Snow already coated the land.

Neither you nor Safin were especially religious, meaning even the more homey areas in the bunker remained undecorated, vacant from the holiday cheer you knew in your childhood. He never celebrated holidays in his life, but you had, and a part of you missed the traditions that called back to your ancient ancestors. How strange your yearning now seemed, when in those times you endured your worst years.

You sighed deeply, leaning your cheek into your propped up palm as you stared out the massive wall of windows. Fog crawled up the window at your breath, and the freezing air outside kept it there, seeping the frost into your home.

"What is it you're missing, dear?"

You whipped around, your shoulders tensed until you realized it was only Lyutsifer behind you. As usual, the blue cloak on his shoulders kept him warm, while his bare hands were kept close to his chest. The scars on his skin left him more sensitive to Russia's chill.

"Nothing, I don't think," you said quietly, but it was still the loudest sound in the empty, echoing room, and your voice caught on the high ceiling.

A soft, humorless chuckle left him, and he stepped closer. You adored how he smiled; how it'd make stars appear in your eyes, how it made you smile, as well.

"What can I do for you?" He asked as he sat down across from you, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his posture pristine.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been here nearly all day," he said. "It's 16 o' clock."

"Really?" You rubbed your eyes, hoping to rid them of the cold. "I didn't notice."

"Clearly." He scanned you for a moment. "Is this about your father?"

You stiffened, your lips curling into a thin line.

"You don't miss him, do you?" He asked quietly.

"No. I just... remember," you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers. "Somehow I want to relive it, even though I know it was bad."

"A classic sign of trauma," he said, and you gave a tiny nod. "Will you let me distract you?"

He offered you his hand. You smiled, closing your eyes as you placed your hand in his.

"Of course, my love."

If there was one place in this building that ever felt any love, it would be the garden. He spent ceaseless, tireless hours studying and maintaining the plants, testing their abilities and their limits.

You'd never had the peace of mind to read as deeply into the biological art as he did, but you knew a fair amount of the names of what he grew. In the very least they were all familiar, despite the daily change of natural growth, including the vines that grew up the side of a tall, thorny tree. Every time you visited the garden with Lyutsifer, another sprout of ivy was ready to bloom.

"Careful with that one, dear," he said, leaning the short way down to peer over your shoulder. "It's been weak lately."

"I know, black locust, deciduous" you chuckled, turning to watch how the edges of his lips twitched upwards beside you.

"Tell me what it does."

"Bark and roots are poisonous, especially to horses, and the seeds are poisonous to humans, I think."

"Very good." He pecked your temple. "Can you tell me what makes it a potential invasive species?"

"The.. the wood is weak, and the flowers grow in clusters, meaning there's lots of seeds that are being spread in a small area."

"The wood is brittle, but otherwise correct," he chuckled. "It grows incredibly quickly and is highly susceptible to locust attacks."

The two of you shared knowing smiles for a split second before he departed, returning with scissors to trim a low-growing bush. As always when he worked, he had donned large, white gloves, protecting him from the poisons of his trade.

The garden was a special sort of beauty; not particularly aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but paired with the knowledge of its' contents, became a marvel of nature. You could spend hours wandering through his family's gardens, but as usual, you were more caught up in watching Lyutsifer tend to the plants.

What happened catch your eye was something new––something that appeared to be a round bush, clinging to the barren tops of deciduous trees. From the way it grew, you assumed it to be another one of his infectious plants, invading and killing the natural growth of a forest. Here, however, it was contained, and you stared with a gently knotted brow at the clusters that stretched across the dry, tangled wood.

"Lyutsifer," you said softly, not bothering to tear your eyes from the tree. You knew he'd be at your side in a second.

"Yes?" He tucked his gloved hands behind his back.

"Is this tree infected or something?"

"Yes. With mistletoe."

You paused, turning to him after a moment's silence during which he didn't elaborate.

"Mistletoe?" You repeated.

"Yes, an obligate hemiparasite." You grinned silently as he began to blurt out facts, a habit he picked up when the two of you were alone. "Obligate parasites are unable to live any longer without a host to feed off of. But the hemiparasite part dictates that the mistletoe only takes some of the hosts' resources, and collects other resources on its' own."

"What does it take from the tree?"

"Water. It can photosynthesize, but none of its' roots seep water from the earth.." he trailed off as he stared up at the infection. "Phora and viscotoxin make it a poison, though a poorly working one."

"Is it... new?" You asked, unable to recall if you'd seen it before or not.

"Yes, only a week or so. It grows incredibly quickly, which is fortunate for the use I've planned for it," he said with a small nod.

You chuckled, "what've you got in mind for it? Some other devious poison?"

"No," he answered simply. "You'll find out."

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously in his direction, hoping the glare would pry more information, but he just grinned and returned to pruning his darlings. Dissatisfaction bubbled beneath your expression––you tempered it by moving on to pale, flowering buds.

Your devotion to Safin was never a question, but his love affair with poison did worry you. Both of you had been victims of lethal toxins, set within your body for the express purpose of death. His reaction to it was to know poison; to know its' limits, its' capabilities, its' cures. How to weaponize it. If there was something you despised about him, it would be this, as your reaction had been the opposite of his––an intense, oppressive paranoia. You would, of course, never say anything. You still owed him your life.

Even in the humid, temperate climate of the garden, your hands and fingers remained frozen. It limited your time with Safin, and soon you were headed back towards the comforting fireplace.

The day turned quietly to night, with no artful sunset or coloring of the sky. No north star appeared, and no galaxy was visible by the time dark had overwhelmed the land, but one thing had happened; while you were back to staring out the window, Lyutsifer padded silently into the living room, and lined the fireplace's mantle with blue and white fairy lights. He wouldn't dare decorate anywhere outside your pocket of the complex, where you––his angel––spent most of your time. But by the time you turned round, he was already gone, and you were left alone to marvel at the tiny lights.

As you wandered about your home with dinner in mind, you came across a few more pieces he had set up. A wreath of pine and red sugar plums, Russian ornaments and dolls dangling from the light fixtures. The last one you found that day was hanging in the threshold of the kitchen, where you stood for a moment, leant against the frame with a stupid grin as you watched him cook.

At first, you didn't notice it there above you––Lyutsifer had time to set away his spoon and approach you till he stood closely before you.

"I saw the things you put up," you said quietly, just barely containing your adoration for his thoughtfulness.

The moment you said your last word he was leaning in, capturing you in a soft kiss that pulled you wordlessly toward him. His scarred hand reached up to your cheek, brushing over the skin, and cradling your jaw to keep you close. Your lips stretched into a smile when he regretfully parted, leaving one chaste good-bye kiss.

"What was that for?" You asked.

It was rare that he initiated touch, but when he did, it was much like this––this overwhelming, infinite yearning that poured from his heart to yours.

His eyes flickered upwards, and it was then you saw the freshly-trimmed mistletoe hanging above you, wrapped in a tight, red ribbon. You chuckled as your cheeks flushed red.

"Is that your project for it, then?"

"Don't worry. I have more planned."

By 'more' he apparently meant more of the same thing, as for the next two weeks, you found more and more mistletoe in increasingly odd places; hanging above the couch, above the dinner table, on the shower door (yes, even there), and in your bedroom. As he dipped in to kiss you for the umpteenth time in front of the fireplace, where he'd hung another bouquet of mistletoe, you finally said something.

"You know, you don't have to do all this work just so you have an excuse to kiss me. You can do it any time you'd like," you said, though your seriousness barely retained itself, erased by your rosy grin.

He kissed you again before responding.

"I haven't got any holiday traditions," he said, and you knew that. You never thought it bothered him. "This one I like more than any other."

"Well," you took his hand, raising it to your lips and pressing a tiny kiss to his palm, "indulge as much as you'd like, my love."

[jovialvegetarianfreak-blog]

I liked the executioner. #theleaves #thefall (at Houston, Texas) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4Lcm3bgZxw/?igshid=dzcuj59fsqfd

[lisa-lostinlit]

The super fun @booksparks #src2017 is coming to an end! Did you join? How many books did you end up reading? . Here's another recent addition to my TBR by the amazing team at @booksparks! I'll definitely be sure to paint my nails this gorgeous color while reading this one. 😉 . 💬Have you read The Leavers by Lisa Ko? Thoughts? ________________________________________________________ 📖Synopsis: One morning, Deming Guo’s mother, an undocumented Chinese immigrant named Polly, goes to her job at the nail salon and never comes home. No one can find any trace of her. . With his mother gone, eleven-year-old Deming is left with no one to care for him. He is eventually adopted by two white college professors who move him from the Bronx to a small town upstate. They rename him Daniel Wilkinson in their efforts to make him over into their version of an “all-American boy.” But far away from all he’s ever known, Daniel struggles to reconcile his new life with his mother’s disappearance and the memories of the family and community he left behind. . Set in New York and China, The Leavers is a vivid and moving examination of borders and belonging. It’s the story of how one boy comes into his own when everything he’s loved has been taken away--and how a mother learns to live with the mistakes of her past. . This powerful debut is the winner of the 2016 PEN/Bellwether Prize for fiction, awarded by Barbara Kingsolver for a novel that addresses issues of social justice. ________________________________________________________ @algonquinbooks #theleavers #lisako #bookmail #flatlay #flatlays #vscobooks #vsco #bookstagram #bookstagrammer #booknerd #bookworm #book #📚

[raeiolene]

17 August 2019 / Two books. . . . . . #fms_twothings #iowa #books #reading #theleavers #houseofsaltandsorrows #stories #august #summer #augustphotochallenge #photochallenge #photoaday #fmsphotoaday https://www.instagram.com/p/B1XnxVVAv_t/?igshid=51asdm97en4g

[hidekinishihara-blog]

息子達と🥳with my son！ #wedding #maebashi #theleaves (ザ・リーヴス　プレミアムテラス) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0OBWS2nf5P/?igshid=1qczjty5lo465

[theleavingbookproject]

About Us

This webpage is ran by a collective of anonymous students living in the bay. We grew up with The Leaving, and now we dedicate our free time to post and gather as many supporters as possible to solve this case.