#how can one store soup in a pantry...

[mourning-again-in-america]

eating lamb soup with hand pulled noodles from a shaanxian place, overlooking the river, seeing the elevated and metro trains pass simultaneously <3

[lou-struck]

Cheesin and Grillin

Kotaro Bokuto x reader

Prompt: 🎶+ kitchen

~After a productive afternoon, you are happy to make up some grilled cheese for two 

W.C: 2k+

A/n: this is a prompt from an old event I wanted to finish so I hope you guys enjoy!

You're not sure how it happened, but today has transformed from a leisurely day off into a hard-core cleaning day. Maybe the urge to clean everything in sight came in with the breeze that danced through your open windows, Or maybe you just felt like it because, for the first time in weeks, you have had nothing to do and a decent chunk of alone time.

It's not that your apartment is messy, but you and Bokuto have busy lives and many responsibilities. Responsibilities that take precedence over wiping down the shelves of your refrigerator and all those extra deep cleaning tasks that you aren't able to get to on an everyday basis.

A citrus-scented candle flickers in the corner of the room as you listen to your playlist over a little speaker. The flames seem to dance to the beat of your favorite songs. These songs may not be the most popular, but they are your favorite to listen to in the judgment-free moments that solitude can bring. 

Your music is rudely interrupted by the pinging of your phone over the speaker. It pings again and again and again as you are bombarded by eager, loving text messages from your boyfriend, who must be done with his volleyball practice. You weren't expecting to hear from him so soon, when he left earlier this morning, he told you that his team was having a photo shoot for their new merchandise and he wouldn't be back until later.

Hey, hey, hey!!!

Guess what babeeeee??

Photo dude bailed and now I am freeeee

Coming home now!

Let's eat lunch together!!!

You snort as you read his string of messages. If they were sent by anyone else, you're sure that all of that information would be in one text. But not Bokuto. He wears his heart on his sleeve and sends his texts as soon as they enter his head. It's great that the two of you get to have a spontaneous lunch, but you can't help but feel a bit worried. Your boyfriend has an incredible appetite and will definitely need to eat something filling to fuel him after his intense practice session.

Making a meal for one is one thing; when you're cooking by yourself, it's easy to just get by taking handfuls of whatever sounds good. But lunch for two people requires cooking; it requires ingredients.

Ingredients that you might not have. These past few weeks have been so busy that neither of you has been able to go to the grocery store.

The linoleum floors of your kitchen have never looked shinier as you leap over the remaining streaks of water the mop has left behind to get to the now sparkling refrigerator.

Flinging open the door, you admire your handiwork. There is not a streak of stray condiments or puddles from a leaky takeout box in sight. Save for a few groceries, it looks almost completely empty. 

Just as your stomach begins to rumble…

I guess Kotaro isn't the only one who's hungry.

You stare blankly into the fridge, enjoying the sensation of cold, lemon-scented air on your warm skin. Aside from a few condiments, there isn't much food to choose from, but what catches your eye is a block of cheese and the last half of the sourdough loaf your coworker made for you. 

"Grilled cheese?" you say aloud, reaching for the two components. The idea makes you suddenly remember that you have a can of tomato soup in the pantry that you can heat up to make the meal more satisfying. 

The bread is beautiful; its crust is a rich golden brown, and the inside looks like lace. You have no idea what your friend did to make such a perfect loaf of bread, but you know how heavenly it will taste once you toss it in a pan with some cheese.

With your fav on the way home, there is no time to lose. You remove a cutting board and pan from the drying rack and get to work. You set the pan on the stove and crank the burner to low as you begin slicing up your bread and cheese, making sure to nibble on a few of the not-so-perfect slices of cheddar goodness as a reward for all your hard work.

As the pan's temperature slowly climbs, you smear one side of the freshly sliced bread with some overpriced artisanal garlic butter that Kotaro bought last week for its cool packaging.

As soon as you assemble your sandwich ingredients and place them on the pan with a light sizzle, Your boyfriend bursts through the door like a happy hurricane. 

"Something smells good in here, and it sure isn't me," he exclaims, smelling the masterpiece you have been creating.

His wild golden gaze scans you as he haphazardly tosses his gym bag on the floor. When he sees you, His smile is instant as he runs towards you and scoops you up with ease, peppering your face with kisses. "Ahhhh y/n! I missed you so much." He cries dramatically, his voice slightly panting from his barrage of kisses. "I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you in forever."

"I missed you too, Bo," you say, leaning in and giving him a light kiss of your own. "But I'm glad you were able to come home early today."

"Right? Me too. The minute they told us we could go, I was out the door." His eyes are fixated on the pan as he picks off a piece of frying cheese with his fingers as he continues, "I almost ran over Omi with my car when I was pulling out of the parking lot because I was so excited, we never get to have lunch together like this so I am super excited."

"And was he mad?" you ask, watching him unbothered toss the fried cheese into his mouth with his usual unfaltering smile.

"I don't know, I was too excited to see you." if this man had a tail, it would be wagging up a storm right now. Suddenly, you both notice that a new song is playing through the speaker. 

"Hey hey hey! this is that song you like, right ?" He asks with a grin. He sets you back on your own two feet and reaches a muscular arm over to the window ledge to crank up the speaker's volume as loud as it can go. 

Grabs both of your hands. "Come on, babe, let's go crazy."

His energy is infectious, and you find yourself dancing along with him and belting out the words. You're not surprised that he took the time to learn every word to your favorite song, that's just the kind of man he is. He knows that when you care about something, He wants to care about it, too.

He spends on the beat, grabs a spatula off the counter, and starts singing into it like it's a microphone. When you're with him, it's easy to get swept up in his carefree silliness, and soon, the two of you are screaming along to the music like the fools in love you are.

Everything is perfect.

Until…

The chalky scent of smoke floats under your nose. And the spell is broken, your microphone is once again a spatula and the grilled cheeses you were making are smoking. Your eyes shoot open in a panic as you look across the kitchen at the pan you had left unattended. You rush over to the sandwich halves and flip them over in hopes of salvaging something edible.

But your efforts are in vain, the grilled cheeses are absolutely charred, inedible. Not even Bokuto would eat this mouthful of ash.

The smoke alarm, just your boyfriend's spiky black and white head, blares loudly/a painful noise, causing him to cry out in pain as he raises his large palms to his ears. 

Damn it. All you wanted to do was make some grilled cheese, and now your kitchen is hazy with smoke, and the alarm is so loud you cannot hear yourself think. 

"Don't worry, babe, I got it." He yells, sensing your distress. The athlete rushes around your apartment opening windows and turning on fans to try and clear out the smoke. But when the alarm continues to go off, he grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

He swings the garment rapidly above his head like a helicopter, and you can't help but admire his well-built physique; he's not just strong; all those hours in the gym have him looking like he was just carved out of marble. Although you have seen him shirtless countless times, the beautiful sight never fails to bring a flustered heat to your skin.

You are so focused on the extroverted artwork in front of you that you don't even realize that the smoke alarm has long since quieted. 

"Hey hey hey, it looks like someone likes what they see." he laughs, suggestively wiggling his thick eyebrows at you. He flexes just a tad more just to tease you before putting his shirt back on.

With that wonderful distraction taken care of, you returned to your task at hand. Disposing of the lumps of charcoal that were supposed to be grilled cheese sandwiches. Your face falls as you look at your ruined lunch, unable to look at the monstrosity any longer; you pick up the still steaming pan and walk it over to the disposal, a heartbroken expression on your face as you mourn the loss of the bread. Maybe one day, your pal will make you another loaf, but at this point, do you deserve it? 

"Wait," Kotaro says, suddenly holding out his hands. He is looking at you with the same expression he makes when his team manager pulls him away from signing autographs for starry-eyed children. "Don't look so sad y/n, I don't want your hard work to go to waste. I'll still eat it." 

He reaches his hand to the skillet, ready to pretty much eat ash to make you happy, but you laugh and dispose of the 'sandwiches' before he attempts to poison himself.

"You're so sweet, Kou, but these sandwiches are ruined, and there's not much else in the fridge." you frown as you try to think of a backup plan. There's an overpriced market on the corner, you could run down there and just grab something for you two to eat and then go to your usual grocery store after?

But there is something so disheartening about going to the store twice in one day, it seems like a waste of a trip.

Although he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, your boyfriend's eyes light up. "I have an Idea, come with me." He bounds over to you eagerly and tosses you over his shoulder. ""I'm gonna take you out on a lunch date and then we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want." He is so excited about getting to spend the day with you he starts toward the door without keys, wallet, phone, shoes, or anything else that you need to leave the house.

"Wait, Kotaro. Let me down for a second," you squeal, a gleeful smile on your face. "I need to put on my shoes first if we are gonna go anywhere."

"Oh, right." he chuckles, setting you down gently. "Sorry, I guess I was getting ahead of myself again; it's easy to get carried away when I am carrying you."

You chuckle at his cheesy declaration as you lace up your shoes. Today's errand date will probably be anything but ordinary, but with Bokuto, you find yourself embracing the good-natured chaos that seems to follow him everywhere with the same love that you have for the rest of him.

Tagging: @sleepyyshroom, @isaacdaknight

[lady-pug]

In Sickness And In Health - In Sickness

Summary: The kid fell ill while Din is away and you feel absolutely hopeless trying to help him, but nothing seems to work. You get progressively more worried the more he cries, and it's driving you insane. Hopefully Din will get back soon.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 3,8k

Warnings: description of sickness (also Grogu throws up), small injuries (scratches)

Notes: this one is actually a two-shot, in which both parts complement each other. This was a fun one to write. Do keep in mind that Grogu is sick in this one, so there are descriptions of feeling ill and throwing up (so if this is something that makes you uncomfortable please feel free to skip ahead). As always, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you enjoy this one!

Reader’s gender not specified.

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Crying. That’s all you could hear and all your mind could focus on. You even felt like crying yourself. The kid had been desperately wailing for hours already and no matter what you did he wouldn’t stop. 

Din had been gone for almost two days now, away gathering information that could be useful in finding the kid’s people. While you had originally wanted to go with him, he had deemed the place and the people he was meeting too dangerous for the kid, and asked that you stay on the Crest and look after him while he was gone (“Just like the good old days, huh?” you had joked, to which Din answered with a brief chuckle).

Almost immediately after Din had left the kid started growing fussy. You hadn’t given it too much thought as it was pretty normal behavior for him everytime his guardian left, missing him as much as you did, and had tried to distract him with some coloring and some food. Your suspicion that something was indeed wrong started to arise when the kid refused to eat the jerky you offered him, and continued whimpering. After all, this little boy loved food almost more than anything. You decided that maybe a nap would make him feel better and put him in his little hammock above Din’s bunk, where he fell asleep almost immediately.

The silence on the ship lasted only a few hours, which you had used to fix some wiring under the navigation controls, before the kid woke up wailing. You scrambled from under the controls, almost hitting your head in the process, and ran to the hull to check on him. Once you opened the bunk’s door the sight before you made your heart clench with concern.

The kid was bawling his eyes out, the little hammock swinging back and forth with the force of his sobs, his skin a paler shade of green, almost grayish. 

“Oh, my love” you picked him up gently, but his squirming nearly made you drop him, so you cradled him a little more firmly “What’s wrong?”

His little robe felt wet under your palms, his skin damp with sweat. You gently laid the back of your hand on his forehead, confirming that he was indeed quite warm.

“You’re ill, is that what’s bothering you?” you cooed at him, trying to calm him down “Let’s see how we can make you feel better, yes?”

You took him back to the cabinet that served as a kitchen pantry.

“When I was little, old lady Aola often took care of me when I was sick. She would help Porcellus make this amazing cream of womp rat soup that would get me back on my feet in no time.” you sat him down on a counter, his crying never ceasing “Let’s see if we can improvise something similar for you.”

Improvise, as it turned out, was a huge understatement. It was quite hard to store fresh food on the Razor Crest, so you and Din mainly kept canned essentials and food that could be frozen and subsequently defrosted. The rare times you managed to come across fresh goods, they were quickly consumed before they could spoil. Therefore you found out you didn’t have the main ingredient to make soup for the kid: womp rat meat.

“Okay, not to worry, we can figure something out, right kid?”

You didn’t receive a response, the little boy only kept on crying. The more he sobbed, the more distressed you felt, fumbling with the ingredients to finish the soup quicker. More than once his crying spiked a little louder, almost making you chop a finger off. 

“There we go” you said once you finished, pouring some of the soup on a tiny bowl for him “You’ll start to get better after you eat.”

Once the soup had cooled off a little you handed him the bowl and turned back to get some for yourself. What you did not expect, however, was for the kid to grow even more fussy, screaming even louder, and use his magic powers to send the entire pan flying towards you.

“Maker, kid!” you yelped, the soup burning your skin even through your clothes as it ran down the front of your shirt. Some had splashed on your exposed arms, the skin there starting to redden.

That seemed to calm him down somewhat. In between hiccups, the little boy started giggling.

“Yeah, this’ what does it, huh?” he laughed even more at the pained grimace on your face “Laugh at my misery, kid, and see what happens.” you smirked at him, no malice behind it.

You went back to your cot to grab a somewhat clean shirt to replace the one soaking with soup. You winced as you tried to peel it off, the course material sticking to your injured skin. Once you were presentable you went back to the kid to find him quietly sipping his soup.

“Feeling better now that you let it all out of your system?” you asked him, to which he only gurgled in response.

After cleaning up the mess the kid had made while he finished eating you decided to check his temperature. Placing your palm against his head, you noticed that he felt even warmer than before. 

“This doesn’t feel good.” 

Grabbing the ship’s medkit you retrieved the infrared thermometer, but not before noticing a single stimshot sitting there. You stared at the small green item at the bottom of the kit, pondering your next steps. You were hesitant about using it, not knowing anything about the kid’s species and how his system would react to the stim. Besides, the dose was designed for adults. Maker, it was strong enough to use on a wookie, what would happen if you gave it to a baby? I’ll leave it as a last resort, you decided.

The number displayed on the thermometer was high, but you couldn’t tell exactly how high for the kid’s standards. 

“I guess we’ll just have to monitor your fever.” you smiled down at him, realizing his eyes were getting a little droopy “How about we give you a nice, lukewarm bath and put you down to sleep, what do you say?”

Compared to his fussiness from earlier, the kid was incredibly calm while you washed and dried him. He was practically asleep by the time you put him down on his hammock again.

You decided a cold shower would do you good. Upon closer inspection, now that you weren’t in such a rush, the skin of your chest and stomach was quite red. There were even some small blisters where the hot soup had come in direct contact with the skin of your arms. If you remembered correctly, there wasn’t much bacta left so you decided against using it, as Din could need it once he was back. The cold water helped soothe the burns.

Hopping out of the shower you sat down on your cot with a datapad to do some research. Surely someone on the holonet knew something about a species with green skin and big pointy ears, right? But you came back empty handed, as not a single mention to anything similar to the kid’s kind could be found. You quickly changed your approach and settled upon browsing through blogs with tips for first-time parents on how to take care of ill babies. A few tips were actually pretty useful.

This whole day had been very exhausting and had left you completely drained. Checking the chrono you realized it was starting to get dark outside. After checking on the kid one last time, you decided to go to bed early.

You managed to get only a couple of hours of shuteye before you jolted back to consciousness by the kid screaming bloody murder. 

“Oh, no.” you groaned tiredly as you got up to tend to him “I’m coming, my love.” you whispered even though he clearly couldn’t hear you.

When you opened the door to Din’s bunk you panicked for a second not seeing the baby on his hammock. Instead you found him lying on his back on Din’s bed, his little arms swinging in the air as if he couldn’t get up.

“Oh, kid, what happened?!” you asked as you picked him up and cradled him close to your chest. A second later you stiffened, and if you could facepalm you would: it was pretty obvious, he must have squirmed too much and fallen from his hammock. You were so tired you were starting to lose your coherence.

The kid gripped the front of your shirt with all his might and nuzzled into your collarbone, his crying quieting a little but never stopping. You placed the back of your hand on his forehead.

“You’re still hot.”

You fumbled with the thermometer, almost dropping it in the process and measured his temperature. It was practically the same as the last time you checked. 

“At least it’s not going up.” 

You started walking around the hull bouncing him in your arms, trying to get him to settle down again. You tried shushing him, humming quietly, singing a lullaby. You were so desperate to help him however you could that you even went as far as putting a bucket over your head and impersonating Din to see if that would calm him down.

“I can bring you in warm” you said, your voice forcedly deeper and lower “or I can bring you in cold.”

That makes him blow a quiet tiny giggle between hiccups, but otherwise did not stop his crying.

“I don’t know what to do.” you whimpered, frustrated tears brimming in your eyes “How can I help you?” 

The kid kept on crying for a few more minutes before he stopped all of a sudden. You looked at him quizzically and for a moment you hoped, you prayed that this was it. Before you could even react he gurgled and puked all over the front of your shirt.

“Of course.” you sighed.

That seemed to do it for him, apparently having been woken up by a sore stomach. He instantly quieted down.

“Let’s see if you can keep something else down.” there you went to prepare him more food. Now with a full stomach again you put him down to sleep again, this time directly on Din’s bed so he wouldn’t fall off and hurt himself, and headed to the shower. Again. Then you went to bed. Again.

This went on for two days: every few hours the kid would wake up wailing, you would tend to him and more often than not you would have to get back to the shower. It got to the point where you had no more clean shirts and had resorted to hunting for one of Din’s to wear. His fever was not going down, but at least it wasn’t going up (or that’s what you kept telling yourself). By the beginning of the first afternoon you gave up trying to sleep, running exclusively on caf and willpower (which, to be fair, was dimming every passing moment you stayed awake a little longer). You were practically swaying on your feet. 

You were adamant on not using the stim, too scared of doing more harm than good. Instead you’ve been trying to bring him back to full health with only soup and lukewarm baths and lots of water and rest, but that was not seeming to do the trick.

You briefly considered calling Din on the comm he had, but it was for emergencies only. But wasn’t this an emergency? You were hesitant on calling him and worrying him when he was so far away, or worse, possibly giving away his position in a vulnerable moment. So you resorted to doing this on your own.

The kid had just quieted down in your arms, nuzzling further into your embrace. You let yourself hope for just a moment that he was finally going to get better. After settling him down on Din’s bed, you sat down on your own cot to try and read some manuals on the Razor Crest’s navigation system and hopefully learn how to properly fly the ship just in case. The kid was the quietest he ever was this past couple of days, his nap lasting a lot longer than before. Thank the Maker, you sighed in relief. Even though your eyelids were getting heavier by the second, you forced yourself to stay awake just a while longer. He might need me, you argued, I need to be ready. Just in case this isn’t over, I need to be there for him if he-

You were harshly woken by a piercing scream and the floor vibrating. Disorientated, you checked the chrono and cursed as you realized a few hours had gone by since you put the kid down to sleep. Kriff, I must have dozed off.

Standing up on unsteady feet you felt the whole ship shaking. Reaching for the bunk, you slid the door open to find the kid screaming his little lungs out, his little arms flailing around. He must be the one making the ship move with his powers.

“Hey kid, what’s wrong?” you asked, reaching to check his forehead “Kriff, you’re burning up!”

Grabbing the thermometer, you measured his temperature. It was high, a lot higher than it was before. You silently cursed yourself for falling asleep, having missed when his temperature started to rise.

“Oh, Maker, kid.” your eyes started stinging from unshed tears “I’m so sorry, I should have been taking better care of you, I’m-”

A sob got stuck in your throat. You were absolutely desperate and also so frustrated with your inability to make the kid feel better, what would Din say if he saw you now? This was why he brought you along, one of the reasons he hired you in the first place, what would he think of you if you couldn’t even do your job right? And the kid! He was hurting, that absolutely broke your heart, and there was nothing you could do but hopelessly watch. And you were so very tired.

No.  

You refused to give up yet. The kid needed you. He needed you and you were the only one who could take care of him now.

With newfound determination, you cleaned your face where a few traitorous tears had slipped down your cheeks and grabbed the medkit. You were going to use the stimshot. After retrieving a small blade from Din’s weapon stash and an empty cup, you scooped the baby up in your arms before sitting on the ground in the middle of the hull.

Using the sharp blade, you carved a tiny hole on the tip of the pneumatic dispenser that held the stimulant, just enough to be able to pour most of the liquid inside the cup, without damaging the pumping mechanism. With just a small dose inside the syringe, you held onto the kid and tried raising one of his sleeves.

When he finally caught on to what you were doing, he screamed and cried even more desperately than before, wiggling in your arms trying to get away. All of a sudden white hot stinging pain erupted in your arms, as the kid quite literally tried to claw his way out of your grasp, prompting you to hold him even tighter, while also trying not to hurt him in the process.

“I know, I know, love” you huffed, your voice strained with pain “but this is for your own good.” you ended your sentence and immediately plunged the syringe in his little arm. 

He screamed, your heart breaking for him, but as the medicine was pumped into his bloodstream he slowly calmed down. 

“Okay, this seems to have worked.” you sighed “Let’s check, shall we?”

The thermometer said that his temperature was indeed going down. Waiting a few minutes you checked again and again, realizing it had indeed lowered quite a bit, but had eventually stagnated on a temperature still high enough to be considered a fever.

“I’m going to have to do this again, alright kid?” he cooed in response, his eyes starting to shut from exhaustion “I’m sorry.”

You very carefully poured another small dose back inside the dispenser and administered it in his arm again, him barely squealing. After checking his temperature again just to be sure you realized it had lowered and he was safe again. He settled in your arms, nuzzling into your collarbone, and instantly fell asleep.

With the kid still in your arms, you carefully scooted back to near Din’s bunk, but you had no strength left in you to actually get up and set him in bed. Instead you just slumped against the wall, your head tilted back as you let out a sigh. A sigh turned into two, which turned into small hiccups, which in turn turned into full blown sobbing. Your whole body shook with the intensity of it, tears of frustration and of tiredness steadily falling and accumulating on the back of your hand where you were biting into in order not to let out any sounds that could potentially wake him up.

You looked down at the green child in your arms, his face so peaceful, if only slightly paler than usual, and smiled softly at him. The sight of him no longer distressed was enough to calm you. Without even attempting to clean the tear tracks from your face, you slumped fully into the wall, letting a much overdue slumber overtake you.

Din slowly made his way back to the Crest, almost dragging his feet. Obviously, the man he had sought out to meet had required him to do some maker awful task to, in the end, not even have the information he asked for.

“Jedi are hard to find these days, Mando. Even harder than mandalorians.” he had said, which made Din clench his fists really hard in order not to just beat the guy to a pulp. But that actually made him stop and rethink his actions. 

With the stunt this weirdo just pulled, he realized he couldn’t trust just anyone in the galaxy. No one other than mandalorians. While, yes, mandalorians were hard to come across nowadays, especially after The Great Purge of Mandalore, maybe they could help find a Jedi somewhere, as mandalorians tended to have lots of important connections all over the galaxy (it saddened him to think that he could no longer rely on his Tribe as he didn’t know where most of them were, and it saddened him even more to admit it was his fault they were scattered around).

So, while very tired and desperate for a shower and to hop into bed, he was very eager to get home to you and the kid and tell you all about his new plan, to search for mandalorians. He already had an idea where to start. Wait. Home. Since when had he begun associating the Crest with home? Before it was just ‘the ship’. Now though…

When the ship came to view he sighed in relief and content. While the ramp lowered, however, he started getting a weird feeling in his chest, that something wasn’t quite right. Stepping inside the Crest only made his worry grow: the hull was a mess, it honestly looked like a hurricane had swept over the place and, worst of all, his weapons cabinet was open. And the place was quiet; it wasn’t usually this quiet in the middle of the day with an over energetic kid around.

He unholstered his blaster and carefully walked around looking for you. He didn’t have to search for long: near his bunk, a few steps away from a mess of things (a blade of his, he noted, next to a spilled over cup of a viscous green fluid), you were slumped against the wall, your knees bent close to your chest, slightly falling to one side, with your head hung down.

Din rushed forward and cupped your cheeks, checking you over for any injuries. The first thing he noticed was that the bags under your eyes looked slightly more pronounced, making your face look more hollow. Then he noticed the scratches on your forearms, blood beginning to dry, accompanied by small blisters. His face scrunched up in worry and anger as he wondered what had happened while he was away, while he wasn’t here to protect you. His fussing over you made you stir.

“Hm, Din?” you asked in a small voice, your eyes cracking open to look at him.

“Hey, Cyar’ika.” he almost whispered back “It’s me. Who did this to you?”

“Wha’…?”

“Who did this” he gripped one of your arms carefully “to you?”

“The kid.” 

That made him still completely.

“The kid?”

“He was ill.”

Only then did he notice the small green lump resting between your torso and knees, carefully cradled against your chest, snoring softly. That’s when it clicked. The kid had probably kept you awake and on your feet for a while looking after him. He probably got fussy and accidentally hurt you while you were trying to take care of him.

“Oh, Cyar’ika. When was the last time you had a proper night of sleep?” 

“Dunno.” your words were slurred “Before you left, I guess.”

Even if you couldn’t see it, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come back.”

“He needed me.” you said decisively, before rambling almost self-consciously “You were busy, didn’t wan’ worry you. I-” you sighed and gave up trying to explain “He needed me.”

He felt his heart swell on his chest. You exhausted yourself because you put the kid’s safety and well-being, and his own peace of mind, over your own needs. The love he felt for you only grew even more.

“Come on” he said while sliding an arm under your knees and the other behind your back, your head resting on his chestplate “Let’s get you to bed.”

While he carefully laid you down he took note of your attire, his cheeks warming when he realized you were wearing one of his shirts, sleeves rolled halfway up your injured forearms (what can he say, he found forearms of any kind very attractive).

You rolled in your side, your eyes focusing on your surroundings.

“This isn’t my bed.”

“No,” he said, sweeping a stray strand of hair away from your eyes “it’s mine.”

“But-”

“No buts. Sleep.”

You sighed contentedly, snuggling the kid close to your chest, falling asleep almost instantly.

Din stared at the sight before him, a shy smile hanging on his lips under the helmet: you, curled up on his bunk, holding the kid close. It warmed his chest inside.

Yeah, he thought. He was home.

[itsawhumpsideblog]

Angie Has A Cold

CW: colds and associated symptoms, but nothing major. This is just good old-fashioned sickfic and fluff.

Advice from the Box Boy Liberation Movement:

Although it can be difficult to do, try to find time for yourself. Continue your hobbies if possible and take advantage of opportunities for self care. You still have needs and taking care of yourself is not only a smart choice, but also models good boundaries for rescuees.

Angie had only been away for a long weekend for her sister's wedding, but Tim found that he was looking forward to having her back. Of course, it wasn't that he couldn't handle the work of taking care of the rescuees and they were all perfectly happy to pitch in when they could, anyway. But Tim missed having someone else to talk to who saw the world the way he did, who he could interact with without having to put all his words through what he thought of as "the Pet filter".

When he heard Angie's car pull into the driveway, Tim found himself grinning ear to ear. He went to open the door for her- it was raining hard and she had a suitcase to manage. You needed to pack a lot of things to be a bridesmaid, it turned out.

Tim wasn't a moment too soon and opened the door to find Angie standing there, shifting her heavy suitcase to her left hand so that she could fumble for her key.

"Thanks!" she gasped as she ducked into the safety of the front hall. "Whew. It's really coming down! Would you believe I was dry until I got out of the car just now?"

"I might," Tim said.

"And how are the guys? And you? Did you guys do okay?" She set the suitcase down and wiped wet hair out of her face.

"Yeah, we were fine. We watched a lot of movies. The weather's making everyone feel a little... achy. Not quite themselves, I guess. We're just passing the ibuprofen around the room every few hours and that helps."

"Good." Angie sneezed into the crook of her arm and then straightened up and stretched. "I'll take this upstairs and change into something less... soaked. Be right back!"

She was downstairs in just a few minutes and settled onto the couch in her usual spot to watch the end of their movie before joining Tim in the kitchen to cook dinner.

"Anything in particular sound good to you?" Tim asked, standing in front of the open pantry with his arms crossed. "I didn't get to the store this weekend, so ingredients are a little scarce right now."

"It's fine," Angie assured him. "I'll go tomorrow." She peered at the shelves. "How about soup and sandwiches? We have enough for everyone and it sounds amazing." She shivered and added, "I just can't seem to get warm."

Tim peered at her. "Are you okay? You don't think you're getting sick?"

"Nah, I'm fine. It's just cold out."

Tim accepted the answer, but found himself studying her closely when, later in the evening, she sneezed again and began coughing. She swore that she had swallowed something wrong, but when she went to bed immediately after the rescuees were settled for the night, Tim had his doubts.

Sure enough, the next morning, Angie was nowhere to be seen. Tim helped Francis downstairs, saw the rescuees settled in their usual spots, and made breakfast for all five of them before he began to worry.

"No Angie this morning?" Nathan asked. "Think she's jet lagged?"

"She might be," Tim said doubtfully. "I'll go check on her after breakfast."

They ate and then Tim stood and said, in the most casual voice he could, to hide his worry, "Still no Angie- I guess I'll go knock on her door and make sure everything's okay." He tried to seem unconcerned and ignored the anxious look that Francis and Mikey exchanged.

Tim strolled out of the room, but as soon as he had rounded the corner, he picked up the pace. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, he thought. Then he silently admonished himself for lying. He did know why- it wasn’t that he was afraid something uniquely awful had happened, only that Angie was the one person in the house he could count on to be well and normal. She was always cheerful and energetic, even when she was tired and it would just be so strange if she were to be anything else.

Then, stopping in front of her door, Tim gave himself a mental shake. Angie was not required to perform, he reminded himself. She was allowed to have an off day, too, and he would do whatever she needed. If that was even what was happening.

Tim knocked on the door and Angie's gravelly voice answered. "Come in."

He opened the door a little tentatively to find her still in bed, wrapped up in a blanket and looking thoroughly miserable. A box of tissues sat on her nightstand and some of its contents was now wadded up in and around a wastebasket.

"Morning," Tim said, entering very slowly and picking his way around the tissues to sit lightly on the edge of her bed. "Just came to see how you're doing."

"Not great," Angie admitted. She took another tissue and blew her nose, then leaned back against the pillows with a tired groan. "You were right," she admitted. "I guess I was getting sick."

"Poor you," Tim said sympathetically. He stood, left the room, and returned a moment later with a thermometer. "May I?"

"Go ahead." Angie accepted the thermometer under her tongue and held her head while they waited for it to beep. When it did, she watched him expectantly.

"Yeah, you definitely have a fever. Not bad- not, like, Francis-bad, but it's there."

"I can tell. I'm hot and cold and everything aches." Tim patted her hand and she sniffed and smiled at him.

"Think you can keep some breakfast down if I bring it to you?"

"I can come downstairs," she said, but she didn't look like she meant it and Tim shook his head.

"I'll be right back," he said and it was a sign of exactly how she felt that Angie lay quietly back against her pillows and watched him go.

Downstairs, Tim put some bread in the toaster and checked in with the rescuees. They had looked up in an almost synchronized movement when he came down the stairs and then watched him, waiting for news.

"She's sick, all right," he confirmed. To the nervous look that flashed across Mikey's face, he added, "Nothing too serious. She just has a little feverish cold. We'll take good care of her and she'll be better soon."

"Poor Ma'am," Francis murmured.

"If there's anything we can do to help, we will," Nathan told Tim, and Mikey nodded, ignoring the casts on his hands that would make it hard for him to help anyone. Tim smiled.

"Thanks, guys. I'll pass on the good wishes and start her off with some breakfast."

Angie didn't appear to have moved since Tim left. This was worrying, but he pushed it aside. She was sick; she was allowed to act unlike herself if she needed to. Besides, he noted, she pushed herself up in the bed when he came in and gave him a thin smile. He stayed and kept her company while she drank some of the juice and nibbled at the toast.

"Sorry," she said when she had put the second piece of toast back on the plate half-eaten. "I don't think I can take any more right now."

"That's okay," he replied in his most soothing voice. "You rest and I'll come back up in a little while to see if you need anything and check on your fever."

"My fever will probably be right here waiting for you," Angie said dryly. "But I'll be okay. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

Angie slid down again in the bed, shivering, and smiled as Tim reached over and tucked the comforter around her.

Tim tried not to be exasperated later that morning when Francis asked, for what seemed like the tenth time, "Sir, ought we not to go and see to Ma'am? Francis would be more than willing to sit with her, if she is in need..." he trailed off, unsure.

"I'm pretty sure she's fine," Tim said, also for the tenth time. He looked at the clock and shrugged. "But you know, it has been two hours. I'll go up and just see if she's even awake. Will that make you all feel better?"

Francis wasn't able to answer such a direct question, but Mikey nodded and Nathan grinned sympathetically at Tim. He had memories of being sick in a similar way and was more sure that Angie really would recover without long-term adverse effects.

Tim tried not to sigh as he went upstairs. The questions were only annoying because he was asking himself the same thing, he had to admit. And if he took another perspective, it was really a positive thing that Francis was able to ask repeatedly for something he felt was important. It was progress.

Once again, Tim tapped very lightly at the door. He half hoped Angie wouldn't answer, which would mean she was sleeping.

"Come in." No such luck, and she sounded horribly congested.

As he had suspected, the pile of tissues was noticeably higher. She had also thrown her blankets aside and was clutching a sheet to her chest as she coughed into her elbow.

"At least I got sick after the wedding," Angie managed to say. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand over them. "Sorry. My head hurts."

"And your face is bright red," Tim noted. "Your fever must be up."

"Yeah, probably. It feels worse. I'm all dizzy." Then, illogically, she swung her feet over the side of the bed. "I should get some medicine, though."

"Already brought you some." Tim was anxious to keep her from exerting herself and he held out the pills and a small cup of water.

"You're the best." She took them and laid back with a sigh. "Sorry I'm not more help around the house today. Are the guys okay?"

"They're worried about you," Tim told her. "Francis is almost being annoying about it- not that I really mind, of course. But he got very insistent that I should come check on you."

"Good for him," Angie hummed with a small smile. Tim had known she would understand. Then she sighed. "Tell them I'm fine- more or less- and I'm going back to sleep. If I get bored later, I'll come downstairs."

"I'll leave you alone," Tim agreed. "Want me to come check on you at lunchtime? You should probably try to eat again then, if you can. There's always more toast, or I can make soup. Those are classics for a reason and we have a lot of soup in the backup pantry."

"Ugh," Angie groaned. She held her stomach and looked a little green. "Don't talk to me about food. But thanks."

"Sorry. I'll see you in a few hours." She murmured some inaudible assent and Tim saw himself out.

Tim's report from the sickroom kept the rescuees' anxiety at bay almost until the agreed-upon next visit at lunch. As the hour approached, though, Tim couldn't help noticing Mikey and Francis glancing over at him every few minutes, clearly waiting for him to leave the room.

When Tim stood up, they visibly relaxed and then tensed again as he walked into the kitchen instead of upstairs. Tim, who hadn't done it on purpose, felt guilty at this.

"I'm going to put some soup on," he told them, "and then I'll go look in on her. I know you're worried, but she really will be okay and we all have to eat lunch, after all."

There was no grumbling, of course, but Tim suspected that if they hadn't once been Pets, Francis and Mikey would have protested. Everyone would be fine, Tim reminded himself, and put the soup on to warm before finally heading up the stairs.

This time, he knocked and let himself in without waiting for an answer. Angie was sitting up again, dozing against her pillows, and opened her eyes when she heard him come in.

"Welcome back."

"Thanks, I think. How are you feeling now?"

She shrugged listlessly. "About the same, but bored. Is it lunchtime already?"

"It is. Do you think you could eat something?"

She grimaced but said, "Maybe a little. It doesn't sound great, but I should eat, even if I don't want to."

"That's the spirit."

"Can I come downstairs?" Angie asked, sounding like a child who was prepared to plead for what she wanted.

"If you feel up to it," Tim said. He didn't want to pressure her, but he hoped she would come downstairs. It would help Mikey and Francis relax if they could see her, he was sure.

"Okay, great. Give me one second." Tim turned his gaze slightly aside so that he wasn't staring awkwardly at her as she climbed out of bed and made her way across the room to retrieve a flannel robe that was hung over the back of a chair. She drew it tightly around her and shivered, but headed for the door.

"You need a hand?" Tim asked in the same fake-casual voice he felt like he had been using all day.

Angie’s feverish head felt faint and she was a little unsteady on her feet. She reached one hand out to brace herself on the doorframe and pressed the other hand to her brow.

"I think so," she replied reluctantly. "My poor head's all dizzy, still."

"Well, let's get you downstairs and settled on the couch, then." Tim gave her his arm to lean on and they made their way very slowly down the stairs.

When she entered the room, all three rescuees- even Nathan, who had not been so nervous- brightened up.

"Hi guys," Angie croaked and made sure to smile at them. Mikey beamed at her and Francis smiled warmly. They both looked happy to see her and more relaxed than they had been yet that day.

"Come sit down," Nathan said in a concerned voice, gesturing to the other end of the couch. "You look like you're gonna fall over."

"I'll be okay," Angie assured him, but she kept a hold on Tim's arm and let him help her across the room. She tucked her feet under her as she eased herself down onto the couch and leaned back with a light sigh.

"I'll get everyone lunch," Tim said, not that anyone was listening, and bustled off.

"Francis is very sorry that you're ill, Ma'am," Francis said in a shy voice. "He hopes you are not suffering very much."

"Nah, it's not that bad." She made the effort to smile. "Just... not quite myself today, that's all. It happens."

Tim returned with bowls of soup for Nathan and Francis and then set up a tray in front of Angie. She found that she didn't have much stomach for food and stopped after a few spoonfuls until she felt something brush her leg.

When she looked down, it was Mikey, touching her knee lightly to get her attention. She smiled wanly at him but he looked concerned. He reached up with his heavily bandaged right hand and tapped his mouth, telling her that she should eat.

Angie almost explained that she didn't want to, but then she took another look at Mikey's wide, earnest eyes and he tapped his mouth more insistently, then gestured clumsily at her bowl.

"Okay, I'll have some more," she agreed. "You're right. It'll be good for me." For his sake, she finished most of the bowl, although the meal was heavy in her belly and made her a little sick. Mikey and Francis- and Tim, she noticed- looked satisfied, which mostly made it worth it.

After lunch, Angie sat shivering on the couch while Tim cleared away the dishes. When he returned, he was carrying the thermometer.

"Time for another temperature check," he announced cheerfully, and stuck it under her tongue.

Angie's fever had apparently become a spectator sport, and she wasn't too sick to feel awkward with all four of them watching her as the number on the thermometer climbed.

"101.7," Tim announced. "And time for the patient to take her medicine."

"Francis would like to help," Francis said. He looked nervously from Angie to Tim and clasped his hands, which were shaking slightly. It made him nervous to speak up like that, but he was desperate to do something for poor Ma'am, who had so often comforted him when he was ill.

"Sure," Tim said, putting on his casual voice again so that Francis would know he was welcome to express himself freely. "I bet Angie would appreciate that. Right?"

"Sure," she agreed. "Thank you, Francis."

Tim got the bottle of medicine and helped Francis cross the room to sit in a chair next to Angie.

"Sir, could you please bring a cool washcloth?" Francis asked. "For Ma'am," he hastened to add.

Angie almost couldn't believe the sudden change in Francis, who had actually managed to communicate an intention and was now very nearly taking charge of something. He had even made a direct request of Tim. She realized why and her heart was so full that she almost cried. The slight red tint around Tim's eyes when he returned from the kitchen suggested that he had cried. Francis, who couldn't even refer to himself in first person, had asserted himself for Angie's sake.

She knew she would be thinking about the implications of that for a long time, but for now she tried to remain in the present.

Francis poured Angie's medicine into a spoon and held it out. At first, she started to raise her hand to take it, and then realized he was holding it towards her mouth. She tried not to smile as she let him administer it to her, just the way he fed Mikey when it was his turn to do so.

When the spoon was empty, Francis lay it neatly down on a napkin and took up the damp washcloth, folding it into a long rectangle. He leaned towards Angie and pressed it to her brow.

"This is an excellent thing to do when you are feverish," he said, looking very gentle and solemn. She wondered if he knew a cold washcloth was an ordinary fever treatment, or if he thought it was something special that only Tim knew about. "Francis found it very beneficial when he had a fever." He held the cloth in place for her, as if she was too feeble to do it herself, and Angie remembered how many hours Tim had sat with Francis just like this.

"Thanks, Francis," Angie said. "It does feel good."

"Francis is very sorry to see Ma'am so poorly," he replied in that same caring tone. "He hopes you will be much better soon."

Angie smiled around the room. "With all of you to take care of me, I know I will."

Next

Master List

Notes: I've got so many ideas for the Safehouse characters, but some of them fall outside of any specific spot on the timeline. Also, to be honest, I don't want to have to worry about the passage of time for every story I do in that series. So, while I'm definitely going to continue doing longer plot arcs, those plot arcs won't always have to follow one after the other. I'm also going to start letting myself just do standalone stories or short arcs like this one. Enjoy!

Tag list: @pigeonwhumps, @cepheusgalaxy, @i-eat-worlds, @honeycollectswhump @taterswhump,

@starfields08000 @whumpsday, @fruitypinapple00, @currentlyinthesprial

[rederiswrites]

Yesterday I

Finished cleaning the chicken coop

weeded around every plant in the field garden! Got multiple thorn splinters from the fucking spiny pigweed.

spread spoiled hay around the raspberry plants

started tidying the back deck (look I realize this sounds like something that Can Wait but I have to at least have all the plants in one place and nothing holding rainwater)

created a list of "pantry items" to keep six people happy between meals at a reasonable value. (There's a store on-site with some food but it's not exactly a place to buy dried apricots, larabars, rice crackers, or three pounds of walnuts.)

created a plan for three, possibly four, meals for the whole camp (I do bibimbap night, Indian--usually meat curry, chickpea or egg curry, a veggie, and rice--and this year, due to an abundance of chicken, chicken soup)

went to the grocery store

started created a camp chore chart (the camp is half teenagers. They're happy to help but don't always know how)

pulled beads

made beads

made half a dozen trips down to the basement to haul stuff up for packing, like dresser drawers and chests full of dishes

Washed three loads of laundry, put away two

Normally I'd call it a good day at a third of that and spend the rest of the day playing Baldur's Gate or taking a fucking nap or something.

My extra kids arrive today. We'll hopefully finish packing tomorrow so we can leave early in the morning on Sunday. Then the five hour drive, then hopefully arriving with several hours of daylight so we can set up our tents and unload at the other end. Jacob is also still trying to actually make shop stock and finish projects while packing, and we've both got janky hips. It's fun! It's fun.

[bookofbolden]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Generic Store PARTIES: Syd ( @felinefrenzies ) & Eleanor SUMMARY: While grocery shopping Eleanor runs into Syd who is in the middle of an intense battle with the beast within. WARNINGS: None!

Groceries. It was a necessary evil that Eleanor had had the pleasure of forgetting about while she’d lived with her sister. She simply wrote on the chalkboard door of the pantry what she needed from the store and it appeared almost like magic. Now she had to get all of her things together, including her long list, and trudge to the store herself. Not that she could really complain, she didn’t want to be in the apartment for too much longer than absolutely necessary, it had been left a mess and somehow seemed even more so after her return.

Almost immediately after she’d walked into The Generic Store the cashier gave off some mildly irritated vibes but Eleanor could understand, she wouldn’t have wanted to be at work and miss out on whatever else was going on outside of the store, either. She smiled at the worker and continued on her way to the groceries as she took out her list. Only a few other people roamed the aisles and they were all either extremely calm or just a little bit anxious as they made sure they had gotten everything they’d come for. Because of the lack of strong emotions within the vicinity, the feeling of dread and distress was as noticeable to her as if the person had announced that they were feeling it.

Eleanor looked over her shoulder and offered a kind smile in hopes of calming the stranger. “Hello, I’m not in your way, am I?”

Syd leaned against the cereal aisle, gaze fixated on the stupid off brand Tony the Tiger. Their vision blurred ever so slightly, off brand Tony dancing in the corner of their eye as they looked away, as if mocking them. From one cat to another, it sang. Syd clenched their teeth and tried to focus on the ring of their heart in their ears, of the way it sounded, a rhythmic beat to the discussion and footfalls of shoppers in and around the store. They’d been through this time and time again, and they could do it again. There were faces they knew here, and they couldn’t risk the chance of shedding their skin, of hurting the very woman who had handed them their diploma several years back. 

They’d been so focused on controlling the shift, from keeping it at bay that they hadn’t noticed somebody was next to them now. Concern echoed in their voice and Syd tore their eyes away from a neighboring box of low sugar off brand Toucan– what the fuck was that bird’s name?  Their company stood only a few feet away, and the warnings that fell at the back of Syd’s throat were swallowed by the anxiety of possibly creating shreds out of the person in front of them. “No,” Syd stammered, tightening their grip on the shelf. The jaguar hummed, circling them as if prey. “Sorry, I’m–” They let out a soft laugh that came out as a hiss, unfurling into something of a growl. Quickly, Syd covered it up by coughing into their arm. “I think I left the house before the flu left me.” They gave a half-assed smile, tongue moving against teeth, against cheek– anything to keep them rooted. “Did you need…” They looked at the aisle they were in again, then to off brand Tony. “This?” 

Eleanor could tell that something awful brewed just below the surface but she didn’t want to call too much attention to it. Some people preferred to pretend that nothing was going on even if they were going through some of the worst moments of their life. “No need to apologize, I’m sorry that you’re not feeling well. I can bet that it must be miserable being sick in this weather. Have you been getting enough fluids? Have you tried chicken noodle soup? Whenever I haven’t been feeling my best I typically give it about a week and then if things aren’t getting better I go to the doctor.” She knew that she’d started to ramble so she stopped herself. “Not that you asked for any of my advice. I’m sorry, you're an adult, you know how to take care of yourself.” She blushed, but she had genuinely just wanted to offer some kind of help because it was obvious between the stuttering and the swirling dark cloud of emotions within them that things weren’t going well.

Although Eleanor hadn’t been in the market for the off brand cereal she nodded and took it anyhow, adding it to the small selection of items in her basket. “Sure, I appreciate it.” She looked them over one more time then turned as though she were going to leave. She’d gotten halfway down the aisle before she turned and went back, her heart unable to allow her to simply walk away. “I’m sorry, and please tell me to buzz off if I’m prying, but you don’t seem well. Is there anything I can do, someone I can call for you? You shouldn't be out if you’re feeling this terribly - what are you shopping for? I can grab it for you so you don’t have to be on your feet for too long.”

Most people would move on after being advised that the person they were speaking to had the flu, but the girl ahead of her stayed put, concern pulling over her features. Frustration flickered brightly at the center of Syd’s chest. They wanted to tell her to leave, that they didn’t need the suggestions. Because that much was true, they didn’t. They could take care of themself. The sound of the front door opening, a bell ringing– the till, the count of change, the exchanging of thank you’s, it hit Syd from every side. It was hard to ignore. On top of it all, the smiling brunette had the audacity to be kind. The longer Syd stood there, the more their irritation grew, and they felt horrible for directing it at somebody who was only trying to help. “Chicken noodle soup, no. Pozole.” Through clenched teeth, Syd continued, “you should try it sometime.” Maybe the brunette already had. It was easier to focus on the comfort of a warm meal than it was to focus on the tiles beneath their feet and how it might feel to press their face against them. They’d be cool to the touch, they were sure, and maybe it’d soothe the sweat that had begun to break out at the back of their neck. 

“S’okay,” Syd coughed out again, attempting to hide a pained whimper as the jaguar tugged at the corners of their mind, as if luring them inward in order to take total and complete control. “Appreciate it all the same, actually.” It was harder to speak now than it had been previously, and that wasn’t good. They knew that. Syd moved to the side slightly as the brunette reached for the box of cereal. A blur of colors danced in the corner of their vision as they kept their eyes on the shelf’s price display. They traced each number carefully, one breath in, one breath out. She was retreating, and Syd felt some minor relief that maybe she would leave the store before the jaguar split the seams of the individual standing there. Syd hoped so. Nobody that kind should be mauled in a grocery outlet. The footfalls stopped, and Syd let out a huff, ready to explain that yes, she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, all for the sake of ridding a victim from a soon to be crime scene. But instead, Syd refocused, staring at the toucan on the stupid cereal box. They memorized the colors, thought of them on human skin, the thrum of the tattoo gun in their hand. Grounding techniques, that was what their father had called them. Important, to beings like them. “Call? No, nobody to call.” Their parents were in Arizona, and it wasn’t like Meredith needed to be bothered, they were only just now reconnecting. “You’re really fucking nice and all, but look, I don’t– I would have asked for your help if I needed it, alright?” Frustration plucked at Syd’s vocal cords and their voice broke slightly at the end of the sentence. Agitation burrowed itself, dragging away the kindness that Syd had been born with. “Fuck, sorry, I just– it’s so fucking loud in here, right? So fucking loud.” 

There was a flash of frustration and Eleanor took another miniscule step back. Had she said something unkind, out of line? She didn’t think so, but not everyone received unsolicited advice well, perhaps that had been the other’s breaking point. She was sure that if she’d felt awful out in public and someone came along yapping about soup and doctors then surely she too would become irritated. But this was different, it had to be, it couldn’t have all been aimed at herself - the irritation, fear, anger… it was all too much to have occurred during their brief exchange of words. But still, they offered up another bit of conversation and she took it because she didn’t know what else to do in such a situation. “I have! It’s very good, one of my best friends makes it.” But her words sounded forced, scared. What could have caused such a storm within them? It wasn’t her place to get to the bottom of it, she needed to learn where to draw the line, but she also wouldn’t have forgiven herself if she were to just walk away and leave them in such a state.

Their response was exactly what Eleanor had expected so it didn’t hurt her feelings when they lashed out, she simply nodded and smiled sadly. Hadn’t she always done the same thing? Lashing out was a whole hell of a lot easier than trying to explain whatever was going on inside of her mind so no, she hadn’t been offended. But it did still worry her. “No need to apologize, I was just offering it. Whenever I see someone who might need a helping hand I offer, but you by no means have to accept it, I understand that you’re wanting your space.” She let out a breath and brought her palm to her forehead as though checking for a fever. The intensity of their emotions had started to create a headache. “Yes, it’s very loud in here, I agree. I hope that I’m not coming down with something myself.” Although the volume she was complaining about happened to be on a different wavelength, one she was sure they were unable to hear. “I’m Eleanor. I don’t think I’m supposed to give out my name freely, but I want you to know who I am just in case… you ever need anything? Whatever’s going on, flu or otherwise, it’ll all pass. I’m sure your family and friends would be more than willing to listen to anything you have to say about what might be going on, and if not then… I don’t know. I’m here, too. I’m no therapist, I don’t claim to be one, but I’m really good at listening despite my habit of always talking.” She didn’t want to leave, as much as being around them pained her, so she went further down the aisle as she had before but stopped to pretend to be very interested in the loaves of bread on the shelf.

It was at inopportune times like these that the jaguar had wanted to come out, desire to be freed from its vessel trumping any reason that Syd tried to make. The last thing they wanted to do was hurt anybody, and they knew that leaving sooner rather than later was probably their best bet at doing little to no harm. But it was hard to move– to put one foot in front of the other. They could barely focus on each and every breath that filled their lungs, a labor in its own right– defying the very spirit that lived within them, coaxing Syd to release any and all control. Their grip on the shelf tightened, and they leaned into it gently, careful to not put their full weight as they didn’t want tons of cereal boxes to come crashing down. It didn’t seem like the brunette was hurt by her words, which was a surprise in itself. Instead, it looked like she understood the aggression, tucking it away for further investigation. 

Syd tried their best to focus on her words, to allow them to carry them further from the tightening in their chest. It felt odd, being talked down so gently after misplaced cruelty stained their words. “No, it’s–” Another sharp inhale, another clench of the jaw. “Ah, fuck. Hope not. Sure it’s going around town, though.” Syd wasn’t actually sick with anything, so maybe the girl– now named Eleanor, was using empathy as a means to distract them. “Don’t worry, not gonna use your name against you. I don’t even use Facebook. Plus, I’m sure there’s loads of other Eleanors in town.” It hadn’t occurred to them that there was a deeper seated meaning to her words, but it was hard to focus on that. “You talk like a therapist. Not that it’s a bad thing.” The words came out raspy, a hollowed out version of Syd’s typical cadence. “Never been to a shrink, though.” Never had to, before now. Were there such things as balam shrinks? Would they be able to tap into the jaguar and coax a level of understanding? Maybe they should look into that. “My name is Syd.” If they focused on the conversation, then maybe it would pass. They could feel the feverish warmth at the back of their neck beginning to subside, a sign that perhaps the jaguar was relenting. “You do this a lot?” Syd asked after a moment of listening to the other noises from within the store, “talk people down who have the flu in the cereal aisle, I mean.” 

The comment about Facebook confused Eleanor for a moment and she wondered if they even understood what she had meant by the layered comment. Perhaps they really were sick and it wasn’t anything supernatural… that would be strange simply because it wasn’t strange. Everything that happened in this town had to be weird, right? It was the law or something. It just wasn’t feasible to Eleanor that this person was plainly sick with the common flu. She shrugged one shoulder and attempted a chuckle. “I’ve been to plenty of therapists, I know their lingo. Going to one isn’t a bad thing, it’s not admitting weakness or anything like that, sometimes you just need someone to talk to you, someone who doesn’t know a thing about you and can give everything a glance from the outside - it’s really helped me.” How they had moved from the subject of possibly catching a virus to her trying to coax them into therapy she wasn’t sure, but as long as they spoke with her the more she would continue as well. It seemed to work as a distraction, keeping them from completely toppling over.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Syd. Lovely name.” Eleanor wondered if it was short for Sydney but then decided that it was none of her business. Syd, as they had introduced themself, was all she needed to know. At their question she truly laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I'm laughing because… no, no I don’t talk people down from the flu in the cereal aisle often. But I give myself damn good pep talks in the bathroom mirror so I’m using all of my skills I’ve learned by doing that - is it working? Because if it is then I need to give myself a raise.” There was a gradual shift in the atmosphere that indicated that perhaps they had started to feel a tad bit better and Eleanor took that as a sign that she was doing well. It felt good to be the one to help someone else for a change. “What brought you out to the store with the flu, Syd? All of the DoorDashers busy?”

Syd snorted. When leaving the campsite today, they hadn’t anticipated a minor panic attack in the cereal aisle of a store they had gone to since they were a child. Syd was positive that if their parents had service, Glenn, the manager of the place, would be calling them erratically asking what had gotten into Syd. Everyone knew each other here, it seemed. Except Syd knew that Wicked’s Rest wasn’t really that small of a place– it just so happened that they were a creature of habit, frequenting the same places that their parents had. 

“You should be a marketer for them.” Syd took another deep breath, gaze flashing up to the ceiling to seek out the patterns of the tiles above their heads. “Maybe I’ll look into it one day.” If balam therapists were a thing, they’d jump at the chance, no questions asked. They didn’t think they’d get that lucky. Maybe they’d have to find somebody else– a zombie therapist who understood what it was like to no longer be in control. There was a degree of separation, but Syd felt as though that was their best bet. “I’m glad it’s helped you, though. You seem to know what you’re talking about.” Eleanor’s voice was helping keep Syd’s mind off of the thrashing in their mind. It was a constant tug-o-war, keeping the jaguar at bay, silently pleading with it to give them a moment within their own body. 

Then again, like Syd normally did, Eleanor could be talking out of her ass. Syd, however, was incapable of dissecting the true meaning of the other’s words. “Ah, shit. No, you’re totally laughing at me. ‘S alright, I get it. I’m sick in the cereal aisle.” Not sick, but plagued with the spirit of something they should have been able to harmonize with. Syd finally tore their gaze from the ceiling. It landed back on Eleanor and they let out a laugh of their own, however it sounded congested and strained, as if being peeled from their lungs. “You should ask for a raise, deffo.” They gave a curt nod, pushing away from the shelf slightly, grip loosening. “I can be my own DoorDasher, y’know?” Their reasoning for why they looked violently ill was slipping. Realistically, nobody should go out when they were sick. Syd looked like they didn’t care about those around them, and they didn’t like that, but it was too late to fall back on the excuse now. “Thought it was over, then it fucked me up again is all. You know, false hope.” For somebody who engaged in therapeutic discussions, surely Eleanor wouldn’t be able to argue the topic of false hope. “Hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you deserve a gold star. Not many people’d take a look at someone hunched against a shelf and ask if they were okay.” Syd’s voice was still strained, but the cloud of agitation was dissipating. 

It was Eleanor’s turn to scoff. “Perhaps if the whole writing thing doesn’t work out then I’ll definitely either become a therapist or a marketer for them. Maybe BetterHelp can sponsor my upcoming book.” She joked, glad to have gotten some amusement out of them. She shrugged and fiddled with the basket in her hands. “I just know how to sound like I know what I’m talking about. It’s a skill, really, one that I inherited from someone in the past.” One of her past foster fathers had been one of the best bullshitters she’d ever met in her life - she’d learned from him how to boost herself up in the best way possible but she only used it whenever necessary. She noticed that Syd had started to take deep breaths which was a good sign, it meant that they had at least started the process of calming down.

Eleanor bit her lip to keep from laughing again. “I swear that I’m not laughing at you but you have to admit that this kind of interaction isn’t necessarily… normal. Did you wake up planning to speak with a stranger next to colorful boxes of cereal because she refused to leave you alone while you were sick? I’m self aware enough to know that I’m a little annoying but, I don’t know, I think sometimes it pays off.” The gold star comment made another giggle rise out of her. She liked Syd, even if they did seem like they were going through a lot more than they were willing to disclose. She probably wouldn't have been comfortable laying everything out on the table, either. But she could tell from the emotions that flowed from them that a lot more was going on with them whether they’d admit it or not. “I’m a sucker for gold stars, the other kids in my class used to hate me because I’d do everything I could to get one added to my chart every day. I was that kid.” She allowed her smile to fade just a tad so that she looked more serious. “Are you sure you’re alright? I’ve asked that a million times but please, if there’s truly anything I can do let me know. Maybe I could help you out of this stupid aisle? I’m sure that tiger staring at you isn’t helping.”

“Yeah, who knows. Maybe they’ll jump at the chance.” Syd grimaced, knowing well enough that continuing to talk through things like it was all fine probably would have turned out not fine, and leaving was definitely the smarter thing to do, but Eleanor’s kindness was hard to turn down. “A book though, really? Yeah, I guess that tracks. You look like a writer.” In a way that books wrote about writers, but Syd wasn’t sure that Eleanor would take that as a compliment. Syd definitely meant it as one. Not that they read a whole lot, but still. “Oh, so you’re bullshitting me? Does therapy even really work?” They steeled themselves, knowing the joke probably didn’t hit the way they wanted it to given the fact that they were trying not to fall apart. “That was a joke.” Maybe that would help. 

“I think that I plan on that every day. It’s what keeps me going.” Syd tilted their head back, letting out another breath, pushing the jaguar out from the corners of their mind. It was still circling, a constant thing, claws ripping into her psyche, but she could handle it. Could coax it into submission, at least for the time being. Without really knowing if it was the death of Callum or the abnormality that had done this to her, she had no way of fixing it, but taking deep breaths did help, and so did having somebody to talk to about it, even if it wasn’t necessarily the truth, and instead just a simple distraction or two. As Eleanor went on to explain that she gained the most gold stars out of any other kid in her grade, Syd nodded. “Yeah, that also fucking tracks. You look like one of those kids who’d put it in a whole ass sticker book or something. It’s probably in a box somewhere, right?” Eleanor was making it easy to make fun of her, and Syd felt a little bad. “That was another joke, by the way, even if it’s kind of true?” They leaned away from the shelf finally, realigning their gaze with Eleanor’s, no longer tracing out the patterns of the ceiling. “The flu is a bitch, what can I say?” Syd wore a lopsided smile that looked more like a grimace, so she tried a little harder, pushing it to reach her eyes. “The tiger can’t do shit to me, but uh, I really– seriously, thanks for hanging out while I go through the ten stages of what the fuck is happening.” 

Although some might not have taken it as a compliment Eleanor was thrilled to hear that she “looked like a writer”. She had always been able to point out an author in any crowd simply by the way they dressed and handled themself and she wanted to give herself a pat on the back for being able to emulate such a presence. “I’ve spent years trying to perfect my wardrobe and even my hair - I think the new bangs are what really ties the whole look together. It’s even more evident whenever I wear my glasses - I see that as a compliment whenever someone is able to guess that I write for a living. What do you do, if I may ask?” She wanted to continue the conversation because it seemed that she and Syd had finally gotten to a place of friendliness. “Oh, it definitely works, I can assure you of that. I would be absolutely falling apart at the seams if not for my therapist. But I know a joke when I hear it.” She winked at them.

“Well in that case I need to start planning very strange and specific things to do in my day. This has been nice, getting to meet a lovely new person.” Eleanor liked Syd a lot and she hoped that maybe if they were to run into one another at a different time that it would be under better circumstances. She blushed but nodded to answer the other’s question. “Actually… I believe it’s in a box in my parents’ home. My mother is very sentimental about things like that. She wants to bring out all of my book reports and essays anytime someone speaks about my books - she wants the world to know how young I began writing but I find it a bit embarrassing.” She subconsciously mimicked Syd and took a deep breath, happy to see them finally standing up straight and making eye contact. “Talking is what I do best! I’m always happy whenever someone’s around who I can yap to so thank you for making my day better. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have met under better circumstances, maybe we’ll run into one another soon enough and we can have an actual conversation. I promise that I won’t completely talk your ear off, I’ll listen to any and everything you have to say since you’ve allowed me to get carried away this time.”

Syd couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as Eleanor went on to explain that she purposely dressed as a writer, hoping others would deduce as such. Yeah, maybe that was important– being proud of whatever you did. When Syd worked at the tattoo shop, it’d been a lot more obvious what they did for a living, but now that that was behind them, nobody ever really pointed at them and said campsite manager. Not unless they knew them from before, at least. “I run the three pines with my parents.” This time, as they spoke, it wasn’t said through gritted teeth. That was good, at least– a change in direction, a chance that the jaguar was beginning to settle down. They let out another chuckle, this time more strained, as Eleanor reassured them that therapy did in fact work. “Alright, you’ve got me. You therapized me here, I’m a believer now.” Not quite, but on the fringes of it. Eleanor had in fact helped them calm down considerably. 

Lovely was a stretch, but Syd made no move to correct her. Maybe in another life, they would’ve been lovely to meet, all toothy grins and an arm wrapped around her shoulder as they showed her to the seat where she’d get her first tattoo, because they definitely wouldn’t have met in the cereal aisle where Syd was having a meltdown. No way. That was definitely not the way Syd liked to meet people, nor the way they liked to leave a lasting impression. “Of fucking course you do.” This time it was a snort instead of a chuckle. “Cute, though. Sounds like a good mom.” Their mom was the same. Even if the first time they’d come home with a tattoo, they’d nearly been disowned. Over time, they accepted that the art Syd created wasn’t meant for a sketchbook, and rather for their skin, and that of their peers. “I feel like that should be the case, though. Pretty fucking important, to be proud of something like that. Not everyone just writes a book.” That wasn’t necessarily true, so Syd amended, “or is good at it.” They didn’t know if Eleanor’s books were good or not, but they made a mental note to at least find it on audio book. “Nah, you’re– you did more than enough.” Eleanor didn’t need to stop at all, and Syd was grateful she did, even if annoyance had transcended that feeling entirely during their first moments. “But uh, I’m good– flu is hitting the road or whatever.” 

The jaguar was still antagonistic, and it’d be good to go home and avoid any more uphill battles. “Not every day somebody stops and talks to somebody who’s bitching at them for being too loud.” Not that Syd had been yelling at Eleanor specifically, but it could’ve come across as that. “I appreciate you though, for real. Uh, keep… being a therapist to people in the streets. Or don’t, maybe not– maybe a bad idea.” Especially here. “Maybe only do it in public places?” They let out another short laugh. 

Laughter was a good sign and Eleanor once again gave herself a pat on the back for the progress Syd had made. She hadn’t been entirely sure that any of her efforts would affect them at all so to see such a change made her happy. “That sounds wonderful, I’m guessing you’re outside a lot? That’s the perfect time to just let loose and take a couple deep breaths in case you’re ever needing to calm yourself. It worked for me although I’m sure my neighbors believed me to be completely off my rocker after that time I went out into the rain to do some deep breathing. It couldn’t wait, I needed to do it then and there.” She wasn’t sure if Syd meant what they said about her convincing them that therapy worked, but since she’d accomplished her goal of calming them down that was all that mattered to her. “Good. I’m glad that I could be of assistance.”

Syd’s words encouraged Eleanor. She knew what a difficult road it was to write books, much less books that were welcomed with open arms by the public and did well, so it was nice to have some recognition. “I’m obviously not the best but my books do well enough for me to live off of what I make from them, that’s a huge deal in the writing community. I don’t like to sound like I’m bragging though, no one likes someone who talks about themself during the entire conversation, so back to you: I’m glad that you’re feeling better. I’m sure the flu probably just got annoyed with me and decided to abandon ship. It was my pleasure being able to be your makeshift therapist for a little while, but I certainly don’t think that I’ll be doing it too often. I got lucky running into someone who didn’t try to fight me or something because I was only trying to help. I hope you have a lovely rest of your day, you should definitely go home and rest so that you don't get sick again.” She shifted awkwardly onto the balls of her feet because she was unsure how to end the conversation. “Goodbye Syd, hopefully we’ll run into each other again when you’re feeling better.” She offered them one last smile then finally turned and actually continued on down the aisle to continue her shopping.

[bangtansmauyeondan]

THIRTY-FIVE | S04 E01 - First of Many

Pairing: In-Studio Director!Jungkook x Stage Director!Fem Reader

Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of abandonment, alcohol consumption, harmless scheming, dare, bet, smut

Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same network broadcasting company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision but here you are… and you have until 35.

SERIES TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @babyboo22 @dionysusenthusiast @luaspersona @timelessruins @royallyjjk @sandraviolante-blog @quarter-life-crisis2 @jub-jub @pb-n-juju @jeonxgoogiee @sugaluvmyg @lookformyvoice @fairy-jaykay @juju-227592 @such-a-wh0re @hoseoksluv89 @exhibitachol @kleirielk @era-genius @hyuneyeon @jjkw-7

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @jinsquishes @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @taestefully-in-luv @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @pinkseokchim @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111

•••

You hate Jungkook. You hate him with every ounce of your being. You’re still fuming as you dumped a whole pot of miyeokguk down the food disposal, ignoring your boyfriend’s protests.

“YN, what— I— why did you throw it out? It’s not that bad, I swear, it—“

“It’s not THAT bad?!” You scoffed. You couldn’t hold back your outburst. You were exhausted. You’ve been working on a new project with Hoseok and have not been getting enough sleep. You’ve been trying to keep up with the workload since your bestfriend Byul, Jimin’s wife, has just given birth and would be on a month-long maternity leave.

Jungkook has been staying over a lot, especially on the weekends, and has been quite helpful with keeping your head above water, occasionally lending a hand on your ongoing projects too. It’s been three months since you officially became a couple, and considering how fresh your relationship is, you should still be at the honeymoon phase— disgustingly sweet and inseparable. But nope… not today. Today, he’s the most annoying person in the universe.

You heard about Byul’s good news through Jimin the night before when he asked you for a small and sweet favour: “Can you make miyeokguk for Byul? It’s just that our parents' flights got cancelled because of the storm, and I couldn’t leave her alone at the hospital.”

He didn’t need to ask twice. You sprung into action early the next morning to run to your local groceries to pick-up the ingredients. All you needed were dried seaweed and beef,and the rest were available in your pantry. Easy-peasy! The only problem is that you’re not quite talented when it comes to the kitchen. Whatever, it’s only seaweed soup, what could go wrong? Well apparently, something major could go wrong as solidified by Jungkook’s reaction.

“No, it’s just that, you must have missed some steps… did you– did you soak the seaweed first before you add it to the pot?” Jungkook asked. He had been in the kitchen with you, working on his computer on the kitchen island, but he couldn’t recall the exact steps or recipe that you followed… if you even followed one, that is.

“Soak? No, babe, I stir-fried it directly along with the meat and aromatics… then I added the water. Do I need to soak them?” You sagged your shoulders and started walking to the refrigerator to take out more ingredients. “Now I gotta start all over again,” you muttered under your breath.

“Okay, I know it’s seaweed, but it’s a little bit on the saltier side. The kosher salt is in the other cupboard,” Jungkook opened the cupboard adjacent to the stove. “Did you use the pink–”

“Yes, I used the himalayan salt!” You slammed the chopping board and the knife on the counter, clearly having zero idea that the fancy pink salt you grabbed from the grocery store, thinking it’s cute, is a lot saltier and sharper than the regular kosher salt. “God! What do you want, Jungkook!? You’re so annoying!”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise at your outburst. “Me?” He just stood there, staring at you, tonguing the silver hoop on his lip.

“You know what, forget it…” You huffed. “I’m gonna go rest for a bit, we’ll figure something out by lunch time.”

•••

•••

Jimin and Byul have created a small and beautiful baby boy, face smooshed by his little fists, and plump lips – taken after his father – formed into a natural pout. His eyes were open, blinking as if he could make out his surroundings. Whatever ounce of annoyance you were feeling earlier about the seaweed soup incident has completely diminished when you laid your eyes on the newborn baby.

“He’s beautiful…” You cooed. “Can he see me?” You tried making faces at the little one, earning a laugh from the couple.

“He can’t see yet, YN,” Jimin replied. “But the doctors said he can hear us, so you might as well talk to him and get him used to your voice.”

Your eyes lit up at the new information and immediately crouched down closer, your face inches away from the baby. “Hi, pumpkin…” You started in your softest voice. “I’m your godmother.”

“Where’s Jungkook?” Byul asked.

“Oh, he went to the Nurses Station to ask about your meal plan and if it’s okay for you to have the miyeokguk for lunch,” you smiled. “Um, I’m sor–”

Your words were cut off when Jungkook entered the room, aided by one of the nurses. His hands were occupied by a tray of food– the steaming hot bowl of miyeokguk, thanks to the portable thermos you brought, some biscuits and a selection of cut-up fruits. “Lunch is ready, Mrs. Park!” Your boyfriend beamed at Byul before handing over the tray to Jimin.

“Oh god, that smells heavenly! I’m salivating,” Byul commented. “I didn’t know I was starving til I got a good whiff of the food.”

Jimin carefully spooned the soup, letting it sit on the spoon for a while until cool enough, and started feeding his wife.

“Oh my god,” Byul suddenly started welling up. “Oh god, you guys…”

Jimin was quick to wipe the tears on the corner of his wife’s eyes. “Why? Is it too hot?”

“Oh no, is it bad?” Your eyes met Jungkook’s and he assured you with a simple nod.

“No, are you kidding me? This soup is so good. It makes me miss my mom.” Byul sniffed. “Thank you so much for making me this soup, YN…”

“Oh no, Byul, actually I–”

“YN woke up real early to make that,” Jungkook wrapped his arm around you and gave your shoulder a telling squeeze. “Good, right?”

“I didn’t want Jimin to ask you to make this ‘cause I know you’re busy, but thank you so much, hun…” Byul looked at you, eyes still damp with traces of tears.

You smiled warmly back at her before searching for Jungkook’s eyes. You found him already looking at you, and at that moment you decided to step closer and leaned over his side. What would you do without him?

•••

Jungkook climbed up on the driver’s seat after securing the lunchbox and some of the couple's laundry, which you offered to take, in the backseat of the car. You’re already seated, buckled up in the passenger’s seat, playing on an invisible fluff on your jeans. Jungkook studied your face for a while before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. "You alright?" You nodded without looking up, a hint of embarrassment apparent on your features.

“I'm sorry for being an ass earlier,” you pulled your lips into a straight line before meeting his eyes. He chuckled, nose scrunching up in amusement. "I'm serious."

"I know, I know..." He straightened up in his seat and began starting the ignition, “You buckled up?” You hummed.

"Thank you for making the soup for Byul," you said softly.

Jungkook glanced at you before taking your hand in his, intertwining your fingers, and bringing it to his lips. He didn't say a word after resting your clasped hands on his thigh and just focused on the drive home, occasionally glancing your way.

It's the kind of quiet that you both like. The kind of quiet that allows you to be left alone with your own thoughts, and still be at ease with the fact that the other is close by. It's the kind of quiet that tells you more than words could ever say - maturity, security, respect, and love. They're all there, hanging in the air between you. You realize that you're no longer two naive college students trying to outsmart each other while suppressing the fluttering of the butterflies in your stomachs when the other is near. You’re two wise-beyond-their-years adults now, and there may be countless words in the dictionary, but nothing could ever describe how much you’ve grown to love each other more.

•••

A/N - I hope you like this new update! Idk what’s happening but the links seem to be broken on both iOS and desktop. Works fine on Android. So please let me know if you can’t find the Masterlist and the rest of this story!

[thestudentfarmer]

Hello and Good day everyone!

Today I want to talk about some simple preservation and kitchen scrap tips. With having an interest in sustainability, low waste, eco friendly and growing food for my family it just makes sense to know how to store produce for long term, convenient use and to make the most of my crops and groceries.

I had a few carrots and celery bags I picked up this week for varied food use and figured I'd do a lil post today on one of the ways I preserve carrots.

I don't have a pressure canner, or else I'd make some half pints and pints of carrots for the pantry. Instead I make do with what I have~ which is a freezer, dehydrator, or pickling.

Today im going to focus on freezer method.

You'll wanna take your carrots and wash 'em up. You can let them dry after wash up but its not strictly necessary.

Chop of both ends of the carrot. You can peel your carrots too if desired (save all these bits for later soup stock or to give to your chickens or compost piles) if you have nice leafy greens on your carrots, you can use those greens similar to parsley or as a salad additive. (Chickens enjoy them as well!)

For freezing carrots you'll want to blanch them first.

Blanching is just taking a pot of water, bringing ro a rolling boil and dumping raw veggies in (like carrots, green beans, broccoli spinich, sweet potato greens) the veggies will often go from a almost matte color to a brighter color when ready. It's suggested across media that about 5-10 minutes is enough.

Drain the carrots from the hot water and give them an ice bath (I usually don't have ice so I soak and rinse a few times to bring down the heat in the veggies)

I let the carrots drain and dry a bit, when dry I spread a towel over my baking pan, layer out a layer of carrot, popped it in the freezer.

When frozen, I pull the towel up, roll the carrots round a bit to break any that may be together apart and pack them in the storage container and pop them back into the freezer till needed.

That's it for today's post, short and simple :)

For more preservation ideas check out the links below

https://nchfp.uga.edu/how/can_04/carrots_sliced.html

https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/howto/guide/how-to-freeze-carrots

https://nchfp.uga.edu/how/can_06/pickled_carrots.html

🥕🌱Happy homesteading! 🌱🥕

8 21 2023

[reasoningdaily]

Rice Cooker Meals: Fast Home Cooking for Busy People: , or Feed a family quickly for under $10, with less mess to clean & get out the kitchen quicker!

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Rice Cooker Meals: Fast Home Cooking for Busy People: , or Feed a family quickly for under $10, with less mess to clean & get out the kitchen quicker!

RICE COOKER MEALS: FAST HOME COOKING FOR BUSY PEOPLE contains 60 quick, easy meals you can make in a rice cooker, most in 30 minutes or less.

click the title to DOWNLOAD FREE from the BLACK TRUEBRARY

Enjoy delicious recipes that are less expensive and healthier than fast food.

One-pot cooking means LESS MESS TO CLEAN UP so you'll be out of the kitchen quicker!

~~ THE RICE COOKER IS NOT JUST FOR RICE ANYMORE!~~ You may say, "But we are meat and potatoes people. We don't eat rice." Not a problem! Most of these recipes don't use rice, anyway, like our Chicken Fajita Stuffed Potato. Most people are astonished to learn how easy it is to cook nutritious meals in a simple rice cooker - meals such as Soups, Seafood, Casseroles, Pastas, Jambalayas, Potatoes and vegetables such as cabbage, yams, etc. "IN A RICE COOKER?" Yes, they're all cooked in a rice cooker. Here are a few recipes from the book: Easy Chili, Mexican Rice, Tex-Mex Pasta,Shrimp Jambalaya, Cabbage Casserole, Cajun Pepper Steak, Chicken Fried Rice, Rice & Shrimp Pilaf, Chicken & Sausage Gumbo, Black-eyed Pea & Sausage Soup, Candied Yams with Marshmallows, Easy Smothered Potatoes & Sausage, and everyone's favorite- Black-eyed Pea & Sausage Jambalaya. RICE COOKER MEALS offers a time-saving alternative to conventional cooking.

With this cookbook you will feed a family of four for under $10, and have leftovers!

Or a college student can eat like a King (or Queen) for an entire week!

Make mouth-watering feasts for your friends in just 30 minutes!

Prepare inexpensive meals for a full week that you can store in your fridge.

~~ A RICE COOKER AS A PORTABLE KITCHEN!~~ You can think of a rice cooker as a portable kitchen. All you need is this cookbook and an electrical outlet. This opens up a whole new way of thinking about cooking. Cook a meal practically anywhere!

Bring it to work and set it up in the break room, on a spare desk, or the office kitchen.

Bring it to the party, tailgating, church or social gathering you're going to and impress your friends with the tasty meal or appetizer you have prepared.

Provides fast, healthy meals for college students living in dorms or apartments.

Bring it along on RV or camping trips.

Remodeling your kitchen? Just moved in? Kitchen appliances not working? Use a rice cooker!

Great for military barracks and other places where an open flame is prohibited!

Power outage? A hurricane, blizzard or other calamity is messing up your day? Have a generator? Have a long extension cord? Just plug in your rice cooker, eat and enjoy! Make this part of your Emergency Preparedness Plans.

Inexpensive - the Blackeyed Pea & Sausage Jambalaya recipe uses inexpensive ingredients and makes a huge pot full!

No need to heat up the kitchen with all the stove burners on. Just one rice pot plugged in, and it doesn't even have to be in the kitchen. Anywhere there is an electric outlet will do fine.

Children are using our cookbook recipes to win 4-H cooking contests!

It's great for retirees or empty-nesters who only want to cook a meal for two.

It's spontaneous - if guests drop by unexpectedly, throw a meal together quickly, so little or no planning is necessary.

No need to stock exotic ingredients. Use ingredients you already have in your pantry, cupboard, refrigerator or freezer.

The cookbook also has two indexes so the recipes are easier to find: indexed by chapter and indexed in alphabetical order.

It has numerous testimonials from good cooks affiliated with the LSU AgCenter Homemaker Clubs. They tested the recipes and gave their honest opinions.

It includes short articles about time-saving tips on food preparation, how a rice cooker knows when the food is cooked, how to teach children to safely cook with a rice cooker, how to brown meat in a rice cooker, plus many more.

click the title to DOWNLOAD FREE from the BLACK TRUEBRARY

[artemisarticles]

Getting Started

Clear the decks. Take everything out of your pantry, give it a hard look and decide what you can get rid of. Be ruthless. If you haven’t used it in a year, get rid of it.

Keep what looks and smells good. “Expiration,” “sell by,” and “best by” dates are not good guidelines. Some are determined by regulators, others by manufacturers, and almost all are arbitrary. Properly stored, some (unopened) ingredients, like canned fish, can last for years; others, like dried herbs, start declining in quality the moment they are sealed in a container.

Assess what remains. Then organize it according to the logic that makes sense to you: There’s no single best system. Your nut butters might be with the condiments, or the breakfast items, or the baking supplies.

Fill in the blanks with food that will make you a better cook. Each of the pantry lists below is a proposal, not a prescription. There’s no reason to stock black beans if you only like red. There’s no need to have everything here available at all times. You’ll know your pantry is well stocked for your purposes when most of the time, you need only add one or two fresh ingredients to cook one of our recipes from scratch. Or even better, none.

The Essential Pantry

The foundation layer for all three pantries, this is where everyone should start. There’s so much to be done with these basics. The rule here is stock your pantry mostly with what you’re confident using, and what you love to eat. You’ll turn to it again and again.

Oils and vinegars: Extra-virgin olive oil, neutral cooking oil (such as canola or grapeseed), red-wine vinegar, white vinegar or white-wine vinegar.

Cans and jars: Tuna in olive oil, tomato paste, diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, chicken stock or vegetable stock (box-packed tastes better than canned). A good-tasting, simple tomato sauce can become a soup or a stew, or make a quick dinner with pasta or polenta.

Spices and dried herbs: Kosher salt, red-pepper flakes, ground cayenne, curry powder, bay leaves, black peppercorns, sweet paprika, ground cinnamon, ground cumin, garlic powder or granulated garlic, dried thyme and dried oregano. This selection will take you through everything from a basic beef stew to Saturday morning pancakes to Thanksgiving dinner.

Grains and starches: Long-grain white rice, one or two other grains (such as quinoa or farro), dry pasta (one long, one short and chunky), plain bread crumbs, crackers, canned beans (white beans, black beans and-or chickpeas), dry lentils.

Nuts and nut butters: Walnuts, almonds, roasted peanuts, peanut butter (smooth and crunchy).

Sweeteners: Honey, maple syrup, granulated sugar.

Preserves and pickles: Fruit jams and preserves, anchovies.

Condiments and sauces: Basic vinaigrette, mustard (yellow or Dijon), mayonnaise, ketchup, hot sauce, salsa, soy sauce.

Produce: Garlic, onions, all-purpose potatoes (such as Yukon Gold), lemons, shelf-stable tofu (Essential for vegetarians, Expanded for others).

Dairy: Eggs, unsalted butter, cheeses (Cheddar, Jack or Colby, Parmesan), milk or cream for cooking (not skim).

Freezer: Chicken parts, sausages, thick fish fillets, shrimp, thick-sliced bread (for toast), spinach (and other vegetables such as corn and peas), berries (and other fruit such as peaches and mango). Some fruits and vegetables take particularly well to freezing — and in most growing seasons, the quality is better than fresh. Frozen fruit is useful for baking and smoothies.

Baking: All-purpose flour, cornmeal, rolled oats, cornstarch, baking soda, baking powder, pure vanilla extract, light brown sugar, dark brown sugar, confectioners’ sugar, bittersweet baking chocolate, semisweet chocolate chips, raisins or another dried fruit, cocoa powder. With these ingredients on hand, thousands of cookies, brownies, cakes, muffins, quick breads and other sweets can be produced without a trip to the store.

The Expanded Pantry

For the cook who has a grasp of the basics, but wants to be able to stretch toward new options and flavors. Here, long-lasting, punchy ingredients like tahini, hoisin sauce, coconut milk, sherry vinegar and capers are stocked alongside classics: limes with lemons, jasmine rice as well as long-grain, almond butter in addition to peanut butter.

Oils and vinegars: Peanut oil, coconut oil, sesame oil, sherry or balsamic vinegar, apple-cider vinegar.

Cans and jars: Sardines, unsweetened coconut milk, whole Italian plum tomatoes, beef stock (box-packed tastes better than canned). Whole plum tomatoes are rarely called for in recipes, but they tend to be the ripest and best-quality fruit. They can be diced or crushed to use in a recipe — or drained and slow-roasted for an intense topping on omelets, salads, grain bowls or pizza.

Spices: Flaky salt, single-chile powders (such as ancho and pasilla), ground coriander, turmeric, smoked paprika, cardamom, za’atar, allspice, fennel seeds, dry mustard, garam masala (a basic Indian mix of warm spices), five-spice powder (a basic Chinese mix of spices), whole nutmegs.

Grains and starches: Rice noodles, basmati or jasmine rice, brown rice, panko bread crumbs, dry beans.

Nuts and nut butters: Almond butter, tahini, pecans.

Preserves and pickles: Olives (oil-cured and-or in brine), capers in brine. These ingredients, served with good bread and butter, make an elegant appetizer with wine, or everyday snack.

Condiments and sauces: Worcestershire sauce, hoisin, Thai red curry paste, fish sauce, anchovy paste, harissa.

Produce: Russet potatoes, carrots, celery, limes, ginger, avocados, parsley, cilantro, scallions, jalapeños. Keeping chiles, aromatics and herbs on hand gives you instant access to intensely fresh flavors, even for — maybe especially for — the simplest dishes you cook.

Dairy: Plain full-fat yogurt, more intense cheeses (pecorino, feta), salted butter.

Freezer: Pancetta, artichoke hearts, homemade stock, homemade bread crumbs, fresh pasta, vegetables (cauliflower, broccoli, cut and peeled winter squash, chopped onions), cooked grains. Prepared ingredients like chopped onions and cooked grains speed your route to dinner.

Baking: Cake flour, whole-wheat flour, dark baking chocolate, vanilla beans, almond extract, powdered gelatin, molasses, light corn syrup, buttermilk powder, active dry yeast.

The Expert Pantry

For the cook who likes taking global flavors, new methods and viral recipes for a spin. Here, the chiles get hotter, the chocolates darker and the cheeses funkier. These ingredients are just a fraction of what’s out there, but by stocking them, you will be able to cook almost any recipe you come across and experiment with creating your own.

Spices: Hot smoked paprika (pimentón), sumac, cumin seeds, coriander seeds, flaky dried chiles (such as Aleppo, Urfa or Maras), dried whole chiles (like ancho and arból), marjoram, dukkah, baharat, shichimi. Whether you stock spice mixes like baharat (a mix of warm spices used in the Middle East) or shichimi (a Japanese blend of ground chiles and sesame seeds) will depend on the global flavors that most appeal to you.

Grains and starches: Short-grain rice, dried pastas (bucatini, mezzi rigatoni or farfalle), spelt, pearl barley.

Nuts and nut butters: Pine nuts, hazelnuts, pumpkin seeds (pepitas), pistachios. Toasted nuts like these (not as everyday as almond and peanuts) are good in salads and granola, on roasted fish, or just with olives for a classic pre-dinner snack.

Preserves and pickles: Pickled hot peppers, cornichons, kimchi, preserved lemons, roasted chiles, horseradish, caperberries, dried sausages such as saucisson sec and chorizo. The intense flavors of pickled and salted ingredients can be a great pick-me-up for mild dishes. In cooking, you can often substitute a bit of preserved lemon for regular lemon, or use the brine from cornichons as part of the liquid in a recipe.

Condiments and sauces: Gochujang, mango chutney, miso, wasabi, dark soy sauce, Chinese oyster sauce, Asian chili bean pastes.

Produce: Shallots, fresh mint, fresh rosemary, lemongrass, fresh Serrano and Thai bird chiles, fresh bay leaves.

Dairy: Ghee, crème fraîche, aged cheeses (Gruyère, blue cheese). Ghee (Indian-style clarified butter) and crème fraîche can reach much higher temperatures than butter, yogurt and sour cream without burning or breaking, so they are useful in cooking.

Freezer: Edamame, curry leaves, makrut lime leaves, merguez (spicy lamb sausages from North Africa). Fragrant leaves like makrut lime and curry (not the spice mix, but an Indian tree with scented leaves) are much more powerful in frozen form than dried.

Baking: Bread flour, pectin, almond flour, tapioca pearls, rose and orange flower waters, gelatin sheets, black cocoa, currants, fresh yeast, sparkling sugar, pearl sugar, candied citrus rinds

Best Practices

Once you have your ingredients, remember that cooking will always create change and disorder. Cans of tomatoes may never match, spices may never live in matching containers, and your hot sauce collection may always try to take over the condiment shelf. But here are a few final thoughts on how to keep your pantry well stocked and well organized enough to be truly useful.

ORGANIZING TIPS

Cooks with different styles need different systems. Some people store the jam with the dried fruits and maple syrup; others associate it with peanut butter, mustard and mayonnaise. The best logic is your own, and it may take some time to figure that out.

If you can’t see it, you’re probably not going to use it. A storage space with more shelving is the most efficient configuration for ingredients. Drawers or slide-out shelves also help tremendously with visibility.

Store everything you can in clear containers. Airtight plastic ones are best, and available in many shapes, sizes, and systems. Rectangular shapes make the best use of space.

Keep a roll of painter’s tape and some permanent markers in a kitchen drawer. It’ll help you make quick labels.

MAXIMIZING INGREDIENTS

Be realistic about your habits. It’s great to clean and trim a week’s worth of vegetables at once — but if you’re not going to do that, buy smaller quantities.

Buy ground spices in the smallest quantities you can find (except for spices you use regularly). Specialty companies will ship as little as an ounce, about 3 tablespoons. You’ll save space and produce better, brighter flavors in your food.

Buy fresh herbs. Dried herbs used to be a pantry essential, but most start out with very little flavor and lose it quickly in storage. (A couple of exceptions are dried oregano and dried thyme.) Pick up fresh herbs when you need them for a particular recipe; it’s a better investment of money and storage space.

Buy heavy, shelf-stable ingredients like boxed broth and canned tomatoes in bulk; better yet, order them online to save time and irritation. Almost any delivery service or website will offer a better price on these items than a brick-and-mortar store.

Cooked ingredients are much easier to use up than raw ones. Whether you steam, boil, pan-fry or roast, cook anything in your refrigerator that looks tired. You can always use it in a salad, a grain bowl or a pasta.

[millennialgrandma]

26!

26. Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?

Ohhhh I am delighted you've chosen to ask this one. And providing simple answers is simply not in my nature, so buckle in.

I would answer yes to both. I enjoy baking, but I'm nowhere near Bake Off levels of home baker. I love making cookies, but I pretty much stick to only baking Christmas cookies (after 7 years, I would call the pecan tassies a specialty) and the annual batch of doctored up chocolate chip (browned butter, coffee, dark chocolate chips). And the reason I restrict my cookie baking is that I am canonically unable to restrict my cookie eating (I will eat 16 cookies in one day and feel sick, but not remorseful. It's a problem). Sweet treats aside, I've been baking peasant bread weekly for the past however many months, so I'd call that a specialty in the sense that I can do it from memory. And it's fucking delicious and if you wanted an easy, entry-level no-fuss bread recipe, this one is it.

Now for cooking. I'd say I'm a very experimental/intuitive home cook. Not in a cooking competition way. But in a...do what feels right and what I think would taste good kind of way? I won't bore you with the details of how I got here, but I tried so many new recipes and foods and now I just do what I want. I would say soup is one of my specialties. I fucking love soup. Anything can be soup. When I put off going to store and it's time for a round of pantry roulette, I almost always make soup - sad fridge vegetables, canned beans, a grain of some sort (usually farro, my beloved), and whatever spices strike my fancy and go with the ingredients already in the pot. Another specialty would be pizza. Just like soup, I firmly believe anything can pizza. And when I decide to make a pizza, it's straight up whackadoodle time. I'm talking brussels sprouts and jammy red onions. I'm talking summer squash and zucchini. I'm talking asparagus and potato. And my personal favorite from last year was when I made my dreams of a leek and potato soup-inspired pizza come true. Crust is always handmade, and always thin and crispy (because I will inevitably eat the whole pizza and the thinner the crust, the less the tummy hurty).

I would talk about food forever if you let me, but I think I've rambled enough so I'll shut up now 😆 thanks so much for playing!! 💛

keep the questions coming

[annaphoenix1994]

Masterlist!

October 7th - Michael Makes You a Festive and Spooky Dinner

Michael of your Choosing!

How you hated working a retail job, especially towards the end of the year when most of the festivities and holidays are closer together.

Some days, you got home right on time. And other days, you had to stay over for a half hour to provide coverage on a register while waiting on the next cashier to come in.

Due to this, you were unable to check your phone every time you felt it buzzing.

Whether it being Michael or one of your friends, you just couldn't do it.

When the store was slow, you took the opportunity to check your phone and open the text message Michael had sent you, which wasn't often as he truly hated a phone, but he liked to communicate with you and you figured giving him one of your older phones would help him as it took him forever to come out of his shell and actually speak to you.

He simply asked you when you were coming home and you could only reply with "I'm waiting on the next cashier to get here so I can leave. Probably another hour."

He hated when your job seemed to take advantage of you, but he desperately tried to understand.

Roughly an hour later, you were relieved to see the cashier come in to relieve you from the register. Clocking out in a rush, you were desperate to get home and start on dinner.

Once home, you immediately took note of a warm and nostalgic smell coming from inside as you opened the door. Michael was cooking?

"Michael? I'm home!" You announced, removing your shoes off of your feet at the door and setting down your purse.

He didn't reply to you, but you continued into the kitchen to see him stirring whatever it was he had put into the crock pot.

You smiled, leaning up against the doorframe to watch him. Whatever he was making looked and smelled very good, especially what was in the oven.

"Whatcha making?" You asked, surprised that you startled him.

He set the wooden spoon on the nearby napkin before coming over to greet you, kissing your temple before replying, "I went hunting."

You gasped, praying he was joking, pushing him away from you before he started laughing. "Relax, I'm just kidding. Vegetable soup."

"I don't know if I trust you now." You giggled before watching him go to the trash can to show you that he used cans of vegetables and a can of corned beef.

"I'd never do that," He shook his head. "Who do you think I am? Dahmer?"

"I'd sure hope not."

"I mean, I've done my fair share of bad things, but the things he did...wow. I remember reading about him when I was, you know, locked up."

"Whatcha got in the oven?"

"Cinamon streusel cake."

"Wow, you made that all yourself?" You asked, knowing you didn't have any cake mix of that stature in your pantry.

"Yeah... after I figured out how to use Google." He chuckled.

"I'm sure it'll be delicious."

"You got home just in time. It's almost done. Go get settled in and I'll have a bowl waiting on you. Figured we could watch a movie tonight if you wanted to."

"Of course, Michael."

Seriously, how was this man so perfect for you?

[subukunojess]

Snake and Spider Stew For Yuu

Felix Cavatica's School Uniform Vignette

A Twisted Wonderland One-Shot for the "Legends Over The Horizon" Series.

Content Mentions: Snakes, Spiders, and illusions

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: On one Saturday with no classes, the Vice Housewarden of Ramshackle Dorm establishes a new tradition after realizing the food situation Crowley put for both Yuu and Grim. To get the sense of home cooking again, Felix decides to make a creative spin on Snake and Spider Stew and stock up at Sam's store with some surprises along the way.

Excerpt:

Yuu and Grim found themselves lined up in the kitchen which was mostly swept up and decent. Yuu had found a torn apron in one of the pantry closets and gave a chef's hat for Grim to wear. Felix paced in front of them as if he were a professional instructor. 

"Let's start with what we know. What do you know how to cook?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, wanting to know what he was working with. 

"Besides making creations in the microwave?" Yuu tilted their head. "I can make sandwiches, omelets, pizza, pre-packaged soups, mashed potatoes, and milkshakes, and I can follow the recipe well!"

"I just eat whatever's lying around. It's a bonus and delicacy if it's a fine-dining meal!" Grim shrugged. Felix pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. 

"... you're not gonna survive Twisted Wonderland having food like that alone. Move over and let me show ya how it's done." 

I forgot to post this on here since I was participating in No Content November at the time, but here is one of my personal story one-shots for one of my Twst OCs, Felix. I know Felix does not come into the main fic "Legends Over The Horizon" until the second or third chapter, but I wanted to practice writing for him and the lore/references/relationships. Plus I was about finished with the one shot at the time.

This fic features my Yuu who is Autistic and Nonbinary. I tried my best with this. I have a lot of fics on the back burner. Happy Holidays and Enjoy!

[revisitnormal]

asher's dubious bastard ramen recipe

are you like me, someone who both fucking loves ramen and also can't make the real deal to save their life?

boy do i have some good fucking news for you

I never measure jack shit, which is a bit of a shame because I know folks like specifics in recipes, but I have faith in your ability to improvise. Ready? Ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything I used for this I just had chilling around my kitchen. It's mostly very flexible, and (save for one extremely key ingredient) you can use whatever you have sitting in your kitchen for this to work!

First off, toppings

In order to make packaged ramen a closer cousin to the real deal, you gotta add some toppings. This also has the added benefit of making it into A Whole Meal instead of just noodles in broth.

I have a specific list of the toppings I use, but that's just because I'm a very picky boy. I'll throw on some thinly slice some mushrooms and scallions, add some chicken I cooked up, and poach an egg in the broth to finish it off.*

Other recommended toppings I've seen are: nori, bamboo shoots, American cheese, kimchi, spam, bean sprouts, bok choy, sriracha, frozen veggies, and more.

Truly, you can put whatever the fuck you want on this bad boy.

Next, the soup

We've got our toppings all chosen and prepped, now it's time for the star of the show.

First up is the chicken broth. If you can get your hands on it, I'd recommend one of the "bone broth" labeled ones. To my knowledge, all stock/broth is bone broth, but they seem to have put some extra effort into these bad boys. In any case, if you can get good quality chicken broth you should use that, as it's the majority of the base.

Now I like things to have a bit of spice to them, so I add a dollop of gochujang (a Korean chili paste) and some pre-grated ginger (I use the kind in a tube, but that's just because I hate doing dishes and didn't want to grate it myself.) I didn't add that much for this ramen, but you can adjust accordingly to your desired heat level.

You'll also need a little pat of butter, the seasoning packet from the ramen, and some soy sauce.

Then, the Secret

Gelatin. Powdered gelatin.**

You know what gives ramen broth its delicious body? What makes it velvety and delicious and hearty? Yeah they make that ingredient in powdered form and it's indefinitely shelf-stable. As I was grabbing the instant ramen pack I saw it gathering dust in my pantry and went ".....huh"

Folks this is the one non-negotiable ingredient in this secret recipe.

Luckily, unflavored gelatin is really easy to come by in the baking aisle of your local grocery store.***

Finally, the process

Gather your toppings. Wash and slice what needs to be washed and sliced (mushrooms and scallions), cook what needs to be cooked (chicken), and set aside things that can't be added yet (soon-to-be-poached egg.)

Get some chicken stock heating on the stove. Add in your gochujang and ginger, as well as some of the instant-ramen flavoring packet and soy sauce to taste.

While you're bringing the broth to a boil, bloom your gelatin according to instructions. Generally, this means sprinkle over cold water and let sit for 1-5 minutes so the granules can hydrate properly.

Add your brick of noodles to the water once it boils, keeping an eye on it. While the noodles are still a bit undercooked, use tongs to take them out and put them into your serving bowl.****

Once your noodles are safely moved and your gelatin fully bloomed, turn the heat off.

Transfer a few spoonfuls of broth into your gelatin water and stir until dissolved. If it's not dissolving, you might need to add some more hot broth, or potentially the gelatin didn't bloom long enough (which I don't know how to fix.)

When all the gelatin is dissolved, pour the mixture into no-longer-boiling broth, add your little pat of butter, and stir to combine.

Crack an egg into the broth and put a lid on the pot to trap the residual heat while the egg poaches.

When the egg is done (???? minutes later? I am so sorry), transfer everything into the serving bowl and top appropriately.

The end!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know this is a super bastardized version of real ramen, but when you want something similar but don't have the cash for the real deal this version is still pretty darn tasty. I hope your instant ramen turns out as delicious as mine did, and I'd love to hear if you decide to give this a try.

Love,

Asher

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Frozen corn and bean sprouts also join the mix when I have them, but bean sprouts go bad faster than I can eat them and I always forget to check the freezer for ramen ingredients. Sometimes if I'm feeling fancy I'll toast some sesame seeds, but only sometimes because of Textures™️

**I only used powdered because that's what I had, but I don't see any reason why you couldn't use sheet gelatin instead!

***If you're a vegetarian/vegan, make sure you check to see that your gelatin is too– not all of them are.

****The instant noodles' structural integrity is dubious at best, and will turn to mush if you let them cook all the way.

[forgottenyear]

[tw: food]

I just finished cooking chicken noodle soup. It would have gone faster if I would do things the way most people do, but I must be obnoxiously different.

I forgot to start cooking out the broth the night before, and forgot to start it in the morning, so it was not finished until late. I then needed to cook the soup.

It was already past my bedtime when I began bagging the soup for the freezer. It was still warm, so I made a great mess.

Then there was the large crock pot and its lid to clean, a too-large soup pot to clean, the fine strainer, a ladle, a measuring cup, several spoons, anything I happened to touch while my hands were covered with broth, and the stove top. And since I was already cleaning all that, I cleaned all the dishes in the sink and then the kitchen.

So, after a day of work (not counting the two days spent making the original roast chicken), we have six and a half cups of chicken noodle soup. None of which I can eat because I was too tired to sauté the onions and added them raw (I am allergic). I made it for my partner anyway.

Since my partner wanted two-cup servings, there are three bags in the freezer and a little in a container in the fridge.

All in all, it was a better use of my time than lying awake in bed, idly avoiding sleep. Plus, I can brag that I can get at least seven good meals from one chicken.

Three days of work to get there, and maybe three minutes total spent eating all seven meals (that is how it often feels). Had I used the store-bought broth from my pantry, rather than making my own, the soup could have been made in a couple of hours. But that does not make for good storytelling, does it?

[ankitborkartelzon]

How to Cook Indian Dishes at Home with Ingredients from Indian Plaza

Cooking Indian food at home can seem intimidating, but with the right ingredients and a few tips, you can easily recreate your favorite Indian dishes in your own kitchen. Whether you’re craving a creamy butter chicken, a spicy curry, or a hearty lentil dal, Indian Plaza offers all the essential ingredients you need. With locations in ENFIELD, FIRLE, and PLYMPTON, we make it easy for you to cook authentic Indian dishes at home.

Here’s how you can use ingredients from Indian Plaza to make delicious Indian meals:

1. Stock Up on Essential Spices

The secret to flavorful Indian cooking lies in the spices. At Indian Plaza, we offer a wide variety of fresh, organic spices that are essential for Indian cuisine. Whether you’re making a simple dal or an elaborate biryani, having the right spices on hand is key. Some essential spices to include in your pantry are:

Turmeric: Adds warmth and a golden color to your dishes.

Cumin: An earthy spice used in curries, rice dishes, and soups.

Coriander: Adds a citrusy flavor to both sweet and savory dishes.

Garam Masala: A blend of warming spices that enhances the flavor of any curry.

Looking for fresh spices? Visit the best grocery shop near you—Indian Plaza.

2. Lentils and Grains for Hearty Dishes

Lentils and grains are staples in Indian cuisine, forming the base for many traditional dishes. At Indian Plaza, you’ll find a variety of lentils and grains, including:

Basmati Rice: Ideal for biryani and pilaf.

Toor Dal: A staple in many Indian homes for making dal.

Chickpeas (Chana): Perfect for chana masala or salads.

Find premium grains and lentils at the best grocery shop near you.

3. Fresh Produce and Dairy

Indian cuisine often relies on fresh vegetables and dairy products to complete dishes. From green chilies and tomatoes to paneer and yogurt, Indian Plaza provides fresh produce and dairy to bring authenticity to your home-cooked meals.

Shop for fresh vegetables and dairy at the best grocery shop near you.

4. Ready-to-Eat Snacks and Sweets

Indian Plaza offers a range of ready-to-eat snacks and sweets, perfect for when you’re craving a quick snack or dessert. Whether you love crispy samosas, spicy pakoras, or sweet gulab jamun, we have a wide selection of traditional Indian snacks and sweets.

Indulge in Indian snacks and sweets at the best grocery shop near you.

5. Specialty Ingredients for Every Recipe

At Indian Plaza, we also stock specialty ingredients that can be hard to find in regular grocery stores. From dosa batter to coconut milk and tamarind paste, we have all the specialty items you need to create authentic dishes.

Find specialty Indian ingredients at the best grocery shop near you.

Conclusion

Cooking Indian food at home doesn’t have to be complicated. With fresh, organic spices, high-quality grains, and specialty ingredients from Indian Plaza, you can easily make delicious and authentic Indian dishes. Visit one of our stores in ENFIELD, FIRLE, or PLYMPTON, or shop online at Indian Plaza and experience why we’re the best grocery shop near you for all your Indian cooking needs.