#Dried Blueberries Market

[chetanagblog]

Dried Blueberries Market size was valued at US$ 5.42 Billion in 2022 and the total Dried Blueberries revenue is expected to grow at 6.3% through 2023 to 2029, reaching nearly US$ 8.31 Billion.

[mrs-lockley]

Reach for the Moon | II. The Falling

PAIRINGS: (Slow Burn, Romantic) Jake Lockley x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, (Platonic) Steven Grant x Southeast Asian!Fem Reader, (Unrequited) Marc Spector x Southeast Asian Fem!Reader, no use of Y/N, no physical description of the reader but coded to be very feminine

WARNINGS: Unrequited love (Reader is in love with Marc, Marc is oblivious but means well), mentions and discussions of food (cooking and baking), italics in dialogue indicates Reader and her parents speaking a foreign language (unspecified), brief mention of middle school and high school, so much yearning and fluff that you might get a toothache

WORD COUNT: 7.3k

Inspired by the 1954 film & 1995 remake of Sabrina, No Moon Knight AU. 

SERIES MASTERLIST | PART I. THE BREAKING

CHAPTER SUMMARY: The wall begins to crumble, revealing the White Knight waiting on the other side. You soon learn there is more to the man beneath the armor, and see the heart that lies within. 

TAGLIST: @soft-girl-musings, @venting402, @musing-magpie, @writefightandflightclub, @kezibear, @silverklaus, @badbishsblog, @marc-spectorr, @myhohastuff, @grumpyahjumma, @h4untedsp3ctor, @harv3sting

See end for author's notes

THE FALLING

The next couple of weeks were quiet, but eventful as the days grew shorter into the start of autumn. As the leaves changed from green to red and the air grew colder, you found solace in the change of seasons. A new season brought new beginnings, and life had a way of bringing you into unexpected places. 

Since the success of your cousin’s bakery (the Mochi Flower Bakery and Café, as you and your cousin affectionately named it) in Singapore, your family considered expanding the business to New York. You exchanged ideas and recipes over video calls with your cousin, aunt, and uncle as your parents researched possible places to open up shop. It was all new and exciting, and in hindsight, distracted you from the heartache of being left at the market that summer night. There was no better distraction than trying to perfect the recipe for the most delicious lemon ricotta cake. 

Marc texted you a few days later with an apology. He left you a voicemail as well (you were running errands when he called), and as you listened to his apology, you still could not find it in yourself to be upset with him for leaving you. How could you be angry with him when you still harbored an unrequited crush on him almost three years later? 

When he offered to meet with you to make amends, you politely declined with an excuse that you were visiting an old college friend from out of town, but in reality, you did not know if you could face him again. 

After that night, you carefully discarded the daffodils he had given you when he picked you up from the airport. Your heart was numb as you stared at the dried petals in the wastebasket, your eyes puffy and swollen for the next few nights. Could you truly mourn a loss if he was never yours?

You never told your parents or Steven the truth of the date, and you wondered if they knew. If they did, your parents never said anything, but your best friend —ever the perceptive man— seemed to know the truth, even when you tried to hide it from him. 

It was a Sunday night when Steven was with you in the kitchen. While your parents were watching a drama in the living room, you and Steven wore matching aprons as he helped you bake a vegan blueberry cake.

“In the middle of my tour, I was talking about the Egyptian mummification process when one of the girls interrupted me and asked if I knew what it was like to be rejected from the Field of Reeds,” Steven told you as you frosted the cake. “Honestly, middle school girls can be vicious, especially when some of her friends laughed with her.”

You looked over at him, your eyes soft as you placed a gentle hand over his. “Kids can be brutal, but they’re just kids. I was a middle school girl once, and we aren’t all bad. People change.”

Steven smiled softly with a sigh as you finished frosting the cake. You wanted to replicate a vintage cake with different shades of blue and ivory cream, and you hoped that you were not putting too much buttercream. As pretty as vintage cakes looked, you did not like wasting the cream when you knew most people do not eat all of it. You were more accustomed to your desserts being on the lighter side of the sweetness scale, and ever since your return from Singapore, you had a hard time stomaching American pastries.

“You’re right about that love,” Steven agreed. Once you set the piping bag aside, he moved to start decorating the top with blueberries. “They’re just kids, but they’ll change and grow. But I admit, I was feeling a little sassy too.”

You lowered your hands and looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” You narrowed your eyes at him, lightly swatting his hand as he sneakily tried to eat a few blueberries. “I just told her that the souls in the duat would try to claim anyone who fell in the sand, and that she better hope that if I was rejected, I wouldn’t be the first one to eat her.”

“Steven Grant!”

Your best friend chuckled as you scolded him, narrowly dodging your wooden spoon. “She was being rather nasty throughout the tour, so I had to give her a reality check.”

You let out a dejected sigh as he grabbed another handful of blueberries from the basket. You did not have the heart to tell him to stop since you already finished decorating the cake.

For as long as you have known Steven, he was quite a character. Smart and quick-witted, he always fired back in the most eloquent manner.

“Okay, maybe she deserved it,” you told him, trying not to roll your eyes as he grinned mischievously beside you. “But I’m not condoning it.”

You moved over to the stove to pour yourself, Steven, and your parents a cup of tea. Throughout your life, your parents always liked a cup of tea with their dessert, and through the years, you got Steven into that habit as well. 

Your best friend hummed quietly as he helped set the cups on the counter, his fingers lightly tracing the small teacup. It was one of your favorite sets, white with a dark blue floral design painted across the ceramic with a matching saucer and golden teaspoon. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen this set before,” Steven mused as you placed the kettle back onto the stove. “When did you get this?”

Heat licked at your cheeks, your heart pounding as you looked down at the cup. The warmth of the tea burned your fingers slightly as you held the teacup in your hands, and if you pulled away, you wondered if the flowers burned onto your skin like a brand that would never heal.

“Marc got it for me for my birthday before I went to Singapore,” you answered quietly, your voice low. “I don’t remember where he got it, but he said he knew someone who knew where to find tea sets.”

A dull ache grew in the depths of your chest as you remembered your last birthday before you left for Singapore. Your parents took you out of town to celebrate the Friday before your birthday, and that weekend, your mother cooked your favorite noodles (“for long life,” she would always say) and your father commissioned one of his coworkers to bake a special cake for you. You celebrated one day with your family, and another with your old childhood and college friends. It was a wonderful sendoff before your departure, but you could not help but feel nostalgic at the memory. 

One day, you lamented to Marc how much you wanted a matching tea set. A few times you traveled with your parents as a teenager to the Lion City where you admired your aunt’s tea sets that she displayed in their china cabinet. You remembered how much your mother pestered your father to buy any matching dinnerware whenever there was a sale at her favorite department store, especially when there were tea sets. While your family did not have much when they immigrated to the United States, your mother would tell you that her parents collected china and other sets as family heirlooms. She wished she could have taken it with her to New York, and you wanted to help her create a collection here. 

A few days before your birthday, Marc dropped by your place with a gift box wrapped beautifully with a navy blue bow on top. Your parents were in the kitchen eavesdropping as you opened the gift on the living room floor with Marc at your side. 

“Marc, it’s beautiful,” you told him. You held the ceramic delicately in your hands, sighing in awe as you turned it over. The dark blue floral design was nostalgic and intricate. “They look just like the ones that my aunt and uncle have back home.”

He smiled gently at you, his arms warm as you hugged him. “I’m glad you liked it. Happy birthday, kid.”

You placed your teacup down on the saucer and sighed. Out of all the tea sets you owned, you rarely used the blue one that Marc had given you. It was your favorite, and as much as your mother wanted to take it down from the china cabinet to use, you always told her that you wanted to save it for special occasions. 

But since that night, you brought it down from the cabinet. Your mother didn’t say anything when she watched you wash the set in the sink, and you wondered if she knew the real reason you brought it down.

He was quiet as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did Marc hurt you?”

You felt his eyes on you as you rolled the golden teaspoon between your fingers. You did not know if you had the courage to look at him.

Instead of answering, you shook your head. Steven sighed beside you, and you knew he did not believe you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Tears pricked your eyes, and you quickly brushed them away with the back of your hand. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. He still loves her, and I have to move on,” you answered as you turned to him with a weak smile. “I have to grow up and be a big girl now.”

His brown eyes softened, but full of worry as he looked at you. 

“Don’t blame yourself, love,” he comforted you. “He still cares about you.”

You knew that Marc still cared for you as a friend, but deep down, you knew he would never love you the way you loved him. 

“I know,” you whispered. You wiped at your eyes again and sighed, trying to get your mind off it. “Let’s cut the cake and bring the tea in the living room for my parents. They’re too engrossed in their drama to get off the couch.”

He chuckled softly, and you were grateful he did not bring it up again for the rest of the night. For the rest of the evening, you and Steven sat with your parents in the living room drinking tea and eating cake as they explained the romantic drama they were watching. It was a show that you remembered watching with your cousin in Singapore, and you could not help but smile as you saw how engrossed Steve became with the plot and characters. 

At the end of the night, you packed a few slices of the cake (with extra blueberries, per Steven’s request) for Steven to take home for Marc and Jake. As you walked him to the bus stop at the end of your street, he turned to you and pulled you into his arms, his voice soft and gentle. 

“I am always here for you, love,” he whispered, “whenever you need me.”

Your heart ached as he comforted you, and you pulled him tighter into your embrace. 

“Thank you.”

You sit in the kitchen with ink stained on your fingers as you look over the drawings of cakes, cupcakes, and different pastries in your sketchbook. Jake texted you earlier that afternoon if you wanted to join him in surprising his neighbor for her birthday. Taweret lived alone with the rest of her family back in Cairo, and she only had a couple friends with her in New York. There were a few times you encountered her whenever you visited his apartment (mainly to cook and exchange recipes with Steven), you became acquainted with the elderly lady. Whenever she saw you, she always requested to try whatever baked goods that you brought with you. Because of her, you always packed extra sweets, knowing how much she adored you and you, her.

Your parents were not too familiar with Jake, but they knew enough that he was quite old-fashioned and polite (and “reminiscent of the gentlemen of my youth,” your mother remarked to your father’s chagrin). You wondered if they were relieved that it was not Marc at the door when Jake dropped you off after your “date.” 

True to his word, he was around much more than before and met with you often. In the times that you two met, they were casual outings where you would grab a bite to eat or a drink at the local coffee shop. Other times, you asked him to tag along with you as you ran a few errands around town. It was during those times he offered to drive you, especially when you were grocery shopping for ingredients to try new recipes to add to a possible menu. He never accepted gas money from you (despite all the sneaky ways you tried to bribe him), but you compromised and treated him —and Steven and Marc— to any baked goods you created. 

Once you are satisfied with your revisions, you tuck your journal into your bag and take a seat at the kitchen island, your eyes locked on the oven window. While you are in charge of the cake, Jake is in charge of dinner, explaining he was going to try to make a traditional Egyptian dish. As he was already at the supermarket to pick up some groceries, he told you that he would pick you up since he would pass by your place on the way back. 

Different ingredients scatter the counter between the two of you as you organize your supplies. While you have your powdered sugar and tray on one side, Jake has his supplies and containers on the other, including a tupperware of cooked elbow macaroni, tomato sauce, and a bag of store-bought fried onions.

Jake stands at the stove with his back turned to you. Even on a casual Thursday night, he is dressed in his usual white button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing his warm tan skin. The only difference between his house clothes and outside clothes was the lack of his flat cap and tie, and his dress pants swapped with jeans and a plain apron to cover himself. 

Curiously, you stand beside him and watch as he stirs the lentils and rice together in a pot. The smell of coriander and pepper welcomes you, and your tummy grumbles at the smell and sight.

“What are you making?” 

“Koshari, I remember Taweret mentioning how much she misses eating it from back home. I watched a few tutorials and researched the recipe, and I hope I got it down,” he answers with a small smile. 

Then, he leans over to the side and pulls out a spoon from the drawer to hand to you. 

“Give it a try and let me know how it is, or if I’m missing anything. Once this is done, I just need to combine everything together.”

You grin as you dip the spoon into the pot. The tangy and spicy flavor fills your mouth in heat, but not too much that it would burn your tongue. It was enough spice to give the kick it needed. 

“It’s a little spicy, but not too spicy. It’s delicious,” you tell him with an encouraging smile. “I’ve always been curious to try your cooking. Steven says you’re the best cook between the three of you.”

He pauses slightly as he turns to you. His face is slightly flushed, his brown eyes wide in surprise at your words. “He said that?”

You smile with a nod of your head. “He did. When I visited him at the Smithsonian last week for lunch, he told me you made vegan shakshuka for him and he loved it. He said it was better than the shakshuka he normally makes.”

You remember sitting on the steps outside of the museum last week when you stopped by to see him during his lunch break. It was a beautiful autumn day where the museum was not too busy on a Tuesday afternoon, and his boss was kind enough to give him an extended break after doing several grade school tours that week. 

“I experimented and made some bagels last night, and I made a couple vegan ones for you,” you told him as you unwrapped the bagels on your lap. Your best friend smiled and thanked you as you handed it over to him. “I hope you like it, it’s my first time making bagels.”

“I know it’ll be great. Jake made a batch of vegan shakshuka for me and I think this would be a good match.” Steven opened his lunch and dipped the bread in his tupperware, even offering you a piece as you followed his instructions to dip your piece into the stew. “I don’t know how he did it, but he mastered it. I’ve been trying to make a decent version for months, and his version tastes better than all of my previous attempts. He’s the best cook out of all of us.”

As you look over at Jake, you are stunned to see his surprise. While you met Steven first and became friends with Marc second, it seemed that there were more layers to Jake than you realize. You knew that he was a private person who kept to himself, and you once believed he was an aloof individual who often kept people at arm’s length in the backseat of his car to keep his privacy. In the past, you only conversed with him from time to time, but over the past few months, you see that he is more sentimental than he appears to be. 

A knowing smile kisses your lips as he tries to hide his smile from you. You give him the privacy to cherish the moment as you turn back to the oven to watch the cake slowly rise.

“Can I say something?” You ask.

He hums slightly and nods as he turns off the stove. 

Wanting to help him, you reach for the bowl of chickpeas and heat them in the microwave. “You remind me of a tiramisu.”

He pauses for a moment with a soft chuckle, amused. “A tiramisu?”

You nod with a small smile. “Yes, a tiramisu. Before I got to know you, I used to think you were a bit detached with how private you are. I didn’t know much about you except from what Steven and Marc told me, and we only met a few times before I left for Singapore.”

At the beep of the microwave, Jake hands you the oven mitts to take the chickpeas out. You move closer to him as the two of you prepare to mix the lentils, rice, tomato sauce, pasta, and chickpeas together. 

“What changed your mind?” He asks quietly.

You think about his words as you plate the rice and lentils. “Spending time with you,” you answer. “The more time I spend with you, whether it’s you taking me to the bodega or the Asian supermarket, or even moments like these, you’ve shown me there’s more to you than people think. You’re private, but you’re also very kind.”

Jake steps closer to you to place the pasta and chickpeas on top. You could not read his expression. Did he find you weird and strange? Was he upset or offended?

As you move to hand him the tomato sauce, his hands reach for yours, helping you and quietly telling you to be careful since the bowl was still warm from when he cooked it earlier. 

His brown eyes flicker with amusement and curiosity as he glances up at you. 

“I still do not see how this pertains to me reminding you of tiramisu, conejita.”

You laugh softly as you look down at the koshari on the plate. 

“Tiramisu is like this dish,” you explain as he mixes everything together. “You may look a bit off-putting at first with how reserved and quiet you are, but that’s not a bad thing. The closer you look, there are different layers. They seem strange when they are all separated, but once you dig through the layers, you are very sweet like a tiramisu.”

Your eyes glance over at him, and you notice how his movements seem to slow as he waits for your next words.

“You made Steven shakshuka and you cooked Taweret’s favorite dish to surprise her for her birthday so she won’t be alone. You take care of people in a quiet way,” your voice grows softer as you speak, your heart aching slightly at the memories. “Twice, you found me crying and alone, and you were the one to bring me back home.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, and for a moment, you are brought back to that summer evening when Marc left you at the night market. You still remembered the heartbroken look on his face, the pain in his eyes, and the fear in his voice when he left. He was in so much pain, and even with your heart breaking in front of him, you wished you could take his pain away from him. 

Since that night, Marc left you a voicemail with his apology and wished to meet with you again, and as much as it hurt you, you kept your distance. It pained you how quick you were able to think of another reason why you could not see him. Perhaps with each text, you could finally cut those heartstrings, be a big girl, and move on.

Yet, the ache remained. It splintered deep inside of you like a tree taking deep roots in your chest, leaving a scar that you feared would never heal. 

“How is he doing, by the way?” You ask quietly as your lips begin to quiver. “Is he alright?”

He does not say anything for a moment as his gaze washes over you, and you wonder if he knew about your feelings for Marc. If he did, he never showed it.

His voice is gentle as he speaks, his eyes soft. 

“Marc is doing just fine,” he answers. “Steven and I are looking after him.”

You want to believe him, but a part of you hesitates. While you did not know the relationship between the three men, you did know one thing. Marc was perceptive, and he would worry. The last thing you wanted him to think was that he hurt you— you knew he would never forgive himself if he believed it. 

To your surprise, Jake leans forward and moves closer to you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. You blink in surprise and take a step back at his sudden movement.

“You have flour on your face,” he whispers. “Hold on.”

Suddenly, you feel the world stop around you as his hand softly caresses your face. You hold still, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as his thumb brushes the flour off your cheek. His touch is gentle and light, and he holds you as if you are a delicate thing. This was the first time Jake touched you like this and for a reason you could not explain, it was electrifying. It is as if he lit a flame and you are melting like candle wax under his touch.

Your head is still spinning when he pulls away. Your throat constricts as he looks at you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. 

You do not know what has come over you. As his gaze meets yours, the two of you are quiet with the only sound of your flustered breath filling the silence. While he shared the same face as Marc and Steven, it is the first time you see him up close. 

His eyes are just as brown, but there is a different softness to them in the kitchen light. A certain warmth fills his gaze—although intense—there is a sense of safety and familiarity as the corners of his eyes crinkle into a whisper of a comforting smile. A dark stray curl rests on his forehead, and if you look close enough, you catch slivers of starlight dusting at his temples. 

You always believed Jake to be a handsome man, and in the past couple of months that you have gotten to know him, you see him differently. He is the kind of handsome that you read in your romance novels, the quiet gentleman who was always by the heroine’s side, and in that moment, you understand why people have always gravitated towards him.

You have looked at him many times before, but your heart begins to ache in your chest. He wiped away your tears before and has comforted you in your most heartbroken and vulnerable moments, so why would brushing flour away cause you to feel like you are sixteen again?

The sound of the timer interrupts your thoughts. You gasp softly and quickly turn away to grab the oven mitts, welcoming the distraction from your heated cheeks and your beating heart. 

As you pull the cake out of the oven, you hear Jake pull away from you and the sound of a utensil scraping against the bottom of the pan. You set the cake onto the counter and are grateful for this moment—you are not sure if you had the courage to look at him yet.

With a deep breath, you glance down at the cake. The cake baked into a beautiful summer yellow with the edges a golden brown. It was perfect and exactly how you envisioned it. 

His voice breaks your thoughts, and it takes everything in you to not look at him. 

“What kind of cake did you make?”

“Lemon ricotta,” you answer softly. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the strainer and powdered sugar from across the counter. You feel his eyes on you, and as much as you try to hide it, you still feel nervous in front of him. “I made a lemon ricotta cake once a few months ago and Taweret said she loved it, so I wanted to make it for her again.”

Taking a deep breath, you ignore the way your hands tremble and begin to sift the flour and powder the cake with a light dusting of sugar for decoration. The two of you quietly work on completing your dishes with only the sound of a soft ballad playing from his vinyl record player in the living room. 

Once you are finished, you set your tools aside and look down at the cake. Lemon ricotta was not your specialty as you only baked it a couple times, and you worried about how it looked. Would she even like the cake with how simple and plain it looked?

“I want it to be perfect for her,” you whisper softly. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

His footsteps echo behind you. As he stands beside you, your head begins to spin. The warmth of his body radiates off him, and even as he stands a few inches beside you, the heat of his touch lingers on your skin. 

“That woman loves everything about you and adores you,” Jake assures you. “She’ll love it. I know she will.”

Warmth kisses your cheeks at his encouraging words. You never doubted your skills as a pastry chef, but hearing such praise from Jake strikes a chord in you. There were no words to describe your feelings at the moment. A foreign feeling tugged at your heart, reminiscent of butterflies that once fluttered in your tummy. 

“Go ahead and set the table,” he instructs as he gathers your supplies. “I’ll clean up. I already texted Taweret and she’ll be here in a few minutes.”

He smiles encouragingly at you, and you move to set the table. As you arrange the plates and utensils, you spare another look at Jake and watch him set the pots and pans in the dishwasher. You have spent countless days and afternoons in the kitchen with Steven and Marc in the past, but this is your first time to be in the kitchen with Jake. 

A few months ago when you returned from Singapore, you never would have thought that you would be baking by his side in the kitchen where you shared so many memories with his brothers. It was strange since you were not used to seeing Jake in such a domestic way, but it brings an odd comfort and warmth to you as he whistles in the kitchen. 

You smile to yourself as you look down at the golden cake sitting at the edge of the table. In the past, you baked mochi for your family, lemon ricotta cake for Taweret, blueberry cake for Steven, and rocky road for Marc. There were so many layers to who he is, and you hope one day, you could bake Jake a sweet tiramisu.

The moon was high in the sky by the time Jake opened the passenger door for you to take you home. Not a single cloud was in sight, and the stars twinkled like pearls of light above you. 

It truly was a beautiful evening. When Taweret arrived, her face lit up like the rising dawn. Without a second thought, she pulled you and Jake into her embrace. Your eyes began to mist when you felt a few drops of her tears fall onto your blouse, but you smiled warmly at her as Jake kissed her forehead and told her how much he loved her. You have only known Taweret for a short amount of time, but you were already fond of her and looked up to her as a mother figure.

Smiles, laughter, and memories were shared over dinner. As the three of you finished his koshari, Taweret spoke about her favorite childhood memories. You listened intently as she recalled not only her childhood, but her “wild youth” from running around with her girlfriends in Cairo and arguing with the university boys and rival sorority sisters. The three of you laughed until your ribs ached, your cheeks sore from smiling, and your tummy full from the warmth and love poured into the food that was shared. 

And to your surprise, Taweret loved the lemon ricotta birthday cake. She patted your cheek affectionately as you served her the first slice with a gentle and warm smile on her face. 

“Thank you, darling,” she beamed, “you always make the sweetest cakes.”

As you are about to thank her, Jake leaned in beside her, a knowing smile and wink as he sung the highest praises for you. 

“She baked everything with love,” he told her, and your cheeks instantly heated at his kind words. “That’s her secret ingredient.”

Jake only smiled at you as you looked down at the yellow cake on your plate, hoping to find some solace on the finely dusted sugar sitting on top of your masterpiece. You barely heard them speak over the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears and the warmth kissing at your soft cheeks. This was not the first time Jake complimented your strengths, so why are you suddenly shy and bashful like a schoolgirl?

You vaguely recalled the last time you felt like this. Before you left for Singapore, you remembered sitting at a picnic bench with Marc as his way of bidding you bon voyage. He carried the picnic basket over to the bench and helped you arrange the pieces on the table. 

“Since I’m also helping out with their social media and marketing, I might as well start practicing how to take the best pictures and videos for advertising,” you remarked as you finished taking pictures of the set-up. You had a blanket draped over the table with minimal cutlery and accessories. “Don’t you think?”

Marc chuckled beside you as you put your phone in your bag. You would edit the photos when you get home and send them to your cousin later for her to critique. “I thought your generation was tech savvy and grew up on the internet?”

“I’m on the cusp and was fortunate that the internet was still starting out. It wasn’t as crazy as it is now. Besides, I don’t have many social media handles for a reason,” you answered, “I don’t want people from high school finding me.” 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Why not?”

“I closed that chapter in my life. When I go to my high school reunion years from now, I want everyone to be surprised to see how much I’ve matured and grown up,” you sighed wistfully, imagining a romantic moment in your future reunion. “If they have any difficulty in recognizing their classmate, then I shall be the most sophisticated woman in the high school gymnasium.”

Your high school days were not the worst, but they were not the greatest, either. Your teenage days were not that far behind you, but you still had so much to look forward to in the years to come. 

An amused smile shined on your friend’s face as he leaned forward and patted a piece of your hair. 

“You are already a beautiful, intelligent, and sophisticated young woman,” he complimented you with a playful tap on your nose. “You will be the belle of the ball.”

But the days and nights you spent with Marc were long gone. Deep down, you grieved the chapter of your life where you were by his side. You convinced yourself into thinking the two of you were fated to be together for the rest of your lives, but life had its own way of cutting that invisible string you deluded yourself was tied between your fingers. The dried daffodils in your wastebasket was the evidence to the end of your fantasies.

Yet, the universe had a strange way of bringing things full circle. As you bury the thoughts of Marc aside, a sense of déjà vu washes over you with your heart feeling as hopeful as that night when Jake first found you on the steps outside of his apartment. It was odd to think that in the two years you spent away from home, Jake rarely passed your mind. 

Now, your thoughts gravitated towards him. The ghost of his touch lingered from when he brushed away the flour on your cheek, and his praise echoed in your ears like a distant lullaby. It was as if your heart would burst from your chest with each moment you replayed in your mind and you wondered if you could trust yourself to open up again. 

Before you could entertain that thought, the sound of his voice breaks the silence. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Jake glances over at you with a small smile, one gloved hand on the steering wheel, the other adjusting the rear view mirror. “I know it was a short notice.”

You smile reassuringly at him from the passenger side. “It was no problem, thank you for inviting me. I’m happy that we were able to celebrate her special day.”

You do not see Taweret often, but after tonight, you promise yourself that you would reach out to her more. She was such a character, and you make a note to give her extra delicacies you create in the future, especially if it involves lemon ricotta.

Jake grins at you as he stops at the stoplight, his voice light and airy. 

“She adores you and talks about you like you hung the moon.” He spares you a glance with a gentle smile. “And she loved every bit of your cake.”

“Oh—” your cheeks grow warm at his words. The thought of Taweret talking about you so sweetly made your heart swell, especially when you were so worried that her birthday cake was plain. 

He chuckles softly. “If it’s okay to ask, when did you start baking?”

You think for a moment as the two of you watch a few college students cross the street. “I’ve always had a sweet tooth, but growing up, I did not like American candy as much. It was always too sweet, and sometimes I felt like throwing up when I had cake. Nothing tasted like the snacks and sweets I would get from the Asian supermarket.”

You smile fondly as you remember your childhood. Growing up, there was not an Asian supermarket near your neighborhood. Most weekends, you dragged behind your parents as they bought their groceries at big retailers, and the only times you grew excited were when they either brought you to the local bodegas so you could pet the owner’s guard dogs (who were surprisingly gentle with children), or the Asian markets that were out of town. It was only until high school when they established one a few blocks away and within walking distance, and you were finally able to grab your favorite Meiji snacks. 

“I often had too much time on my hands during the summer breaks, so I experimented in the kitchen. My mom never liked baking, but I saved up to buy some supplies, watched tutorials on YouTube, and even chatted with my cousin for ideas,” you laugh lightly. “It started when I was in middle school when we had a bake sale for fundraising, and I fell in love with it since.”

The light turns green, and Jake nods as he follows along.

“What would you say is your favorite to bake? Or, what would you say is your specialty?”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his question. It is not often someone asks about your favorites, let alone your specialty. You are so used to taking requests and baking for others based on their favorites, but rarely did someone ask about yours. 

“Strawberry cake,” you answer, thinking about the colorful pink hue of the cakes you made in the past. “Especially with buttercream.”

“Like strawberry shortcake?”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s easy to confuse the two based on their names, but strawberry shortcake is different since that’s shortbread with strawberries on top. Strawberry cake—”

“I know,” he laughs with a slight shake of his head. “I meant the character.”

Oh. Oh!

Heat envelopes your face at the thought. You adored Strawberry Shortcake as a little girl and collected the books, plushies, stickers, almost anything with your favorite freckled heroine. Even though she is in the arms of another child, you remember your Strawberry Shortcake doll  that you used to carry with you everywhere with her apron smelling just like freshly cut strawberries. 

When you did not respond, Jake immediately tried to correct himself. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you—”

“No, not at all,” you laugh. “She was one of my favorites as a child. Being compared to her makes me happy, so thank you.”

From the corner of your eye, you notice him smile in relief. You look down at the plastic bag full of tupperwares on your lap. As you cleaned the dinner table, you did not realize that Jake prepared extra koshari for you to take home to your family in extra tupperwares. 

“And thank you for the food, too. I’ll have this for lunch tomorrow.”

He smiles at you, his voice soft. “You’re welcome.”

Life had a strange way of bringing things full circle. Filled with warmth, a sense of déjà vu washes over you with your heart feeling as light as that night when he first found you on the steps outside of his apartment. Not once, but twice he found you heartbroken, but since you returned to New York, your nights were spent with him where you would watch him from the passenger side. The wall that separated you two had begun to crumble, revealing the man dressed in white knight armor. 

The fluttering of your heart confuses you when he parks in the driveway. Your pulse echoes in your ears as he opens your door with a gloved hand outstretched towards you, and your legs begin to shake with each step you take towards your front door. Why does the warmth of his glove burn your skin? Why does he suddenly make you skittish like a frightened deer?

It must be because he touched my face, you reason with yourself when you step inside. Your parents greet him with friendly smiles, and for unknown reasons, you feel a tug on your heartstrings when he lifts his hat at you. 

As he walks away, you are left standing in the kitchen with a cold tupperware of koshari in your hands. Your parents kiss your cheek before walking up the stairs, and with each kiss, you imagine what it would feel like if Jake’s lips kissed your cheeks goodnight.

The early afternoon sunlight streams through your curtains when you wake that morning. Downstairs, you hear your father playing his favorite old songs on his speaker, the foreign language bringing you comfort and a sense of nostalgia. It was finally the weekend.

With a yawn, you force yourself out of bed and walk down the stairs. The love ballads grow louder, and you find your mother seated at the kitchen table with breakfast leftovers covered with a napkin. 

“Good morning, baby,” she greets you as you smile sleepily at her. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod and rub your eyes while taking a seat in front of her. Last night, you spent a few hours on Messenger talking to your cousin about the newest addition they added to the Mochi Flower Bakery and Cafe. While the Mochi Flower was best known for matcha mochi cake, your cousin wanted to expand the menu to keep up with their local competitors. She shared with you the different designs that were shared with the class that included floral prints and a few beloved childhood characters like Hello Kitty. A couple months ago, she took a class from a masterclass baker on how to add such delicate designs to a sponge cake, and she’s been in love with it ever since. 

Before you realized it, you were on Messenger for almost three hours. It was nearly three in the morning when you ended the call, your mind reeling from the designs she showed you. Both of your families considered opening a sister bakery in New York, and with each call you had with her over the spotty internet, the idea no longer felt like a dream, but a possibility. 

“I did,” you answer, looking at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. You did not realize it was past noon. “I haven’t slept in like this since my last semester of college.”

Your mother laughs, and you laugh along with her. The twelve hour time difference was tough, and you were honestly surprised her internet lasted that long with minimal interruptions. 

At that moment, your father walks in and greets you good morning with a soft kiss to the top of your head as he places a bowl of cut strawberries in front of you. 

Your eyes widen slightly at the vibrant hue. “Papa, did you go to the grocery store this morning? When did we have strawberries?”

Your father shakes his head. “I didn’t buy them. Your driver friend dropped them off this morning.”

Driver friend? You wonder, knowing your father often forgets the names of your friends. Did he mean Jake? You have not talked to him in a couple weeks, not since Taweret’s birthday.

“The gentleman with the hat,” your mother clarifies. “He came by this morning and dropped off a box of strawberries that he got at the farmer’s market. He said it was for you.” 

Your heart skips a beat as she hands you a yellow post-it note. Across the page, you memorize the straight lines of Jake’s handwriting, softly tilted in black ink.

For your strawberry cake - J

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you so much for your support! The idea of Conejita and White Knight!Jake has been floating around in my head for about a year, and with time, they finally came to fruition. Special thanks to @soft-girl-musings for listening to my ideas and late night texts on Discord. My laptop has been out of commission as of late, so I was unfortunately unable to post this sooner, but it's finally here!

To be honest, this series started when I was quarantined with COVID (part 1 was written when I had it the first time, part 2 the second time I had COVID, go figure lol). It makes me so happy to see that you have grown fond of conejita as well. I am a slow writer, and I want to thank everyone of you for your patience and support.

Originally it was going to be a trilogy, but since I am notorious for writing long fics, this series will most likely be four parts instead! I have a couple more characters I want to introduce. If you want to continue being on the taglist, please let me know. Stay tuned for updates and any future fics! I have a few more I want to put out this summer 🤍

Love, Celeste

[mistressofduskanddawn]

Wines for the Daedric Princes

Azura: Light rose and sweetened whites, especially gewürztraminer, for its lovely rose scent and taste.

Boethiah: red light bodied wines that remind one of spilled blood; cabernet sauvignon and pinot noir.

Clavius Vile: wines of deeper nature and deception, a buttery chardonnay or meaty sweet port, complex blends and vintages unseen yet a deal for what they may be.

Hermaeus Mora: natural wines in which their secrets are hidden, you will never know how the wine went through its fermentation.

Hircine: natural wines, made from wild undomesticated grapes within the wilderness. The hunt for them alone is one of his pursuits.

Ithelia: obscure, indigenous wines that fathered the modern wine world yet remain locked and lost to time. Gouais blanc and other such forgotten yet vital varieties.

Jyggalag: traditional wines, bordeauxs and such, that invoke the order and tradition of old world wines.

Malacath: Table wines, those of the lower class, longstanding for their value. Wines enjoyed with food, considered weak yet have been a table of human culture for ages.

Mehrunes Dagon: Syrah and burnt wines, wines made from the regional smoke that lingers within the bottle and upon the tongue.

Mephala: Wines of controversy and disguise, such as a purple pinot noir or the market-changing jackson Chardonnay. Cold-hardy hybrid wines as well, such as Chambourcin, that seek to change the market itself.

Meridia: Bright wines, light and full of life, such as a cold region chardonnay or vigonier. Sparkling wines as well, brimming with light and air, such as prosecco,

Molag Baal: brutal, tannic wines, such as Cabernet Franc, the colour of blood and barely drinkable, begetting suffering for the drinker.

Namira: Old wines, sherries and noble rot wines, filled with age and decay.

Nocturnal: blueberry wines that invoke the night sky, full bodied reds made to invoke mystery such as petite syrah.

Peryite: noble rot wines, saturnes and such, made from the botrytis bunch rot in such a way that a wine become dried of water and therefore sweet.

Sanguine: All wines, truly, but especially those of higher ABV meant to draw in indulgence.

Sheogorath: wines of chaos. peeps wine and other such creatures.

Vaermina: Muscats and sweet wines, to lure one into a drink yet end up blacked out due to overindulgence, the slow draw into more until sleep.

[eeboshmeebo]

🍪Char'cute'rie🫖

🧀

You browsed through the various cheeses and dried meats the store had available. Smoked gouda was good, but not complex enough despite it being savory and strong. Perhaps a goat cheese? A bit gamey, but also soft, gently tangy and easy to pair with or spread onto vegetables and crackers.

Maybe a sharp cheddar. Tangy, salty, with an aged bitterness that mellowed it all out. Not to mention the array of dried meats! To counter such salty, rich flavors, a refreshingly light mozzarella or brie would pair better.

Or maybe..!

"Darling, I know you really like choosing the ingredients yourself, but you shouldn't bend over like that for so long. It isn't good for your back."

You didn't jump, since he had an arm wrapped around your shoulder for quite a while now. You turned to look at him, a fond smile on your face as you set down a packaged piece of blueberry goat cheese back into the store's display.

"Says you, Mono-bon. Isn't your arm fully asleep by now?"

"Perhaps. But I trust that my beloved, gorgeous armrest wouldn't mind."

"Five dates, and finally a promotion to armrest? Awww, I'm flattered."

After a small period of silence, both of you started giggling. You leaned into his touch and he moved closer to you, nuzzling your shoulder.

"This feels like I'm getting dogfood shoved into my mouth." Rin grumbled as he grabbed any cheese and meat that caught his eye suitably.

"You could've split up and gone with Ibara and Shishida instead of being a third wheel, y'know!" You called out to him, a grin on your face while Monoma continued to nuzzle into your shoulder.

"Bleh. Don't remind me, I'll just go do that now."

"Pff-heh. Okay, see you later."

Both you and Monoma finally settled on some aged salami and a few cheeses you trusted his taste in. After browsing a bit more, a suitable herb garnish and dried fruits along with fresh ones were chosen as well as a few choice unsalted nuts.

At the self-checkout, however, you got an idea.

"Hey, how does some browsing at the farmer's market sound? We have some extra time to use, after all, and there's baked goods over there."

Monoma contemplated that for a few moments, his hands scanning the items in the basket he had brought before he finally said something.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty nice now that I think about it. Also, nope!"

You were so close to finally paying, but he tapped his card against the screen and paid before you had a chance to even swipe yours.

"Aww, no faaaiiiir." You whined, pocketing your own card in favor of complaining lightheartedly.

"You can spend your money at the farmer's market later, alright sugar?"

"Mm-hmm."

And so, to the farmer's market you both went.

🫖

You looked around the market, Monoma's hand held in your own. You both walked through the market searching for anything that'd catch either his or your interest before you both were standing in front of a beekeeper's stand.

"Ooh, do you think these little charms are handmade? They're so adorable!"

You gushed over the small bee charms that were on display next to the honey. Small and shiny with big, shimmering eyes and wonky little blue wings.

"They're kind of cute. Lumpy, but cute." He murmured, though he was perhaps eying them a bit too much to sound so disinterested.

Immediately, you slapped some cash on the table that you had sneakily counted out earlier and took two matching bees.

"Wha-!?" "You said that I could pay this time~!"

The look he got on his face was both sour and sweet, like a cherry. On second thought, you could've sworn there was someone selling cherries in a stand up ahead...

"Hnnnn."

Monoma made a sound like he was grievously wronged (was sent to detention for harassing class A again) when he saw that you were ignoring him in favor of looking at other things. You let out a breath of endearment as you clipped one of the charms to his clothes and kissed his cheek.

"I was just thinking about cherries, hun. How about we go get some for dessert?"

"Mmnnnn... sure! I just want an extra 'treat' when we get home later."

"Sure, sure. I'll make as many treats as you want later."

He pouted, since he felt that his message didn't get across properly, but he let you drag him along to the (and buy) cherries anyways and soon the smile returned to his face.

"These cherries remind me of you, somewhat." You said, picking up one by the stem and examining the yellow and blush-red fruit closely.

"Oh, really? Well, I can tell you that I'm better than some bite-sized fruit-"

"Nom~"

Monoma froze up as you nibbled his earlobe, tracing your tongue behind his ear before pulling back and eating the cherry you had in your hand earlier.

"In public???"

"Yep, in public. I can't let you get jealous over a fruit so easily, y'know~?"

He huffed while holding his ear, but the sparkle in his blue granite-hued eyes showed how pleased he was with your sudden tease. In retaliation, he wrapped an arm around your waist.

"How'd you like that for teasing, you little macaron?"

"Nnnn... I say that I like this very much, croquembouche."

"Croquembouche? Well, I'm definitely much more than a pile of sugary pastry, I assure you!"

You teased each other back and forth with smiles on your faces, walking out of the market with a bag with each person before Monoma abruptly stopped and pulled you over, for once, to look at a potter's stall... or, what was supposed to be a potter's stall.

The potter who seemed to also be the stall owner wasn't there and there was nobody there to watch over and sell the goods. At least the prices were visibly labelled next to the various cups and bowls. Seems like the stall owner trusted the other stall owners to prevent anyone from stealing.

"Hn."

You both made eye contact with each other, silently agreeing on an activity you both did when presented with a lot of options.

You put one hand over Monoma's eyes and he put one over your eyes, covering each other's sight before reaching out and grabbing one cup on the table each before the reveal.

You had chosen a cup that felt the best against your hand. It vividly reminded you of Monoma, who had chosen one that was just the right weight and glaze in his hand when his eyes were closed, that reminded him of you.

"...we're definitely buying these."

A quick decision. Looking at the prices on the cups, they were a small luxury but also high-quality, so you left the money on the table (and enjoyed Monoma's disgruntled look as you did) before leaving the farmer's market.

Your friends (Monoma's classmates) were waiting in a car. Apparently, they were searching for you after Shishida confessed that he couldn't find you and him in the store anymore. Oops.

🫕

At the dorms, you washed the cherries and cut them into halves to take out the pits before arranging them on the charcuterie board.

A perfect blend of red, yellow, orange, pink, white, beige, brown and green was arranged on the board. Fruits, nuts, salted and dried meats, garnish herbs, and milk chocolate chips sprinkled across the board itself with a small container for the toothpicks.

Someone took one of the toothpicks and also took a bite of cheese.

"Hey, aren't you on a diet?"

You turned to face Monoma with a slight glare, taking off your gloves and pinching his cheek that had gotten noticeably rounder ever since you started dating him.

"Ow! Yeah, but a little cheese won't hurt anybody! Besides, calories aren't real, just science fiction."

He winced a bit after you pulled your hand back and rubbed the place on his cheek that still stung. His eyes teared up a bit and his lower lip started to tremble...

"...fine, you can have some more along with the 'treat' I promised you."

Immediately, Monoma's teary eyes and pitiful expression went away like a dandelion seed in the wind as he took a few more pieces. The toothpick he had now looked like a mini kebab that he constantly nibbled on.

You could kind of see the comparison between him and a Roborovski dwarf hamster from how he was nibbling on it. Cute.

...

You kissed him on the cheek where a small mark had started to redden. He quickly lit up like a lava lamp and almost dropped his snack before he ate the last of it.

"Time for that treat I promised you, Monoma~!"

"Wha-?"

He followed you to his dorm, his mind working furiously at a speed definitely not used for studying before his eyes widened. His realization came too late, however, and you dragged him into his dorm before locking the door behind you both...

💝

Kuroiro bitterly chewed on some cherries, having seen Monoma and his partner run off to their dorms and leaving only half of the charcuterie board's contents left for the class.

"Isn't he supposed to be on a diet? He's always off eating some fatty food of some sort with his... ugh."

Awase patted Shihai on the back, eating a chunk of cheese that he had picked up earlier.

"He's probably working off those calories right now! With his partner! And... and..."

Awase trailed off as he realized the many possibilities that Monoma might be doing something that only someone with a partner can do, with you.

"Just shut up at this point, you dumbasses. You're just gonna make yourselves feel more like single dogs the more you guys talk." Kamakiri grumbled, stabbing a piece of a cherry with one of his blades and almost swallowing it whole if not for the fact he needed to chew first.

"Rin taught me that, by the way. The term 'single dog'. He's pretty good at insulting people when it gets down to it."

And with that, Awase and Kuroiro settled back to snacking before Kendo caught them to scold them both about snacking so late at night.

🏵️

[Bonus]

The potted plant opened its eye discreetly, surveying the market for his friend.

"He can't keep doing this. Really, what if the cash and goods were stolen?"

He had hidden the money under his flowerpot a long while ago for safekeeping. Long leaves sure were a blessing! Though, he finally caught sight of his friend (and his friend's two children) soon after.

"...oh well. He's having fun. It's not like I can stop him."

He closed his singular eye afterwards, taking a nap now that he was assured that he wasn't left behind. Again.

[rosechata]

lately my diet has consisted of roadside stand and farmer’s market fare such as pounds of sweet cherries + figs + giant blueberries and fresh labneh + oregano-infused extra virgin olive oil slathered on sun-dried tomato ciabatta and full-fat sheep’s milk yogurt topped with spoonfuls of raw honey and quail eggs with calabaza blossom + elk caldito and i’ve never felt more energized but also it’s almost tomato season so things can only get even better from here

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #173

I decided that today is another day of resting, mostly because I have a video game to play with M, at least for now. We played more Necesse, and today I actually have a picture to show you of the garden I built…

...It's actually bigger than this now; it's 5 rows wide. And soon, it will be 6 rows wide. In addition to all the crops that come from seeds, I thought to try to include the berry bushes and the trees, too. The 16 squares are, from left to right and top to bottom: sugar beets, wheat, cabbage, tomatoes, corn, rice, carrots, potatoes, eggplant, chili peppers, pumpkins, strawberries and coffee, some kind of fictional ice flower, sunflowers, some kind of fictional fire flower, and mushrooms.

...Since taking that picture, strawberries and coffee have their own separate fields. I also started a field full of some fictional cave plant, a field of onions, and a field that is half filled with blueberries, while the other half is filled with blackberries.

I still need to build spaces for the trees. So far, we have apples, bananas, coconuts, and lemons.

...And yes, I am aware that all of these fruits and vegetables grow in wildly different climates, hahaha! But games like these tend to ignore the climate factor, because otherwise it becomes too cumbersome to do anything.

The garden is a lot bigger than what my settlers need. But this just means that they'll never go hungry. And it also means that we can sell the extra for coin to buy other stuff with.

Oh right!! I should probably show you the houses I built for my settlers! Here:

...You'll notice I've got sheep and cows and little piggies, too!

Little piggies... I am reminded of a little nursery rhyme in my part of the world that parents (in my case, my grandparents) sometimes say to their children while playing with their toes; you point to each toe in order, starting with the biggest one, and you say each line for each toe:

This little piggy went to the market. This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. This little piggy had none. And this little piggy cried, "wee, wee, wee!" all the way home!

...I wonder if you have that rhyme in your world.

Hey, Sephiroth? What kinds of nursery rhymes do the people of your world say to children, anyway? Is that even a thing in your world? And... given your own upbringing, is it something you ever experienced? Or is it maybe something you've only ever seen in passing, done by the families in the places where you were stationed? Do you know any nursery rhymes? And if you do, which ones do you like best?

I like The Itsy Bitsy Spider. And not just because I think spiders are very cute (because they ARE very cute, especially tarantulas!! everyone else is allowed to be wrong!), but because it's a lesson in persistence - behold:

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out! Out came the sun and dried up all the rain, and the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.

...That one's got a melody and a whole hand movement thing that happens. But the important bit here is that this spider is undeterred from its goal. It tried and then it failed because of forces outside of its control. And then it got right back up and tried again. The song does not tell us the result, but I like to think that it was successful the second time.

I also kinda like this one:

A-tisket, a-tasket, a green and yellow basket. I wrote a letter to my friend and on the way I dropped it, I dropped it, I dropped it, and on the way I dropped it. A little boy, he picked it up and put it in his pocket.

...I have no idea what a "tisket" or a "tasket" are. But it has a cheerful little melody. Also, I tend to drop and lose things a lot, so I guess I kind of find this one relatable, hahaha! The notion that someone might come along and pick it up and return it to me later is kind of nice.

You know what, Sephiroth? If any of these letters get "dropped" somehow on their way to you, I don't mind if a little boy picks them up and puts them in his pocket for a bit of courage and strength - especially if that little boy is you. Maybe if you like what I write to you, then you can somehow send them along to your past self; even with Glenn and Matt and Lucia, he still seems a little lonely, doesn't he?

Well anyway. It becomes late, and I've not done a whole lot today, so I suppose I should stop writing here before I start rambling.

I love you. Please try to imitate the persistent spider from the little rhyme and rise up from your knees every time you fall down. And if you need a hand up, mine will always be here, waiting for you to take it.

Please stay safe out there. Please make good, kind, and gentle choices. I'll write to you again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[wistful-giselle]

how are your days going? tells us a bit… you know we love your diary entries for that prose of you ☁️

diary of late; late winter into early spring ~

it has been an age since I logged a digital diary entry. what are my days like? they are filled with writing — self-indulgent essays on ceramics, white dresses, dream languages. anaïs nin, jeffrey eugenides, anna kavan. reading, too, for nothing but utter pleasure — the birth of venus, lud-in-the-mist, woolgathering. leonora carrington’s tarot.

I escaped to the seaside with a friend — picked shells and jewel-like stones, threw starfish back into the water, read next to the fire in the evenings, made a nighttime shrine at the altar of a ruined abbey. I have been making many shrines: consecrating spaces, honouring loved ones, carving out the mundane. making offerings from the market. lighting candles for those passed.

lots & lots of wanderings — through fields, through cemeteries, through woodland. I catch sunlight when I can. I practice pottery, too — staining hands and face an eerie white, creating strange, crude fae creatures with limbs that snap unexpectedly.

my friends live by dinner parties — I brought white peaches to one & red wine to another. dried cranberries for imbolc, of course. for an angel’s birthday I baked a walnut cake and covered it in icing & taper candles & little flowers (poisonous & edible — hellebores, primroses, violets). I eat other meals with my mother, who only eats food from the earth — I feel like a fairy, picking away at the soft flesh of raspberries and blueberries. food that is good for the soul.

I am over-saturated with art — I returned to paris for rodin and gustave moreau, will return to amsterdam for vermeer.

I was sickly for a long time, and lonely. I lost my mind, a little bit, at one point — a true madwoman in a white dress. I am trying now to remain above the earth, like persephone, to grow with the spring. to be conscious and grateful of my aliveness, of my breath and body and world. I refuse passivity, I say! I refuse rot and paralysis! I refuse to not express adoration in all that I do!

that is a glimpse into my days ♡

[tinyshe]

Garden Report & Frugal Living 23.08.24

I got the ag cloth over the grow box but not before the sparrows ate all the beautiful, lush lettuce seedlings; I replanted now ... and wait.

The blueberries are coming off a nibble at a time (us, birds and other creatures).

We may get a crop of elderberries and another crop of the yellow/autumn raspberries but very light. I'm getting hot about the creature that is walking right down the row/pulling canes down/attempted snappage as it is destroying the possibility of next crop. I've not had this problem before so I'm clueless as to what/who I'm getting mad at!

The cherry plums are done. Many went into the dehydrator but more went into tummies. There is a lapse in fruit now as we wait for the apples to ripen fully but hopefully not just suddenly rot in warm days/cool night. We are suppose to get some winds that could create problems for the heavy laden apple branches. We have some propped up while we wait. Hopefully there will not be hard rains but no rains mean electrical storms.

The haws are ripening and are near ready. I'm tempted to run them through the foley, mix with applesauce and make little disc/ digestive wafers. Still thinking about it ...

I need to dump the potato barrel and harvest instead of just fishing around for dinner. Once it is harvested, I can ammend it and set it up to go through the winter. Nothing came out of the bed under the elderberries as they got dug up repeatedly by the night creatures.

The berries we are/have harvesting (gooseberry/blackberry) are going in the freezer and then designated to be mushed with last years applesauce for fruit leather. I leave the seeds in 1) to slow the gobbling, 2) because I'm lazy. Fruit leather has no added sugars of any type; no perservatives, can be used as dried fruit snack in pack, slivers snipped into cakes, muffins, quick breads or even dropped into a cup of black tea for a hint of fruit (much like Russian/ Slav use of jams/jellies dallop in tea).

Poor Alcott is in full moult! I always feel for her because she is timid and moulting makes her paranoid. I try to make sure there is extra nutrional needs during this season in their life because moulting is hard on a bird and Alcott insist on laying eggs through the process so she is double dipping on the health scale.

Since my garden is so poor/not producing much except for the blessed nettles, I watch the markets to get produce on sale. Everybody and their mother is doing the same thing. There is limited stock that is being brought to market and whatdoes make it, looks like second quality. Even with that, people are buying up on the first and second days. Such a good incentive to get out of complacency and get growing.

Sprouts: i haven't been doing counter top gardening because the humidity and heat from dehydrator. I do need to note stock, purchase and rotate.

Scapping out too worn shirts (looking for quilting and craft material). Other gently worn items are going to community free box exchange -- its school season and with winter coming, people are evaluating winter wear.

Winter is coming but there is still things that can be done like planting a winter garden -- if not for your need of the crop, for the fun & joy of it and then donate the produce to your local food bank, and elders or a family in need. Do it! Double dipping on the joy of gardening scale!!

[atplblog]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] From the brand A market leader in coffee capsules, Coffeeza has reshaped the coffee experience in India since 2018, and has now expanded its presence to the US and UAE. What sets the brand apart is its unique and wide range of AA/AAA specialty coffee blends sourced from top Indian farms. Whether you prefer the convenience of capsules, the richness of roasted and ground coffee, or the simplicity of portable drip bags, we have something to delight every one. Our Product Range Specialty AA/ AAA Coffee All our blends are curated with only AA or AAA-grade specialty coffee to deliver the best-tasting cup. What makes our coffee unique? Experience the difference with our brand's specialty AA blends, offering a rich tapestry of classic, flavored, Indian specialty and functional coffees. Delight in our 100% Arabica flavored coffees, where each cup is a journey through a paradise of unique flavors. At our European-standard facility, a highly experienced team of SCA-certified coffee roasters and cuppers curate the finest coffee blends that embody excellence. Intenso is a full-bodied blend, crafted to deliver a long-lasting & rich flavour with notes of blueberries & strong dark chocolate. The aftertaste is lingering & rich, displaying subtle hints of dried tropical fruits. Ingredients - Premium Roasted Ground Coffee Roast Profile - Medium-Dark Roast Taste Notes - Dark Chocolate, Blueberries and Dried Dates Intensity - A medium-dark roasted blend that has a high body with an intensity of 10/10 Brewing Instructions - It is important to note that unlike Instant, coffee grounds do not dissolve in water, so they must be brewed with a suitable equipment like a French Press, Moka Pot, Espresso Machine, Aeropress, Pour-Over, etc. When you purchase our ground coffee blends, you can choose from a variety of grind sizes to suit your equipment. To maintain freshness, the ground coffee bags are securely sealed and feature a one-way valve. This allows you to enjoy a delicious and fresh cup of coffee always. [ad_2]

[credenceresearchdotblog]

The Blueberry Ingredients Market is projected to grow from USD 2,282.9 million in 2024 to approximately USD 3,922.44 million by 2032, with a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 7.00%. The blueberry ingredients market has seen a remarkable rise in recent years, driven by growing consumer awareness of the health benefits of blueberries, their versatility in food and beverage products, and a surge in demand for natural ingredients in various applications. Blueberries, rich in antioxidants, vitamins, and essential nutrients, have become a sought-after component in health-conscious diets globally. As a result, the market for blueberry-derived ingredients, including powders, concentrates, purees, and extracts, has expanded considerably. This article examines the key factors influencing the blueberry ingredients market, its trends, challenges, and growth prospects.

Browse the full report https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/blueberry-ingredients-market

Market Overview

The blueberry ingredients market encompasses a range of blueberry-based products designed for use in diverse sectors such as food and beverage, pharmaceuticals, cosmetics, and nutraceuticals. These ingredients can be derived from both fresh and frozen blueberries, and come in various forms including dried, powdered, and liquid concentrates. Each form finds distinct applications depending on the product requirements and industry demands.

North America, especially the United States, holds a prominent share of the global blueberry ingredients market, attributed to extensive blueberry production in regions like Michigan, New Jersey, and Washington. However, other regions like Europe and Asia-Pacific have shown substantial growth in demand, particularly for blueberry powder and extract-based products. Increased health awareness and an expanding middle class with disposable incomes contribute significantly to the market’s growth in these regions.

Key Growth Drivers

1. Health Benefits and Nutritional Value: Blueberries are packed with essential nutrients such as vitamins C and K, dietary fiber, and powerful antioxidants like anthocyanins, known for their anti-inflammatory properties. These nutrients have been linked to several health benefits, including improved heart health, cognitive function, and digestive health. As consumers increasingly focus on preventive health and wellness, blueberries have found their place as a key ingredient in health-centric products.

2. Rising Demand for Superfoods: Blueberries are considered a "superfood," a category of food with exceptionally high nutritional value. The superfood trend has expanded globally, driving demand for blueberry ingredients in foods and beverages that aim to cater to a health-conscious audience. Whether in smoothies, protein bars, supplements, or functional drinks, blueberries are a popular choice. The demand for these products is also being fueled by increased adoption of plant-based diets, where consumers seek fruit-based alternatives to synthetic supplements.

3. Product Versatility and Innovation: One of the strengths of blueberry ingredients is their versatility. Blueberry powder, for example, is used in everything from baked goods and cereals to skincare products and dietary supplements. Blueberry juice concentrate, on the other hand, is a preferred ingredient in beverages, sauces, and dairy products. This versatility has encouraged innovation, with companies continuously exploring new product formulations to meet the varied preferences of consumers.

4. Expansion of the Cosmetics and Personal Care Industry: The cosmetics and personal care industry is another significant driver for blueberry ingredients. With a focus on natural and organic ingredients, blueberries are frequently incorporated into skincare products due to their antioxidant properties. These properties help fight free radicals, reduce signs of aging, and improve skin elasticity, making blueberry extracts popular in creams, serums, and masks.

Challenges in the Blueberry Ingredients Market

Despite its growth, the blueberry ingredients market faces several challenges. The cost of blueberries is relatively high due to seasonal variability and the costs associated with preserving the fruit's quality during processing. Additionally, blueberries are perishable, and preserving their nutritional integrity through drying or extraction processes can be technically challenging and costly.

Another challenge is the limited cultivation area for blueberries. While blueberries are grown in many parts of the world, certain regions have a more suitable climate, which can restrict supply and drive prices up during the off-season. Additionally, climate change poses a threat to the blueberry harvest, as unpredictable weather patterns impact production levels and quality.

Future Prospects and Market Trends

The blueberry ingredients market is expected to grow robustly in the coming years, driven by several key trends. Firstly, the rise in clean label products is promoting demand for natural fruit ingredients, with blueberry standing out due to its recognized health benefits. As consumers become more aware of artificial additives and synthetic ingredients, they are increasingly choosing products with simple, recognizable ingredients like blueberry powder or concentrate.

Another trend is the surge in demand for functional beverages. From energy drinks to probiotic-rich smoothies, beverages enriched with blueberry ingredients offer a health appeal that resonates with modern consumers. Additionally, blueberry-infused plant-based and dairy-free products are expected to grow in popularity as veganism and lactose-free diets continue to rise.

Key Player Analysis:

Ingredion Incorporated

AGRANA Beteiligungs AG

Dohler GmbH

Sensient Technologies Corporation

Givaudan SA

Tianjin Jianfeng Natural Product R&D Co., Ltd.

FutureCeuticals

Scenic Fruit Company

Atlantic Blueberry Company, Inc.

Jasper Wyman & Son, Inc.

Segmentations:

By Application

Pharmaceutical

Food And Beverage

Nutraceutical/Dietary Supplement

By Ingredient Type

Frozen Blueberry

Dried Blueberry

Blueberry Juice Concentrate

Blueberry Puree

Other Ingredient Types

By Geography

North America

US

Canada

Mexico

Europe

Germany

France

UK

Italy

Spain

Rest of Europe

Asia Pacific

China

Japan

India

South Korea

South-east Asia

Rest of Asia Pacific

Latin America

Brazil

Argentina

Rest of Latin America

Middle East & Africa

GCC Countries

South Africa

Browse the full report https://www.credenceresearch.com/report/blueberry-ingredients-market

Contact:

Credence Research

Please contact us at +91 6232 49 3207

Email: sales@credenceresearch.com

Website: www.credenceresearch.com 

[downtoearthmarkets]

It’s hard to boo-lieve that Halloween is almost upon us, given the extended stretch of warm and sunny weather we’ve enjoyed so far this fall. If these glorious conditions continue, we’re certainly in for more meteorological treats and fewer tricks! But no matter what the temperatures say, the calendar doesn’t budge, and autumn is already in full swing. So, to help get you in the Halloween spirit before next Thursday, here are some superbly spooky recipes whose ingredients are easy to shop for in the farmers market this weekend. Return of the Mummy Apples Fall is prime apple season so it’s no wonder that apples of all kinds feature heavily at Halloween hoedowns. From candied apples to apple bobbing, shiny apples give glowing pumpkins a run for their money in late October. Halloween’s favorite fruit offers a refreshingly healthy alternative to the ubiquitous sweets that are collected in droves this time of year. So, lure your kids away from their neighborhood candy haul with these perfectly petrifying apple mummies that take no time to pare and prepare. Quick tips 

Choose apples that don’t oxidize and turn brown quite as quickly such as Pink Ladies and Honeycrisps. Avoid Granny Smiths which tend to turn brown almost immediately. 

Serve your apple mummies with a fun fruit dip to add extra appeal to these tasty tomb dwellers.

Ingredients (for eight mummies)

4 Central Valley Farm Honeycrisp or Pink Lady apples

16 mini chocolate chips, halved Central Valley Farm seedless grapes, raisins or dried blueberries

Creamy Peanut Butter & Yogurt Dip Ingredients (Yields 1 cup) 

½ cup plain yogurt 

¼ cup natural, creamy peanut butter 

5 tablespoons farmers market maple syrup 

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

Cut apples in half vertically and carefully remove their cores. 

Starting at one edge, use a vegetable peeler to remove haphazard strips of apple peel. 

Lay each apple half on a plate or serving tray and press two eyes into the apple in an area where the peel has been removed. If you're using mini chocolate chips, push the pointy end in first. If you're using raisins, grapes or dried blueberries, use the paring knife to make a tiny divot in the apple where you want each eye to go, and then gently press the eyes in.  

Spooky Spider Deviled Eggs Take another welcome break from all the cavity causing candy with deliciously devious, devilishly delectable, spooky spider deviled eggs. They’re sure to be a sinisterly savory sensation at your Halloween hoopla. Ingredients

6 Central Valley Farm or Great Joy Family Farm hardboiled eggs, halved 

3 tablespoons mayonnaise

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon Arlotta Food Studio vinegar

⅛ teaspoon salt

⅛ teaspoon pepper

Horman's Pickles pitted black or green olives

Instructions 

Cut eggs in half lengthwise. Slip out yolks and mash.

Stir in mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, vinegar, salt, and pepper.

Refill egg white halves with the yolk mixture.

Cut whole olive in half lengthwise.

Put one half on mashed yolk for the spider’s body.

Thinly slice the other half of the olive for the spiders’ legs. Put four legs on each side.

Scary Black Rice and Butternut Squash Salad  The colors orange and black have long been the hallmarks of Halloween because they symbolize the duality of life and death, light and darkness, and the transition from summer to winter. Black represents death, darkness and night while orange represents the warmth of life, bonfires and the bounty of the harvest season. Orange is also the color of pumpkins, which are a traditional harvest item. Embrace the vibrantly dramatic contrasts of orange and black in this colorful Halloween salad that is as nutritious as it is festive. Ingredients for the dressing: 

2 ½ tablespoons Arlotta Food Studio olive oil

1 tablespoon Arlotta Food Studio balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon spice mix of chipotle pepper, chili flakes, cumin seed, sea salt, oregano and cilantro 

1 teaspoon farmers market maple syrup

Pinch of salt

Ingredients for the black rice & butternut salad: 

1 cup Great Joy Family Farm black rice

2 cups Great Joy Family Farm chicken broth

1 medium size Halal Pastures Farm butternut squash

1 Halal Pastures Farm yellow onion, large

½ cup whole pecans, raw

⅓ cup golden raisins

2 handfuls arugula from the farmstalls

Kraken Pasta with Eerie Eyeballs This spooky squid ink pasta is topped with beef ragu and macabre eyeballs to startle even the most seasoned of spooky eaters. Once you get past the fear factor, this dish makes a warming and hearty meal before heading out to trick or treat. Click here for full cooking and prep instructions. Ingredients

1 lb La Trafila Pasta squid ink pasta

1 lb Great Joy Family Farm or Halal Pastures Farm ground beef

1 tablespoon dried minced onion

1 tablespoon Italian herb seasoning mix

4 ounces Cielegine “cherry size” mozzarella

2 ounces sliced Horman's Pickles black olives

24 ounces La Trafila Pasta marinara sauce

   We wish you a spookily spectacular Halloween and look forward to seeing you at the farmers market this weekend. Costumes are optional but encouraged. Muahahaha 😊.

[neon-angels-system]

been craving sour fruits recently. have been obediently following said cravings but it is so weird. could be a lack of vitamin C or something.

I went shopping the other day and my brain just went. 'we're buying fruit.' so I went home with a lemon, a grapefruit, canned peaches, and dried apricots. I haven't tried the fresh fruit yet, but if it's watery & not very sour I will be So Sad. I picked the lemon that looked the most like the ones on the trees back home (that is, thick-skinned & knobbly), but I do not trust mass-produced fruits.

I miss my nanna's garden... fresh blueberries, strawberries, lemons, uglifruit, and mandarins all taste so much better right off the tree. the flavours are more intense, more concentrated, and storebought just can't compare. it's honestly depressing. I should really go to more farmer's markets...

[biggestsupplierr]

Exploring the Dried Berries and Dry Fruits Wholesale Market

The demand for dried berries and dry fruits has surged over recent years, driven by a global shift towards healthy snacking options and natural, nutrient-rich foods. Whether you’re a retailer, a health-conscious consumer, or a culinary enthusiast, understanding the wholesale market for these products is key to finding quality ingredients at affordable prices.

The Growing Popularity of Dried Berries and Dry Fruits

Dried berries, such as cranberries, blueberries, and goji berries, are not only packed with antioxidants but also add a natural sweetness to a variety of dishes. Likewise, dry fruits like almonds, cashews, walnuts, and raisins are essential in many cuisines and are celebrated for their high nutritional value, providing healthy fats, fiber, and essential vitamins. With the rise in popularity of plant-based diets and a growing awareness of clean eating, both dried berries and dry fruits have become pantry staples for health-conscious individuals.

Understanding the Wholesale Market

The wholesale market for dried berries and dry fruits wholesale market is vast and dynamic, with suppliers offering a wide range of products in bulk quantities. Wholesale buyers, whether grocery stores, restaurants, or food manufacturers, benefit from buying in bulk to reduce costs while ensuring a steady supply of high-demand items.

Biggest Supplier, a leading name in the wholesale market, has established itself as a trusted provider of top-quality dried berries and dry fruits. They work directly with farms and producers, ensuring the freshness and quality of each product. By sourcing from multiple regions, they are able to provide a diverse selection of items year-round, catering to various market demands and seasonal preferences.

Key Factors to Consider When Buying Wholesale

Quality: Always prioritize suppliers that guarantee the freshness and purity of their products. Dried fruits should be free from preservatives and additives whenever possible.

Pricing: Bulk purchases typically offer better pricing, but it’s crucial to compare different suppliers to ensure you are getting the best deal without compromising on quality.

Variety: A reputable supplier like Biggest Supplier will offer a wide range of dried berries and dry fruits, allowing you to cater to diverse customer tastes.

Conclusion

Whether you are a small retailer or a large-scale business, sourcing from reliable suppliers in the wholesale market is essential. Biggest Supplier stands out as a trusted name for delivering high-quality dried berries and dry fruits in bulk, offering competitive pricing, variety, and quality assurance for businesses worldwide.

[njmmr]

Dried Blueberries Market size was valued at US$ 5.75 Billion in 2023 and the total Dried Blueberries revenue is expected to grow at 6.3% through 2024 to 2030, reaching nearly US$ 8.83 Billion.

[hitmanprompts]

47 is in the market square in Marrakesh. It's a warm day. The air smells of dried bananas and a hint of coconuts.

Trope: Anger Born of Worry

Include these random words: blueberry muffin | guilt | shock

Include this line of dialogue: "I'm getting an unpleasant case of déjà vu, 47."

Hitman Prompt Generator | Hitman Prompt Meme | Smut Prompts