#Dry fruits packing machine

[imperialasociate]

Elevate your dry fruits packaging with our Rotary PFS Dry Fruits Packing Machine. Achieve freshness and efficiency using advanced technology.

[seoagency26]

Dry Fruits Packing Machine: Start Dry Fruits Packaging Business in 2024

Dry Fruits Packing Machine is a special machine specifically designed for effectively and appropriately packaging dry Fruits.

Dry Fruits are those Fruits which have been dried certainly by way of daylight or by way of dehydration which eliminates all the moisture or water content from those end result, after which we get a product full of vitamins.

Nuts and Dry Fruits hold a variety of the value this is located in clean frutis, which if we upload to our meals, can be of high-quality gain to our fitness.

Dry Fruits are in most cases used in cooking dishes and splendor merchandise. manual packaging of dry end result can be time taken, exertions price. Dry fruits Packing machine automates the packaging technique to verify accurate filling, sealing and labelling of tea in pouch or packet packaging.

Read More: Dry Fruits Packing Machine

[anmolsmsblog]

TAZLYN dry fruits cutter slicer fine PACK OF 1 smart kitchen gadgets for dry fruit chopper badam cutter machine hand nuts cutter chopper for kitchen items for gift home gadgets

Price: (as of – Details) Product Description The video showcases the product in use.The video guides you through product setup.The video compares multiple products.The video shows the product being unpacked. TIRED BY CUTTING VERY HARD DRY FRUITS??? TASMAX dry fruit cutter comes with non detachable stainless steel blade which can slice off dry fruits so easily. (kitchen tools for home kitchen…

[dcashew45]

Fully Automatic Cashew Processing Machine: A Game Changer for Your Business

In today’s competitive market, the packaging of products plays a vital role in ensuring their freshness, longevity, and appeal to consumers. The cashew industry, known for its delicious nuts and diverse applications, significantly benefits from advanced packaging technologies, particularly vacuum packing machines. This article will delve into the features, advantages, and various applications of vacuum packing machines, focusing on their crucial role in the cashew processing and packaging industry.

Understanding Vacuum Packing Machines

A vacuum packing machine is designed to remove air from packaging, sealing the product in an airtight environment. This method helps prevent oxidation, microbial growth, and moisture ingress, ultimately extending the shelf life of the packaged goods. In the context of cashew processing, vacuum packing is essential for maintaining the quality and freshness of cashew nuts.

How Vacuum Packing Works

The vacuum packing process involves several key steps:

Preparation: The cashew nuts are first prepared for packing, ensuring they are clean and dry.

Loading: The prepared cashews are placed into a vacuum-sealable bag or container.

Vacuum Sealing: The machine removes air from the bag or container, creating a vacuum environment around the cashews. This process minimizes the presence of oxygen, which is crucial for preserving freshness.

Sealing: After the air has been removed, the machine seals the packaging tightly to prevent air from re-entering.

Cooling: In some machines, the packaging may undergo a cooling process, ensuring that the integrity of the seal is maintained.

The Importance of Vacuum Packing in Cashew Processing

Vacuum packing offers numerous benefits for cashew processors and retailers:

Extended Shelf Life: By removing oxygen, vacuum packing significantly extends the shelf life of cashew nuts, ensuring they remain fresh for a more extended period.

Preservation of Flavor and Nutrients: The airtight seal prevents flavor loss and preserves essential nutrients, making the nuts more appealing to consumers.

Prevention of Spoilage: Vacuum packing inhibits the growth of mold and bacteria, reducing spoilage rates.

Enhanced Packaging Appearance: Vacuum-sealed packages provide a professional look that enhances the product's marketability.

Types of Vacuum Packing Machines

Various types of vacuum packing machines cater to different needs in the cashew processing industry:

Manual Vacuum Packing Machines: These machines require operators to perform certain functions, such as placing bags and sealing them manually. They are typically suitable for small-scale operations.

Semi-Automatic Vacuum Packing Machines: These machines offer a balance between manual and automated processes, allowing for faster packing compared to manual machines.

Automatic Vacuum Packing Machines: Fully automated machines streamline the packing process, requiring minimal human intervention. They are ideal for large-scale operations where efficiency is a priority.

Chamber Vacuum Packing Machines: These machines create a vacuum inside a chamber, accommodating multiple packages at once. They are highly efficient and suitable for bulk packaging.

External Vacuum Sealers: These machines seal vacuum bags using a nozzle and are ideal for smaller operations.

Applications of Vacuum Packing Machines in Cashew Processing

1. Cashew Packing Machine

The cashew packing machine utilizes vacuum sealing technology to package cashews efficiently. This machine is designed specifically for the cashew industry, ensuring that the nuts are packed in a way that preserves their quality and freshness.

2. Nuts Packing Machine

Vacuum packing machines also serve as nuts packing machines, accommodating various nut types. The flexibility of these machines allows processors to switch between different nut varieties without significant adjustments.

3. Dry Fruit Packing Machine

In addition to cashews, vacuum packing machines are effective for packing dry fruits. The technology helps maintain the quality of dry fruits, ensuring that they remain appealing to consumers.

4. Automatic Packing Machine

The automatic packing machine streamlines the entire packaging process, from filling to sealing. These machines are equipped with advanced technology that enhances efficiency and reduces labor costs, making them ideal for large-scale operations.

Benefits of Using Vacuum Packing Machines

1. Improved Efficiency

One of the most significant advantages of using vacuum packing machines is the increased efficiency they bring to the packaging process. Automated machines can handle large volumes of cashew nuts in a fraction of the time it would take to package them manually. This efficiency allows businesses to meet high demand without compromising quality.

2. Cost Savings

While the initial investment in vacuum packing machines may seem high, the long-term cost savings are substantial. Reduced spoilage, longer shelf life, and minimized labor costs contribute to overall savings for businesses.

3. Enhanced Product Quality

Vacuum packing preserves the quality of cashew nuts, ensuring that they maintain their flavor, texture, and nutritional value. Customers are more likely to return for high-quality products, leading to increased sales and customer loyalty.

4. Sustainability

Many vacuum packing machines are designed with sustainability in mind. They utilize materials that are recyclable and help reduce food waste by extending the shelf life of products.

Choosing the Best Vacuum Packing Machine

When selecting the best vacuum packing machine for your cashew processing needs, consider the following factors:

1. Machine Size and Capacity

Choose a machine that meets your production volume requirements. Smaller operations may benefit from manual or semi-automatic machines, while larger facilities may require fully automatic systems.

2. Type of Packaging

Ensure that the machine is compatible with the type of packaging you plan to use, whether it’s vacuum bags or containers.

3. Ease of Use

Look for machines with user-friendly interfaces and easy setup procedures. This ensures that operators can quickly learn to use the machine, minimizing downtime.

4. Maintenance and Support

Consider the maintenance requirements of the machine and whether the supplier offers support and service agreements. Reliable support can save time and costs in the long run.

5. Budget

Evaluate your budget and compare the costs of different machines. Keep in mind that investing in a quality machine can lead to long-term savings.

The Future of Vacuum Packing in the Cashew Industry

As the demand for packaged cashew products continues to rise, the role of vacuum packing machines will become even more critical. Innovations in technology, such as improved sealing methods and enhanced automation, are expected to shape the future of vacuum packing in the cashew industry.

Emerging Trends

Smart Packaging: The integration of smart technology into vacuum packing machines will enable real-time monitoring of packaging conditions, ensuring optimal quality control.

Eco-Friendly Materials: As sustainability becomes increasingly important, manufacturers will likely focus on developing eco-friendly packaging materials compatible with vacuum packing technology.

Increased Automation: The trend toward automation will continue, with advancements in robotics and AI streamlining the packaging process further.

Customization: Businesses will seek more customization options in packaging to cater to specific consumer preferences and market trends.

Conclusion

The vacuum packing machine is an indispensable tool in the cashew processing industry, revolutionizing how cashew nuts are packaged and preserved. By utilizing vacuum sealing technology, businesses can enhance product quality, extend shelf life, and improve overall efficiency.

[activepackaging]

Welcome to Active Packaging Systems, one of Pune, Maharashtra's top manufacturers and producers of dry fruit packaging equipment. In order to meet the unique requirements of food processing and packaging industries, we provide a wide variety of packaging machines Manufacturers, such as the almond pouch packing machine, cashew pouch packing machine, and more.

Dry Fruit Pouch Packing Machine Automatic Our cutting-edge equipment is designed to offer dependable and effective packaging solutions that satisfy your particular needs. It has features like labeling, bagging, and sealing that may be tailored to fit your particular packaging requirements.

[cnyazhongmachinery]

automatic bag filling and sealing machine price|automatic packaging machine

Raw material: Snacks, candy, nuts, potato chips, french fries etc. Capacity:50kg/h-500kg/h https://www.cnyazhong.com/products/Snacks-packaging-machine.html Wechat/whatsapp:8613213203466 #automatic dry fruits packing machine #automatic seed packing machine #automatic dal packing machine #automatic vegetable packing machine #automatic snacks packing machine #food packing machine automatic #automatic food packaging machine #automatic candy wrapping machine #automatic popcorn packing machine

[ultronmachine]

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Raw material: Snacks, candy, nuts, potato chips, french fries etc. Capacity:50kg/h-500kg/h https://hnjoyshine.com/products/Granule-Packaging-Machine.html Wechat/whatsapp:8613213203466 #automatic dry fruits packing machine #automatic seed packing machine #automatic dal packing machine #automatic vegetable packing machine #automatic snacks packing machine #food packing machine automatic #automatic food packaging machine #automatic candy wrapping machine #automatic popcorn packing machine

[topgun-imagines]

The One With The Barista

Requested: yes

Summary: Bradley is a regular at the coffee shop you work at. One day, he finally works up the courage to talk to you.

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: none.

Pairings: Bradley ���Rooster’ Bradshaw x barista!reader

The coffee shop was always busy on Saturdays. Every week, people would come in waves to try the new treat that the baker chose for this week. Why he did it on Saturdays, you weren’t too sure. But you did know that everyone packed into the tiny building loved it.

Today’s treat was a lavender and lemon scone with a honey glaze. All morning, people had been filing in and out of the coffee shop, either with the delicacy in their hand or on a mission to get one. All except for one.

A man sat in the corner, similar to how he did most weeks. Every week without fail, he would come in and claim his seat in the corner, spreading out his books while he sipped on the latte that you brought him. He hardly ever moved, nose buried deeply into whatever he was reading.

Today, it looked as if he were reading a novel rather than some type of manual. From where you were standing, you could see the light brown cover of the book and the cursive lettering that was strewn across the cover. He seemed deep in thought as his eyes slimed page after page. Even with the loud distractions of the coffee shop, nothing drew his attention away from the words in front of him.

Over the past few weeks you had noticed that if he did order a pastry, it was always one with fruit. Never something savoury, and never something too sweet. He often ordered a strawberry bagel with butter, but occasionally he would try the week’s special. You guessed that he liked this week’s, judging by the fact that he was nibbling on his second one as he flicked the page of his book.

Usually, the mysterious stranger left around noon, only sometimes staying for a few minutes extra. This time, however, it was well past two and he was still in his seat. After he finished his latte, he ordered a strawberry lemonade that he had yet to finish. Maybe he wasn’t planning on leaving for a while.

The bell chimed above the door as another customer walked out. You began wiping off the tables, still occasionally sneaking a glance at the handsome man in the corner. The rag ran across the table smoothly, leaving small wet streaks in its wake. Once it was dry, you moved along to the next table, repeating the process like you had many times before.

You returned behind the counter just as your coworker untied their apron. She offered you a friendly smile as she moved to collect her belongings. With a quick glance at the clock, you realized that her shift ended five minutes ago. A sigh escaped you at the sight of the empty room. Now it was just you and the handsome stranger.

A few minutes of comfortable silence filled the shop, only interrupted by the grinding of the coffee machine and the sound of the man flipping pages.

You busied yourself with cleaning the cappuccino machine. You began humming along quietly with the soft music flowing through the shop. As you ran the cloth over the smooth metal of the machine, you began to space out. Everything became distant background noise as you cleaned out the coffee grounds.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind you had you startling in your spot.

You turned to find the handsome man from before standing in front of you with a nervous grin on his face. Offering him a shy smile, you dropped the cloth on the counter and smoothed your apron out. “How can I help you?”

The man sucked in a short breath as he straightened his shoulders. “Hi,” He started. You smiled softly at his obvious nerves. Subconsciously, you found yourself fiddling with your rings under the counter. Maybe you were more nervous than you thought. “My name’s Bradley.”

You smiled. The name suited him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bradley.” You introduced yourself afterwards.

The man, who you now knew as Bradley, smiled at your words. “That’s a beautiful name,” You blushed. It may have been a cliché, but you enjoyed it all the same. “I was hoping,” He grinned, preparing for the cheesiness of his words. “That you would let me buy you a cup of coffee sometime.”

You watched the way his mustache twitched as he ran a hand through his light brown curls. “I would love that, Bradley,” You noticed that he had collected all of his belongings from his table. He must have to leave. “I get off at 5.”

Bradley stretched a hand out when you asked for it, quickly scrawling your number on the back of his hand. “See you in a bit.” One final smile was exchanged between the two of you as Bradley began walking toward the door.

The bell chimed above it as he stepped into the warm California sun. A quick glance at your watch had you smiling giddily. Only an hour and a half until you saw him again. Needless to say, you couldn’t wait for an opportunity to get to know the handsome stranger. Although hopefully, he wouldn’t be much of a stranger by the end of the night.

a/n: I hope you all enjoyed! This is my first time writing an au so feel free to send in any feedback or tips! Requests are open.

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @dreamgirl3300 @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @genius2050 @ice-doc-val @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @natt-67 @angelbabyange

Join my taglist!

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Being Ace's Best Friend Headcanons

* Ace gives off camp counselor vibes, tbh. He'd be so much fun to travel with, especially hiking and camping or exploring a new town! First of all, when camping, he has all the stories you could want! Funny stories, action packed ones, scary ones. He can do shadow puppets! He'll take a bite right out of your snacks though so watch out for that.

* constantly dares you to do stuff like tarzan swing across a river or touch a wild animal. He's all like, "cmon it'll be fun!" He is Luffy's brother after all.

* Shows you how to find different constellations and navigate using the north star ✨🥺

* Asks your opinion during missions and takes is seriously, even if your younger or newer to the crew, he hears you out. "Which path do you think we should take?" "Do you think we can take them?" He wants you to have a voice.

* You two balance each other out. I imagine you probably have a sarcastic and dry sense of humor that contrasts Ace's sincerity and he thinks your hilarious.

* If you get injured he. will. carry. you. on. his. back. if. need. be.

* Best way to describe Ace as a friend-- he's the sort of friend who will split an oreo and give you the cream side 🥺

* Late at night if your awake and find him you sneak into the kitchen (or the fire pit if your camped out) and make late night ramen and theorize about aliens and stuff.

Being Sanji's Best Friend Headcanons

* Seeing as all the straw hats have jobs on the ship I imagine your the "chores/cleaning person" of the ship so you often help Sanji wash dishes and go on grocery trips with him. What does this mean? It means you've played would you rather so much that you've asked every possible question. Grocery trips are a lot of fun though and Sanji tells you a lot about different fish and fruits, etc.

* Sanji gives great advice and he does not get enough credit for it. Personal advice? Great. Dietary advice? Great. Fashion advice? Also great.

* But in all seriousness, Sanji is a great listener. He's not really judgmental either, he's super open minded.

* His secret talent is that he can wrangle trapped soda cans from vending machines. He makes you promise not to tell Luffy.

* He's secretly your biggest cheerleader?? When you become stronger or accomplish a goal or defeat someone he's so proud of you?? But he normally just plays it cool and says smth like "nice one" or pats your head if your younger than him.

* Sanji uses you as his guinea pig for testing new recipes. You love eating tasty food though, so win win.

* You guys definitely play chopsticks when your bored. Sanji just gives off that vibe.

* I can't stop imagining the reader gifting Sanji a Polaroid camera at some point and Sanji then becoming that mom friend who photographs all the straw hats moments? I bet he even keeps them in a notebook? Or am I just projecting?

Hi! Oh my goodness, these are amazing! I'll be working on the headcanons for the characters your requested later today. Awesome thoughts, they all feel so in character!

[ghastlybirdie]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x gn!reader

Warnings: None really, Gaz being a playful menace maybe, incorrect military titles/workings, not proofread

2.7k words

Despite it being the end of a workday you and your little office department are left with a cruel trick on Halloween in the form of a massive load of paperwork from one of your superiors. Someone comes along and throws a wrench into your evening.

“One, two, someone’s coming for you! Three, four, better lock your door! Five, six get a crucifix! Seven, eight, better stay up late! Nine, ten-”

“Shut it, ya nitwits! Ya don’t even have the bloody song right!”

The door to your office did little to muffle the drunken cacophony of off-key singing of the Halloween party going on outside your tiny little office. Despite your best efforts and warnings, someone had been able to sneak a bottle of liquor into the party and dump its contents into some of the fruit punch; something about the ‘blood’ needing a bit ‘something extra’. It was a good thing you carried extra bottles of water or else you’d be forced to quench your thirst with something less than savory.

It wasn’t a large party, just mainly your department seeing as the small bunch of you were all left behind to finish some loose ends left by some overly lax superiors. Most of the department consisted of civilians with normal office worker who saw nothing more than a faulty fax machine and angry office managers every few weeks; nothing compared to the combat ready sergeants and corporals that used the small communications department as a respite from their training or running away from someone’s ire. Lacking any authoritative power, you never did much to stop any of the soldiers, seeing as you’d do the same if you ever heard some of the instructors yell the way they do at their men and women.

A staff sergeant, one you’ve seen a hundred times yet never were introduced a name to, came to you and your co-worker with an arm’s full of files and flash drives; something about last minute contracts coming in and a PMC group finishing a mission only hours before. It’s Friday, and they wanted it all done before the weekend but seeing as they had a… ‘very important meeting’, the staff sergeant volunteered the department to get it done. By that point, most were already packing in their lunch packs and bags, so the added work was anything but appreciated.

You had been staring at the spreadsheet on your monitor screen for possibly five minutes, eyes only blinking when they were near painfully dry, before you straightened out each limb in a stretch and drawn out groan.

You’re tired. You were tired before you even entered the office. Usually you could muster a structured smile if you brought along a cup of coffee or perhaps ate a meal gentle enough on your stomach, but you missed both alarms despite you being awake far before the first set off. Perhaps it was a bad idea to keep scrolling through videos in the warmth of your blankets.

The chatter outside only grew louder as the hours went on, most coworkers stopping their data entry only an hour into it, the rest shortly following suit. Many have given you partially completed files, one of them even giving you a single cell entered into his spreadsheet before unceremoniously giving up. So, here you are. Picking up the pieces of half-assed work that was never yours while the others brought in takeout and booze to ease their tired bones and fill their empty stomachs. Must be nice.

In your lax state you easily slipped into a dreamlike state, eyes ever so slowly closing while your body slumped further into the worn out office chair, the most comfort you’ve had all day. You were so relaxed your brain couldn’t focus back in fast enough when the door to your office carefully swung open, the bright yellow lights outside of your dimly lit office shadowing the face that peered in, a gentle voice calling out to you, jolting your whole body in a fright.

“Pardon me-” The voice spoke just loud enough to rise over the Halloween music and hollering, an embarrassed chuckle following your fright. “My bad, I didn’t know if I got the right room.”

“No, no… Come in.” You straightened yourself up again, smoothing out your shirt and fixing the leaning tower of manila files that flooded your desk.

A man stepped through your door, a blue cap on and visibly dirt dusted tactical gear still on his well built body stepped into your lamplight, a folder in hand. If you were being honest with yourself, you couldn’t deny how ethereal he looked with how his built framed was lit from behind you, the yellow light from your lamp giving only his torso a golden cast. His face was mostly obscured by his cap but his nervous smile of clear to you.

“Apologies. I was told to drop these off here.” The gentleman approached your desk in few, even steps, the folder stretched out to you.

It could have been the late hours of the evening or exhaustion reaching into your consciousness, but by the way your mouth hung open and your gaze lingered a little too long, you were nonetheless captivated by the gentle nature of this man’s smile. Your hand had instinctively reached for the manila folder, your eyes tiredly lingering on your guest’s features. He had scars, scratches and indentations that formed memories on his skin, though none of them hindered the soft lines of his jaw or cheekbones, the scruff of his beard lending maturity to his youthful skin, all to help frame his eyes that looked into yours. He was quite handsome, to say the least.

“Ah… Are you well?”

You felt a dial up noise in the hind parts of your brain, thoughts beginning to whirl again when he broke the silence. You snapped the gripped folder away, using it to partially cover your face in reflex, embarrassment burning on your cheeks. “Sorry! Sorry... I’m- a bit of a ways away from here, I think…”

He offered a snicker, smile only growing wider towards you. “It’s alright! Just making sure you’re still ticking in there. Seems like you’re working a bit of that overtime. Was scared I lost ya there.”

You could only offer a pained smirk, a sigh unconsciously leaving you. It seems he understood everything wrong in that one emote, shifting feet and letting out a sigh himself, almost as if to help relieve the tension that was building both in the room and with the party outside. “You have a lot to finish, then?”

You glanced over at the files that rested suspiciously on the edge of your desk, space being minimal on your work area even before you were handed the tall stack. “Yeah… I should be done by-” you flipped through them haphazardly, a few off the top sliding off and to the floor. You just sighed and left them there. “Christmas, perhaps.”

The gentleman chewed his lip, humming a note before picking up the spilled files. “With breaks I hope?” He questioned, which left you only with a half-hearted chuckle, your head lulling to the side in exhaustion just thinking about the work.

Thumbing the recent file open you glance over it in passing as your guest straightened out the pile of folders. “Sergeant Garrick?” You asked, glancing up at the gentleman. He nodded and offered a proper introduction to himself. Sergeant Kyle Garrick, a member of task force 141 with Captain Price.

“Most just call me Gaz, though. Much more friendly that way.” He shined his teeth in his grin, arms beginning to fill with an overabundance of files as he shifted the weight.

“What are you doing, Sergeant Garrick?” Piquing your attention and sitting straight up now, you watched as Gaz hiked the files as far up in his arms as he could manage while also peeking around the tower itself.

“Tidying up! Can’t get on with the merry and gay if you’re buried in paperwork.” He called out to you, already making his way to your office door with caution.

You stood from your chair and barely cleared your hips from the desks when you went to grab a part of the stack of files, the spontaneity of Gaz’s actions waking up your mind, finally. “No, no, no! These stay in here, I haven’t finished any of these yet!” He pushed the door open with his foot and knee, huffing at the struggle of nudging you away with his hip and propping the door open. “Sergeant Garrick!”

“Ah ah ah! Sorry love but these aren’t yours anyhow. Just returning them to their rightful owner.” He pushed past you with force, though only enough to knock you off of your path and stumbling you back. It shocked you just how unabashedly he changed demeanor and took the lead to whatever plan he had mustered.

“Sergeant Garrick!” You couldn’t help but raise your voice to him, calling out.

“Gaz!” He simply called back playfully.

You blinked after him, stunned, gawking at the way he hurried past the bodies of drunk partying coworkers. Seeing the sergeant the workers cheered out in praise, clapping as Gaz shuffled out of the department room. “Shred ‘em!” “Toss ‘em in the bin!” “Get those bloody things out of here!” Amongst other profanities towards the files Gaz carried.

Hearing the demise of all your hard work and the looming threat of your superiors shouting down at you, you picked up your pace to chase Gaz down, attempting to save yourself from the dread of being reprimanded for other’s actions. “Sergeant Garrick!” No response. “Sergeant! Sergeant Gar- Gaz!” You shouted again.

He slowed down, already making it to the elevator that was at the end of the hall. “Yes~” He elongated his words, a smug smirk on his lips.

“Could you please set those files down? I’m not entirely privy to the idea of being yelled at for your… Mishandling.” You did your best to glare at him, but your eyes were too tired and your shoulders slumped in defeat hours ago, making you look more like a pleading beggar. “Please?”

Gaz thought for a short moment, the mischief still in his eyes when the elevator doors slid open. “Hm… No.” And he stepped in, pressing a button inside. Your feet were moving to join him in that same second.

“What do you mean ‘no’? What are you even doing?”

“Taking these back. I see no reason for you to do all this work. It’s Friday! It’s Halloween, aren’t we meant to go knockin’ on doors and getting’ some sweets?” He grinned at you, waiting for the elevator to stop moving and open its doors, wide steps leaving you behind when you hesitated to follow.

“That’s for children, you know! I am not that! I have a job to do, sergeant Garrick, and you’re hindering it with your… Whatever this is- shenanigans!” You huffed at him, trying to widen your stride to keep up. “I have to get this finished, I don’t have all night.”

Gaz stopped all too suddenly, a grunt leaving you when you knocked into his back, stammering back when he snapped himself around. He gave you a moment to regain your composure, and wasted not a second more. “Gaz. And no. You don’t have all night and a night like tonight is much more suited for bars or costume parties. Besides, you also don’t look like-” he picked up a file from the sack, flipping it open and scanning it over. “Staff Sergeant Nicolas Wilkers.” He smiled at you and slapped the file back at the top of the pile.

You tried to explain, correct even, and speak up for yourself when he went back to his full speed as if he’s rushing to catch something. You hardly had a chance to form a sentence before he continued. “If that isn’t you, which it isn’t since you’re not even enlisted, then it’s not your problem. I don’t see why you should have to sort all these out on your own- Especially when everyone else has gone and jumped ship. Quite a crude lot, aren’t they?”

Gaz stopped in front of a door, vinyl lettering spelling ‘Nicolas Wilkers – Staff Sergeant’ on the frosted glass. Gaz wiggled the door knob when it didn’t turn, a curse slipping out under his breath when it wouldn’t budge. Wordlessly he crouched to the floor, dropping the stacks of folders onto the ground and unceremoniously shoved the folders underneath the door two or even three at a time, the sound of flapping pages and folders colliding being muffled on the other side.

“Gaz!” You watched in horror as he quickly shoved the large tower of folders shamelessly underneath the door, Gaz looking unbothered and even amused. To be honest, in the back of your exhausted mind and aching bum, you could care less about those folders once he started, the trek down sapping the last of your energy.

It only took a handful of minutes for Gaz to successfully push all the folders through the small crack underneath, standing up, dusting off his hands and pushing his fists to his hips in a triumphant huff. “There. Out of sight, out of mind, yeah?” He turned to you, where you just starred at him with a fatigued gaze. “What? I already told you, it’s not your work to worry about. We’re just returning to sender, hm?” His smile returned, two firm pats landing on your shoulder as he returned to the elevator.

“And where are you going now?” You exhaled the words, heavy with defeat.

“Going back up to Communications. We can’t forget your stuff, now can we?” He smirked, pressing a button. The doors started to close as the fried wires in your brain connected, a startled yelp escaping you when you realized what he said.

“No! You did enough already, I don’t need you messing with my stuff, too!” You shoved your hand in the way of the closing doors, though Gaz already had a propped hand up and in the way when you finally moved.

“I’m not messing with anything, love, I’m just getting your stuff. We’re going off to a bar; there’s one that has a little costume party goings on ‘bout a short distance away from base. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

Gaz looked content as you gawked at his idea, looking around the moving elevator as if searching for a hidden camera or other. Unfortunately for you and your exhaustion, there were none and you were left with the reality of Gaz speeding off the elevator and making a bee line to your office door.

You halfheartedly jogged after him, giving up when you saw the Communications staff were gathering their coats and belongings, tossing out their mess of bottles and crumbled papers into the bin. Some passed you saying good tidings, others patting your back in congratulations and ‘Good riddance of those blasted papers.”

Gaz had your coat and bag in arms when you weaved past your coworkers, closing your door and smiling at you when you stood face to face with him, partially shocked by your body’s automation to meeting with the sergeant.

There was a bubbling of something in your gut, something that left you a bit breathless and irate, something akin to anger.

But then Gaz smiled his gentle smile, looking right into your eyes with a level of sureness and ease that left that bubbling turn into butterflies for just a brief moment, your train of scrambled thoughts hitting a wall with a single word brimming with confidence.

“Ready?”

You blinked, one then twice then thrice, before exhaling fully. You didn’t know you were holding so much weight in your shoulders just then, the festering feeling leading to a moment of just breathing in the air. It smelled like a soft, powdery scent that one might get with a day’s long wear of cologne. It was lovely, how you missed it this whole time confused you more than Gaz’s insistent need to wedge himself into your workday.

Thanks to him, though, it seems that your work day has ended. Someone shut off half the lights to the department just then, nudging your focus back to the man in front of you. Turning around you saw someone wave to you both, calling you two to hurry up before disappearing into the hall. Leaving you with little else to fight for, you shrugged and relaxed your body with a sigh, reaching for your coat in Gaz arms.

“Ready.”

[apoptoses]

1980 New York City 1:38 am

“Daniel, what is this?” Armand asked.

Daniel closed the magazine he’d been looking at and put it back on the rack. He crossed the store in search of Armand.

It was hot out, one of those sticky nights when lying on the bed with the windows open just wouldn’t do. Going to the convenience store had been his idea, though Daniel didn’t really need anything. It was just an excuse to stand in the air conditioner while Armand explored. Something rattled in the vents. Air blew down fast enough to stop the bead of sweat on the back of Daniel’s neck in its tracks.

He found Armand in front of the slushie machines, hands in his pockets as he stared at the brightly colored liquid sloshing around. Armand tilted his head. A drop of cherry syrup dripped off the nozzle of one of the dispensers and fell to the tray below.

“It’s a slushie. It’s a drink, kind of,” Daniel said. “All it is is crushed ice mixed with flavor syrup. It’ll stain the shit out of your clothes if you spill it though, my mom used to get after me for that all the time when I was a kid.”

Armand cocked his head. “And what flavor is ‘blue raspberry’? Raspberries aren’t blue.”

Daniel huffed out a laugh. Armand could be so literal sometimes.

“I don’t know, something some executive made up to sell blue syrup. It tastes like blue cotton candy,” Daniel said with a shrug.

Armand furrowed his brow as he looked at him. Right. He probably had never had cotton candy either, being five hundred years old and all. He had no frame of reference for any of this stuff.

Sometimes he acted so normal Daniel forgot exactly what he was. When he was full of blood he was as ruddy cheeked as any young man, even under the harsh lights of the convenience store. It wasn’t until he opened his mouth that Daniel was reminded that he was standing at a slushie machine with a dead and unnatural thing.

He grabbed a styrofoam cup from the counter and handed it to Armand. “Here, get one and I’ll drink it. You can spy on the flavor through my brain or whatever vulcan mind meld shit it is that you do.”

Armand wrapped his fingers around the lever on the machine so carefully. He looked so intense. Like pouring a slushie was a delicate operation. Sometimes he handled things with such care, but then others-

Daniel’s hand went to the hickie low on his neck, barely hidden by the collar of his shirt. The bruise was terrible. The edges of it were almost the same blue as the ice coming out of the machine. If he pressed down on it he could still feel the ache, the searing pain of Armand’s fangs buried in his skin. He shuddered at the memory.

“Are you cold now, Daniel? You’re shivering,” Armand said as he plucked a lid from the stack beside the machine.

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb.”

Armand grinned at him and stabbed a straw into the drink. Daniel couldn’t help but grin back.

At the register he let Armand request a pack of cigarettes for him and then handed him his own wallet to let him pay like a little kid. On their way out the door Armand took his hand.

They walked the two blocks back to their building like that; hands clasped, Armand’s rings pressing into the space between his fingers. When they sat down on the front steps of their building Daniel held their hands up. Turned them from side to side and watched Armand’s rings glitter under the hazy glow of the light from the windows around them. His fingers were so pale. His palm was so dry, a sharp contrast to Daniel’s which had begun to sweat in the humidity.

“In my time we had a drink, brought over from the Middle East and called sharbat,” Armand said suddenly. “It was made from fruit syrups. Cherry and pomegranate and lemon. I was told that in some places it was consumed frozen but I never experienced it myself. In Venice there’s no way to build the cellars required to store ice.”

Daniel brushed his thumb back and forth over the back of Armand’s hand. Sipped at his slushie and tried to digest the information he’d just been given.

It was so rare that Armand talked about his youth. It always came in fits and starts, at the most unexpected times. Daniel could press him for hours on what it was like to live in renaissance Venice and get no answer, and then he’d put on a certain shirt or they’d see a particular film and off Armand would go with some fact that made his head spin.

“Do you miss being able to eat and drink things?” Daniel asked.

Armand blinked at him slowly. Like he had to process the question just as Daniel had to process his sudden story. He remained quiet.

A car rattled down the street. Somewhere above them someone cracked a window and the sounds of the program they were watching on tv filtered out. Daniel shifted on the steps and felt the concrete dig into the bare skin at the back of his thigh.

“In a way. I don’t miss the necessity of it,” Armand finally said. “I only regret that there’s such a variety of food and drink available now and I can’t experience any of it firsthand.”

“And tasting it through my mind isn’t exactly the same, I’d imagine.”

Armand nodded. “Yes. A pale reflection of the thing you’re experiencing, that’s all that it is.”

Daniel took another drink of the slushie. Let the syrup linger in his mouth before he swallowed and wondered if he ate more slowly if Armand would experience it more clearly. More intensely. The idea of never being able to taste anything but blood, ever again- it was hard to imagine. Armand preached the drawbacks of immortality to him every time he pleaded for it, but this was the first time any of it had ever sunk in.

He thought about his morning coffee. Popcorn at the movies. A bar of chocolate. All things Armand had never really tasted. Never really would.

Daniel licked his lips and sloshed the drink around its cup. Suddenly Armand reached out and grabbed him by the jaw. Pressed his fingers into his cheeks and made him open his mouth.

“Your mouth is blue,” Armand said.

His face was so serious. Daniel laughed when he let go.

“I told you, this shit stains everything,” he said. “Do you think it would stain your skin too? Nothing ever seems to stick to you for long.”

Armand pursed his lips as he considered the question. “I don’t know.”

Well. Only one way to find out.

Daniel took a long drink and set the cup down on the steps. He turned to Armand.

His auburn hair didn’t seem to be affected by the humidity at all. Not like Daniel’s, which was damp with sweat and clinging to the back of his neck. He reached over and tucked a curl behind Armand’s ear. Brushed his fingers over his cheek and watched his lashes, so full and dark, flutter against his cheek when he closed his eyes. For a moment Daniel could only sit there, palm on Armand’s face as he glanced between the pink flush of his cheeks and the soft shape of his mouth.

Daniel brushed the tip of his nose against Armand’s. Rubbed it back and forth, just sharing breathing space with him. He smiled to himself when Armand tipped his chin up in silent demand. Waited a second until he made a huffy sound and then closed the distance between their lips.

Warm. That was all Daniel could think about when Armand parted his lips and let him lick into his mouth. He was so warm tonight, so alive.

He felt the weight of Armand’s hand on his chest. It was warm too, even through his t-shirt, resting on his sternum right above his racing heart. When he grabbed Armand by the knees and dragged his legs across his lap he felt his fingers twist in the fabric. Armand’s nails, just sharp and dangerous enough to be felt through his shirt as he clung to Daniel and let himself be kissed.

Daniel sucked at his lower lip, worried at it between his teeth. Released it and then let out a quiet sound when Armand did the same back to him. His lips would be flushed and swollen after this. He’d bear the evidence of Armand’s kiss for the rest of the night. The thought made him shudder.

Somewhere in the city an ambulance siren wailed. The door to their building opened, the old hinges on it squeaking their protest.

Daniel ignored the other resident trying to get out. There was plenty of room on the stairs for them to get by. And besides, Armand was tracing over the roof of his mouth with his tongue in that way that always made him melt. There was no way he was going to stop this just to be polite and let someone get past.

He wrapped his arms around Armand and pulled him closer. Broke away to nose at his cheek, tease him until Armand yanked at his shirt and dragged him back in. Daniel didn’t even try to resist. He just angled his face just right and kissed him again.

Sometimes Armand could be so normal. Sometimes he was just the young man Daniel was crazy about. The sweet boyfriend who let Daniel make out with him on a hot and sticky night, out on the front steps where all of New York could see.

When they stopped to press their foreheads together Daniel’s heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his own ears. For a moment he couldn’t even open his eyes. He had to sit there until he caught his breath.

In the yellow glow of the streetlight Armand looked so alive. His mouth was stained. It was blue from the syrup. Flushed red from Daniel’s kiss.

“Your lips are blue,” Daniel said. His hand was on Armand’s cheek, thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. “Could you taste the slushie any better that way?”

Armand shook his head. He ducked in and kissed Daniel again.

“No, Daniel. All I could taste was you.”

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

While I am still thinking about DT and vampire stuff, my mind drifted to werewolves (because of course), and I remembered I do technically have fics where Ten and Lucian interact and are dating, and then I thought of... this.

Warning: absolutely ridiculous commentary from Ten based on something David talked about at a con when filming Tooth and Claw

Takes place while Lucian and his pack have control over the castle, so before all the shit with Kraven and Lucian faking his death.

On with the fic!

--

"Did you know," The Doctor said as he peeled a banana he had just pulled out of the inside pocket of his duster, "that I've met a werewolf once?"

"I wouldn't be surprised, you tend to usually land your strange box machine in their territory. Please stop doing that, it makes them more aggressive because the sounds frighten them." Lucian huffed, before putting hot metal into water, steam erupting immediately.

"Ah, yeah, true. But not those werewolves!" The Doctor grinned and bit into his treat. "A 'iffer'n kin'!" He said, his mouth full of fruit.

Lucian removed the metal from the water and set it aside, the Doctor realizing it was a horseshoe. He wondered if Lucian would let him use his sonic to attach to a horse, he had always wanted to use that setting, never got the chance yet.

"What do you mean?" Lucian asked, removing his gloves.

"Well," the Doctor swallowed, "when me and Rose, you know her, told you all about her, yes?"

"Yes, you have."

"Right, well, me and her were trying to travel to the 1970s, I think it was the 1970s, anyway. I miscalculated and sent us back to the 1800s! Wild, eh? Well, there, we ran into the lady herself, Queen Victoria! She'll be queen of the United Kingdom in a few centuries. So, we ran into her in Scotland, lovely place, do visit one day, and we decided to go with her to a manor."

So, as he sat on a seat in Lucian's blacksmith station, the Doctor told the lycan about the events of his time with Queen Victoria. He talked about the strange guards who turned out to be dangerous monks, set to handle and deal with a caged man.

Lucian wasn't exactly thrilled about a wolfman being locked in a cage, but understood that for safety reasons, it was necessary. The Doctor also spoke about the telescope, excited about explaining why that was important later.

But then he got to the part about the transformation he had witnessed. "It was... it was brilliant, in a way! I had never seen anything like it before, ah, just... just gorgeous, you know? Though, I personally like yours better."

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome!" The Doctor beamed. "Anyway, the lad escaped the cage once he changed into a wolf, and... well... I hate to say this, but this boy, was a boy, mind. Like, I know movies and artwork try to avoid it, but he was..."

The Doctor felt warm, and not just from the fire that Lucian was throwing a few dry logs into. He coughed, tugging at his collar.

Lucian glanced at him, tilting his head. "He was what, Doctor?"

"Ah, well... I mean, it's quite rude to point things out, especially for someone who is naked, and really, I didn't mean to look, but he was certainly, uhh..."

The lycan chuckled and shook his head. "Was he very well endowed, Doctor? Is that what you're trying to get at?"

"I didn't mean to look!" The Doctor exclaimed, wringing the banana peel in his hands, looking at some of the finished metal works rather than at the amused man before him. "We were being chased and I kept wanting to get a good look, but my eyes kept seeing- and then there's what happened later, and it's just...! I mean, it was so bright and yet you could still-!"

Lucian was laughing louder now and the Doctor tossed the banana peel at him.

"ANYWAY!" He loudly announced. "We got chased into a library and it turns out that was the right idea cause the room was protected-!" He tried to continue his story, but Lucian was still smiling as he worked and it made it hard to concentrate.

He probably shouldn't have brought this up, him and his big gob.

--

I'm sorry, but I will never get over David and how impressed he was about the guy doing the motion capture for the werewolf and how the suit he wore left NOTHING to the imagination. David is just in total awe over it, and it's like, why are you telling a room full of people this???

Also, the horseshoe thing is just a silly reference to one of the Big Finish stories and how Ten got very excited about using that setting. The man is a dork.

[levil0vesyou]

Oh hey, I realised I can just ask for advice!

(Note: This is (mostly) not ebegging (nothing wrong with ebegging, just wanna be clear) even if it may sound that way in the first section. Please keep reading. It's pretty long tho, sorry. I'll put it under a cut as I am planning to pin it but please, please read it, especially if we're mutuals. Reblogs are welcome, especially within the german blogosphere, but don't feel obligated.)

So as some of you know, my flatmate has locked me out of the kitchen because I didn't have money for groceries and thus kept eating his food. This includes the electric kettle, microwave and most cutlery but I did accidentally keep a spoon that I still have now. (I have a small bottle of dish soap so yes, I can reuse it as I do still have bathroom access.)

I have since received my first unemployment payment which, due to my previous (necessary) overconsumption is mostly gone again now. I have 20€ and change (cash so paypal and my other debtors can't seize it) left for the rest of the month (new unemployment payment should arrive on the 1st) but I'm struggling to make it stretch.

I've been trying to search up advice on this but couldn't find anything useful. If you have links or anything, that'd be awesome. Here's the key points:

I live in Germany so subject to the German costs of living. Because I also can't afford public transport fare, my store choice is pretty much limited to a small-ish Rewe nearby. There's also a Mäc Geiz and a pharmacy but ofc those aren't grocery stores.

I do not have food allergies but I am a vegetarian and unless I'm literally dying, this situation will not change that.

As mentioned I have no access to a kettle, a microwave, a stove, a fridge or any of that. I do have access to my popcorn machine (many years of trusty service, real mvp) but that's it. I have access to a spoon and a sharp knife. Not a chef's knife tho. I do not have access to spices.

My mental health is still very bad, I cannot leave the house some days and I don't think I'd be able to do anything elaborate. Thus, whatever I eat has to be easily (or not at all) prepared but not easily perishable.

At this point, my standards are very low. My current main thing is eating unheated canned food but I'm prepared to eat basically anything I can stomach (excluding meat, as mentioned) in any way that is possible for me. I'm eating unseasoned chickpeas out of a jar right now. They're actually pretty good. I also (under normal circumstances) sometimes eat dry pasta for funsies so that might give you an idea.

I eat a lot. Less at the moment but still above average. I need plenty of carbs or I will still be hungry after. Essentially, pretend I'm feeding two people here.

I keep craving salt. I'm usually decent at telling what foods my body needs by cravings so I've been eating many crisps since I no longer have a spice cabinet. But they're 'spensive. I've also been craving eggs but I have no way to indulge since afaik boiled eggs are only sold around Easter. Also fruit juice but I can eat some vitamin gummies I still have instead, that'll probably be fine.

As stated, the budget is 20€ for 1½ weeks. I do have a bit of food already, some Zwieback, a pack of Leibniz cookies, a small jar of applesauce, a (hopefully not too spicy) can of chili sin carne, stuff like that. Also some hardtack I made months ago and just now remembered, but not a lot of it and I have no way to soak it, tho I might be able to clean an empty can.

While I'm not hoping to inflict permanent damage on my body, I am willing to take a few more risks than I usually would. That said, I can barely handle one or two short grocery trips a week so foraging isn't a good option at the moment. Also, laundry situation is difficult rn so avoiding diarrhea would be awesome 👍

While I am unemployed and legally homeless (I just haven't left yet) I have no documentation for this at the moment. I mention this because some food banks and similar require such documentation. Also, again, I have a very low travel range rn (like... 200m. 500 on a good day) but if you know like some kind of... delivery food bank?? that exists in Bavaria (dm me for the city) that would be incredible.

No, I can't get a job. I literally just tried that (again) and have reached a personal new low as a result. There were some in-between steps (like that fucking clinic) but yea, that's not an option. No, not even home office. No, not even freelance.

This one might seem entitled but. I cannot keep eating the same thing. I do have my samefoods (tho I cannot cook pasta rn for obvious reasons) but especially lately, eating the same thing for more than two or three days in a row has been low key driving me insane. Might be because I've been mostly cut off from society for months, might be because my body is sick of it, who knows. But I need variety. Same thing twice a week is fine, but more than that is pushing it. I'm very sorry.

As stated, this is not an ebegging post and I want nobody to feel any kind of obligation but if we're mutuals and you have a German bank account (or Schengen and are willing to pay the fee) and you desperately want to, you may dm me about it. But you do not have to!!! And I literally only say this because I know what it feels like to be on the other end of this. No, paypal is not an option, I'm triple digits in the red there. Water droplet on a hot stone etc.

What I am looking for is advice, especially from people who have dealt with severe financial issues and/or homelessness/kitchenlessness before. I've been kitchenless before but I had a fridge, microwave and somewhat reasonable money then so it didn't really prepare me. You can either comment or reblog directly or you can dm me or send me an ask. Anon is enabled.

Either way, thank you so much for taking the time to read all this! I love you, may you have a good day <3

[sanguine-salvation]

when your muse enters a grocery store, what's the first section they walk to and why?

[ IN-DEPTH HEADCANON QUESTIONS - ACCEPTING ]

Viktor will go straight for anything easy to carry and easy to eat most times, depending on what is closest to the front of the store. Things like crackers or snack packs or fruit from time to time. They're usually stealing anyway, or grabbing things before the cops get called on the spooky person that might be a serial killer hanging out in the produce aisle. It's a 50/50 shot in Gotham whether someone is actually gonna bother with reporting a rogue, you gotta be ready.

HOWEVER, if they're sent in with a purpose, they nail every aisle necessary in proper order, dry-shelf to refrigerated, like a shopping machine. It's a little spooky how efficient a shopper they can be. Well, okay, they're almost a shopper, since they don't have money and are not likely paying for it.

[chaletnz]

Coffee Tour at Doka Farm

In the morning I was treated to a very early, very cold shower in temperatures that were definitely not the 30 degrees of Jaco! I packed my day bag quietly for my tour and then sat in the main living room where there was a little cat curled up asleep that I must not have noticed last night. The driver was right on time for pick up and I was the first person so had my pick of the seats, although he asked me to sit right behind him. I sat there until we arrived at the next hotel for pick up but it was too cold and windy there to do it all day! It was cool to see the city of San Jose wake up and come alive at 6am as we drove through the streets to pick up all the tour participants. Everyone walking around was carrying an umbrella – it was a 100% chance of rain today, and they seem to trust the forecast! One queue at a bus stop ran all the way down the street, around the corner and down the next street, it was organized mayhem! Our driver introduced himself as our tour guide Max who had his first coffee at 6 months old. He told us that the traffic is crazy in San Jose because 2 million people visit everyday but luckily we were heading out the opposite direction. Once everyone was picked up, our last folks were picked up from an airport hotel, Max gave us the itinerary break down for the day. We’d be spending it in the Alajuela province which is famous for its mango which is unfortunately not in season! Our day began with a visit to Doka coffee farm owned by the Vargas family at 5000 feet. On the drive us Max gave us all the facts about Costa Rican coffee – it’s Arabica only, 95% of Costa Rican coffee is exported to other countries, coffee grown at 3000 feet tastes like citrus and coffee grown at 6000 feet tastes like sweet fruits. Max also told us about how he gets woken up at 4am everyday by his 2 cats Catalina and Nutella – one cat has another house though. As we drove further up into the coffee plantations Max explained how coffee productions is one of the biggest industries for migrant workers from Nicaragua. 200,000 Nicas work in coffee plantations in Costa Rica, another 200,000 work in banana plantations, and 200,000 more in pineapple plantations. These migrants get around $20 a day, which is much better than the $4 a day they would get in agricultural work in their home country just across the border. They are also given housing as part of their employment since they do the work that Costa Ricans are unwilling to do. At the Doka coffee farm, we started with our buffet breakfast where I finally tried gallo pinto on my last full day in Central America! I also piled up my plate with fried plantains, sausage slices, a tortilla and some fruit. They had 3 black coffees on offer, made from their own coffee beans. The standout was the Peaberry which I ended up buying a bag of to take home with me.

Max took us on a tour around the plantation, we first saw the peeling machine that has worked for 160 years without electricity and Max explained how the coffee harvest is synced with the school year so that the teenagers can also come to help pick the cherries when all hands on deck are needed. A sack of Costa Rican green coffee beans, washed, peeled and dried, goes for about $300 but up to $4000. In comparison the average price of a sack of Brazilian robusta beans fetches $100 meanwhile the most expensive sack is a geisha tree specialty from Panama which sold for $200,000. The peaberry is also more expensive as it’s a perfectly formed seed but smaller than average, they need to be handpicked out of the regular seeds. Max explained that the sweetest coffee is grown at the higher altitudes, but the honey process can also lead to sweeter coffee. The honey process involves leaving the greasy layer on the beans rather than letting them ferment to wash it off. When it dries, the honey process will take 12 days to dry the greasy layer too whereas the fermented beans would only take 5 days. The beans are all dumped outside in the sun to dry, with the workers walking through the beans with a rake to move them around for even-drying. After the tour we were led purposefully to the gift shop where I purchased the peabery blend for just $9 as well as some chocolate coated coffee beans for Alanna. We then piled back into the van to our next destination - the Poas volcano.

[adelaidedrubman]

Jenna we need to COOK !!!

THANK YOU ZAK and also to @florbelles for requesting. unfortunately title is misleading and jenna does not, in fact, Cook in this one. instead she’s just finished Cooking and trying to have a nice soak and faith interrupts to politely demand bathtub sex:// but here’s a (sfw) excerpt of jenna fresh back from the lab and dwelling on her work, aka writer who knows nothing about chemistry tries to vaguely describe the bliss production process.

Jenna didn’t mind the smell of bliss, really. At any stage in the production process.

A decaying floral perfume as the leaves dried, like fruit rotting and baking under harsh sunlight. The sharp, biting scent of alcohol, complimented by a hint of subtle earthiness as the plant matter dissolved. The heavy, airy stench of gas from the bunsen burner fading into the dry, burnt flavor of chemical smoke as she distilled the solution. The full, salty odor of the preservatives she mixed into the final product to ensure it would keep before being diluted and packed into barrels or bottled into vials in its concentrated form.

She didn’t mind the smell. She really didn’t. If anything she liked it. It meant things were rolling along successfully, after all. She especially liked when she could smell a note of each individual flavor at once. Smoothly blending together, yet as distinct upon inspection as the stages of the process itself. A sign her lab was a well oiled machine.

No, she didn’t mind the smell of bliss at all.

She did mind that it clung.

That every liquid soaked into the air over time, saturing it with vapors that settled into her hair and clothing. That every gas seemed to find her nose no matter how well sealed her mask, scent hanging for hours, the creeping knowledge lurking in the back of her mind that it had surely seeped into the soft pink tissue of her lungs as well.

She sighed, peeling off the last of her clothing and dropping it into the hamper. Her hamper, one of two placed one either side of the bathroom door. One for her and one for Faith, Jenna’s distinguishable by the sealing lid and plastic lining — looking less like a laundry hamper and more like a biohazard container.

Which it might as well be, she thought, slipping out of her shoes, soles of her feet adjusting to lightly glossed grain of the hardwood as she padded along the floor towards the bathtub.

Not that she minded that either.