#bok choy bunch

[organicdeliverysydney]

Bok Choy Bunch

Buy bok choy bunch online from organic delivery Sydney. We provide only the highest-quality, freshest products.

[scribefindegil]

*watches Q aggressively chomp down on an enormous raw vegetable in the background of a scene* wow he's just like me fr

[dilleater]

i'm in charge of watering the garden @ work over the summer and in exchange i get to harvest whatever i want hehe 🤗

[neige-leblanche]

having a cozy time~<3

[tomboyfriends]

I love cooking without a recipe. It’s like: Step 1: Be Asian Step 2: Impress literally everyone around you

[a11eya]

TITLE: lights will guide you home

CHAPTER: 6

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Soul-lights aren’t as common in this day and age as they were in the past, before quirks, but they’re common enough that people do still find their soulmates.

At thirteen, you meet Bakugou Katsuki, and he lights up for you in orange and gold. You tell him he's your soulmate. He sneers and tells you that you aren't his. He makes your adolescence miserable until you part ways.

You meet again as adults, late at night, in a grocery store, over a pile of bok choy. He apologizes for how he treated you when you were children.

(In which you have a choice—to reject Bakugou's apology, reject him, or to let him show you the man he's become, to learn with him what it means to love and forgive.)

TAGS: soulmate au, trope inversion/subversion, slow burn, getting together, falling in love, fluff, aged up characters, pro-hero characters, eventual smut, mild bullying

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

It’s a weeknight, after dinner, when your coworker messages you.

Is this you????? They send you a link to a tweet.

The tweet reads, Dynamight dating someone? 🤔 and there are two pictures attached.

You tap the first image and zoom in. 

It is you. It’s at the pet store, you realize. This first picture is of you and Bakugou from behind. The second picture is the both of you from the side, though it’s blurry because Bakugou’s in motion, angled in a way that blocks your face from view. 

There are a few interactions with the tweet, people retweeting it with commentary. Some people are saying that it looks like you could just be some random office worker; you’re wearing office attire. You think those people seem like rational, reasonable human beings. Others are analyzing the distance between you and Bakugou standing next to each other, estimating in centimeters, and say it’s too close, that you must be romantically involved. You think those people are a little unhinged. 

There are other, meaner comments, but you skip over those and close out of Twitter.

You stare at your phone blankly. The screen goes dark, and a rock settles in your stomach. You hadn’t even thought of the repercussions of being in public with Bakugou. With Dynamight. It’s stupid. That day, you noticed people looking, but you thought they’d been looking at him. Not both of you.  

You jump a little when your phone goes off in your hand. It’s Bakugou.

Speak of the devil. You hope he’s calling to tell you he can make this go away. You don’t want this kind of attention. 

“Hello?”

“Don’t lose your shit. D’you see the dumb gossip rags?”

“What gossip rags?” you ask. There’s more? 

“Nosy assholes took pictures of us at the pet store the other day. You might’ve seen stuff on socials. A couple of the shittiest magazines are talking about it.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling like you’re listening to him from far away. “Yes, my coworker just sent me a tweet with pictures of us from that day.” 

You can feel your heart rate rising. Hearing it confirmed in Bakugou’s gruff voice makes it real in a way it wasn’t a minute ago.

“Yeah, I—” He sighs harshly, stops. “Where are you?” 

“What?” Your brain takes a second to load. “I’m at home. Why?”

“I’m coming over.”

“What?” you repeat, feeling like your thoughts are moving through molasses—slow, viscous. You shake your head, trying to clear it. It sounded like he’d said he’s coming over. 

“You heard me. What’s your address?”

“Bakugou. Don’t come over. Why do you want to come over?”

He exhales, and it crackles the line. “Look, I know you’re thinking up a bunch of shit in that squirrely head of yours—”

“Squirrely?” you say, making a face. 

“—and you needa knock it off. S’gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of it.”

It’s what you wanted to hear, but actually hearing it makes your mind empty, the buzzing anxiety quiet. You swallow the sudden lump in your throat. 

After a moment, you say, “...Okay.” 

Your voice is softer than you’d like it to be. It embarrasses you.

You wonder if the people he saves as Dynamight feel this way. So relieved that it feels like you could float, like Uravity. 

“Good,” he says, and there’s a quiet lull. “My PR team’s gonna be in contact with you tomorrow. Call or message me if—if anything changes.” 

“Okay,” you repeat. Your heartbeat is no longer so loud. You can hear the rustle of his clothes as he shifts on the other end of the line. “Goodnight?”

“Night,” he says, and hangs up. 

In the morning, as you’re leaving your apartment for work, you get that call from his PR team. His manager introduces herself as Ikeda. 

“I’m sure Bakugou’s given you a brief, inadequate explanation of the situation,” she says dryly, and you let out a surprised laugh. She continues, “Before we go any further, do you have any questions about or have any concerns for your immediate physical safety?”

“I—no?” Alarm creeps into your voice. “Should I be concerned?”

Her tone shifts from brisk and business-like to something more sympathetic. “Your privacy has been violated, so it’s very understandable if you’re feeling unsafe. Many pro heroes’ family and friends feel this way when similar situations occur, and many pro heroes feel this way too. I’m here to tell you that we can assign security to you, effective immediately, if you feel their presence is necessary or even if it would ease your mind. It’s protocol. 

“However, none of the pictures in circulation reveal your face or any distinguishing characteristics, so my team and I aren’t too worried at this point, and we feel you shouldn’t be either. But again, if you have any questions, please ask. I would like you to make informed decisions.”

“Thank you. I’m feeling… okay,” you say, though truly, you’re overwhelmed and trying to process. You picture people in suits following you around work and grimace. “And I’ll pass on the security, if that’s okay.” 

“That’s fine.”

“And I don’t have any questions so far.”

“Alright. And if you change your mind, contact me at this number. Someone will always answer.” Ikeda pauses. “Alert us, please, if something comes up, even though you may feel compelled to alert Dynamight instead.”

You’re confused. Why wouldn’t you tell Bakugou? “Can I ask why?”

“He has a history of responding to perceived threats with… overwhelming force. Even if the threat doesn’t warrant it.” Ikeda mutters something you don’t quite catch, but it doesn’t sound complimentary. 

You imagine Bakugou showing up at your apartment, or at work, and absolutely destroying some paparazzo for taking pictures of you, or something. You wince. 

“...I’ll do that,” you tell Ikeda. “Um, I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, but I’m going to have to run soon. I need to get to work.”

“Oh! No, no, sorry to hold you up. One more thing. Actually, two. First, can you meet me and my team at the agency after work today? We need to hammer out some details to help us navigate how to proceed moving forward.”

“Sure.”

“Wonderful! Just give your name to the front desk and they’ll take care of the rest. Thanks for being flexible. The second thing is about your soulmate situation.”

You feel yourself tense up, shoulders creeping up to your ears. Bakugou had told her? Who else had he told? 

“Are you and Bakugou planning on going public about it any time soon?” she asks. “I can’t get a peep about it out of him. Hoping you’d throw me some crumbs.”

“Uh, no,” you say. Why on earth would she think you’d go public about it? Not only would you likely receive unwanted commentary on your soulmate pairing being one-sided, but you’d also be exposed to general public scrutiny. Just these pet store pictures freak you out. Maybe you and Bakugou are… friendly now, friends maybe, but it’s not worth it.

“Not planning on it,” you say firmly.

Ikeda sighs. “Right. Well, we’ll plan for it when the time comes. But that’s a conversation for another time. Thanks for your time. I’ll see you later today.”

You say goodbye, and you begin your commute to work feeling like you’d just been hit by a car. Ikeda had thrown so many things at you in one phone call that you’re struggling to wrap your head around it all. You’re also paranoid that you’ll somehow be recognized; you find yourself jumpy and self-conscious on the train, walking through the streets to your office building.

What’s worse is that despite your efforts you’re late for work, which throws your whole day off. You’re so out of it worrying about the pictures and the meeting with Ikeda later today that your boss calls you into her office to ask what’s wrong. 

By the time the end of the work day rolls around, you’re exhausted, mentally and emotionally. The last thing you want to do is meet with Bakugou’s PR people. You want to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep until you have to get up for work again tomorrow. Maybe you’d call out.

But you told Bakugou’s manager that you’d be at the agency. So you go. 

When you approach the receptionist desk, you make eye contact with one of the girls working it. You remember her from last time, and she seems to recognize you too. 

“Hi,” you say, banishing the semi-permanent frown you’d been wearing all day and summoning up a feeble smile. It’s not her fault you’re having a bad day. “I’m here to see—”

“Dynamight, right?” she says brightly. 

“Oh, uh—”

“He’s waiting for you on the third floor. Take a left out of the elevator, and it’s the first room on the right. Let me get the elevator for you. You need access to use it.”

You follow her until you’re standing in the elevator, biting your tongue, knowing the time to correct her has passed. She takes in your expression after tapping her card against the sensor in the elevator and furrows her brows. 

“Would you like me to show you the way?”

“No, I’m okay, I think I can find it,” you say hurriedly, rearranging your expression to a more neutral one. “Thanks anyway.”         

“You’re welcome! Have a good one!” she says, stepping out right before the elevator door closes. 

You stare at the floor numbers lighting up above you. Maybe she meant Bakugou’s team is waiting for you. 

You follow the receptionist’s directions—you really should get her name the next time you see her—and tentatively knock on the door. It opens almost immediately, and you look up and up to meet Kirishima’s gaze. You startle. What’s he doing here?

He smiles at you, oblivious to your confusion. This close, you can see that his teeth are sharp and his eyes are red, like and unlike Bakugou’s. They’re kind as they take you in.

“Nice to see you again!” Kirishima says, gesturing you in and closing the door behind you. “Wish it was in better circumstances, though.”

He studies your face, concern crossing his own. “Are you okay? How’re you holding up?” 

“I’m—I’m still up, I guess,” you say, smiling weakly.

Kirishima reaches up and pats you on the shoulder. “We’ll fix things, don’t worry. C’mon, take a seat anywhere.”

“Thanks,” you say, and follow him deeper into the room.

The room’s set up like a typical conference room, with a long table at its center with chairs circling it. A screen is at the far end of the room, and standing next to it is a tall woman in a sharp business suit, tapping away at a tablet. 

Bakugou is leaning against one of the walls, arms crossed. He’s in joggers and a plain shirt, just like Kirishima, and it makes you think they’d just wrapped up their workday too. His lights flare erratically; one moment, they’re dim and close to his skin, and the next they’re bright and flickering like a flame. It’s both distracting and mesmerizing. 

Bakugou glances at you briefly, a quick up and down, before looking at the woman. 

“Hey. Let’s get this shit going,” Bakugou tells her. 

The woman tears her eyes away from the tablet, mouth set in an annoyed slash, but then she sees you. Her expression smooths out. 

“Oh! You’re here. Yes, let’s get started.” She gives you a big smile. “I’m Ikeda. We spoke on the phone.” 

“Nice to meet you in person,” you tell her. “Thanks for the call. I appreciate the info you gave me.”

Kirishima sits on one side of the table, opposite where Bakugou’s standing, and closer to Ikeda. You choose a seat not quite across from Kirishima, and you have to pass by Bakugou to get to it. As you settle into your chair, you get that prickly awareness you feel whenever he’s around. But it’s comforting, having him at your back, in this room with two people you don’t know very well.

“It’ll just be the four of us today,” Ikeda says, “and the meeting should be brief. I know you’ve had a long day.” She looks at you sympathetically.

She taps at something on her tablet, and images appear on the screen behind her. 

“Here are all the images taken that day that we were able to compile. Our team has contacted all websites and individuals hosting these images and requested their removal. We’ve also taken steps to request deindexing of these images from search engines. This should slow any further spread of the images, but as you know, it’s impossible to scrub images completely once they hit the internet. And there’s the matter of the gossip magazines that’ve posted articles.”

The images on the screen switch to the articles you’ve avoided searching. Their headlines are blatant clickbait, speculating about the nature of your relationship with Bakugou and fanning the flames of jealousy generated by his fans.  

You avert your eyes. You don’t even want to know what Bakugou’s thinking. 

“As such,” Ikeda continues, “my team has determined that our best bet is to lean into the theory circulating that you’re an agency employee assisting Bakugou with a task.”

Kirishima blinks. “Will that really work? What would Bakugou have needed help with?”

“They were in a pet shop, and they were photographed carrying items for cats. We’ll release some social media posts stating that Bakugou was purchasing them for a pet.” 

“I’m not getting a cat,” Bakugou growls. 

“You don’t have to,” Ikeda says. “It’s just a cover story.”

“But how long would Bakugou have to keep up the cover?” you ask. All eyes in the room turn to you, and you grip your chair’s armrest reflexively, responding to the sudden attention. 

You clear your throat. “I mean, cats are a long-time commitment. Lots of them live for fifteen plus years, sometimes twenty… It’d look weird if you say you’ve gotten a cat but then never mention it again, right?” 

You glance at Bakugou to gauge his reaction, and he looks like he’s bitten a lemon. 

Ikeda sighs, rubbing her temples. “Maybe we can say the items were a present for a friend. We’ll have to think about this further.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, feeling bad. “I didn’t mean to shoot down your idea. I’m fostering some kittens right now and the logistics of caring for them are on the brain. Maybe your idea’ll work. I doubt anyone would care enough to check if Bakugou’s telling the truth.”

Ikeda’s eyes sharpen. “I’ve never fostered any animals, so correct me if I’m wrong, but—fostering means you take care of an animal for a specific length of time, right? But you don’t keep them?”

“Yes,” you say slowly. You make eye contact with Kirishima, trying to see if he knows where she’s going with this, but he looks as confused as you feel. 

You offer, “I’m only fostering them until they get adopted.”

“That’s great! We’ll use that, then,” Ikeda says, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Wait, I think I missed something,” Kirishima says, furrowing his brow. “What’re we doing, exactly?”

“We’ll frame things so that Bakugou’s fostering some cats. That’s why he was buying those things at the store, and he was getting assistance from an agency employee. We can acquire some cats Bakugou can take pictures and videos with for social media. Then, in a couple weeks, we can announce Bakugou’s fostering is complete and plug some cat adoption organizations while we’re at it. What do we think?”

“Shit sounds stupid,” Bakugou says, and you can almost hear the sneer in his voice. You haven’t heard that in a long time. 

“I like it!” Kirishima says. Out of the corner of your eye, to your left, you see Bakugou step forward. He plants his hands on the table, glaring at Kirishima.

“No,” Bakugou says, baring his teeth.

Kirishima frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “C’mon, Bakugou. It’d be good press for you. Boost your image! Everyone loves baby animals! And it’d be a good way to support local organizations. We can turn this situation into a positive!” 

“That’s dumb as fuck. Let’s just sue the assholes who took those pictures and wrote those articles and move on.”

Ikeda rubs her temples. “That’s not how it works, Bakugou. You were in a public space, so photography of you is valid, and the images don’t damage your reputation. Pursuing legal action isn’t an option.”

You’ve been quiet during this exchange, and you’re hoping to keep it that way. If you could become one with your chair or sink through the floor, you would. But, as if sensing your reluctance to participate in the conversation, Ikeda looks at you and asks, “What do you think? Feel free to weigh in.”

“Um, I don’t think I should… It’s a decision that’ll affect your agency’s business, isn’t it? So…”

“Fuck that,” Bakugou tells you. He’s looking at you, and you blink at him, startled. “Tell me what you think.”

Kirishima leans forward, catching your attention. “Don’t worry too much! Just be honest. You’re involved in this too, and we wanna hear if you have any opinions.” 

You worry at your bottom lip. “Okay… Well it seems like a decent idea. Better than the first suggestion, probably. I don’t mind if the story is that I’m an agency employee. And…” 

You tilt your head back to look up at Bakugou. He’s gravitated closer from where he’d been standing a couple chairs down. He’s standing nearly next to you. 

“If it’ll make things easier, we can use my foster kittens. Maybe featuring them will get them adopted faster,” you say. Tentatively, you smile, tilting your head. “Free my furniture from their evil clutches faster?”

Bakugou gazes down at you for a long moment, eyes narrowed. You look back at him, waiting. He turns away. 

“Whatever. Fine,” he says.

“Great!” Ikeda says, smoothly inserting herself back into the conversation. “I’ll take care of the details. I’ll send some paperwork along to you digitally. Then all you two need to do is take a couple pictures and videos of Bakugou with the cats. Please have them ready by the end of the week!”

[inkareds]

Homemade Dumplings Modern Aemond Targaryen

nav // hotd m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 2.8k ✧.* genre: Modern domestic fluff ✧.* warnings: the reader is coded to be Chinese/grew up in Chinese culture

Aemond Targaryen grew up filthy rich, which means he didn't have to worry about doing any of the menial day-to-day stuff you seem to like so much. That includes cooking and buying groceries.

Short A/n before you start, the reader is coded to be Chinese by ethnicity (and they can lightly speak it lmao), their nationality isn’t necessary nor is it mentioned in the story. Despite this, it isn’t a big part of the story which means that anyone can read it, just ignore a small amount of the dialogue. 

“Where are you off to this early in the morning?” Aemond poked his head out of the bathroom when he heard you shuffling in the bedroom. 

Your head perked up at his voice before going back to packing your bag for a trip to the market. 

“Just heading out to the farmer’s market downtown, I need to buy some chives, spices, and baby bok choy from the old Chinese ladies there. They have the freshest Chinese vegs and they always run out if I’m not there early.” 

Aemond quirked his brows a little bit at your statement, he was used to being the early riser in your relationship. Sometimes he even woke up before the sun rose to go for a jog or go to the gym. But here you were now, awake and dressed, ready to go while he had just finished his shower after his morning workout. 

“Did you have breakfast already?” He queried.

“Yep, I woke up not long after you left. I wanted to make some dumplings so I need to buy some ingredients.”

“Hm,” he hummed in response. “May I join you?” 

“Of course, you don’t even have to ask, baby.” You stated before going over to him and pecking him lighting on his cheek. 

Aemond’s stomach fluttered at that, weirdly still getting giddy at the prospect of being with you. He quickly dressed himself and off the two of you went to the farmer’s market. 

When the two of you got there, Aemond mostly followed you around. You would’ve laughed at how adorable he looked, with long platinum hair in a bun, looking very casual in just a t-shirt and sweats. But you were too busy trying to look at every bunch of chive and baby bok choys to find which ones are the best. 

Your eyes observed the array of Chinese vegetables in front of you. Aemond watched as you picked one up and rotated it in your hand, your face twisting in your focus, all before putting it back down with a slight shake of your head. He watched you repeat this a few more times before finding the bok choy you like and putting it in your basket. 

“How can you tell which one to take?” He asked chuckling slightly, he thought it was kind of entertaining that it took you this long to find a vegetable you liked. 

You perked up before picking up one bundle of bok choys. 

“You see this one?” He nodded, “There are slightly yellow and brown splotches on the stem, it means it’s past its prime.” You pointed it out. 

“And this one,” you picked another one up, “The green leaves don’t look as fresh, there’s some holes here and there, not to mention it’s slightly floppy. When you’re looking for bok choy you want the stem to be white and the leaves to be stiff and fresh. You’ll get the one with the longest shelf life that way.” 

Aemond surprisingly nodded along, not realising that there was this much thought to be put into vegetables. You lightly laughed at his furrowed brows as he looked at the difference between the bunches of bok choys in front of the two of you. 

You had prompted Aemond to pick a few more bok choys, the first few he picked you pointed out the slight blemishes in the leaves. But by the third one, he picked a good and fresh-looking one, causing a bright smile to appear on your face. 

Aemond had grown up spoiled, well, that might be understating it. He grew up filthy rich and he still is, meaning he didn’t have to worry about picking the freshest produce or cooking his food. But now that he lived with you, he found that he quite enjoyed learning new and domestic things with you. Things that you learnt through your upbringing. 

On the other hand, you quite enjoyed teaching him. Aemond put a lot of work into learning new things and he stubbornly wanted to be good at the things he put his mind to do. So, everything came almost naturally to him. Even the smallest things like finding the best veggies, something you had to learn through the light scolding of your mother when you were a child every time you’d pick a ‘bad’ one. 

Once you’ve paid the kind old man for your bok choys, the two of you moved on to a cart filled with fresh spices. 

The market was slowly getting busier, which made you realise you should move through the area quicker. As you still had baby bok choys, chives, and homemade dumpling skin to buy. And to be quite frank, the crowd was getting annoying. So, you grabbed onto Aemond’s hand and started practically dragging him along the market to get what you needed. 

When you finally got to the cart with the dumpling skin, Aemond’s heart swelled at the sight of your face brightening at the realisation that the old lady running the cart hadn’t sold out on all her homemade dumpling skin yet. He watched as you adorably conversed with the grandma before asking for two packs of dumpling skin. 

“两个,” You told the woman before she nodded with a smile and handed you a bag with two packets of her homemade dumpling skins, “谢谢!” 

When you turned to face Aemond he had quite the unreadable expression. 

“What? You think you’re the only one who can speak another language? Sorry I don’t think Valyrian is very useful here.” You chuckled nudging him slightly. 

Aemond only smiled and leaned to lightly kiss your forehead before the two of you finally escaped the crowd and went back home. Aemond helped set down the ingredients as you made your way to the kitchen and prep your working space. 

Once you’ve placed down your cutting board and bowls, you quickly make your way to wash all the vegetables you bought and start cutting up the bunches of chives. 

Aemond, watching from a slight distance, couldn’t help himself but tease you. He walked over towards you, your back facing him, and embraced you from behind. Letting his fingers dance around your abdomen as he pushed his chest onto your back. He watched as a grin replaced your focused expression while you stopped your cutting and leaned back into his embrace. 

The two of you relished in the morning domesticity for a little bit longer. The sun that spilt into the room like pools of gold warmed the space. The air was light and Aemond didn’t think his life could get any better than this. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this at peace. All of it thanks to you. 

“Wanna help?” You hummed, breaking the comfortable silence. 

He hummed in acknowledgement, giving your body one last squeeze before going to wash his hands. 

When he returned you’d already finished cutting up your chives and placed all of them in a large metal bowl. 

“Okay, so right now I’m just cutting all the stuff for the dumpling filling, if you want you can cut up the baby bok choys, I’ve already washed how much I’ll need in that bowl over there. While I prep the minced meat.” You pointed it out and Aemond nodded. 

The two of you worked in silence together, you had already placed the frozen minced beef in the fridge right after you woke up so that it would defrost. So all you had to do was open the containers up and mix them in with the chives, all the while Aemond worked very quickly on cutting the baby bok choys. 

A couple of months ago you would’ve had to keep looking over your shoulder if Aemond was helping you cook. When the two of you first moved in together, he barely knew the basics of cooking. You took it upon yourself to help teach him as he always loved watching you work and he seemed genuinely interested in cooking. 

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond only had the urge to learn how to cook after an offhanded comment you made after he asked you why you liked cooking so much. With a smile on your face, you said, 

“My family used to say that the kitchen is the heart and soul of a home and food isn’t just for sustenance but for your soul. Good food means a happy soul.” 

He saw the way you laboured to make good food, even when you were exhausted from the day. You’d still make time into your busy schedule to make something, even if it was something extremely easy and simple. The fact that you put that amount of time and effort into something you could just easily buy made the difference for him. 

He wanted to share that love with you. 

At first, he was rather clumsy in the kitchen. There were a lot of things that you learned through experience and watching the people around you cook, so you found it difficult to explain why you were doing certain things. But, as always, Aemond quickly got the hang of it. 

“Something on my face?” Aemond’s voice cut you off from your daydreams, not realising you had been staring at him for a good minute now, you only shook your head and smiled. 

“Just-” You quickly went to wash your hand so you didn’t touch his face after you touched raw meat. “Your hair’s in the way.” You reached to brush a strand of his white hair behind his ear. 

A soft smile crept onto his face when your fingertips brushed against his cheek. Before you pulled your hand away he dropped the knife on the cutting board and reached to grab your hand, placing it on his cheek as he leaned into your touch. Your expression quickly matched his, lovesick smiles blooming on both your faces as your fingers lightly grazed his scar. 

He hummed in appreciation of your gentle touch then turned slightly and kissed the palm of your hand. A moment later he let go of your hand and turned his attention back onto the dumpling filling. 

“What next?” 

You picked up the cutting board and poured the contents into the metal bowl. 

“Well, all we need to do is just mix this up, season it, and then fold it into the dumpling skins. We can do that last part together.” You explained. 

Aemond watched intently as you mixed up the ingredients and poured in your spices and seasonings not even bothering to measure it. That was one thing he knew he couldn’t ‘learn’ from you. How to season without using measurements, was just one of those things you learned through experience and then intuition. 

Once you’ve mixed everything up, you handed him a spoon and brought out the two packets of dumpling skins along with some large plates. 

“First you wet the edges of the skin with some water, then you pick a chunk of the filling with the spoon and place it in the middle of the skin, then,” you showed in front of him, “You kind of fold the edges together. It takes a lot of practice and sometimes I still mess up so don’t worry about it. If it gets too sticky then grab some of the flour or starch to dry the water.”

You instructed and watched Aemond try to copy what you were doing. Much to your dismay, Aemond actually did it perfectly the first time he tried. 

“Takes a lot of practice huh?” He asked almost smugly causing you lightly swat his arm. 

“Oh fuck off!” 

A loud laugh left him at your little tantrum as he picked up another dumpling skin to make more. 

As time slowly ticked away, the two of you quickly fell into a very comfortable focused silence. And funny enough, Aemond suddenly found it difficult to fold the dumplings as perfectly as he did the first time. On one he had put too much filling, making it difficult, on another one he had put too little making it easy to fold but clearly not going to be very tasty. 

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Aemond slowly start to struggle and it took every single drop of kindness in your heart not to rub it in his face after all the annoyance you felt when he made that first one so perfectly. 

Finishing up with the one in your hand, you placed the dumpling on a plate and went over towards him to help. Though he had bigger hands than you, you couldn’t help but do the most cliche thing you could think of at that moment. 

You placed your own hands on top of his own and started motioning his fingers to fold the dumplings the way it was supposed to. 

“The trick is to not overthink it, when you overthink it you put too much pressure on the skin and it breaks or flattens. Making it harder for you to make consistent folds.”

Once you let go of his hands he was able to finish the dumpling he was holding perfectly. 

“See, easy, also I knew you had beginner’s luck on that first one.” You couldn’t help but tease him, causing him to pick up some of the filling on his finger and smear it onto your nose. 

Your eyes widen, “You traitor! After I taught you how to cook?!” You lunged at him with your hands messy with starch, reaching to smear his face with your hand. 

Aemond laughed as he dodged you. Laughter filled the room as the two of you tried to smear each other with flour, that is until you stopped trying to dodge Aemond and simply lunged towards him to embrace him. 

With so much flour on your own hands and clothes, all of it was effectively transferred onto his black clothing. 

“You’re terrible.” Aemond muttered chuckling slightly. 

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t start it.” You spoke into his chest. “Plus, you love me.” 

Aemond relenting to the fact that the two of you were now dirty with flour and starch hugged you back. 

“I do,” he hummed, one of his starch-laden hands reaching to your chin. Gently angling it so he could kiss them, “I really do love you.” 

You smiled staring into his eye, relishing in the warmth that bloomed between the two of you. That was before he started laughing. 

“What is it?!” You asked perplexed. 

“You have just a little-” he wiped a part of your cheek.

“Urgh,” you rolled your eyes before pulling away from him, now actually realising how messy the both of you were.

Somehow though, the kitchen itself wasn’t as layered with flour as the two of you were. Thankfully so. 

“Let’s just finish this up and we can shower?” Aemond suggested and you agreed. 

The two of you finished the last of the filling and skins whilst laughing and joking around. Annoyingly, Aemond finally got the hang of folding the dumplings and made perfect-looking ones every time. Though he did make it slower than you. Something you’re sure you’re not going to be able to tease him about the next time you make dumplings again. 

“Why are you making so many anyways? It takes up all the freezer space.” Aemond asked as you placed the plates in the freezer, effectively taking up almost every part of it with the copious amounts of dumplings you made. 

“It’s always good to have frozen dumplings in the freezer so that you can eat it whenever you want. If I put them all in a container right now they’re going to stick together, the trick is to put them in the freezer for half and hour before combining them into one container.” You explained as he nodded. 

Once the last of it was placed inside you both sighed in content and began cleaning up the space. Once that was done, the two of you sort of stood in silence, happy at all that you managed to do this early in the morning. That is until you turned to Aemond and had to stifle a peal of laughter and how ridiculous he looked. 

“Come on lover boy, let’s shower. You look like you just killed a ghost.” 

His black clothes were covered in flour and smeared with some filling here and there, he looked ridiculous. But as Aemond followed you to the bathroom to shower together, he didn’t think he minded getting all messy again if it meant he could hear you laugh so easily again as you cooked. 

When he was growing up he didn’t think the peace of domesticity fitted him very well. Especially with how turbulent his childhood was. But now, being here with you, he realised just how much he loved it when he was with you. 

[disaster-kitchen]

disaster kitchen, "what the fuck is in the fridge/freezer" edition, aka save me instant pot...instant pot, save me...

every time we roast a chicken or get a rotisserie from the store, the carcass goes in the freezer, along with any veggie scraps we remember to save.

this was:

2 chicken carcasses (including skin because I'm lazy)

a hand of ginger root, because the local bulk food store was selling it for $3/lb

1 bunch of slightly wilted green onions

a generous scoop of the minced garlic that comes in a jar

some frozen roasted jalapeños that lived in the freezer???? when did those come from

a bag of baby carrots? why do we even have those????????

splash of soy/tamari sauce

Throw into the pressure cooker and fill to the liquid max line with water. pressure cook for 30-40 minutes- usually I do 40 but we got impatient at the 35 minute mark.

rapid release, then ladle your delicious chicken broth over some instant noodles. Garnish with more wilted green onions and a baby bok choy that was wedged between the eggs and the half and half in the fridge. I also added a fuckton of my new favorite chili crisp (Mr. Bing).

Strain the rest of the broth out and idk make more soup with it later or just drink it out of a mug with a dash of cayenne, some msg, and a splash of lime juice. it's dark and sad outside, drink some broth about it.

[werebutch]

Nevermind

Yay Lynx likes watercress

[appleslices]

kitchen is like mostly functional now so i made mrs joc’s oyakodon recipe (with added mushrooms bok choy and carrots) and its so so so fucking good. i do need to go buy a bunch of dashi packets tho because i couldnt find bonito flakes so the broth doesnt really taste exactly like it should but its still very flavorful!!

[kitchenwitchtingss]

WITCHY SAGE SKEWERS

They've got witches at the barbeque now????

I rarely ever see witchy grilling recipes for summer, so when in doubt, make your own!

The witchy part comes from the seasonings mostly, but also the intentions. Any food cooked with good intentions goes much farther than that with none.

That being said, sage, rosemary, black pepper, and thyme are kinda like the go-to bad vibes be gone type herbs lol.

I use bok choy and yellow squash in this recipe, but you can totally use whatever vegetables you have on hand at the time.

Oh! You could also try to spice the recipe up by subbing the butter for some sort of BBQ sauce. Sounds yummy.

INGREDIENTS (seasoning measurements are just suggestions):

4 chicken thighs, skinless + boneless (can be substituted for pork, tofu, or any fatty meats)

1 yellow squash, washed.

1 bunch of bok choy, washed.

1/2 tbsp Dried Sage

2 cloves Garlic, Minced

2 tsp Ground Thyme

1.5 tsp Black pepper

1 tsp Onion powder

1 tsp brown sugar (you don't need it if you don't really want anything too sweet)

1 tsp honey (or more brown sugar)

1 tsp salt (plus more for the chicken)

0.5 tbsp Paprika (plus another half for the butter)

1 tsp Dried Rosemary

1/4 cup (4 tbsp) Unsalted Butter

Zest of half an orange (if you don't like orange, you could use lemon instead.)

1 tsp orange juice (or more to taste)

You can add lemon juice if you like a little more tang along with the orange juice

PREP: Mince garlic, soak wooden skewers, wash veggies. Slice yellow squash vertically into thin slices, along with bok choy, slicing vertically across the center. Set aside.

DIRECTIONS

Cut chicken thighs into about one-inch pieces. Season chicken thighs with salt, pepper, paprika, brown sugar, ground sage, and onion powder. Massage chicken until coated nicely. I like them pretty seasoned but really it's up to you!

Soak wooden skewers in water for at least 12 minutes so they don't burn on the grill.

In a bowl, combine mix melted butter, minced garlic, onion powder, salt, paprika thyme, black pepper, honey, and rosemary together in a bowl. Add in orange zest and a tsp of orange juice. I also added a little bit of lemon juice. Set aside.

Toss chicken thighs, bok choy, and yellow squash in olive oil.

To assemble skewers, string on a piece of bok choy, gently folded over itself a couple of times, and pierced through to keep it folded on the skewer. Then, string on a piece of chicken. Next with your thinly sliced yellow squash fold that over just like the bok choy. You could also cut it into bite-size pieces and pierce right through it without needing to fold it over itself. Repeat this pattern until the skewer is full.

Heat the grill, clean the grates, and oil them. On medium high-ish heat, cook the skewers on each side for 5 minutes. Each time you flip the skewer, brush on your sage butter sauce. Make sure the chicken is done before taking it off the grill. It could take more than 5 minutes on each side to cook. To be safe, I cook them for another 3-4 minutes after flipping both sides.

Take off the grill and brush with more sauce if desired!

Enjoy! I made these with some herb-crusted potato wedges and grilled peach salad. They were delightful.

RECIPE NOTES:

I love skewers because you can put any fruits, veggies, and meat on it, and it works. A fun lunch idea is to skewer some peaches, cook them slightly on the grill, and throw it into some sort of salad. Very tasty lol.

I like using Bok Choy because it's very absorbent, and any marinade you put it in, it will soak up all the flavor. Just be careful not to share it on the grill.

Yellow squash is also what I use in this recipe, but the good thing about skewers is that you can use any vegetable. The more colorful, the more fun!

[fox-bright]

Just heard this evening that a teacher friend of mine is making a thousand dollars less a month this year. This friend has two teenagers! I only found out because I messaged to ask if they wanted me to start any tomato plants for them when I start my own, as it's easy for me to get a half-dozen going for someone else when I'm doing fifty for myself.

They've been gardening since they were a child, and they said, they know that having the garden can really ease the crunch--that things have been very difficult--but that they haven't known how they'll be able to afford to get enough plants to really make a difference.

So yeah, starting tomatoes. They asked for fifteen plants--but I've seen their space and I know I can show them how to have thirty in it. And four or five varieties of peppers, and two kinds of summer squash, and maybe some butternuts that will keep into the winter, and beans, lots of bush beans both for dry and fresh eating, and I told them how to run strings from the roof of their porch into their herb patch so that they can get some pole beans going, too. And I must still have a packet of kale I can just give them. And I'll do ten or fifteen basils so they can make and freeze pesto. Can't do bulb onions, I haven't found any day-neutral ones that play nicely here yet, but can do bunching ones. And if they'll take 'em, a bunch of Asian vegetables--bok choy, gai lan, perilla, shungiku. And if I can remember, I'll tell them to stop off at the local extension office and pick through the free seeds bin for radishes and carrots and lettuce.

Make no mistake, this is rage I'm acting out right now. I'm pissed as hell. Working full time for a school and having trouble keeping their kids' bellies full. Goddamn ridiculous excuse for a society is this.

[recapitulation]

huge joys saturday

first time in MONTHS I've wanted to open a window!!!!! its so pleasantly breezy outside instead of boiling hot <3 i forget how much an open window means to me until spring and fall come around

i found the cutest little bok choy plushie after my vaccine appointment AND she was one dollar.......

my boss gave me a bunch of cherry tomatoes and I'm making a simple tomato sauce <3 yippieeee

[ID: a photo of spork and spatula sitting by an open window, a bok choy plushie, and a bowl full of cherry tomatoes glistening with olive oil /end ID]

[cascadedkiwi]

A Grand Soup [Comfortember 2023]

Characters: Micah Yujin x “Angel” Visual Novel/Game: Error 143 Genre: Comfort (more fluff, I’m feeling) Summary: Because Micah shall not settle for any old simple soup. Word Count: 822

Prompt: 27. Soup

Micah’s happy voice sounds through the front of the house. “Angel~ I'm home!”

“In the kitchen!” she calls back. 

Micah practically trots into the kitchen with his nose in the air, dropping the shopping bags onto the island countertop. “Oh, you brought out the big pot!”

She giggles, turning from her stirring. “What did you bring home?”

She can almost see imaginary ears popping up from his hair as he lights up.

“Angel, I went down that market street you told me about? There was produce EVERYWHERE!” He starts pulling out ingredients from the various cloth and straw bags. “I got carrots… sweet potatoes… bok choy - I hope I said that right - tomatoes, corn, red and white onions…” 

Micah separates a smaller amount and pushes the pile across the counter to where Angel is waiting with her sharpened knife. She transfers all she can carry to the sink to wash and peel as necessary.

“Don't think I'm done!” He says excitedly, although there's no way she possibly could've when he came in with four large bags stuffed to capacity. She listens as he continues unloading his haul like a proud gatherer. 

“I didn't even know cauliflower came in yellow! I got the regular white, too. I got all four colours of sweet peppers, white and purple cabbage - why do they call it red? Red onions aren't even red, either!”

Angel chuckles at his tone, bringing over bowls to separate the prepped ingredients. Her husband’s insistence at an excessively wide countertop was currently much appreciated. They could host a full family reunion to this thing.

“I got a bunch of beans and stuff, too! I found those ‘lentils’ you kept asking about, and Lima beans, and black beans, red beans, split peas…”

“Micah Yujin, who are we feeding with all this?” She asks with a laugh. The carrots had been diced and she was on to the broccoli he had purposely not announced. Her eyes roamed over the various mushrooms and pumpkin, lighting up at the butternut squash.

“Me and you, my love,” he answers in a posh tone. “You told me to bring home veggies for soup. This will ensure we execute only the grandest soup possible.”

“It'll be healthy, that's for sure,” she murmurs as Micah pushes the bags to the opposite end of the counter. 

He goes over to the sink, washing his hands before returning with his apron hanging from his neck and a knife and cutting board in his arms. “You didn't think I was leaving you to prep all this alone, did you?” He gasps dramatically. “I'm hurt, my angel, that you think so little of me after living as my sweet wife all this time.”

“We've been married for three months, Yujin.”

“And clearly I haven't demonstrated myself enough in those 90 days, Mrs. Yujin.” He makes quick work of the onions, using the excuse to have tears accompany his exaggerated sniffling.

Cassie shakes her head as she sets aside a bowl of greens, clearing her cutting board for the cabbage. “My apologies, my sweet.”

“No!” Micah huffs with a pout, leaving the tears as he moves on to the bell peppers. “This is my failure as a husband. I am more than just a provider, a bringer of raw materials for sustenance. I must prove myself!”

Cassie raises an eyebrow as he pushes away the peppers, dutifully wiping his knife before smacking down a sweet potato. God bless him because as much as she loved the things, cutting them was a workout. She would gladly watch him strongarm that vegetable into submission for their pot.

Micah turned everything into a performance or a good time. Even with his antics he was an efficient kitchen assistant, and pretty soon everything they wanted was in the pot and bubbling away. 

He sniffs the air, a confused look on his face. “Angel, is the oven on?” He bent to look but couldn't tell.

“Should be,” she responds as she rinses the dishes. “I've got bread rising in there.”

She squeaks into a laugh as she's suddenly hugged from behind, dropping a - thankfully plastic - bowl. She squirms as Micah peppers her cheek with kisses. “It's just bread, babe, relax!”

“My Angel made bread from scratch with this timing and I must relax?” He asks incredulously. “I shall not!”

“I'm assuming that informing you that my first attempt at a garlic confit is also in there will earn me more physical affect- Wah!” She squawks as she's raised clean off her feet and walked out of the kitchen.

“Mm-mm, mm-mm” Her husband repeats in her ear. “You're not allowed to do this to me. You're showing me up.”

“Micah-”

“ I'm the giver in this relationship, missy. Stop stealing my love language!” They topple onto the large sofa where he smothers her and her protesting laughter in kisses. 

It's a good thing they have a rather loud and intrusive kitchen timer.

[alex51324]

Week 4 Farm Box!

Today we begin with a round of "What's That Vegetable?"

Here's our contestant:

I got it out of the swap box, in exchange for a lettuce the size a toddler. Here's the base of one of the bunches:

I haven't even started on last week's lettuce yet, and I still have some from Week 2. So I took this because it's A) Not Lettuce, and B) smaller.

Here's a sample leaf:

My best guess is Baby Bok Choy, but in the pictures I'm finding, the stems are wider and whiter than this. So I'm not sure if this is More Baby Than Usual Bok Choy, a different variety, or something else entirely.

On a related note, does anyone have recipes for baby bok choy/similar greens? I know it's good in stir fries, but they didn't give me anything else stir-fryable, and I hesitate to go out and buy more vegetables in order to use up the vegetables to whom I have already made a commitment.

Anyway, here's the rest of this week--we have a special guest star!

From top left, we have:

?? Possibly baby bok choy

Dandelion greens

A thankfully Smallish bunch of kale

Green garlic

Scallions

Asparagus

Thyme

Jerusalem Artichokes, and

--drumroll, please!

Strawberries!!!!

The strawberries are a surprise treat! The "what to expect" email from the weekend didn't include them, and then the "what you're getting" email from this morning said that they were out of dandelion greens and scallions, so we were getting strawberries instead.

I would 100% have taken that deal, but the more eagle-eyed reader may have noticed that I did get dandelion greens and scallions. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, my fruit subscription doesn't start for a few weeks yet, and I'd heard that strawberries were coming ripe early this year in my area, so I was worried I'd miss them.

For this week my plans include

A big dish of strawberries with sugar on them

Roasted jerusalem artichokes and asparagus, probably with whatever fish I've got in the freezer (will use some of the scallions, garlic, and thyme)

Salad using last week's radishes and lettuce, I guess

??? Something using the bok choy/whatever, and ideally the dandelion greens and kale too--suggestions welcome!

I guess I could buy just some carrots and peppers, and then use those in both the salad and a stir-fry? And then the stir-fry could have a couple of radishes in it, too, along with greens, garlic, and scallions, and maybe some shrimp or something. Then I'd just need a sauce of some kind.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #373

I don't know how or why, but this morning was full of coughing. Also I've been sneezing like crazy all day, and my nose is somehow both stuffed up all to hell and also running like it's training for a marathon at the exact same time. If not even air can get through, then how in the heck are viscous fluids getting through??? It isn't even fair!!

The rhinovirus makes a mockery of all the faults of the human respiratory system. Such as, for example, its tendency to attempt to eradicate viral invaders with the application of... mucus??? Like, seriously. Why. Why would my body fill up my respiratory tract with fluid? Last time I checked, that is how people drown.

Like. On what planet (besides apparently mine) does a body think to itself, “hmmm, yes, we appear to have acquired some mostly harmless virus... LET'S FLOOD THE WHOLE AREA WITH STICKY, VISCOUS GOOP and see if that helps at all; who needs oxygen these days anyways???”

Sigh... I was feeling better yesterday. What happened...?

...Oh well. I know it's not actually that big a deal. I guess the post-holiday stuff just leaves me feeling a little bitter and cranky, and being sick isn't helping matters. I'll be okay; I know that ultimately, I have a lot to be grateful for, even if I am frustrated at my body's current condition.

Besides, I made myself some tea today. And now that I have a better camera, I can take better pictures of the swirls! Here:

...Haven't been able to snag ones this well-defined in a while now! I'm pretty stoked about how these turned out!

I also got soup and a bunch of other stuff to go with it today, too:

This is some kind of brothy soup with bok choy, bamboo shoots, tofu knots, and pork belly:

I've only ever seen bamboo shoots cut into flat planks before; I didn't know they were also cut in ways that show off their cool natural patterns like this:

...Bamboo shoots are delicious. And so are tofu knots. They absorb the flavor of the broth really well, and when you chew on them, a little of the juicy broth comes out of them. They look like this:

...Absolutely scrumptious. Seriously, it's some amazing stuff. They're soft and kinda chewy, and they have an interesting texture. They go so well with so many things, too!

Here are some of the other yummies I got; these are pork soup dumplings, complete with the little container of dark vinegar. You're supposed to poke a small hole in the dumpling and pour a small amount of the vinegar inside so the sourness balances out the savory flavor of the broth inside. I prefer it with the vinegar, but it's good without the vinegar, too!

These are spicy wontons filled with chicken and pork. Different places make them in different ways; this place uses a spicy peanut sauce with sesame seeds sprinkled over it, and there's some shredded cucumber and scallions on there, too. My body is normally oversensitive to capsaicin, but I got them hoping that they'd open up my sinuses; spicy foods tend to do that to people. But these were mild even for me:

...And some marinated steamed chicken, too!

I didn't eat all this by myself, don't worry!! There's plenty leftover for tomorrow; it's gonna be good!

Also at some point, J asked me to accompany him in the car as he went out to try a thing called COB pizza. It was in a somewhat faraway town. I stayed in the car, feeling zombified and trying not to fall asleep. Not wishing to spread around my germs, I waited in the car when J got his pizza.

Anyway. COB stands for “Cheese on Bottom”. The idea appeals to J because he actually doesn't like cheese much. But he does like tomatoes. I think the ideal pizza for him would be mostly sauce and very little (if any) cheese. And this is what a COB pizza promises. Behold:

...The cheese is, indeed, beneath the sauce, adhered directly to the bread. And actually... this makes a lot more sense. Because normally, the sauce is on the bottom, which means the cheese melts on top of a liquid, which means when you take a bite of the pizza, the cheese can sometimes slide in weird directions and make a mess.

The cheese does not slide on a COB pizza. But the toppings do, a little. And initially, I thought that was going to be a problem. But as it turns out, it just means that you can just move that pepper to where you need it so that you don't have to try to bite into it awkwardly.

...I am a fan of this concept.

And... come to think of it... I still gotta make a literal tomato pie for J sometime soon...

Anyway, I spent the whole rest of the day arranging recorded music box notes in Audacity. For the song I planned out, I managed to arrange the introduction; here's a picture:

...We see a tweaked version of the introduction later in the song, so I just tweaked it right here. So the lines “Twinkly 1” and “Twinkly 2” are slightly different mixes of the lines just above it. The lines “BPM quarter” and “BPM 8” give me place to snap to - 4th notes and 8th notes, respectively.

I also arranged the pattern for the verse. It's a little shorter, but more repetitive:

...It sounds good so far.

Now it's time for some math. My Audacity is set to have 44100 audio samples per second; that means in each second of audio, there are 44100 little blue dots. You can see them if you zoom all the way in.

The song is approximately 229 beats per minute; that is 3.82 beats per second. That means that each beat is approximately 11,544.5 samples long. But we can only have integers. Perhaps a little arbitrarily, I just went with a number close to it; I selected 11,556. So the length of each of my quarter notes for this specific song is 11,556 samples. This number is divisible evenly by both 2 and 3, which is important because there are triplets within each quarter note for parts of the song.

I guess in some ways, arranging my prerecorded music box notes in Audacity is a little bit more involved. But in other ways... it gets around the hardware limitations imposed by using actual music box paper. When you use actual music box paper, you can't control the tempo at all, and also, you can't play the same two notes as 8th notes, which really limits what I can do in a wide variety of respects.

...Those three music box papers I left for you with those very important people were made with those hardware limitations in mind. It took a lot more effort on my part to make “Woman” by Mumford and Sons, “In the Earthen Womb” from Illusion of Gaia, and “Radio Ballet” by Eluvium actually work. Lots of playing around with octaves to try to avoid 8th notes with the same two notes. All of them required meticulous planning, and then meticulous marking and hole-punching, praying that I didn't make any mistakes.

...In case you don't remember or haven't received them, you'll find them here:

And I made one more, too. But this one wasn't for you; it was for another friend. I wonder if you recall this one:

...Even with going paperless with Audacity, there's still number of limitations. For example, though it is a 30-note music box, the F note only appears twice, which is... infuriating in a variety of respects. I'd have a whole lot more freedom if I had even one more F note. And I'd have a whole lot more freedom if the upper and lower octaves weren't abridged.

There are some people working on a thing called a 40-note Muro box. It works with midi files, apparently, which is amazing, since I can make midi files using LMMS (and, in fact, LMMS is primarily where I plan my music boxes, in any case!).

...I want it; I could do so much more with so fewer limitations. But it's not in production for real yet. And it's entirely possible that it might not be in production for real, ever. Still... can you imagine what I could do with this...? With 10 more notes of freedom to move...? Why, the possibilities would be practically endless...!!!

...Maybe someday!! Hopefully!

Well. I guess it's about that time. Hopefully tomorrow I'll make more progress on the current music box fixation; I guess we'll see. Hopefully tomorrow, too, I won't be as sick as compared to today (as opposed to today, in which I am more sick as compared to yesterday... fucken lame...).

Either way, there is guaranteed soup in my future. Soup is good for the body. There are hydrating fluids and juicy nutrients in it!!! If you're feeling badly, make sure you get some!!!

I'm gonna stop writing and go to bed now. I'm probably going to have sleep with my nose plugged up with rolled-up tissue paper, and this annoys me, but it's better than the alternative. Worse things have happened, so it's really not a big deal.

I love you. Please take good care of your body and mind so that you can make good choices while you're out and about. I'll be over here, cheering you on and wishing for your safety and happiness, like I always do. Please build a wholesome life you can thrive in; it's not out of reach.

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine