#better than the sun frying u actively

[istanbulite]

weathers windy n grey ~ time for me to go out ✧*｡

[tinywordsblog]

The Cats are Here to Stay

At any given point, there is at least one stray cat in the River Lot Bus Stop. On top of that, there are usually about five more scattered in the grass, sleeping on the sidewalks, and hiding in the bushes. This is a fact that can be sturdily relied on. I’ve never known any different.

When people ask me how small California, Pa. is, I tell them that there are only 2 stoplights, one of which I’ve only encountered when leaving town to go to the closest Walmart in the next one over. I tell them that there are really only 4 restaurants, but that’s only if you count Dairy Queen as a restaurant. I tell them that Cal U’s campus is half the town, and that that’s seasonally the main source of life in California. (And, it’s truly the only place I can get a veggie burger without having to cook my own). 

I spend half of my time in this small town, in a small apartment with my partner. Over 2 and a half years, we’ve gotten to know California in bits and pieces. We knew that the town was small, and almost so quiet that you’d expect ghosts around every corner. We frequented our favorite French fry restaurant in town, and we’d stop at the Rite Aid whenever we needed. Other than that, we got to know the campus a lot better. 

So what happens when a pandemic strikes, campus is forced to close, your beloved French fry restaurant is forced to shut down, and the already-small town becomes an even smaller half-town? How do we prepare to live life in a ghost town? 

This is the first year that my partner has had an apartment of his own--5 blocks from Cal U, at the very entrance to California. We moved in days after the University had announced its decision to move its Fall semester entirely online. However, in a time where California should have seemed desolate and empty, I started to fall in love with it. 

Really, this became apparent when I sought to photograph the aforementioned Cal U stray cats. 

As a self-declared cat-lady, my first run-in with these strays was rather exciting. I was on the phone with Tony, asking for directions to his dorm when I noticed them in the bus stop near the Guest Parking Lot. There were about 8 congregated in the enclosed bus stop, and I wondered what made California so special that this number of strays would set up shop here. I’m from a town bigger than Cal, but I’ve never seen so many all at once. So, why here? 

The answer came earlier this week, when I sought to photograph at least one of these parking-lot residents. When I neared the River Lot bus stop--like I said, finding a stray in there was a given--I noticed that I hadn’t been the only one with the strays on my mind. There was in fact a cat bathing in the dwindling evening sun, and he was resting next to what looked to be a D.I.Y. cat house: A storage container with a shakily-carved door, filled with blankets. Just a few feet away was a disposable roasting pan piled high with cat food. 

Inside an obsolete bus stop, in an empty parking lot, in a nearly-empty town, the locals had brought the gift of love and comfort to a pack of stray cats. The cats had been there for so long that I don’t doubt these acts of love have recurred for years. 

As Tony and I made our way across campus--and through town--we photographed what we saw as instances of life and love within it.

When the news first reached us of another virtual semester, we were instantly wary. Wouldn’t California be a ghost town without the students? Without the second half of the town? 

Walking down the main street (which is really Third Street, not Main Street), the world of California, Pa. seemed to open up: The Weeping Willow that covers one of the sidewalks is longer than ever, to the point where you almost have to duck under its umbrella to cross. There are ladders and tools under the stained glass windows behind Old Main, a sign that the art will be preserved. And the art--the marble statues, the intricately carved columns, the checkered flooring--lives on, quietly maintaining the history of the town. In our small apartment, the light still filters through the bathroom window, casting rainbows on the floor, giving us something to look forward to each day. The houses whose windows are plastered with Pride flags, messages of positivity and acceptance, and marks of activism stand strong. Though I’ve never seen the occupants of those homes, I know something of them. Something of how they, too, continue to live and to love. 

And the strays, and the locals that care for those strays from afar. They live on and love on as well. And they do so quietly, gently. Not causing ripples, but subtle waves of comfort and care. 

At one point, we--and I really do mean a very broad, global ‘we’--feared a seemingly inevitable ghost town. The road ahead was empty, abandoned. But along that road, there are bus stops. And in those bus stops are families of stray cats. And in those stray cats are bellies full of food from locals with hearts full of love.

[eversall]

Would you do a jimon first kiss fic for the prompt gentle peck and hot steamy kiss? I ❤️ u so much your writing makes my day better

that’s so nice thank you so much!!! i hope you like this and it was somewhat close to what you were imagining lmao

“You’re brooding.” Jace announces loudly, and Simon jumps from his spot in an alley, lurking in the little sliver of a shadow a building is providing and looking longingly at the sunlit street beyond like it’s the forbidden lands and not something he can actually stand in. 

“I’m not.” Simon says peevishly. “How do you do that?” Jace shrugs, half-smirks at that. 

“I’m the greatest Shadowhunter alive.” He responds, gesturing to himself. “You can barely knock on the door without ripping it off its hinges.” 

“That was once.” Simon says, scowling deeply, and Jace laughs at the way his brow furrows and he looks like a disgruntled kitten. He crosses his arms and knocks his shoulder against Simon’s, gently. 

“Go out in the sun, it’s not going to bite you.” He says instead of the sentence that seems permanently lodged on the tip of his tongue around Simon, you’re gorgeous and I want to see what you’d feel like over me. It’s an inappropriate thought, even if Clary gave her blessing for her ex-brother to date her ex-boyfriend. Which is weird, but sweet, in her own strange, Clary-like way. 

“Excuse me if I don’t want to suddenly end up like a well done French fry.” Simon mutters, and Jace snorts. 

“Seeing as it’s my blood in you,” he says, and tries to ignore the way Simon looks sharply at him at that, his eyes dark and inscrutable, “I want to assure you that I’ve never let anyone down in regards to…parts of my body.” He leers at Simon, who splutters in outrage and throws his hands up. 

“Don’t you have some other girls to put as notches on your bed, or whatever ridiculous, outdated Lothario thing you think you’re doing?” He asks snidely, frowning at Jace, and Jace takes a step back, frowning hard as he realizes what Simon thinks of him. He shrugs, careful to keep the emotion out of his face. 

“Whatever.” He says, and it comes out forcefully casual, enough that Simon actually blinks and looks shocked. 

“Jace, I - “ He begins, and Jace shakes his head. 

“Just go out in the sun,” he says quietly, staring at a spot to the left of Simon, “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” 

“Oh.” is all that Simon says, and then he moves, and he’s standing in the sun in the dingy alley, his eyes bright as the light paints his skin golden, highlights the strong cut of his jaw and cheekbones, the slope of his nose and chin. “Oh.” 

Jace can’t help but smile, a little sadly, as he sees Simon’s hands flutter and his palms turn upwards, like he’s trying to catch every little drop of sunlight, not let anything slip through his fingers. 

“Jace.” Simon says, and his voice is giddy with happiness. “This is like the third day I’ve walked in the sun and I’m still not over it.” 

“No?” Jace asks, laughing now. “I can tell, you look like you’re high off of something.” 

“Mmm.” Simon closes his eyes briefly, and then seems to steel himself for something, opening them again and meeting Jace’s gaze. 

“I feel like I have to tell you now, while you’re feeling charitable towards me,” Simon says, nervously running a hand through his hair, “but, um - I know you’ve got a thing or something for Clary, but I - I think I - I like you? I mean, I like you. I want to take you out to dinner, and, and date you, because you’re - you’re you, and you make me smile, and you’ve been there for me when I needed it. Hell, you saved my life - “

Jace can barely comprehend the words spilling out of Simon’s mouth, can barely hear over the rushing in his head, his heart pounding away in his chest as he watches something like a dream unfold in front of him - Simon, here, wanting him as badly as he wants Simon, and this - good things don’t work out for Jace like this - 

He strides forward before he can second-guess himself, cradling Simon’s face and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips to stem the flow of words. He can’t help himself, can’t help but press in close for a second, relishing the soft sound of surprise that Simon makes, before he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Simon’s. 

“Yeah.” Jace says, and he clears his throat, his voice hoarse. “It’s you. It’s been you.”

“Holy shit.” Simon breathes out in wonder. “This is - this is happening.” 

“Go out with me, Lewis.” Jace says, and he smiles, small and genuine, because it’s Simon, looking at him like he hung the moon, and it makes Jace feel like a better person, like a good man. 

“Yeah.” Simon says, “Yeah.” Jace laughs and goes to pull away, his hands dropping from their hold on Simon, and Simon shakes his head suddenly, his eyes intent. 

“I wanna kiss you.” Simon says, and that’s the only warning Jace gets before he’s suddenly pushed backwards into the alley, his back hitting the wall as Simon’s lips seal over his, hard and demanding. Simon kisses like he doesn’t know his own strength, alternating between tugging at Jace’s lip with his blunt, human teeth, sending tendrils of lust curling through him, and pressing their lips together, slick and open-mouthed, filthy in the best possible way as he swipes his tongue over Jace’s bottom lip. 

Jace moans, caught off guard, and Simon presses in harder, deeper, his tongue sliding against Jace’s, one of his hands coming up to tug at Jace’s carefully styled hair, finding the tiny pins he uses and pulling them out. Jace gasps, his hands scrabbling wildly for purchase, digging into the firm muscle of Simon’s back as he holds on and kisses back, his nose dragging along Simon’s cheek. The alley is filled with the slick noise of their kisses and Jace’s ragged breathing, the slight whimper that rises in his throat, unbidden, every time that Simon’s grip on his hair tightens. 

He’s getting light-headed from lack of air, so he tears himself away, managing to get out “Simon, Simon” as he sucks air back into his lungs, and Simon’s other hand is clutching at Jace’s hip, thumb dipping below his jeans to drag across the warm skin there. 

“I’ve been dreaming about this.” Simon mutters, before he skims his lips across Jace’s jaw, pressing kisses against the faint stubble. Jace tilts his head up, slightly, and Simon hisses, nosing at the fragile skin of Jace’s neck, the tip of a fang dragging gently across the skin. 

“I’m not going to bite you.” Simon assures him, and Jace hums his assent as Simon tightens his grip in Jace’s hair and presses human teeth to the spot just below Jace’s ear, biting and laving at the spot until Jace swears he can feel the imprint of a mean hickey beginning. He shudders then, the thought of Simon marking him more arousing than he ever thought possible; he’s physically bigger than Simon but in that moment he feels small under him, like Simon’s breaking him apart and putting him back together. 

“We’re in public.” he protests, his voice rough, even though they’re in an alley nobody’s passing by, and Simon snickers against his neck, pulling back to look at Jace. The hand he has in Jace’s hair makes it’s way to Jace’s ear so he can press his fingers against the mark he left there, a pleasantly delicious ache twinges through Jace’s body at the point where Simon is touching him. 

“Glamour rune, aren’t you the greatest Shadowhunter alive?” Simon asks, grinning crookedly, and oh, Jace can’t let him get away with that kind of attitude, so he growls and lets his eyes flash golden as he activates the rune effortlessly, enjoying the way Simon’s pupils dilate at the sight. 

“You’re making me such an easy date, putting out immediately.” Simon sighs, and Jace smirks. 

“I think you’ll survive.” He says lowly, flipping them and holding Simon against the wall, grinning wickedly as Simon swallows. He pushes his knee against Simon’s and forces his legs open, stepping into the space and rolling their hips together. Simon throws his head back and groans, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Easy it is.” Simon says, his voice strangled. 

“Not easy.” Jace says, and his voice comes out softer than he thought it would, thick with affection as he presses a soft kiss to Simon’s mouth. “Irresistible.” 

And he swears, for a moment he feels like he could fly at the brilliant smile Simon responds with, his heart wildly pounding in his chest as he thinks that he could get used to that smile, for as long as Simon will give it. 

[ruleandruinrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, HARANA!

You have been accepted for the role of DRUVIK JADEJA with a faceclaim change to Toni Mahfud. Admin Rosey: My sweet, beloved, incredibly flawed Druvik. I am absolutely thrilled to be entrusting him into your hands -- how could I not, after reading this beautiful application? From your promises to bring him to his knees, to your para sample that captured moments of his life more accurately than I could have imagined. Those moments, for me, were one of my favorite things about him. His moments with his family, under the blessing of the stars. Those, and the little headcanons that gave me a peek into what more there was to Druvik, are what sealed the deal. Thank you so much for beautiful application and welcome to Rule&Ruin! You have 24 HOURS to send in your account. Also, remember to look at the CHECKLIST. Welcome to Ravka!

OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS: Harana / K

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: CST ! And I’m on summer break so i can get on pretty much every other day. Sometimes daily if the muse is strong enough. Weekends have a habit of being iffy for me (especially when the husband is home from deployment). But tbh I’ve never had issue with keeping up activity. If something RL comes up I always keep open communication with admins if I need to take a hiatus.

TRIGGERS: OMITTED

CURRENT/PAST ACCOUNTS:

http://orionmassetti.tumblr.com/ (active)

http://havenromulus.tumblr.com/ (defunct)

https://militansdeo.tumblr.com/ (active)

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER: Druvik Jadeja

D R U V I K : Musical, friendly, dynamic–named after his grandfather. And it was ill-suited for the man. Druvik’s grandfather was prone to drawn out bouts of silence, often sitting apart from the family with a pipe hanging crooked from the corner of his mouth, letting the smoke spill in lazy waves from cracked and parted lips. He preferred to leave Druvik’s grandmother to fill in the spaces of conversation.

But unlike his grandfather, the name suited Druvik. As a baby he’d toddle to the knees of strangers, charming patrons with his deep-set dimples and a wide toothless smile. And as he grew older, the meaning of his name dazzled in the crowds he captivated (dynamic), in the friends he caught, tangled, kept close (friendly). Even his most simple and innocuous movements seemed to follow the beat of some quiet song only he could hear (musical).

J A D E J A : The stories of the Jadeja clan extended as far back to the first stones set in Os Alta. The earliest have them in Caryeva, where the tales claim a golden goat blessed their family with their first herd, five animals for five sons and their families. From there, the stories traveled to Keramzin where the stars taught them to dance. In Os Kervo, the moon shared it’s music, the solid, slow slap of their feet keeping time in the dirt to the sweep of their arms and the swaying of their hips. Then Novo-Kribirsk, where the ocean waves gifted them with sea glass to sell and shells to weave in fabric and fine jewelry. The stories of their family flowed from Vlensk, Tsibeya, Os Alta, Poliznaya, then back to Caryeva again. While some of the nomadic families eventually settled in cities and small towns, the Jadejas made the entirety of Ravka their home, and would have continued to follow the path the stories of their forebears had set for them if it wasn’t for the Fold.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?

Okay. I have a type. I enjoy them spoiled, over dramatic, clever, prone to exaggerated displays and using five words when one would have been enough. Granted, Druvik doesn’t fit all of those traits. But really–when I read his bio, I immediately added it to my bookmarks and said, “Yes. This one. Good.” Because I usually know after a first read if a character will fit my writing style. And Druvik will only bring me joy and pleasure to write.

And it helps that he has flaws I relate to. His impossible attempts to please and win everyone over. His difficulty saying no and his attempts to do the right thing, despite it not being exactly what is needed or even wanted in the moment. Druvik’s pursuit of personal pleasure has made him ignorant to the repercussions of his selfishness. And this leaves me with so much to work with.

WHAT FUTURE PLOT IDEAS DID YOU HAVE IN MIND?

I.  DRUG TW: The drug was called Magha. It came in small, clear and corked bottles, the liquid inside it a deep shade of violet, nearly blue while held up to the light. When shaken–glittering particles bubbled up from the bottom and swirled silver through the drink. Magha had a sweet flavor hitting the tongue. Not too cloying, more fluid than syrup but thicker than water. And once it settled in the stomach and seeped into the nervous system, saturating veins and weaving in with blood–oh, the impossible dreams it dragged out.

It was a clever little concoction. It’s makeup was based on a traditional Suli herbal remedy. But Druvik corrupted it’s natural makeup with the small science. It was disrespectful–tainting a medicine meant for healing, all to make a pretty coin. He was spitting on the history of his people. But Druvik didn’t see it that way. He’d convinced himself he was doing the people of Ketterdam a service. Magha dragged out pure joy from the most bitter of hearts. Any outside touch was pleasure. Any flavor to the tongue bursting and ripe. And for this small favor, wasn’t it his due that his pockets were made heavy with coin? The fingers that worked to bring them pleasure, surely they could be forgiven for bearing their weight in silver rings and milky and iridescent opals? And so Druvik lounged guiltless on his small fortune, a lazy and rapacious dragon. And his admirers slammed their fists on his doors, begging for more, always more, just one last taste of Magha.

And he abandoned them.

I want this sin to follow him to Os Alta. I want him to be forced to face the repercussions of his naive selfishness (he never intends to hurt). Druvik has strolled through life without a care of those caught in the wake of his self-centered world view, and I want it shaken by his past. He can only willfully blind himself for so long. There is a price for vanity, and perhaps it’s time for Druvik to pay it.

II.  All Druvik wants is comfort. After half his life spent suffering as a nomad, ill-suited for the sparsity of Suli life, he finally found it in Ketterdam. But he’s been forced to abandon it, slipping back to Ravka at the threat of discovery–both for being Grisha, and for manufacturing a drug so potent and addicting that once taken? Reality forever paled without it. And just the name of his new home–Little Palace–charmed him. Surely he would live like a prince? Instead, Druvik found himself slaving and sweating over poisons, his nails blackened by gunpowder and forced to serve in the Second Army as if he were something expendable and his face was meant to be scarred. It was too much like his past–the traveling, the grit, even if the Grisha were afforded a shabbier glamour.

So Druvik is terribly unmotivated. Careless and haphazard with his work. However if properly pushed, he is capable of creating weapons of extreme potency. Poisons that steal away the senses, and gunpowder that seeps into human skin, turning them into living bombs. But those moments are scarce. And he cannot always have someone at his side to push him to do his work.

So this can lead to dangerous consequences. Either his weapons backfiring and causing danger to those he works with, or his poisons proving unreliable, abandoning his fellow Grisha to precarious situations. He is a soldier now, and I want his eyes opened to the part he really plays as an Alkemi of the Second Army.

III. There is conflict between the First and Second armies. A rift between Grisha and those that see them as aberrations. But Druvik can’t be bothered. He thinks the rivalry is petty. He considers it something easily risen above, not even bothering to dissect the deeply rooted and historical reasons behind the division.

Druvik simply believes he is being the better man. That by befriending and loving both humans and Grisha indiscriminately, he is an example to be followed. But ultimately, he is Grisha. His usage of the small science will not endear him to everyone. I want him to trust someone who isn’t Grisha. To adore them, only to be used and discarded. For a man who abandons indiscriminately, I would like him to taste how bitter it is to be left behind, tossed aside, and seemingly forgotten by someone he considered a friend.

WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO HAVE YOUR CHARACTER DIE?: If it furthers the plot, of course! Murder away.

IN DEPTH

IN CHARACTER PARA SAMPLE(S):

The day Druvik turned six there was a full moon.

Auspicious, his grandmother claimed. And the weather was mild, the winds cool but the sun hot, caught between spring and summer. Their caravan stopped for the day to celebrate, finding a small spring by a crag of rocks, shielding them from the wind. Auspicious, his grandmother repeated, and she pinched his cheeks.

Druvik’s mother took a handful of sugar and sprinkled it into a wooden bowl, the confection glittering like silver in the light (just as rare, just as precious) as she kneaded it into the flour and butter with hands that were calloused, cracked, worn. A Suli’s hands, ravaged by summer winds, the open sun, the constant tearing down of caravans and the chafe from the leather reins of mules. Druvik knew the sweet cakes would take all day to bake. And he hovered, breaking off little pieces with his fingers when his mother’s back was turned, crumbs catching on the corners of his mouth, the sweet bread melting on his tongue. He tasted nuts and dried berries, sugar and sticky honey.

For dinner his father cut generous slices of dried beef, frying them over the campfire. They sizzled and spit, sliding in their own fat like snakes. There was enough for their bellies to feel full. A change from the usual meager portions their family rationed out of necessity while traveling to the next populated place to perform.

They feasted. They sang. They danced. Not the gaudy and garish movements they performed for customers with the intent of earning coin. But dances passed down the line of Jadejas, each slow glide of arms, every shift of feet in the grass telling a story. Of life, of death, of love, of loss–and they moved in unison under the full moon and bright scatter of stars.

Later, when Druvik’s face was flushed from sipping his grandfather’s wine, he laid back on the grass with his head on his grandmother’s soft belly as she pointed to the stars. “That one. There, to the left. My gift to you, little Vik.” Bony fingers tracing back six stars, one for each of his years, the beginnings of the constellation the Suli called Magha–the bountiful one.

Druvik drifted off to sleep. He was half-awake when his father gathered him up to lay him next to his sister on the blankets. On his birthday, he felt important. Loved. Worshiped.

In the morning, the dream would melt in the beating hot sun and the unforgiving Ravkan plains.

—

Druvik was eleven when he first felt the stirrings of that desperate want, that growing appetite for more than the meager portions Suli life served him.

They’d crossed paths with a sizable merchant convoy, the cream colored tents somber and severe next to the mottled red, blue, green, and purple fabric his family tied down over their caravans to hold the attention of patrons. His grandmother knotted glass bells to their ankles. When they moved, there was music.

His mother told fortunes, face hidden by a worn jackal mask, practiced voice low and haunting as she sifted through the coffee dregs at the bottom of elephant shaped china. Her fingers held the teacups up by their trunks. Love, long life, wealth, prosperity–what their patrons paid with their copper coins to hear. And the merchants–Druvik tried not to stare as they stuffed their mouths full of fresh meat,  and filled their cups to the brim with wine. He turned his face when they carelessly spilled water while washing their hands, and observed with longing as they gorged themselves on cakes with white icing and biscuits topped with a generous scatter of brown sugar. More in one evening than his family divided among themselves in a week.

After dinner his sister danced, colored veils whipping like iridescent butterfly wings, her limbs gliding through the air like water. His father’s scimitars rolled off his muscled arms, spiraled through the air, landing on the tips of spread fingers.

Druvik’s performance was both danger and dance. And he picked up two small lamps by their chains, stepping up to a sizable group of merchants. A bow, then he whirled the fire through the air with the grace of falling stars, quick and bright and a bit too savage to be called beautiful. The flames smeared light in shapes of animals, flowers, harsh in the early evening shadows. Faster, faster, faster–until a thin sheen of sweat gathered on his neck, his chest, and he glowed like a young god in the slashes of light, the lamps spinning over his head, under his legs as he leaped over the merchants, their heads craning to follow as he landed lightly on his feet.

Druvik bowed low to the applause, little chest heaving as he snatched at breath. By the strength of their voice and the clapping of their hands, he knew he would earn well.

Later, as his family collected their coins, a man approached Druvik, kneeling in front of him with both fists extended.

“Pick one.”

Druvik tapped the man’s left hand, and it opened to reveal a silver dragonfly, its eyes green stones and its wings studded with blood red crystals. The man fastened it to Druvik’s hair.

“Boys as beautiful as you are wasted here.” The brush of stubble on Druvik’s cheek startled him as the man pressed a kiss there, before moving to join his companions.

Heart skipping, Druvik snatched the dragonfly from his hair and pocketed it. But his mother had seen. And as soon as they left to dress down into their usual cloaks she’d snatched it from him.

“But–that was given to me.”

“Everything in our family? We share.” She dropped it into their sack of coins. “What will you do with such a thing? Strut among the sand dragons and vultures?”

How terrible. How cruel. And Druvik swiped the back of his hand over his thick lashes, smearing the tears.

But it would haunt him–the man’s words.

Boys as beautiful as you are wasted here.

His chin stopped quivering. His mouth set, and his eyes grew resolute.

He deserved better.  

—

Falling in love was easy for a man like Druvik–who grew soft and pliable under attention. Whose devotion could be bought by trinkets and treats, metallic jewelry that reflected his pretty face and candies placed on his tongue, melting thick and saccharine down the back of his throat.

Druvik loved generously. But his attention was often spread thin, and he was fickle. Easily diverted. To have the undivided passion of his heart–there was a price. And fortunately for Druvik, many were willing to cater to the whims of a beautiful, young Suli boy, whose body moved like a large cat’s as he danced. Lithe, nimble, but with an undeniable force as his illusions scattered around him and the tent grew dark and dim, with only the fire in his hands to light the small space.

Many had claimed to love him, but only Darius had offered to take him away.

Ketterdam, Darius explained, was a city surrounded by the sea. Where buildings knocked against each other for space, and their doors gaped open to spit thick clusters of people out into the streets. Darius’ father was a merchant there, and at eighteen, Darius would soon follow suit. And Druvik listened as the man described the silks they would import from Shu Han, firebirds and dragons embroidered on the sleeves of robes, and the white jade bracelets that brought wisdom. Of Fjerdan metalworks, swords sharp enough to cut stone, rings with drops of blood stone, and marble rocks carved into wolves. And Druvik was charmed, eyes wide and dark in the flickering shadows of Darius’ tent.

“Someday–I want to see it.” Druvik lowered his voice, intimate and sweet. “For now, at least I have this.” He toyed with the white jade on his wrist.

“What if–” Druvik heard Darius shift, and he sighed as the merchant combed his fingers through his hair. Darius’ voice wavered in the dark. “Come with me.”

Druvik startled. How wicked. “Don’t tease.” Letting out a huff of air and drawing away.

Darius’ hand found his wrist, fingers tight, demanding, refusing to relent. “I’m not teasing.” The words came faster, as if he could stave Druvik’s doubt with a flood of promises. “I’ll provide your room. Your board. Anything you need. Just–please. Dance for me. That’s all I ask for.”

Druvik laughed, the sound low and teasing, but not cruelly so. And he pressed his open mouth to Darius’ collarbone.

“Dance with me then.”

The next morning, Darius went ahead. And as he promised, he secured Druvik passage across the True Sea several days later.

Druvik boarded the boat, fiddling with the white jade bracelet on his wrist. And he thought of firebird silks and of a city filled to bursting. Of how he could use his gift of the small science to draw the people of Ketterdam to him, devoted to the green glass bottles in his satchel, filled with his little magics, liquid illusions for them to suck into their lungs so everything brought bliss.

He did not think of his mother, father, or sister. Nor of his grandmother, weak and ailing

Stepping to the bow of the ship, Druvik simply saw the ocean. And it was beautiful, blue, and full of promise.

CHARACTER HEADCANONS:

-  Druvik is frightened of water. He never learned to swim, and stubbornly refuses to do so even with the lake so close to the Little Palace. He’ll dip his feet in, and gingerly descend until his waist. But if anyone attempts to draw him deeper he’ll quickly retreat. Surprisingly, this fear doesn’t extend to the ocean. He finds it too beautiful, and the prospect of new places waiting across the broad expanse of water diverts him.

- His grandmother was also a Grisha. As a young girl, another Suli had taken her in and trained her, their methods more in-tune with nature and the seasons. She tested all her children for the gift. Then her grandchildren. Only Druvik shared her skill of manipulating the elements. They made medicines to share and sell, crafted trinkets to catch the eye, and wove impossible details into fabric. Unlike the Grisha of the Little Palace, he and his grandmother never divided their skills into Durasts and Alkemi. They embraced their power as a whole. And their methods were unconventional, deeply rooted in history and tradition. Even now, as Druvik does his work in the Small Palace, his approach to Alkemi is seen as odd among his peers. He’s known to leave dangerous combustibles to steep for five evenings under the moon. For poisons to sit in the snow to freeze, taking them in to melt, then out to freeze again. Either there is meaning to Druvik’s methods, or it’s a testament to his skill as an Alkemi–but his poisons and powders have an undeniable potency.

- Druvik has always been the envious sort. He’s always pined for what he doesn’t have, and vies for things that others own. Clothes and jewelry, money and rare trinkets from around Ravka. This behavior extends not only to objects but to people. Druvik tends to gravitate towards the ones that shine brightest, stand tallest, those that take control and make decisions so all he has to do is shift along to accommodate. So it’s in his nature to sidle next to the more powerful Grisha. His adoration for the Sun Summoner and the Darkling is open and obvious. While he is Alkemi, he will often spend time he should be working in Durasts’ work stations, making small brooches of glowing, gold suns and white pearls for Gemma to pin in her hair or keftas, and heavy black rings with shadows swimming in the silver for Aleksander. Other Grisha might accuse him of currying favor. And he is, in a way. But he’d always loved the image Gemma and Aleksander present as leaders of the Grisha, and he’d never been very good at taming his affections.

- His work ethic is questionable at best. He has no love for creating weapons. He finds it barbaric. Tasteless. Druvik believes his small science was meant for pleasure not pain, to deliver bliss and not misery. So when tasked with Alkemi duties for the war, he often puts forth the bare minimum of effort. If given the right attention and motivation, he can be caught up in spurts of impulsive tinkering, afternoon hours bleeding into late nights until his work table spills over with pretty poisons and deadly, glittering powders. But he’s more likely to be found creating sweet addictions during work time than the projects he’s actually tasked with.

- He is notorious for currying favor among the nobles. They have power, prestige, but more importantly–wealth. And Druvik was always a man who enjoyed a good spoiling. So he is often found with small groups of nobles, earning an intimate spot in their circles with his pretty face and words dripping sweet and thick. He demurs when they offer gifts, but always takes them. He’s been known to find himself patrons among the nobility to fund the luxury he enjoys.

- He loves people. Adores them. Is devoted to many and lavishes each with positive attention. But ultimately, Druvik seems to only consider them additions to his own narrative. He’s never been tethered to anyone. Not even Darius, to whom he owes his escape from the Suli lifestyle, abandoned in Ketterdam with the rest. Ever fickle, ever advancing in that constant need satiate his appetite for life and lavishness, he is blindsided by his passions. He doesn’t purposefully ignore the repercussions he wrecks among those he leaves behind. Perhaps, despite abandoning his Suli way of life, it continues to reflect in the way he moves forward, never wasting time looking back.

EXTRAS: I have a pintrest board here.

ANYTHING ELSE? OMITTED.

[boelca]

Fatesona Challenge! Day 10: C-S-Support - Joe/Scarlet

Write one support conversation with (canon fates units or other fatesonas) that would end in marriage with that character (i.e. S-Supports).

A/N Because I'm self-indulgent trash. Also it seems like I'm slightly sadist (technically a little masochistic too) since I like destroying my poor fatesona's heart huehue I’m not 100% happy with this, but I need to move on from this day orz

Support: Joe/Scarlet

C-Support Joe: Alright, you can do this, Joe. Just go up and ask her your questions. Just smile nice n' polite and be real *gulp* polite and nevermind the fact that she's built like an Amazonian warrior princess and could probably snap you in half like a twig... Okay, you know what? Let's, uh, maybe wait on this for a day... or two... or twenty-four... Scarlet: Hmm? Hey, you there! What's with the loitering? See something ya like? Joe: GRRK! Scarlet: Whoa, you okay? Joe: Y-YEAH! I mean, um, yeah! I'm totally fine, just handy-dandy! Never better!... Uh... Hi! I'm Joe! Scarlet: Name's Scarlet. Are ya sure you're okay? Ya kinda look a little shaky. Joe: Oh, I'm fine! I just, uh, um... *sigh* Hey, do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions? I've been burning with curiosity about a few things, and I'd really appreciate it if you could help me. Scarlet: Sure! I don't mind! Fire away! Joe: O-Okay! Um, I've noticed that your weapons are really... what's the word? Decorated? Yeah, decorated. Do you do that yourself, or do you buy your weapons like that? Or, do you hire someone else to do them? Scarlet: Nah, I make 'em shiny all by myself! The gal who taught me the technique called it mosaic, and it's one of my favorite things to do. Joe: Mosaic? That's so cool! How do you create them? Scarlet: Well, first, I...

B-Support Joe: Hello, Scarlet! Scarlet: Yo, Joe! More questions, I take it? Joe: Yup! But, uh, before I ask this one, I just wanna let you know that you can not answer anytime you want, and it definitely won't offend me at all! Scarlet: Hmm? Now you're making me a bit nervous. You askin' after my love life or somethin'? Joe: N-No way! I'd never just jump right into your personal life like that, I swear! No, I j-just wanted to let you know is all! Scarlet: I'm just playing! Haha, so what's your question? Joe: I'd like to know more about the knights of Cheve, if it's okay? We heard about y'all all the way in Izumo, and I'm just curious about what your company is exactly. Scarlet: First, the knights of Cheve and my company aren't the same thing, though my company is made up of Chevois knights. Second, what you've probably heard about is the resistance, which was started and is comprised of mostly my company, but is bigger than just my men. Joe: Ahh... okay! Well, then, what prompted you to be the, um, what's the word... driving force...? Yeah, driving force of the resistance then? Scarlet: I couldn't stand what King Garon was doing to his people, and I couldn't trust the Nohrian nobility to do right by the common folk, either. So, I took matters into my own hands to protect the citizens of Nohr. And citizens everywhere, really! I just can't stand by and let someone innocent get hurt, ya know? Joe: ...Wow... You really are like some awe-inspiring warrior princess, fighting for the good of her people! Scarlet: Hah! Warrior princess? I like the sound of that! Joe: Well, it's true! You're always so regal-looking, not to mention you're really a force of nature on the battlefield! You're seriously like a fairy tale hero! Scarlet: Haha, keep talking and I'll have to start asking after your intentions! Joe: *blush* ... *passes out* Scarlet: H-Hey!

A-Support Scarlet: Yo, Joe! Back at it again with some more questions? Joe: You know it! I don't know if I've said it yet, but thanks so much for being so patient with all of my questions. I normally would've read up on the info myself, but... it's kinda hard to read a book about something recent like the resistance that hasn't been written down yet, y'know? Scarlet: Don't mention it! I like talkin' about home, especially with someone as eager to listen as you! Makes the missing not as strong. Joe: You miss home? Scarlet: Oh, all the time! Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to be here and all, fighting the good fight, but I do miss my fellas back home. It's taken some getting used to not waking up to the sounds and smells of Cheve. Joe: ...Do you mind telling me more about Cheve, then? I know it's a small country south of Nohr, and I know that it's famous for its knights. What are some of the customs and such there? Scarlet: Hmm, customs? Well, in Cheve, we believe that those who die turn into stars. Stargazing's really popular among the Chevois because of it. Joe: That sounds so... hmm... not melancholy... more like beautiful, I guess? It's such a... pretty way to think of death. Also kind of comforting, I guess. Scarlet: Isn't it, though? To think that my mom and pop are still watching over me wherever I go... Shining as brightly in death as they did in life... I think it's amazing. Joe: I like that idea, I think... Yeah, I like that a lot... *DING DING* Scarlet: Aw, damn, sounds like it's time for training. Sorry I got carried away! Ya didn't even get to hear that much about Cheve! Joe: Oh, no! It's totally fine! I'm so happy that I got to know you better! I really enjoyed hearing about such an awe-inspiring belief, so please don't worry about it! Scarlet: Hey, why don't we go stargazing sometime, and I'll tell ya more about Cheve? Joe: That'd be great! I look forward to it!

S-Support Scarlet: Joe! Over here! Joe: Hey, Scarlet! Sorry I took so long! I... sorta got involved in an incident in town. Scarlet: Seriously? You? What happened? Joe: Er, well, there was this guy yelling at this other guy who owned a ore-cart... thing, and he just kept talking down to the poor guy, and, of course, the guy who owned the cart couldn't say anything because the guy who was yelling had these big ol' bodyguards, and I just... lost it, I guess? I walked up to the cart and kinda pushed the other guy away, and I started politely conversing with the owner until the other guy tried to move me, and then I sorta kinda threatenedtokickhisbuttwithmytome... Scarlet: Woah, woah! Really? Joe: Yeah! The guy who owned the cart ended up giving me a huge discount n' stuff, too, even though I said I didn't need anything for it. I wasn't planning on buying any, but then I remembered your mosaics that you make, so, um... here ya go. Scarlet: Oh wow, there's so many! You shouldn't have, you crazy-generous sweetheart! I'll have to give one of your festals the razzle-dazzle treatment for this! And since when did you get so upfront? You're usually more timid! I would've thought you'd've called the town guard or something! Joe: Normally I would have, but... I guess I've taken your words to heart, ya know? I don't want to just be a bystander anymore. I want to actually take an active role in helping people. I want to... be more like you.   Scarlet: Nah, you don't need to be like me. You're perfect the way you are! Joe: Haha, not really. I'm working on it though! I mean, like I said, I'm trying to be more like you, and who's more perfect than you are? Haha! Scarlet: ...Ya really think I'm perfect? Joe: Hmm...? *pause* Oh my sweet gods, did I really say that out loud?! Scarlet: That you did! Joe: I-I-I, UM, UH- Scarlet: Calm down now! Your face looks like it's hot enough to fry a fish on, haha! There's nothing wrong with saying ya think I'm great! I think you're pretty great as well! Joe: U-Um, wow, uh, s-so, um, Cheve! W-We were gonna talk about Cheve, yeah?! Scarlet: Haha, yeah we were! But, before I answer another question for you, mind answering a question for me? Joe: N-Not at all. Scarlet: What do you plan to do after all this is over? Joe: Hmm? W-well, originally, I figured I'd go back home and keep studying and working, but now... I'm not so sure. I think I'll just go wherever someone like me's needed. Wherever I can be most of help, ya know? I AM trying to become a better person, after all. Scarlet: Well, if that's the case, ya could always come back to Cheve, with me. Joe: W-With you? Scarlet: Yeah! I'd love to show you Cheve first hand, and I know you could help us with any loose ends that'll come after all this. Not to mention, I'd really hate to be away from the girl I love! Joe: That sounds so- wait, girl you what now?! Scarlet: You heard me! I think you're the greatest gal ever! You're sweet n' bright like starlight, and I always feel so darn happy whenever ya come to talk to me! Not to mention, the way you focus on me and only me when I'm talking makes me feel like the only person in the world to you! Joe: Sw-sweet mother of all things good and holy, Scarlet... I... I don't know what to say. Not even in my wildest dreams did I ever think you'd also... Scarlet: Also? Aw, do you like me, too? Joe: N-No!... I... ugh, gimmee a second... I thought I'd have longer to figure this all out... I-I don't like you... I love you. I, um, darn it all, I had a whole speech and everything planned out in case this ever happened- not that I ever thought it would but- Gods, how do those people in the stories always manage to be so smooth?! Scarlet: Haha, Earth to Joe! Still with me? Joe: O-Oh, yeah! I just... *sigh* Scarlet, you're so much better than me at this... You've flustered the heck outta me! But, um... If I'm starlight, then you're the sun. You shine brighter than anyone I've ever met, and I, well, I've been drawn to you like a butterfly to a flower since I first met you! At first, you were just this amazing and awe-inspiring knight right out of my books. B-But then you just kept getting better and better the more I got to know you... I-I really do love you, Scarlet, a-and I'd be honored if you let me accompany you when you return to Cheve. Scarlet: ...And you said I flustered ya? Gods, Joe, ya know just what to say to a gal! Let's you and me help end this war! Together! Joe: Y-Yes! Together!

[dinakaplan]

Summer Fruits You’ll Love for Their Incredible Health Benefits and Tempting Tastes (Including 3 That Are Surprisingly Healthy!)

What fruits are in season in summer? And how can they benefit your health? Learn about summer fruits that are naturally delicious and bursting with benefits.

Ah, summer. The temperatures heat up, the days get longer, and activities abound. Fresh fruits can help you survive (and thrive!) all season long.

Summer fruits give you energy and nutrients your body needs, help cool you down and stay hydrated, and can even help protect you from the sun.

And overall, fruits have been found to be spectacularly effective in treating and preventing a variety of health conditions.

For example, they have been found to help reduce heart disease. The province of North Karelia in Finland convinced local dairy farmers to grow berries on some of their pasturelands to increase fruit consumption and improve the health of its citizens.

By replacing animal-based foods with berries, along with other healthful changes, in only one generation, the region went from having one of the highest rates of heart disease in the world to one of the lowest. In a population of 170,000 Finns, cardiovascular mortality dropped by more than 70% — an unparalleled achievement.

Impressive! But that’s not all… Fruits have also helped patients all over the world lose weight and lower LDL (bad) cholesterol levels. And contrary to popular belief, fruits can reduce your risk of developing type 2 diabetes.

Not to mention, fruit is naturally sweet (no added sugar needed) and oh so delicious — whether enjoyed on its own or in a smoothie, salad, dessert, or another dish.

Why Eat Fruit That’s In Season?

In today’s world, most fruits are available all year long.

But fruits in season are usually fresher, tastier, and more nutritious. When you eat foods the way nature intended, you get bright, crisp, flavorful, nutrient-rich foods.

Think for a moment about the joy of biting into a fresh, ripe piece of fruit, such as a peach. This is an entirely different experience than eating fruit that lacks the flavor and texture you expect, like out-of-season tomatoes.

Fruits in season are usually fresher, tastier, and more nutritious.

Nature gives us foods designed to support our health at the time they’re grown. So when you consume fruits in season, you’re giving your body the nutrients it needs to do its job and keep you well. And you may even feel more connected and in-tune with nature.

Seasonal fruits are also better for you. Rather than being picked early, seasonal fruits are typically allowed to ripen naturally. So, the plant has more exposure to sun, and the fruit has higher levels of antioxidants.

Plus, in-season fruits are usually at their best price — which means you can eat healthfully and stick to your budget.

As much as possible, choosing locally grown, seasonal produce is often the best choice for your health and for the planet. (This way, produce doesn’t have to be picked rock-hard and transported over long distances).

3 Summer Fruits That Are Stunningly Healthy and Naturally Delicious

Seeing more fruit at the farmers market and your local grocery store is a sure sign of summer.

The following three summer fruits are worth growing, picking, or selecting from the store. You’ll be surprised at how truly healthy they are…

Watermelons —  Beat The Heat with These Refreshing Fruits

With its bold red color and juicy taste, watermelon is a quintessential summer fruit.

It’s one of the more popular summer fruits (you can probably expect to see it at many parties and picnics). And it’s one of the most long-enjoyed fruits in the world — with its origins traced back 4,000 to 5,000 years to the continent of Africa.

Other than being fun to eat, watermelons are incredibly healthy. Plus, they are a great bargain food (one watermelon can feed up to a dozen people).

Watermelon season lasts from May through September. In the U.S. watermelons are grown across the country, but most are produced in warm states like Florida, Georgia, California, and Texas. Other key producers are North Carolina, South Carolina, Arizona, and Indiana.

And here’s a useful tool: If you’re in the U.S., you can scroll down on this link to see if there are watermelon growers near you.

Why watermelons are a healthy choice

Watermelons are much more than just water. These fruits are high in vitamin A (which is important for eye health and boosts immunity) and in vitamin C (which strengthens the immune system).

Watermelon has a good level of vitamin B6 (which also helps the immune system). And it’s also a good source of potassium, a mineral necessary for water balance (and preventing muscle cramps) that also helps keep your heart healthy.

And this fruit is a fantastic source of lycopene, a powerful antioxidant that protects skin from sun damage. In fact, the bioavailability of lycopene from watermelon appears to be even greater than from red tomatoes.

Watermelons help:

Prevent heat stroke

Prevent cancer

Boost your immune system

Support eye health and prevent macular degeneration

Support heart health and lower blood pressure

How to choose a watermelon

Look for a firm, symmetrical watermelon that is free from bruises, dents, or cuts.

Lift it up. The watermelon should be heavy for its size (because it’s mostly water).

Turn it over. The underside of the watermelon should have a creamy yellow spot from where it sat on the ground and ripened in the sun. (A white or pale green spot suggests immaturity.)

Also, you can knock on the watermelon. A fully ripened watermelon should have a deep, hollow sound when you knock on it, rather than a solid, shallow sound.

How to store watermelons

Store whole watermelons at room temperature.

Refrigerate cut watermelons in airtight containers and use within five days.

Fun facts about watermelons

Seedless watermelons are becoming more popular and available in the U.S. So you may wonder: Are they genetically modified? No, in fact, they are a hybrid, produced with cross-breeding, NOT genetic modification.

The watermelon flesh is delightful, but you can also eat the watermelon seeds (if it has any) and the watermelon rind.

Be sure to sprout and shell watermelon seeds before eating them to get rid of the hard, bitter seed coat. And you can try slicing watermelon rinds into a stir-fry or make watermelon rind pickles.

Mangoes — Treat Yourself with These Sweet, Sun-Colored Fruits

With their sweet, creamy taste, mangoes can help protect you from the summer heat and give you an energy boost.

This versatile tropical delicacy, sometimes known as the “king of fruit,” is another one of the most popular fruits in the world. In India, mangoes are sacred and thought to symbolize love.

Mangoes only ripen in the warmer months in summer. In the U.S., mangoes are grown in Florida, Hawaii, and southern California. India, China, Thailand, Indonesia, and Mexico are the world leaders in mango production.

Why mangoes are a healthy choice

Mangoes are much more than a sweet treat. All parts of the mango — bark, leaves, skin, and pit — have been used in folk remedies for treating and preventing a variety of ailments throughout the centuries.

The mango fruits have more than 20 vitamins and minerals and lots of fiber (which helps you stay full and is essential for good digestion).

They are an excellent source of vitamin A (good for your eyes and immune system) and vitamin C (which help fight infection and chronic disease) and a good source of potassium — in fact, they have even more of this mineral than bananas!

Plus, when you eat a mango, you’ll get the benefit of the antioxidant zeaxanthin, which filters out harmful blue light rays and helps protects eye health.

Though they can be very sweet, mangoes are relatively low on the glycemic index, so moderate quantities usually won’t spike blood sugar.

Mangoes can help:

Fight heat stroke

Boost the immune system

Control blood sugar

Help prevent cancer

Improve eye health

Ward off heart disease

How to choose a mango

Pick up the mango and lightly squeeze it. A ripe mango will give slightly, like a peach. Avoid fruits with sap on them.

Smell the mango at the stem. Ripe mangoes generally have a fragrant, sweet, fruity aroma.

Note: Mangoes are on the Environmental Working Group’s Clean Fifteen list, which means they have a relatively low amount of pesticides.

How to store mangoes

Firm mangoes can be left on the counter at room temperature for a couple of days to ripen. (Or place the fruit in a paper bag with an apple to speed up the process.)

You may be able to store ripe mangoes in the fridge for a few days without them going bad.

Store cut mango in an airtight container in the fridge and eat within one to two days.

How to cut a mango

Freshly cut mangoes have a taste and experience like no other fruit, but getting to the delicious flesh can be quite challenging.

While there may be more than one way to cut a mango (and this method might not work for all mangoes) — hopefully, this video will help you:

Strawberries — Enjoy These Juicy Bursts of Summer At Their Best

For many people, the taste of fresh strawberries means summer has arrived. In fact, June’s full moon is called the Strawberry Moon because it signaled the right time to gather wild strawberries for the Algonquin tribes.

Strawberries are the most popular berry in the U.S. and one of the most popular fruits — but guess what? A strawberry is technically not a berry or a fruit. The seeds of the strawberry, which are on the outside, are the true fruits, and the red, fleshy part holds the approximately 200 seeds together.

The peak season for strawberries is April through June. They grow in every state in the U.S., with California being the leading producer by far. Florida and Georgia are also top producing states. And they are the state fruit in Delaware, which has about two dozen U-pick strawberry farms. Strawberries are also grown in every province of Canada.

In the U.S., you can scroll down on this link to see if there are strawberry producers in your area.

If you can grow or find local strawberries, you’ll likely get the best taste possible. And if you aren’t always impressed by supermarket berries, consider this: The natural sugar begins converting to starch after it’s picked, so berries can get tart and grainy over time.

Why strawberries are a healthy choice

Strawberries may be common, but they are wonderfully healthy.

Strawberries have been used throughout history as a general health tonic and for a variety of medical conditions, such as digestive issues, teeth whitening, and skin irritations.

They are one of the top 50 foods containing the most antioxidants per serving (according to a 2016 study published in The American Journal of Clinical Nutrition) — so they are powerful disease-fighters.

Significant amounts of phytonutrients and flavonoids give them their bright color. Strawberries are high in vitamin C (more ounce for ounce than citrus fruit), fiber, and manganese (a trace mineral needed for many vital functions).

They are also a good source of potassium and folate (one of the B vitamins that converts carbs into energy, among other benefits). And they’re rich in antioxidants, such as quercetin, which is a natural anti-inflammatory.

Strawberries can help:

Ward off cancer

Boost your immunity

Reduce inflammation

Maintain healthy vision

Lower the risk of cardiovascular disease

Improved regulation of blood sugar, especially when consumed after a meal

How to choose strawberries

Choose shiny, firm, plump strawberries with a bright red color. Caps should be bright green and intact. (Once picked, they don’t ripen further.)

Avoid shriveled, mushy or leaky berries.

Note: If possible, choose organic strawberries to avoid pesticides. Strawberries are on the EWG’s Dirty Dozen list of produce with the most pesticides. Even worse, the pesticides used in conventional production are some of the most toxic.

How to store strawberries

Do not wash until ready to eat. Store in the fridge (in the crisper drawer if possible) for three to five days.

If one berry in the basket or bowl is molded, this means mold spores have probably traveled throughout the entire package, so all the strawberries should be washed well or, depending on the level of contamination, discarded.

Fun fact: When you remove the green cap, you tear cells in the fruit, activating an enzyme that destroys vitamin C — so only remove the leaves just before consuming or serving.

And Here’s A List of Summer Fruits:

Apricots

Blackberries

Blueberries (learn all about their health benefits here)

Boysenberries

Cantaloupe

Currants

Figs

Gooseberries

Grapes

Huckleberries

Limes

Lychee

Mangoes

Muskmelon

Nectarines

Papaya

Peaches

Pineapple

Plums

Raspberry

Strawberries

Watermelons

How to Find Out Which Fruits Are In Season Near You

Not all summer fruits may be available in your area. These tools and others may help you find which fruits are grown where you live:

The United States — Use this online seasonal food guide to search by state and time of year to see what produce is in season.

Canada — This online guide shows you what’s in season.

Australia — This online seasonal food guide shows you fruits in season by region.

The United Kingdom — This online resource tells you what foods are in season.

Celebrate Your Summer with the Taste of Fresh Fruit

You probably have fond memories of eating fresh fruits in the summertime, either fresh-picked or from the store.

I especially loved sitting in the grass and eating watermelon with a sprinkle of salt and having watermelon-seed-spitting contests with my family and picking fresh blueberries with my grandmother.

And every summer gives you opportunities to create new memories you and your loved ones can cherish for years to come.

Your body will thank you, too. Eating fresh fruit quenches your thirst and is an instantly cooling snack. Consuming summer fruits will also help you look and feel your best — and can help you avoid common seasonal health issues, such as dehydration and nutrient deficiencies from being outdoors and sweating.

With their vibrant colors and tastes and their abundant nutrition at their peaks, now is the time (in the Northern Hemisphere) to enjoy summer fruits. No matter how you eat them, if they’re ripe, they are sure to be delicious.

Tell us in the comments:

What are your favorite summer fruits?

Do you have any tips for finding fruits in your area?

What are your favorite memories of eating summer fruits?

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