#guava is a close second

[timmydraker]

Tim vapes.

To his friends, namely the ones at school and not so much in Young Justice, this ain’t anything surprising. It’s popular for his age group and given how he has various roles in life that cause anxiety and his poorly concealed PTSD from being Red Robin, it makes sense he’d turn to something for comfort.

That comfort just happens to be an addiction to the ‘cancer usb’s his brother Dick once went on a two hour rant about.

Jason once got grounded and forced to watch a PowerPoint video made by Dick and Bruce after he was caught with a cigarette while still Robin. Jason still kept up the bad habits, but he normally turned to a drink or smoke when things were really bad. It was both recreational and a treat that he only had a few times a year, or month in the case of alcohol.

Tim doesn’t take breaks unless he’s on patrol.

It started when he was thirteen and was so tired from starting work with Wayne Enterprise and Robin that he didn’t give his usual response to his friends offer of a hit.

The passion fruit guava flavour settled easily in his chest, most likely due to how he had a lot of self control with his body. He coughed a storm afterwards but quickly found himself coming back for a hit or two during school breaks.

It only took a month for him to buy his first one after some research. He bought the least damaging one for his body even if he knew that lessening such damage didn’t fully remove it.

He started with grape.

Then once that died, he bought sour apple.

Then fairyfloss.

Then strawberry mango.

Then birthday cake, which he genuinely didn’t think could be real but alas.

It took almost four years for anyone in his family to notice and by pure luck it was his actual father who would end up dying a few months later. Tim remembers how guilty he felt when he realised his father would no longer be yelling at him for his ‘fruity fucking stink’ and that such a thing gave him genuine relief. He shouldn’t want his dad to be dead, yet…

It was then Tim realised that maybe he should try slow down his usage, and challenged himself to go a whole hour before a hit, then two and then finally three before he decided that would be enough for a while.

It’s on a particularly bad patrol when he saw a kid get hurt and wasn’t in time to save her from some likely permanent damage that he forwent his rule of vaping in the suit and took several hits while against a wall in his Red Robin attire.

He was just stating to feel the calm fully settle in his bones as his last puff of sour rainbow exited his lunged when he heard a voice just a few feet away.

“How dare you disgrace the name of Robin with that filth!”

Tim jumps up immediately but no training would prepare him for how quickly Damian comes over and snatches the vape from his hand.

Damian is gone quicker than he can get himself together and he only just managed to shout and run after him with his growing panic.

Tim watches his youngest brother vanish from sight and knows he’s doomed.

When he gets back to the cave a few hours later after trying to hide away from his problems, he’s finished his second vape (star fruit grape) from pure stress.

He’s met with the entire family sans Jason giving him the most disappointed and concerned look he’s seen since he confessed he lost his spleen and didn’t tell anyone.

Damian won’t meet his eye but even then Tim can tell from years of studying his younger that even Damian feels a little guilty for outing him, but as Dick looks close to tears with how upset he is the others resolve clearly strengthens.

Tim doesn’t blame him, even if he’s mentally going over all the symptoms of nicotine withdrawal.

[voodoochildthings]

Beach days

Sam x reader x Dean

This doesn't really have any plot. It's just you. And the boys. On a hot summer day at the beach. Wouldn't even count it as smut 😏

Word count: ~ 1K

Tags: 18+, poly, our boys x reader. Just one sentence of actual smut, the rest is very fluffy.

A/N: For my lovely moot @ambiguous-avery's Summer Snapshot Challenge! I swear I had this thing ready within 12 hours of them posting the announcement. That's how great the prompt was <3

Special thanks to @jollyhunter, the amazing banner definitely jumpstarted the writing!

“Dude. Those are way too short.”

“No they're not.”

“Any shorter and you'll get arrested for public indecency.” Sam's face looks serious, but his voice betrays him.

“Shut up,” Dean drawls. He looks down on himself, pulls the waistband of his trunks away from him with his thumb.

“You're just jealous. And little Dean here just loves the sea breeze.” He pulls his finger out and lets the elastic snap back into place, a broad grin on his face.

You bite down on your lip to suppress a chuckle as you stand there in the doorway, watching your boys. The stupidly cold beers you're holding are starting to hurt your hand, but you just want to savor the moment. Watch them for a little bit longer, not fighting, just bantering.

Forcing them to take this trip has been one of your finer ideas. Your last case hadn't been extraordinarily gruesome, or hard to crack. You had just noticed how the boys had grown more and more tired with each new hunt, and how they had been retracting, starting to become monosyllabic, the creases between their brows becoming deeper.

Initially, they had been against a vacation. Talked about responsibilities. But you'd made puppy eyes at them and dangled your skimpy new two-piece in front of them, and Dean had the car packed before you even could say scuba diving.

The air around you is hot and humid, condensed water drips from the smooth glass bottles, finding its way onto your hand. Everything looks like someone cranked up the color saturation.

Sam runs his hand through his hair. It falls back in place exactly the way it was before. He picks up a guava from the counter, takes a big bite. The only thing distracting you from the way a droplet of juice runs over his chin, the way the muscles in his jaw dance as he bites down, is his brother.

Dean's still playing with his trunks, testing how far up or down he can wear them, making that stupid V appear and almost disappear over and over again. He's the one who notices you standing in the doorway when he catches you staring shamelessly in the mirror.

“You think those are too short?” His eyes are big, sparkling like a kid's on Christmas. And he leans back, flexes his abs and wiggles his junk at the you in the mirror.

You laugh as you finally push yourself off the doorframe and walk over to him.

“Not nearly short enough. It's giving Tom Selleck and I love it, you really should think about growing a mustache.”

You stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss to the tan, freckled skin on his shoulder blade, then, obviously purely on accident, touch the icy cold bottle to his naked back. Dean flinches, has one hand on the bottle and the other around your waist faster than you can react.

He glares at you with those deep green eyes, playful mischief written all over his face.

“You need to be more careful, missy, or you're gonna get ducked later!”

You shriek when Dean sandwiches your face between his lips on one cheek and the cold bottle on the other, and you try your best wiggling out of his grasp without spilling Sam's beer.

You flee into the younger Winchester's open arms, let him lift you up to sit on his hips where he holds you close to his body. You blindly reach for the counter and barely manage to set the second bottle down without letting it fall to the floor, because Sam, apparently, is not in the mood for beer. Instead, his lips wander all over your face, peppering kisses onto every inch of skin they can reach. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be swept away by the sensation.

You hold on to him tight, tangle your fingers into his hair as your mouth seeks out his. He tastes sweet, just like the fruit you watched him eat, and salty from the sweat the ocean breeze has dried on his skin. You feel him carrying you over to the couch where he gently puts you down, lips not parting from yours. And you hear Dean protesting, putting his bottle aside as he makes his way over to the two of you.

“No way, get outta here, it's my turn,” he growls at his brother. Your eyes flutter open as you feel Dean's hand between your and Sam's faces, almost violently pushing his brother away. You have to laugh at the scene, at Sam's incredulous look as Dean drops to his knees between your legs. He's already licking his lips as he ruffles up the thin fabric of your pareo, pulls down your bikini bottoms.

“Dude, seriously?” Sam looks between you and his brother, still deciding if he should fight this battle, when Dean quips again.

“On second thought, you can continue upstairs. I'm going to be busy down here for a while,” and then he goes straight for the honey pot.

You have a hard time keeping your eyes open as he runs his tongue over your heat, but Sam's excited expression makes the effort worth it. He chuckles, sits down next to you, brushes a rogue strand of hair out of your face.

You want to say something, about how they shouldn't fight, about how there's enough of you to go around, about how they're best when they work together. But the words die in your throat as Sam pulls you in again, lips brushing over yours. So you close your eyes. Sigh blissfully. And let your men get to work.

[pinkslipxox]

Hola nena 🩷

Por favor, can I request growing up with Miko and being each others first kiss? Gracias mami!

hola, mi amor! Eeeek yes of course! Disfruta 💕

——————————————————————————

Stars shimmer like a scattered diamonds across the Puerto Rican sky and the moon cast a silver glow over the plaza, where you and Miko are enjoying your late night escapade. You and Miko have found a perfect spot near a colorful fountain, its waters dancing with the glow of lights that lined the square. The atmosphere is electric, but the buzzing nightlife doesn’t quite drown out the beating of your heart for the girl that sits next to you.

Miko has always been the badass of your duo with her confident aura and defiant spirit. Ever since you moved to Puerto Rico, she has been by your side through thick and thin. Her toned arms are decorated with tattoos that tells stories of her resilience and strength, and her dark hair cascades over her shoulder like a waterfall of night. She shoots you a grin, one that radiates mischief and warmth all at once.

“Tienes hambre, pequeña?” Miko asks, her voice warm and playful, and you can’t help but smile.

“You know me— I’m always hungry!” you giggle and Miko playfully rolls her eyes.

“How about we get some donuts?” she suggests, gesturing to the nearby stall selling guava donuts. The light twinkles in her eyes, and you can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “We have to get some!”

Your stomach growls in anticipation as Miko orders donuts for the both of you, her charm effortlessly winning over the vendor. Miko then leads you back to the bench you both were sitting on, box of donuts in hand, and you can’t help be feel a sense of happiness being in this moment with your best friend.

“Provecho, mami,” she says, breaking one of the donuts in half and handing you a piece. Your fingers brush against hers, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

As you both take a bite, the sweet, tangy flavor of guava fills your mouth, and you can’t help but squeal in delight. “This is amazing!” you exclaim, and Miko grins, clearly pleased.

“Las mejores donuts, right?” she teases, smirking as you nod enthusiastically, the sugary treat only enhancing your happiness. You take a bite, and she leans in closer, stealing a piece from your half.

“Hey!” you laugh, feigning annoyance.

“Sharing is caring, pequeña,” she shoots back, her playful tone making your heart skip a beat. You’ve always adored her confidence and the way she seems to radiate energy, and tonight, you feel especially close.

As the night deepens and the stars sprinkle the sky, you lean back against the bench, savoring the moment. Miko shifts closer, her arm draping around your shoulders, pulling you in. “I love nights like this,” she whispers softly, the confidence in her voice replaced by a sincerity that makes your heart race.

“Me too,” you reply, glancing up at her. Your eyes meet, and suddenly the atmosphere feels charged.

Miko seems to hesitate for just a moment before she speaks again, her voice low and vulnerable. “Y/N, can I… can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” you encourage, your pulse quickening.

“I’ve been feeling different about you, and I don’t know how to say it, pero… I really like you, like, more than a friend should,” she confesses, looking down for a second before meeting your gaze again, her dark eyes searching yours.

Your heart skips a beat. “Miko, I feel the same way,” you say, the words spilling out before you can second-guess yourself. “You’re not just my best friend; you mean so much more to me.”

Miko’s face lights up with a mixture of disbelief and joy, and without thinking, you both inch closer together. There’s an electric anticipation in the air as your breaths mingle, and then, like the most natural thing in the world, you lean in.

Your lips meet for the first time, soft and tentative, the moment filled with sweetness and wonder. It’s a gentle collision, full of the unspoken feelings you’ve been hiding. Miko cradles your face in her strong hands, treating you with a tenderness that contrasts beautifully with her tough exterior. When the kiss breaks, both of you are breathless, staring at each other in awe.

“Wow, that was… wow,” Miko breathes, her playful smirk returning.

“Yeah, but it was perfect,” you whisper, a giggle escaping your lips despite the seriousness of the moment. You can see the glimmer of affection in her eyes, a mixture of mischief and sweetness that makes your heart flutter.

“Te quiero, pequeña,” she murmurs softly, leaning in to steal another tender kiss, this one deeper, more confident. You melt against her, feeling safe in her embrace, as if nothing could ever harm you with Miko by your side.

“Yo también te quiero, Miko,” you whisper back, savoring the closeness. You’re wrapped in her muscular arms, the world around you fading away as you both settle into this new, beautiful reality together.

The night continues to unfold with possibilities, and in the comfort of the plaza, under the twinkling stars, you know this is just the beginning for you and Miko. Each moment exchanged is a promise, deepening the bond you’ve long cherished, and you can’t wait to see where this adventure takes you both.

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (5)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Overthinker reader having a conversation with Mr. "Just Trust Me" Jade Leech. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe

“Would you like some tea?”

Jade offers you a cup of something that smells like lavender. You shake your head.

“I’m okay.” You turn your attention back to your screen. He sets the cup and saucer next to you anyway. “Who knows, maybe you’ve put a suspicious substance in it.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I can do something out of the kindness of my heart?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “You? Absolutely not. Give an inch and you take a mile.”

There’s a beat where he doesn’t reply. You look up at him, wondering if you’ve said something strange, but his back is turned as he walks to his seat. When he turns back around to settle in his chair, his expression stills like a frozen pond. Perfectly crafted, carefully unreadable.

A few hours have passed since his phone call. You’ve decided to work in Jade’s office today, thinking that you might get a clue or a burst of inspiration if one of the subjects of your thoughts is in close proximity. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his quiet hums and constant catering to your needs indicates that he’s rather pleased. Aside from the cup of tea releasing a wispy veil of steam, there’s also a plate of cookies and a bowl of cherries on his desk beside you.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

You close your laptop and sigh. There are too many to count, all swirling in your head without rest.

“Still thinking about what you told me this morning.” You don’t want to address the bigger issue—that (Y/N) apparently forgot who you are—so you start small. “I didn’t expect you to actually fall asleep.”

“Neither did I.” Jade frowns in thought. “I imagine it is a result of too few hours of sleep throughout the week.”

“Even so, you said it yourself. You can’t sleep around strangers.” You drum your fingers on the desk. “Maybe you actually do feel at ease around her.”

“That is not the case.” His voice carries certainty that surprises you. When you glance at him, you notice that his mouth is set in a firm line. “I was quite unsettled when I woke up.”

“Huh.” You can imagine it. His shock at his lapse in vigilance. But even so, no matter how tired he is, he has never made this sort of blunder before. “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

A shadow passes over his face. He stands next to your chair and leans over you. His eyes stare straight into yours—piercing mismatched eyes with an almost magnetic pull.

“I will ask you the same question as last night. Do you really believe that manuscript is a reflection of things that will certainly come to pass?”

Your heart jumps. Is he using Shock the Heart? But a few seconds pass, and no words leave your lips. This is not his Signature Spell. This is Jade Leech asking you a sincere, serious question. Besides, you have no reason to lie.

“Like I said, I don’t know—”

“Then don’t talk and act as though it is.” Is that frustration in his voice? He maintains eye contact with you, and you feel as though you can’t look away. “I, for one, think a predetermined future is horribly boring. My actions dictated for me, every event predictable . . . . I would sooner abandon it all and throw caution to the wind. The only reason why I am following the manuscript is because it outlines a way to restore my parents’ health.”

His sentence ends on half a breath, as though he originally intended to say more. He doesn’t. You wait, but nothing comes out.

“And?”

He kneels beside your chair, no longer towering over you or crowding your space. When he speaks again, he is quiet. But in the silence of his office, you hear it clear as day.

“And because that is what you want.”

Many history textbooks praise the Sea Witch for her spells and potions. One of the most famous ones took away a mermaid’s voice. You wonder if this is what that mermaid felt like. A storm of thoughts, but none able to be processed by your vocal chords. Parted lips that leak no sounds. You stare, nonplussed.

Eventually, you manage to let out a breathy, barely-heard whisper.

“What?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “That is the truth. If that is what you wish for, then I will do my best to live up to your expectations. I know your good friend (Y/N)’s life is difficult. I know you think that by following this manuscript, everyone will be happy, because that is what it says will happen.”

You continue staring. The words seem to pass through you. It’s as though you are sitting in a dream, your surroundings wavering and surreal. What is he saying?

“The truth is that I could simply care less about (Y/N). She is at most an acquaintance. The reason why I give her special treatment is because I know she is precious to you.” He keeps rambling. You get the sense that he has been keeping quiet about this for a while. “As for the matter concerning my parents. If we follow the story, there is still no guarantee that they will be cured. Even you said you do not know if the manuscript’s plot will certainly come to pass. If Vil Schoenheit refuses to help my family, we will think of another way. He is not the only alchemist or curse expert in the world.

“I will follow what you want. But do not ask me to fall in love with (Y/N). That is the one thing I cannot do.”

“Why?” Your brain feels like porridge. Nothing seems to be getting through it. You cannot reason out a single thing. Isn’t (Y/N) created to be loved? Aren’t they written to fit like a glove on each other’s fingers? You’ve read the story. There doesn’t seem to be a particular reason why the Jade in the story obsesses over her aside from spending time together. It doesn’t actually matter. It’s the author’s will that their love is written in the stars—and the pages of that damn manuscript. It’s the point of the entire plot. “Is there something you don’t like about her?”

“Do I need a reason for failing to fall in love?”

Your mind blanks. Does he need a reason? He has a similar line in the manuscript. Do I need a reason for falling in love? If you think about it, isn’t it the same? No matter how you try and reason out the answer, love is not a puzzle with a logical answer. There is no formula, no recipe, no surefire step-by-step manual that you can follow to ensure success. Sometimes a spark causes a flame, and sometimes it sizzles out and dies. There is nobody to blame for either outcome.

You can’t wrap your mind around it. Why. Why. Why. Your brain, constantly overflowing with thoughts, cannot leave this topic to rest. A puzzle without an answer leaves you feeling antsy. Not knowing everything is a sin to your conscience.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“That is how love tends to be.”

An unsatisfactory answer. You dig your nails into your palm.

“Then answer me this. Why do you follow what I want? Is it because I’m interesting? No, that’s not right. You just said following a pre-written script is boring, and that’s exactly what I told you to do. I don’t understand.”

“The script is boring. You are anything but.”

“Me? What have I done?”

He smiles, then, one wholly different from his polite masks or his teasing grins or even his unhinged laughter. It’s an expression you associate with the times he talks about his interests. The expression that blankets and scatters across his countenance like orange rays of the setting sun over ocean waves. A quiet and calm beauty. A fondness that he rarely allows to be seen.

“Did you know that when you have much on your mind, you look up to the sky? That is why you prefer rooms with windows. The attic in my home that you love so dearly is one such room, and you spend all your time there nestled on the window seat. On that topic, you prefer small spaces because it helps you feel secure while you think. This is because you tend to zone out, and it is easier to defend yourself when no threats can appear behind you.”

“Uh, this is more like a behavioural report than a reason.”

“I do adore observing your behaviour. Particularly when you are lost in thought. I find myself wondering what you’re thinking about. If you’ll share them with me. But oftentimes, you do not trust me enough to do so.”

You swallow hard. “It’s hard to.”

“Why is that? I’ve known you for fifteen years. Floyd has known you for just as long, Azul a little less. (Y/N) has only known you for one year. So why can’t you trust me?”

You fiddle with your fingers, no longer capable of meeting his gaze. This kind of outburst is not something you expected from Jade. How long has he been thinking this way?

“I can’t tell what’s going on in your head. That’s why. Everything you say or do just gives me more to think about. If you’re being genuine or not, if you’ll suddenly decide to turn on me, things like that.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes. His smile shifts from fond to rueful and raw desperation permeates his shaky voice. It sounds brittle, as though a well-aimed push would shatter it into infinitesimal pieces.

“Is it so inconceivable that I could do things for you without ulterior motives?”

You look away. “Only until it no longer serves your interests or amuses you. Even if I can’t trust you fully, I’m sure there’s at least some level of it between us. I mean, we see each other regularly. I even let you drive me home.”

“Yes, but I am afraid I am a greedy man. Anyone else turning their back on me would be tolerable, but you—if it’s you . . . . At least promise me this. Even if I turn on the entire world,” he declares quietly, “promise you will trust that I will not betray you.”

You open your mouth as though to reply. Nothing comes out. You try again, your fingers gripping your knees tightly.

“I think we’re too similar. We’re both too cautious. We both think too much. Because of that, I can’t let my guard down around you.”

“Yet that is exactly what fascinates me.” He places a hand over yours. “Trying to decipher your thoughts, wondering about the motivations behind your actions, these are all things I find myself enthralled by. Your brutality and decisiveness towards that which would benefit you, but your willingness to do anything for the people dear to you. Your cautious nature as you execute your bold plans. Every time I think I have you pinned down, I only unearth another layer. The mystery intrigues me. On the other hand, I cannot help but wish you would trust and open up to me a little more.”

“That’s contradictory.”

“I cannot help it.” He smiles wryly. “I am contradictory by nature, as are you.”

You study his hand that engulfs yours. Cool to the touch. Ungloved, too. You muster your resolve.

“Then promise you won’t lie to me.” You finally lift your gaze until it returns to his eyes. Clear eyes that have been by your side for years. The eyes of a liar and schemer. Ironic for the one who wields a Signature Spell that forces out the truth. But these are the eyes of Jade Leech, and you won’t try to make him be someone he isn’t. “Lie to everyone else, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me. You can try to trick me or give me half-truths. I’ll figure them out on my own. If I still get fooled, that’s on me. Just don’t outright lie.”

The pounding of your heart fills your ears. Then, it is replaced by the sound of his quiet laughter.

“I expected nothing less from you.” He brings your hand up to touch his cheek. It only lasts a moment before he lets go and stands back up, returning to his seat. “I give you my word. I will never lie to you again.”

You look at the teacup on the desk, the lavender tea inside now cooled. The untouched cookies and cherries. A soft clink rings out as you take the teacup and bring it to your lips. Sweet and fragrant. Even cold, the tea Jade brews is impeccable.

[conalnghing]

New updates on the conlang!!

In thisnpost i'm going to talk about the name of the language and fauna and flora vocabulary so you have a good idea of what the culture surrounding this language is, and also how im evolving a syllable block writing system and adding determanitives, but here are some boring clarifications of the previous post:

Phonology

A minor change about the sound /ʎ/, as i didnt know it was a different sound from the voiceless palatal lateral fricative (the ipa glyph of which doesnt render on my device💔💔💔). So if you see a /ʎ/ anywhere in posts about this conlang, just remember that it represents the voiceless palatal lateral fricative instead of /ʎ/ :)

Second thing is about the romanization, which i totally forgot to tell you guys about. Heres a list, ipa will be on the left and the romanized form will be on the right:(it has both digraphs and diacritics, so i apologize if its a bit messy and wierd)

Vowels

a - a

ɛ - e

i - i

y - î

ɯ -û

u - u

ə - ê

Consonants

t - t

d - d

k - k

g - g

q - q

ɸ - h

f - f

v - v

ɬ - lh

ʒ - zh

χ - hh

h - ħ

l - l

ʎ - ç

t͡s - ts

t͡ʃ - c

d͡z - dz

end of clarifications!!!

Name of the language

(Image is in the alphabetic syllabary: more on it later)

So far you may have noticed that i havent mentioned the name of this language so far, as i didnt have a name for it yet. But now, i finally have one!! It is:

Hhohulçna (IPA:χɔɸulʎna)

Gloss: air-breathe-AUG (literally "the great language/the powerful language")

I originally went with "Hhohuldzêlhê" (our language) but i felt like it would be a bit too common for a language name and too long for my tastes (even though most of the words in this language are long).

Flora and fauna vocabulary

For starters, Hhohuldzêlhê is from a culture heavily inspired by the Mayans, so of course i had to pick a new-world pre-columbian ecosystem. Some fauna words include:

cê (IPA: t͡ʃə) n.

snake (and also a homophone of "give")

dzlla (IPA: d͡zlːa) n.

fish, swimmer

tsêçtsîlla (IPA: t͡səʎt͡sylːa) n.

Gloss: hair-sharp.pointy (from "tsêç", "hair", and "tsîlla", "sharp, like a needle")

hagê (IPA: ɸagə) n.

squirrel

du (IPA: du) n.

jaguar, riddle, puzzle

qahhu (IPA: qaχu) n.

tapir (from the sound of a tapir)

Some flora words include:

hêlla (IPA: ɸəlːa) n.

vanilla, seed pod

kû (IPA: kɯ) n.

guava, rind

te (IPA: tɛ) n.

sweet potato

dê (IPA: də) n.

red chili, chili

tolla (IPA: tɔlːa) n.

green chili

tovê (IPA: tɔvə) n.

corn

These words are mainly concerned with food sources (turkey, armadillo, peccary, tapir, all the edible plants) and jaguar, which evolved to mean something that is considered dangerous or unpredictable, and later confusing. It's because of this that "jaguar" also means "puzzle, riddle", and later for problems (as in something to be answered) and rarely, an affix for words to make them dangerous or confusing (sort of like the augumentative affix but only for these two uses)

A lot of the animal words are derived from their sounds (or as close as i could match their sounds with the pheonemes i had and fitting the CV syllable structure), and the plant names are mostly random.

Script evolution

The language is now currently seperated into 3 stages: Proto Hhohulçna, Old Hhohulçna (which i have been using so far) and Classical Hhohulçna (the current language in my world, but i havent evolved most of the vocabulary to this point yet). Starting from here, i'll refer to them as PH, OH and CH respectively. I'll talk more about each of them in a later post, but right now ill focus on OH spelling rules.

In OH, if a consonant does not have a vowel after it, it takes on the dummy vowel "ê" in writing. Long consonants are written by either duplicating a character or adding the lenghthening mark (𠃍) below the character itself.

In between OH and CH, people started to add syllables belonging to dummy vowels above the block if the consonant was an onset, and after if it was a coda. In the above image is written "qê.lî-f.llo-cc", with "-f" and "-cc" written as stretched characters to the right of the main character.

Again, to save space, people lopped off the tops and bottoms of the consonant characters, creating an alphabetic syllabary.

An optional reading aid is for long consonants to add on an extra consonant to the syllable block before it, if it does not already have a coda:

As in "dzênnelho" (earn pay or a reward, gain food), it can be written as either "dzê.nne.lho" or as "dzên.nne.lho".

In the time of CH, word dividing has still remained basically the same out of tradition, even as paper became more easily mass-produced. Words with spaces are commonly seen on monuments for greater visiblity, or on official documents and work documents due to it's past connotation with royalty and formality. Words with dividing marks in the character itself remain the writing method of choice, due to higher information per amount of area and used on casual writings.

Both of these writing methods may appear on inscriptions, depending on aesthetics and the amount of space. For example, a lintel above a small doorway may use the spaceless "informal" text, while an inscription carved onto the walls may use the spaced "formal" text.

Besides different ways to seperate words from one another, this script is also unique in the fact that it uses determanitives. These determinatives reuse the original meanings of the syllable blocks, so the writer may add marks (commonly four strokes on the top, bottom or side of the determinative, indicating the bottom of the syllable "dzê", the first syllable of the word "dzlhê", meaning "to be like") to indicate that its not supposed to be read, or the reader may need to assume if the word has a determinative attached to it.

The determinatives appeared to solve one very annoying problem: as the language evolved into OH, some words became identical or almost identical, requiring determinatives to tell them apart.

The appearance of determinatives also changed the writing system a lot. Instead of writing the full word out (for example, hhoqûtsêqol, meaning bridge or solution. Written out as "hho.qû.tsê.qo.lê" in OH), the writer could write the start and end of a word, plus any other identifying syllable and a related determinative.

So instead of writing out all 5 complicated syllable blocks of "hhoqûtsêqol", one could instead write "hho.qo.lê" and add the determinative for "water" or for "stream".

Very long and complicated post today!! Hope it wasn't too confusing. I'll talk about some basic name derivation next time!!!

[gentlebilady]

I Heard That There's a Special Place (Harringrove Pink Pony fic part 4)

Steve smiled tightly at the manager of the Dairy Queen, nodding his head, before ducking out the front door. Rejection number four. Rejection number four today. He’d lost track of the amount of No’s he’d received, not to mention that number of applications he’d submitted and hadn’t heard back on. He didn’t understand. He had work experience, he had a high school degree, he was a personable and friendly guy! He sighed, dejected, tired, hungry. It was Wednesday – the next day would make it a week he’d been in California. He had only paid at the motel for a week. He decided to take a break for the day – it was 3:00 pm. He’d head back to the motel, maybe talk to Sherri for a bit if she was free, pay for another week, and rethink his strategy.

He parked in his parking spot on the back of the building, grabbed the bag of day old pastries he’d picked up from his new favorite bakery (he’d applied there Monday, and during his impromptu interview the manager had offered him a Danish – Steve was a new life-long devotee), and headed to the lobby. It was empty, strains of the Beach Boys coming from a hidden radio.

“Sherri?”

“Just a sec!”

A moment later she wandered out from the back.

“Hello, Steven! How was it?” He grimaced. “Well, damn.”

He held up the bag of mixed pastries.

“Coffee?”

“Just started a pot. Only be a few minutes.”

Steve nodded, placed the bag on the counter.

“Be right back.”

He headed to his room, quickly changing out of his Job Search Suit and into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved polo, before heading back up front. Sherri was already sitting in one of the chairs, two mugs on the table, and the pastries arranged on a plate.

He sat down, taking his mug with a sigh and a smile, grabbing the apple strudel from the plate.

“Am I too old?” Sherri laughed outright. “I’m serious!”

She looked at him, really seemed to analyze him, a smile in her eyes.

“Well, hon, are you applying for jobs too young for you?”

Steve wasn’t sure he understood the question; apparently, Sherri could tell.

“You’re not too old, Steven. But a lot of these places are specifically looking for college students.”

“What?! Why? Don’t they want someone with experience?”

“I don’t know, hon.” Her lips screwed up ruefully. That took the wind out of his indignation. He blew air through his lips.

“So, how do I know what jobs will hire me?”

“If I figure that out, I’ll let you know.” She took a bite of a guava pastry. “Maybe just start by looking at jobs you might not normally consider.”

Steve didn’t know what that would be, but he nodded his head, lost in thought. The Mama’s and the Papa’s came on, and Sherri hummed along, her eyes closed, mug in her hand.

While I’m far away from you, my baby

Whisper a little, prayer for me, my baby

Steve stood up to grab the pile of papers from the counter – he hadn’t checked today’s yet, having gotten straight on the road after getting up this morning, a list of businesses from the day before he was still working on. He brought them back to the chair, drinking his coffee as he checked the Wanted Ads. He looked for something different, jobs he wouldn’t give a second glance. Most of them required certifications or degrees he didn’t have. Many of them he’d already applied to. He started again, going back to the beginning of the page, and tried to look at each listing with a fresh eye.

Comics/Records/Books.

Steve had initially skipped over it for a few reasons: he wasn’t really a reader, he didn’t have a record player, and his dad had always said reading comics “crafted an inferior mind”. Well, his dad wasn’t here now, and Steve was getting worried he was unhirable. So he jotted down the name and address. He found a few other possibilities – a veterinary clinic looking for a receptionist and a bakery asking for an opener. He looked through everything a third time, just to be sure he wasn’t missing any potentials, but nothing else seemed remotely possible. He set the paper down, leaning back in the chair and taking a deep drink of his coffee – it was losing heat and he did not want to be drinking hot coffee gone cold.

“What’d you find?” Sherri peered at him, a second pastry in her hand, coffee mug empty on the table.

“Book store, veterinary clinic, bakery.”

“You sound disappointed.”

Steve sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair, pulling on it slightly – he was getting a headache.

“That’s only three.”

“Well, that’s three more than you had 20 minutes ago. That’ll keep you busy for a few hours tomorrow, and by then another paper will have come out with new ads.” She nudged the plate toward him, one pastry left on it. Steve smiled and shook his head.

“I think I need some real food.”

“Well, we’re having spaghetti tonight, would you like to join?”

Steve blanked – he hadn’t expected that. Sherri had been kind to him this past week (exceedingly kind), but he’d started thinking of her as a land lady, and, yes, he had no experience with that sort of relationship, but he had assumed there would be a certain amount of distance (coffee and pastry aside). His brain caught on spaghetti. Damn, that sounded good. He’d been eating mostly fast food, supplementing with whatever could fit in the tiny fridge in his motel room.

“Thank you. I would like that.”

Sherri smiled and said she’d come get him at the end of her shift. She produced the bag that the pastries has been in and slid the remaining bear claw back into it, handing that to Steve. Then she headed to the back, plate and mugs in hand.

Steve sat a few moments after she’d disappeared, feeling a little at a loss. He had about an hour to kill and wasn’t sure what he should be doing. Pastry in hand, he headed to his room, wondering if he needed to bring anything to dinner tonight. Beer? Wine? He wasn’t sure if Sherri drank. He got into his room, mind on dinner, and tripped over a pair of jeans. Were those dirty? He stared at them, unable to remember when he’d worn them. He looked around, startled by how messy the room was. It made the room feel small and close (well, smaller than it already was). He had never been a neat freak but he appreciated a tidy living space. He picked up the clothes strewn around the room, thinking he’d need to wash them soon. Then he had a moment of panic, wondering how he was supposed to wash them. Where would he find a washer and dryer? He’d have to ask Sherri. He looked around for something to put the pile of dirty clothes in and came up with nothing, so he dropped them in the chair by the window. Then he went to the counter and sink outside the bathroom and straightened up the few items there – hair products, mostly, some underwear and socks he’d missed on the floor.

Steve surveyed the room, hands on hips, feeling a little pleasure well up in him, then glanced at the clock. All that cleaning had taken ten whole minutes. His smile melted off his face.

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself.

He decided to take a shower. He took his time, leisurely washing his hair, letting the conditioner sit a little longer than usual, trying to relax and unwind; then he panicked that maybe he’d taken too long, and that Sherri was knocking on the door and he couldn’t hear her and she was gonna leave without him.

Steve stuck his head out of the shower, trying to listen for distant knocks; he even opened the bathroom door (the room was very small), focusing closely, but he didn’t hear anything. That didn’t mean she hadn’t already left. He hurriedly rinsed his hair, washed his face and body quickly (and less than thoroughly), and tripped out of the tub, pulling the curtain off a few rungs. He ran out of the bathroom wrapping a towel around his waist, eyes shooting to the clock-radio on the bed side table. 4:30. He hadn’t even been in the shower for ten minutes, Sherri wouldn’t been showing up for another half an hour.

“Harrington, seriously, get a god damn grip, man.” Steve shook his head out, then went to the drawers to find some clean clothes. Oh. Damn. He did need to do some laundry. He put on his last pair of clean boxers (guess he’d be skipping the shower in the morning), the jeans he’d been wearing earlier, and a (different) long-sleeved polo. He reapplied antiperspirant and spritzed some cologne before styling his hair.

A knock came at the door. The clock said 5:05. Steve’s brow scrunched.

“What?!” It did not take him over half an hour to get ready. Did it? The knock came again.

“Coming!” He grabbed his wallet and keys and opened the door, Sherri waiting on the other side with a tote bag, a colorful, nubby looking cardigan on he hadn’t noticed earlier. He smiled at her.

“Come on then, Steven. I’m starving.”

He checked that he had the room key before closing the door behind him and following her out into the evening.

[friendcrumbs]

cicadas snippet under the cut + info (?)

“Looks like my search was fruitful,” Herbert yells, unfolding his arms across the hood of the truck. “Come look.”

“In a moment,” Dan calls back, refusing to give into the irritation. “I’m trying to pay.”

“Just leave the money on the counter,” Herbert oh-so helpfully suggests. “Come look, Dan, come on.”

Dan sighs, and resigns himself to the fact that yeah, he is going to come look whenever Herbert calls. 

On the grimy, crusty hood, Herbert has laid out a dozen of shiny fruit. Even with their bumpy green skin whole, a sickly sweet smell permeates the air. Something new, possibly wild, Dan thinks, as he idly takes one in hand. The skin is a little waxy, with some give, and even more fragrant up close. His mouth waters for a second, but then something in his brain connects. Guavas. 

The family of one of the combatants brought a case of different fruit from the market for the doctors while they treated their dying son. They dragged the case from their hometown, a hundred miles away, and so it sat in the humid, dim tent as Dan and Herbert battled the man’s spreading gangrene. A grueling amputation followed by a site infection that finally jumped into the bloodstream and wouldn’t be beaten down by broad-spectrum antibiotics. By the time they declared the patient dead, Dan was seeing double and even Herbert was silent about the reagent. Dan remembers the family’s faces. Both parents, and a younger brother, staring at them with ravenous hope. He doesn’t remember stumbling through the explanation in his kneecapped Spanish, but he does remember throwing up in the bushes twenty feet from the tent as soon as they left. He doesn’t know what happened to the fruit in the end, though. Maybe Herbert fed it to the iguanas, maybe the next shift of medics tore into it. 

He feels faintly sick now, but he can’t put the fruit down, turning its waxy skin in his palm like a prayer bead. He looks at Herbert, wonders if he remembers. Maybe, maybe not. Things just slid off Herbert like water off a duck’s back, after all, and he seems perfectly happy to lean one hip against the hood of the car, not minding the dust and dirt for once, already paring the skin with his army-supplied pocket knife. 

The flesh is a faint pink and so succulent to be slippery. Herbert nicks his finger, swears under his breath, licks the bead of blood along with the juice dripping down his wrist. And then it’s back to the fruit, plunging the knife in twice, turning the wrist so that the blade is flat just so to leverage out a nice, fat slice. He holds it out on the blade, chin still tucked in concentration. 

Dan puts down the one he’s holding and picks up the slice. Herbert immediately gets back to carving, working in quick jerks, like he doesn't want to acknowledge passing it. The slice is wet and sticky, slightly translucent at the thinnest part. It reminds Dan of the thin-sliced samples Herbert would make for microscope slides back in Arkham. He pops it into his mouth before his mind can spin any further connections. 

It’s nice. Sweet, but not cloying, with a slight chew to it. It feels good to eat something, even if he’s still not hungry. He swallows just in time to pick up the next bit. 

⇹

putting a nice scene in the next dose of horrors. like using peanut butter to hide dog medicine. truth be told i have no idea when the next update will be because im back in class. but it is cooking! the link to cicadas.

[crisalidaseason]

obsessed with your kenuri universe and would love to see some kenny/kuchel fluffy sibling time (why'd have to kill heeeer jk)

You ask and I shall deliver. This took me longer than I wanted (I should have posted it in December but I was very depressed). Also, sorry for having to K my sweet Kuchel, but she is very much alive in this!

Family chaos on Christmas - the prequel

Summary: Kenny is miserably working on the holiday season, Kuchel is very pregnant and Uri is worming his way into Kenny's heart.

Content warning: within my family chaos universe, modern au, a prequel of sorts, some angst, mentions of pregnancy and labor, Kenny is a good brother, Kenny is tired and anxious, mentions of anxiety, slight descriptions of anxiety attacks, fluff, some domestic vibes, sibling bond, pining (Kenny/Uri)

__________________________________________________________

Kenny waited five seconds after she left to immediately switch the door sign from open to closed.

“Happy holidays, mister Ackerman” the old woman waved as she finally left the shop.

“Happy holidays, ma’am” 

“Fucking finally”

The young man wanted nothing more than to end that shift. He thought it should be a crime to work on December 24th.

“Who fucking needs repair tools on Christmas?? You know, if people were less stupid and more organized all shops could close on holidays”

He had complained while getting ready for work that morning. Kuchel - the little shit that she was - just laughed at his annoyance.

“At least the owner let you close earlier, Ken. It could have been worse”

He huffed while recalling the short conversation. It was easy for Kuchel to not relate to his misery, she never worked on holidays even before she went on maternity leave. For him, working six instead of eight hours on Christmas made no difference in the end, since traffic would probably take the rest of his sanity away. 

“Fuck off” he screamed loudly as he hit yet another traffic jam. It took 30 extra minutes for him to finally arrive at the apartment complex. He groaned while parking, Kuchel’s car was almost giving up - that old thing would die on them any day, Kenny was dreading it. He managed to park and almost cried in relief. Finally home!

Well. He may have rid himself of work, but home was another rollercoaster to get through. 

“Kenny!” the woman greeted him from the living room/kitchen couch “took you long enough”

The older ackerman was sitting comfortably on the couch, reading a book, a heavy blanket covering her round middle section and many pillows stacked around her. 

“Have you eaten?” the man asked “I thought about take out, but traffic was impossible to go through”

“I snacked a little, it’s fine” she assured him, but her face said otherwise. 

She finally reached the ninth month - or, according to her, the 39th week - of her pregnancy. Kuchel was huge and feeling as uncomfortable as her appearance suggested. The last few weeks were filled with low mobility and badly assembled snacks. 

“What about some chicken salad?” he suggested “I pre-made some seasoned shredded chicken”

The woman’s eyes beamed at him.

“Kenny, you’re a lovely lovely brother, you know that?”

He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever” 

Despite his initial stress and tiredness, there was a calming property in cooking a tasty chicken salad. He was far from a good student in school, but the ‘chemistry’ and ‘physics’ of food always fascinated him, he wished life could subside enough for him to spend more time experimenting with cooking. The satisfaction of eating a good meal was a recent comfort he was thankful for everyday. 

“Here” he handed his sister the plate with plenty of the chicken salad “beverage?”

She motioned the half full bottle of guava juice on the kitchen table, silently denying his question. The Ackerman man sat down on the ground, with his own plate on his lap, leaving a groan of relief at the first bite. He turned the television on, looking for something interesting to watch but only finding Christmas movies or news. 

“Go back!” Kuchel’s voice almost startled him.

“What? The stupid christmas movie?”

She nodded fervently while still chewing. Kenny shook his head and went back to the channel playing a movie - what seemed to be one of those holiday rom coms.

“I thought you hated romcoms,” Kenny commented.

“I do”

Kenny had learned early on that pregnancy made Kuchel even weirder. From the moment she found out the unexpected demon spawn in her uterus, she had weird cravings (not only for food, there were a few weeks she could only sleep by watching animal documentaries). He learned to not question after a while, it kept things easy to handle. 

“Do you think family Christmas dinners are always like that?” she pointed her fork at the tv “It seems so inaccurate”

Kenny shrugged. Still focused on his plate. 

“Well, it doesn’t snow here in december so safe to say it might not be so accurate” his sister concluded on her own. 

They kept eating in silence and the movie proved to be just as stupid as it promised, though he heard sniffling behind him. Now, if there is something Kenny learned ever since he and his sister finally left the foster system to live together was that you don’t question her feelings - especially pregnant. He almost considered patting her on the shoulders in comfort but remembered she still had a good aim and her flip flops were right there, ready to be thrown. 

“What a stupid movie” she mumbled.

He stood up, taking Kuchel’s plate and finally building courage to do the dishes despite his exhaustion. He heard his sister turn off the television and certain sounds indicated she was leaving her cocoon of blankets and pillows, grunting during the entire process. 

“You okay there?” he asked while hanging the dishes to dry.

It was safe to say Kenny panicked a bit too often with Kuchel’s every display of discomfort - the nervousness of her due date always on the back of his mind. The young man was not feeling prepared at all for the big day even with his sister’s advice and thorough explanations of the process - although Kuchel herself was very new to this and also terrified despite not admitting.

“Yes Kenny, the boy isn’t coming out until next week. Relax…Uh!” she let out a shriek. 

He hated her so much. Kenny ran to the living room, trying to see any signs of wetness indicating that the antichrist wanted out, instead he found his sister peering down at his phone - which was silently vibrating with a call. 

“It’s your loverboy” she smiled at him like the little shit that she was “pick it up or I will”

“He isn’t-” he sighed, giving up this fruitless conversation they always had and picking up the phone. 

“Hello” Kenny answered.

“Good evening, Kenny, is it bad timing?”

“No, not at all!” He dried his hands on his beat up jeans, Kuchel waving crazily in front of him.

“Great! I just wanted to call because I thought a message felt a bit too distant. I know you said you don’t celebrate Christmas, but I just wanted to wish you and Kuchel a special good night’s rest.”

The noises on the background indicated Uri, his neighbor, was probably at a family gathering at his family home, Kenny could hear loud voices and holiday music playing softly. 

“Thank you Uri, we appreciate it” 

Kuchel was staring at Kenny so intensely he felt a hole on his forehead, her insistent mouthing of “Can I talk to him?” “Let me talk to him!!”, distracting the man. 

“In fact, she is right here dying to talk to you” 

Uri laughed - a pretty sound that was - and asked to talk to Kuchel.

“Hey Uri! I haven’t seen you today but I wish you a wonderful christmas” His sister beamed at the cellphone.

She talked shortly to the other man, thanking Uri for the well wishes. Kenny was grateful his sister did not try to embarrass him this time - he had enough of her hinting to Uri that Kenny had a slight (giant) crush on the Reiss man.

“Your sister is a lovely woman. I’ll bring some food for you two when I head home”

“Nah, It’s okay, Uri. No need”

“No, I insist Kenny. We have plenty of food here anyway and I know you’ve been working a lot lately. At least we keep Kuchel with a sustainable meal to eat when you’re not home tomorrow”

“You convinced me, but don’t come crying to me when she forces you to have dinner with us and show you the same ultrasound pictures again” Kenny said, chuckling.

To that Kuchel raised her middle finger, mouthing a “fuck you, Kenny”

“Nothing more wonderful than spending the evening with Ackermans” Uri chuckled - what a pretty sound “I have to go, Frieda is looking at me like I am committing a crime, but I see the two of you soon” 

They said their goodbyes and the call went off, Kenny’s heart was doing strange jumps on his ribcage - he was down bad for that man. Kuchel was sitting on the couch, smiling like a mad woman and clapping her hands.

“Not a word” he warned her.

“For the love of god, Kenny, ask that man on a date!”

He ignored her while heading for a shower, if he let Kuchel speak about Uri he would probably end up dealing with feeling he was too tired to process. Kenny preferred to like Uri from a distance - just being neighbors that got along well. His sister constantly telling him the Reiss man was into him did not help at all. 

“Not only is he clearly interested, but he is so kind and patient, Ken! Give the poor man a little chance” she would say.

Kenny tried not to think about it, failing miserably though. He had many opportunities to meet Uri on a more romantic level, the man had invited him for coffee so many times and Kenny always refused politely. He was afraid, Uri did not know the mess he was in the head. And the worst part: Uri was really patient and understanding and respectful and observant…Kenny had a problem. 

“I’m gonna sleep” Kenny knocked on his sister’s room “need anything else?”

“No! Everything okay. You should sleep, Ken”

He wished her a good night and flopped into his bed, slumber quickly taking him. 

He never had dreams, only nightmares or an empty sleep. That night though, he dreamed about him and Kuchel sitting on a huge table full of food. His sister had a nice elegant red dress, contrasting with her long dark hair. Kenny himself looked down to see a nice set of pants and button up shirt. The decorations screamed Christmas - there was even snow outside!- but what surprised him was seeing Uri beside him, equally well dressed…with a baby in his arms. The small little human seemed to be pushing one year old, almost pink in color, pouty face, dark hair, looking at Kenny with light colored eyes.

“You want your uncle, little one?” Uri said, bouncing the child slightly.

As if he had no control, Kenny felt his arms reach out to the baby, his voice coming out in equal involuntary action.

“I know, I’m your favorite” his voice sounded…happy. Not that he was against having a nephew, he just struggled to have a connection with someone he had never met. But in that moment, looking at light blue eyes, he wondered if he could measure how dear that boy was. 

“Typical of Levi to prefer the one who calls him demon spawn” Kuchel said.

The dream faded slowly, with the last scenes of a baby on his lap while they celebrated Christmas just like that stupid movie they were watching. He woke up feeling a strange sense of missing something. Of sadness. He stayed in bed for longer than usual, wondering why he dreamed of that. His only family was Kuchel for as long as he remembers, everything different than that seemed terrifying.

The boy seemed so real. What about Uri? Could he ever be anything more than a friendly neighbor?

Deciding that he can’t afford having an existential crisis, the man finally decided to start his routine, but early morning finally came to test Kenny's bowels. As soon as he saw Kuchel enter the kitchen, seemingly uncomfortable and walking weirdly, he panicked once again. 

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Kenny asked again - to his own demise.

“Kenny!” His sister warned him.

“I’m just worried, you seem to be hurting quite a lot”

Kuchel looked at him unimpressed, not answering. She had woken up that morning complaining of a few contractions. 

“It’s probably false alarm, Kenny, but it still sucks” 

Kenny was in a full pit of anxiety at that point. Everytime she had a false alarm he panicked anyway, a single sneeze and that spawn would pop out of her. He didn't think she would make it to an entire week. 

“I’m gonna try and call your doctor again”

Kenny tried once again the number, without success. 

“We should go to the hospital, Kuch” he tried again to convince her.

“No! They’re just going to send us home again, let’s see if it progresses and then we go”

Kenny was honestly tired, and scared, but he nodded. It took several minutes for Kuchel to finally convince him to go to work for at least the morning shift, but he was not able to concentrate well. He checked her text messages constantly, alongside Uri’s.

Uri Reiss Neighbor: I’m with her, if anything happens I’ll rush her to the hospital

You: Thanks Uri, I promise I’ll be back by 2pm since it’s Xmas day

Uri Reiss Neighbor: No need to thank me, see you soon. I’m making lunch if that’s okay.

That man was a fucking saint. Kenny was down bad. He had to concentrate while trying not to fall in love with that man or dying of worry for his sister. Work was haphazardly done, Kenny practically breaking traffic laws to go home, practically climbing the stairs to his apartment floor, thinking he would have to immediately rush her to a hospital for the antichrist to be born…just to find Uri and Kuchel sitting quietly on the dinner table, tea in front of them and a deck of cards.

“Good afternoon, Kenny” Reiss greeted him.

“Hi, Ken” 

Kenny looked at his sister with confusion. She seemed composed and calm. Uri - as always - was well dressed, smelling like a hundred yards of soft flowers, calmly playing with Kuchel. 

“The contraction stopped as soon as you left” she said, pointing to her huge stomach “maybe he doesn’t like you”

Kenny groaned, sitting on the couch to catch his breath. 

“Demon spawn” he mumbled, smiling discreetly. 

Kuchel turned, burning him with her eyes. 

“He is a perfect little angel”

That was another bickering Kenny did not want to continue so he just surrendered. But he was a demon child! Anything born from an Ackerman was demonic - Kenny was an absolute nightmare as a kid and he was already dreading that baby. 

“Hungry?” Uri asked “There is a plate for you in the microwave”

His noisy stomach answered for him, guiding his already tired self to the kitchen. The food was probably from the family dinner Uri went to last night, good quality meat and tasty sauce. He wondered if he could reproduce that recipe one day and maybe make a special dinner after the baby was born. He ate on the table while watching his sister and Uri play with the cards, attentively listening to Kuchel's gossip of the apartment complex group chat. She was bored to death most days, watching people from the balcony and stalking the chat seemed to be the entertainment of the century.

“It’s okay, Uri, now that Kenny is here he can keep an eye on me” his sister said once Uri hesitated to return to his family’s home. 

“I’ll return tomorrow morning. My mother really insisted that I return to the church’s dinner tonight but if anything happens you can call me” he assured the Ackerman siblings before reluctantly leaving. 

“He is such a nice man” Kuchel quietly said once Kenny had closed the door “I know I bother you with it, but I really think he would be a good match”

Kenny smiled a little, sitting beside his sister on the couch and softly shoving her with his shoulder.

“I know, but I really don’t feel ready right now” 

Love was not something he thought was possible. Not for him, much like it wasn't for his sister. He felt her hand on his forearm, rubbing him softly. 

“I know, take your time” she said in a hushed tone “like I said, he is a very patient man”

Her calm features soon contorted into painful ones. She let a long breath out.

“Another contraction?” he asked.

She nodded, breathing in and out in a slow rhythm.

“It never really stopped, but I did not want to alarm any of you until I was sure it was constant” 

“Kuchel! What the actual fuck-”

“Shhhhh” she said “don’t scold me! I am counting them and I can’t do this if both of you keep hovering over me”

Kenny groaned, visualizing himself shaving her hair bald as revenge for the rollercoaster of worry he felt.

“Do you think it’s for real?” he asked her.

Kuchel nodded, holding his forearm strongly.

“I’m scared” she whispered “I don’t know if I can do this, Ken”

Despite his anxiety, he tried to comfort her by holding her shoulders in a strange side hug - typical of a touch terrified Kenny. She rested her head on his shoulder. 

“I’ll be with you, Kuch”

And he did. When her contractions became too unbearable and close timing, they left for the hospital in the midst of a starting rain. The streets were calm since it was late at night, everyone most likely at the churches celebrating the holiday. 

“Ma’am, my sister is giving birth” he had told the woman at the front desk.

“No father, I’m the one taking care of her” he told the social worker registering the appointment.

“Can you call another doctor then?” he almost yelled when they informed her doctor was MIA.

“Can anyone please check on her for god’s sake?!” he tried to stay calm when nobody would check on his sister when her water broke.

It was a turbulent three hours, time bringing a raging storm that occasionally painted the sky with lightning and thunder. When Kuchel was finally checked on, she was fully ready to push. Kenny was a strong man, but he wanted to die with every scream coming out of his sister’s throat. His hand was still, only because of the iron grip she had on it, otherwise he would be trembling. When the cry of a baby finally broke the room’s chaos, Kenny thought he had lost his hearing. Everything had gone muffled and fuzzy. He did not know, but later the nurses told him that he was almost hyperventilating, still holding Kuchel’s hand despite his eyes losing focus. 

“Look at him, Kenny” Kuchel was crying “he is so small”

The baby laying on her chest was nothing like the grown infant of his dream, in fact, that newborn was multiple shades of red and purple, scrunched face and tiny feet, limbs so thin they could be compared to the girth of Kenny’s fingers. 

“Sir, breathe in and out, you’ll be fine” said a nurse nearby. 

He kept his eyes on the small being, then at his sister. She was sweaty, exhausted and crying profusely. He wanted her cries to be only of happiness, but he knew she was just as terrified of this as he was. They were just two adults with a fucked up story, having to care for a non planned baby. He was barely 25 and had an entire human to watch out for - because he sure would not leave Kuchel to deal with this on her own. 

“Welcome, spawn. I’m your uncle” he managed to choke out. 

Kuchel laughed, more because of the drugs than actually finding the nickname funny. He spent the entire night watching over a sleeping sister and the baby in the bassinet. He admired as the storm raged in the first hours of the morning, the darkness still outside. His cellphone would occasionally ring with notifications.

Uri Reiss neighbor: I got stuck because of the rain, the streets are flooded. I’ll get there, I promise, but it might take a while. Tell me what I can bring to you or Kuchel.

He smiled at the phone, sending Uri his gratitude. Despite the chaos outside, he felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was the medication the nurses administered due to his mini anxiety attack, but he liked to think it was a sign that everything would be alright. 

“How are you feeling?” said the slurred voice of Kuchel.

“I should be asking this”

“Well, I'm a bit high” she smiled “and you seem too”

He chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kuchel looked at the bassinet, warmth in her tired eyes. 

“He is out…”

“On a holiday!” Kenny complemented “spawn made sure to be born at the same day of Jesus”

“Fuck you” she laughed “I think he came to force us to celebrate christmas day in a way or another”

Kenny nodded, not doubting for a moment that whatever ruled this world had a strange sense of humor. 

“He was almost born on the 26th for just a few minutes” he said “he was determined”

The Ackerman siblings kept the comfortable silence, Kuchel not taking her eyes off the sleeping baby nearby. 

“Kenny”

“Hm?”

He looked at her tired eyes, Kenny realizing they were so similar to the baby of his dream.

“I don’t have a name for him” 

“You were never satisfied with the thousand names you picked” he replied.

“Maybe something with a ‘K’? To match us” she said.

“That’s horrendous, Kuchel!” he protested “Me and you having a name with a ‘K’ is already atrocious enough”

“You’re right…” she said “I want something that doesn’t come from parents we barely knew”

Kenny deliberated if he should tell her about the name of his dream. Levi…he remembered something about that name in bible study he was forced into by the orphanage. It meant something specific, meant-

“Connection”

Kuchel eyed him as if he had lost his mind.

“Kenny, if this is your suggestion-”

“No, woman, listen!” he interrupted “I mean that he is connected to us only. Your kid, my nephew, nothing else”

“Well, that’s true” 

“And Levi means connected, joined” He finally said it. 

Kuchel pondered for a moment, analyzing the name by looking at the child’s sleeping shape. 

“A biblical name, right? I remember it from church” Kuchel said.

“It’s just a suggestion-”

“I like it” she interrupted this time “Levi. It sounds firm, strong”

She smiled, as if contemplating calling him that for the rest of his life. Kenny thought she would put up a fight - for being the one to carry for months and not choosing the name. 

“Levi it is” she concluded.

Kenny nodded, happy that she liked it. He did not know if his dream was prophetic or just an amalgamation of anxiety and nine months of constantly thinking about this other being in their lives. 

“Can I ask you something really important?”

He nodded.

“He was born on Christmas” she began “I know we never really liked this day because of all the family bullshit, but now…”

He understood. They were bitter people, but that kid had nothing to do with it. 

“We’re gonna give him the Christmas we never had, right Kenny?” 

[bryng]

Do u like music:00

If so what kind of musiccc

music is like. my favorite thing of all time. you have given me an excuse to talk about music so i am going to TALK about MUSIC!!!!

i think my music taste is wide and varied, and that is displayed best by my favorite band of all time, WEEN!!!!!

Ween are a band from the late 80s (first studio album releasing in 1990) who have so much range they have at least one song for everyone. Ween are mostly known for making the song at the end of the 2004 Spongebob movie (ocean man, not s&pctpwoe). Ween are made up primarily of Dean Ween (real name Mickey Melchiondo) and Gene Ween (Aaron Freeman). They were active from 1984 to 2010 before breaking up for a short while. They got back together in 2016 and have been touring ever since! Here are some of my favorite Ween songs / albums:

● Favorite Album: Pure Guava (1992), Pure Guava was Ween's first record on a large label (Elektra) and despite this it has some of the goofiest and loudest songs. Favorite tracks from Pure Guava are Springtheme, Tender Situation, and Don't Get 2 Close (2 My Fantasy)

● Second Favorite Album: Quebec (2003), Quebec is Ween's most serious work, it still contains a bit of the goofiness found on The Mollusk, but has much darker and sadder themes. Favorite tracks include Chocolate Town, Transdermal Celebration, and If You Could Save Yourself (You'd Save Us All).

● Favorite Song: It's a hard choice since they are all so good, but I think it has to be Transitions from Shinola, it has such a cool laidback atmosphere and some of the best instrumentation I've ever heard.

OKAY NEXT BAND!!!

Mr. Bungle is an outlier in my tastes, I've never really been into metal at all, but Mr. Bungle does it so differently that I can't not enjoy it. Mr. Bungle is the brain child of a high school aged Mike Patton. The music of Mr. Bungle changes WILDLY from album to album, from goofy carnival metal on their self-titled album (1991) to almost avant garde noise metal on Disco Volante (1995) to margarita metal on California (1999). Mr. Bungle is often crude and vulgar (especially on their first album) but the love and attention they put into their albums really shows. My favorite Mr. Bungle album is Disco Volante, it's loud and intense in a very comforting way, like a weighted blanket.

Favorite songs include Quote Unquote, Pink Cigarette, The Bends, and Stubb - A Dub.

Lastly, for a touch of more normal stuff, see LEMON DEMON

Possibly the tamest of my favorite musicians, Lemon Demon is the title that internet guy Neil Cicierega releases most of his music under. He started releasing music under Lemon Demon in 2003, continuing up until this day! Lemon Demon's most popular release is Spirit Phone, an album about ghosts and ghouls and governmental coverups and ronald reagan. My personal favorite Lemon Demon release is the 5 track long I Am Become Christmas EP. As the name suggests IABC is a christmas EP, but the sounds on it are too good to be relegated to just christmas time. It's like a dialed back Spirit Phone, without as many loud songs and overall very peaceful while still containing a spooky vibe. Some of my favorite Lemon Demon songs include Nothing Worth Loving Isn't Askew, Spring-Heeled Jack, and Telekinesis. I own most of the Lemon Demon discography on vinyl, only missing Damn Skippy and IABC.

Thanks for giving me an excuse to talk about my favorite artists bread <3

[devildom-moss]

I can tell you what fruits i like!

Apples

Oranges

Kiwi

Dragonfruit

Pears

The kinda pears we call pears but arent pears

Lychee

Strawberries

Blueberries

Raspberries

Grapes

Bananas

Durian

Mangosteen

Papaya

Longan

Mangos

Watermelon

Cherries

Peach

Guava

That one fruit thats like a mangosteen but not

Coconuts

Honeydew

Rambutan

Passion fruit

Theres probably more that i forgot </3

That's quite a lot. I actually have not heard mangosteen or rambutan before. Some of these are not super widely available where I live, though. I know what a loganberry is, but I have never seen one being sold. Maybe I need to go to farmers markets again (but crowds of people and sunlight...)

I don't know what the unnamed not-pear is or the not-mangosteen is. There are pears that don't look like traditional pear shapes (Asian pears, for example), but they are still pears.

I am curious if you were just listing or if you went in a particular order? When I mentioned that I shouldn't be allowed to mention fruit I like, I mostly meant my top favorite fruits. (Which I'm actually weirdly specific if I'm asked about my favorite fruit. It's mango - but specifically honey/yellow mango because it's the superior mango and pomegranate is a close second, so I feel like it's unfair to lump all mangos into the top spot when, yeah all mangos are good, but the honey mango does the heavy lifting in the favorite position. I can't do pomegranate dirty like that. The poor fruit has such a short season for me to treat it like that).

My favorite fruits tend to have romantic or erotic associations/symbolism. (I accidentally have slutty tastes, I guess?) I just get into using them in writing: the sweetness, the color, the seasonality, the ability to stain. . . I enjoy using food in writing in general, I think. My brain just gets a kick out of adding it into writing. It adds a bit of spice (pardon the pun - or pun adjacent since spices aren't technically food, and the double entendre for when I write about food in smut)

[edhelwen1]

Oooh fun!

I'm going to answer for the main protagonists of Assassins! Accidental Matchmakers and Crushing It.

1. Drink order:

Kennedy: sex on the beach, coffee, or water

Jason: long island iced tea, coffee, or water

Tommy (underage): guava juice

Carter (underage): guava juice

2. Grooming routine: (I'm going to say in the morning)

Kennedy: usually has to rush so that she isn't late, so a quick splash at the sink and a brush of her hair

Jason: quick shower

Tommy: swipe of deodorant and just throws on clothes

Carter: quick shower

3. Disposable income:

Kennedy: food she wouldn't usually buy

Jason: training equipment

Tommy: music stuff

Carter: targets for knife throwing

4. Scars or tattoos:

Kennedy: a tiny scar on her knee from when she was little

Jason: SO MANY of both

Tommy: none at age 15

Carter: none by end of Crushing It

5. Last time they cried:

Kennedy: chapter 9 of Assassins

Jason: chapter 25 of Assassins

Tommy: unsure

Carter: unsure

6. Siblings:

Kennedy: 4th of 5

Jason: 1st of 2

Tommy: 5th of 5

Carter: only

7. Shoes:

Kennedy: good shoes for walking and standing for hours

Jason: has dress shoes and good running shoes

Tommy: worn-in sneakers that he loves and won't get rid of until they have holes

Carter: running shoes

8. Describe the place they sleep:

Kennedy: in Assassins, a double bed in a bachelor apartment in Westmeath

Jason: a king bed in the primary bedroom in his house in Westmeath

Tommy: a double bed in his parent's house (on a farm near Parry Sound)

Carter: a twin bed in his parent's house (above the bakery they own)

9. Favourite holiday:

Kennedy: Christmas because of the lights (but Halloween is a very close second because of the costumes)

Jason: Christmas because of family time

Tommy: Christmas because of presents (giving and receiving)

Carter: Halloween because of the costumes

10. Common objects they carry:

Kennedy: purse with keys and money to buy lunch

Jason: wallet and phone

Tommy: guitar picks and pencil stub

Carter: phone and wallet

If you're interested in my books after hearing about the main characters, these are them:

Btw, Crushing It is now available for pre-order as an ebook!!!

So my problem with most ‘get to know your character’ questioneers is that they’re full of questions that just aren’t that important (what color eyes do they have) too hard to answer right away (what is their greatest fear) or are just impossible to answer (what is their favorite movie.)  Like no one has one single favorite movie. And even if they do the answer changes.

If I’m doing this exercise, I want 7-10 questions to get the character feeling real in my head. So I thought I’d share the ones that get me (and my students) good results: 

What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how do they like to be publicly perceived, because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/resturant)

What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private)

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? (Gets you thinking about socio-economic class, values, and how they spend their leisure time)

Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory) 

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.) 

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? (This one might be a me thing, because I LOVE writing/reading about family dynamics, but knowing what kinds of things were ‘normal’ for them growing up is important.)

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. (This is a big catch all, gets into money, taste, practicality, level of wear, level of repair, literally what kind of shoes they require to live their life.)

Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.)

What is their favorite holiday? (How do they relate to their culture/outside world. Also fun is least favorite holiday.) 

What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.) 

[the-cutest-covenn]

Hey hi! What’s your favorite tree?

we love the guava trees that grow near our home, they’re so pretty when they’re in bloom and of course you get delicious guavas out of them!

close second is pear trees, we’ll never forget reading Their Eyes Were Watching God after one of our American friends reccomended it to us, the symbolism with them just stuck with me ever since -🦇💫

[elfborne]

bits and pieces

On the darkest of nights, when the earth was lulled into a great stupor, I would slip out of my house and tiptoe to the river. The moon and stars kept me company, and the snakes and scorpions would shy away from my footfalls.

I would whisper a prayer into the wind, and it would rush into the bubbling froth, the foaming green mud, the gaping, croaking mouth of a bullfrog, and the pure white petals of the blooms that shrouded the banks of the river.

And at the banks, the river god would be waiting for me, with stars in his eyes and water on his lips, the bones in his back shimmering in the moonlight.

***

Rules and regulations, they spit. The only thing keeping this world from chaos. They poke and prod at me with canes - one on a knee, the other on a palm, while another drums the deadwood desk, desperate to leave a red, flaming welt on my skin. Another scar.

They circle me like vultures, savoring my displeasure, my restlessness, waiting for the ripest moment to rip me apart.

You are not like a boy. My hair too long, my gait too slow, they tell me. I don’t run, and I don’t catch. I am always found sitting under the aging tree. I talk too much, I talk too little. The others point. Whisper. Laugh. But only at me. They’re worried for me, they say. Worried about how I might turn out.

Their disapproval hangs in the air, pulling at it, stretching it thin until I can’t breathe. Ezra, the headmaster says. You will fall in line.

But I only hear the word fall.

***

Death. All around me. Living, breathing, moving. Everywhere. Through the bookshelves, where tiny arthropod carcasses are pressed between heavy, yellowing books. In the clock, where seconds rise and fall, and the hours are stashed away in the mouth of a little wooden cuckoo. All around me, life comes to a cold, trembling end. A dead, scaly fish rots in the river. A bird, black all over, drops dead in the woods. A pink, fleshy guava blushes, ripens and deadens.

***

And there we both were, in the sacred heart of the night, rummaging in the blackness for what we had lost, only to be found within each other. Our very own center of the universe, where only our hearts ticked, and everything else stood still.

***

A glass that went down like liquid fire, hot and molten, down his throat. A bottle of that clear stuff, and he felt golden all over, head to toe.

***

And that night, they made love until the moon closed her eyes in shame.

***

We spent our nights tangled in each other, searching our bodies for something we couldn’t find words for. We leaped over skin and flesh, twisted through limbs, and I met his lips with mine. Tongues poured into mouths, and we drank from each other, soothing parched land with spit.

***

‘I’m not gay,’ he told me one day, skimming stones into the river. It was late July, and we were on the banks. Three bounces, and the first stone sank. ‘I’m not attracted to guys. I don’t think of them when I’m horny.’

‘You’re not attracted to me?’

‘No, you’re just a friend. You make me feel like I can always open up to you’, he said, counting the bounces. One, two, three, four, he whispers. And it sinks.

I wasn’t your fucking friend when you had your dick in me last week, I think, but I know better than to speak. He thumbs the next stone and flicks it into the water. It bounces once and sinks to the bed, and along with it a part of me too.

[apiag]

My Life Journey From Childhood to Adulthood

Hello everyone I am gian cristel apiag, 18 years old. The story of my Life I have a very fulfilling feeling about what I have been able to accomplish in my life so far. Before my family is so close to many kids, that's why I'm so friendly. I want our house full of kids, so that I have friends to play with. So everyday we played so many games like bahay-bahayan or family roleplaying games, and so we played we cook a rice into the can of milk and our viand is dried fish and we are happy for that. And one time my cousin is cooking a rice and my other cousin put a salt and nips on it, she told us when we put salt and nips we don't needed a viand. So when my older cousin taste it she is so angry because it taste like spoiled rice, and that was the only rice we bought because we don't have enough money, and if we get rice from our house our mother would get mad because they think that we're just playing the rice. And the other day we played again and their is a sofa that my mother throw it away because its broke, and we open the sofa and there is a lot of sacks, so we get it and make a house. When we are done making the house (we make a house with a second floor using a chairs and fly wood) so we played and we slept at the second floor, and when my cousin(boy) is coming with his friends he sat on the chair were we put the flywood to make a second floor, and then he pulled the chair so we fall and he just laughing with his friends and they sing the hala nahulog song, so I get mad. And so, I get a lot of rocks and throw it to them and they cried. So my mother get angry because why were so noisy, so she told me to get inside of our house and they crashed our play house. And many weeks had pass, we have a neighbor that has no TV so my mom let them get inside of our house to watch. And also we have a tree of a guava and the brother of our neighbor climb and get some guava and I ask him if can I have some because I dont know how to climb, and he told me no. And so what I do is I get his slippers and throw it away and shake the tree of the guava hahaha.

And when I get older we did not play a bahay-bahayan anymore, what we play is hide and seek. And we play it at night to make it interesting because it's so hard finding a person at night and also it so scared because it's so dark. And many days we played I getting fall in love with one of my friend, but sadly the one I crush on is have a crush to my cousin. So I did not play with them anymore. I only standby in our house and watch movies. Many years have past and I get older, zia(my cousin) always took us at the mall and eat Jollibee and also she bought us dresses or anything. And also there is a time when I was a kid we make fun of my cousins hair because it is bald, so she get mad and we just laughting and he chase us with a big rock on his hands so we ran and my cousins saw a jeep and they climb on the top of it and I'm the last one who climb and I get caught with my cousin climbing the jeep so he pulled my feet so I fall to the ground from the top of the jeep and my right hand got injured so I cried a lot .Sadly my mom and dad is in the market so my cousins call my dad,so my mom and dad rushed home because they told them that my arms got injured. And they make joked that my hand would cement and put tiles on it so I cried even more. But thankfully it is just a lame, so we went to Lola Carmen to massage my hand.

Time flies when I was in grade 7 I met a lot of people and they become my best friends, and we got a very nice and generous teacher, because every salary of our teacher she free us a snack. And we are very thankful that she is our grade 7 adviser. And when I turned grade 8 I met new people I had 5 best friends, with them I tried going to the beach and going to the mall without my parents. And I'm so happy that I tried those things and I always cherish those times and I won't forget those moments. But sadly there is a virus from china that stops our face to face class. And many people lost their job and especially my father. Thankfully we have a neighbor that sells a vegetables and he let my mom sells those so that my mom can provide our daily needs during covid. Though my COVID days is a bit fun because my relatives always in our house they always cook there and we will eat together, so that I gained a little bit of weight because there is a lot of food those times. And when face to face class are back I was already grade 11 and their where I met those 4 monkeys who makes me happy at school and enjoy my teenage years. Everytime we had achievements we eat at fastfoods nor we go to the beach. And I always thank them for completing and makes my teenage years memorable and unforgettable. Though my life isn't that interesting but the time to breathe before advancing further in my future, the difficult moments instead of discouraging me, these moments give me motivation and the necessary energy to move forward. The journey to childhood to adulthood is not something that happens in the blink of an eye but rather within time.

[mariposamisteriosa-blog]

White Drops

My normal days tend to be where my perfect spot is,  Next to the guava tree. The sun shines bright in my direction but with the help of my best friend Guava. Her shade helps me by not catching too much heat. My owner takes great care of me and makes sure my pedals get the best treatment. She loves to talk to me and shows me great love and how much I mean to her. She says I remind her of her mother and says Lilies were her favorite flowers. When it gets cloudy and rainy I get the perfect amount of rain drops. Guava guards me with her branches to make sure I don’t get ruined completely by the shower. When it doesn’t rain my owner gives me the right amount of water, not too much and not too little. I am used to only two types of weather, rain and hot days. I never knew my life could change in a matter of seconds. 

It was cloudy, my owner was out of town and asked her daughter to check up on me. Like she would care about me. It happened so unexpectedly and fast that I felt like I was freezing to death. One day, the clouds looked darker than usual but realized it must be a heavy rain when suddenly I felt a white drop on my head and didn’t understand if it was Guava flowers or if it was in my head. It felt cold at the touch and that frightened me. It was during the winter but it wasn’t hale I'm used to hale this was different. As minutes passed I felt another white drop on my leave but soon after it felt like it was raining. The white drops kept coming faster and it wasn’t just a couple of drops but several. I looked at the grass in front of me and realized it started to look white and not green. Rain doesn’t do that.

Coldness was covering the air and I felt as though I was going to freeze to death and I couldn’t do anything about it. The breeze made it even colder for me. I was scared, I never once experienced this type of weather. My pedals started freezing and with the cold breeze, one by one kept falling. Guava branches weren’t protecting me enough. It was as though I knew this was the end for me and I couldn’t get to say goodbye to my owner. What will she think happened? Will she blame Guava for not protecting me like usual? The grass kept turning white and I knew this wouldn’t end well. 

My leaves had white drops that didn’t go away and that made me colder and colder. I was sad and felt myself becoming heavy from the coldness. It felt as though I was going to break and this time I wouldn’t be able to grow again for her. Will my disappearance damage her? I felt sleepy and decided to close my eyes.

A couple of days passed, and my owner was changing me into different pots to make sure it was perfect for me. She called it snowing and said things like that never happened. I was okay and I was still chilly but she took me inside for a couple of days and made sure I was safe. That summer she put me next to Guava and I knew if it wasn’t for her and her branches I wouldn’t be here today. Who knew it could snow in California?

[eyesoforpheus]

in the tags put your favorite carb, fruit, vegetable, protein (meat/fish/tofu, etc), sauce, hot drink, and cold drink!