#I also think walnuts taste like soap but that’s their appeal to me when I add them to deserts

[padawansuggest]

Hot take I’m a massive tea drinker who breaks every rule. I don’t heat it to a specific temp. I don’t time it when I steep. I sweeten it (with monkfruit drops) before I taste it because no I’m not gonna taste something that was boiling three minutes ago how about YOU burn your tongue off. I don’t even much care if I steep it too long. I will mix and match whatever I feel like when I fill the steeper I’m just out here making experiments with tossing in lemon zest or a piece of ginger I don’t give a fuck. If I don’t think the tea is strong enough I grab a White Emperor (racist much) bag from the cabinet and toss it in next to the steeper. I like adding weird shit like cocoa powder or vanilla and not just to rooibos either.

I don’t even care how big the mug is I’m filling it to the brim if it’s not enough tea I’ll add more or steep it longer. I’m a fucking rebel.

I like cold brew tea just as much as hot tea. In fact, if I make hot tea and forget about it long enough to become cold, great. Now I have a cold drink. Delicious.

And you know what??????? I still think 90% of teas taste the same. I’ll still drink them but I don’t have much preference as long as it’s not green tea or peppermint because I’m very allergic to those. I mean I’m often allergic to a lot of the ingredients I sprinkle in but I mean peppermint literally melts my insides and leaves me bleeding for days but green tea turns me into an inflatable non-fun house and it hurts so bad.

But like. Yeah. I got a lot of things wrong with me, but my insistence to drinking something that I believe 90% of the time tastes basically the same??? Lmao.

[obsidianfr3sk]

Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 3)

Summary:  Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.

They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246812/chapters/64645693

Enough of the gays, let’s see what the girls had been up to (? ah, and Evander lol. Uh... this is the first time I don’t have anything to say. Likes and reblogs are appreciated as always, I love y’all, and idk i send you, person reading this, good mexican vibes (? 

Tag list:  @nodrianbcyes @healing-winston-pratt @lethughandsimonkiss @cerenoya @cindersnightmare @itsalittlebitchilly @ohmyskies

A golden medallion, a golden cage

Please picture me in the weeds before I learned civility.

I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted.

Sweet tea in the summer,

cross my heart, won’t tell no other.

Tamaya

When she first arrived at that abandoned store, she thought it would take years for it to feel like home. There were many empty boxes, rats, dust, and rusty pipes. Also, Tamaya had never cleaned in her life. The prospect of having to deal with this mess on her own was not the least bit appealing to her.

However, the idea of going home was even less so.

The first night was uncomfortable. She couldn't sleep at all. Luckily, she had brought a flashlight with her and started to cover all the windows with loose wood and old cardboard. Then, with some chains and furniture, she blocked the entrances. She looked up at the ceiling and realized there was a light catcher.

Tamaya smiled. She wasn’t gonna block it.

She had overestimated how long it would take to clean the whole place. It turns out that when there was nothing else to do, one can work remarkably fast, even without help. Rats were the least of her problems. She wasn't disgusted when she grabbed them, stuffed them into a box, and released them a few blocks further at night. Georgia was so shocked by it that the first thing she did the next day was giving her an antibacterial gel. A luxury item in those times.

Tamaya preferred when Georgia brought her food. She didn’t like that much the fact she was living off the garbage from the place next door.

On the eighth night, she looked at her reflection in the dirty mirror at the back of the room. The candlelight was the only thing that illuminated her. Molly was sitting on her lap. She noticed that her once flawless green dress had tiny spots of an unknown substance.

But Tamaya looked even worse. Clothes had never mattered much to her and her wings were fine. What worried her the most was her hair. It had always been long. She had tried to convince her parents for years to let her cut it off, but they never let her. Why? Her hair was the prettiest thing she had.

It was at that moment, that Tamaya realized that she no longer needed to look pretty to anyone. Beauty was overrated.

She took a pair of scissors and cut her hair.

Her head and soul felt lighter.

The sun hadn't quite risen yet when Georgia entered through the light trap. For a few seconds, Tamaya could see the firmament was as pink as only sunrises could be. Under her arm, Georgia carried a cloth bag.

Tamaya rubbed her eyes wearily. She had been waiting for her sitting on an old chair for a long time.

“Honey, I’m home!” Georgia exclaimed gracefully coming down.

She always made the same joke. And Tamaya always had to pretend she didn’t find it funny.

“Oh, but I haven’t prepared breakfast yet,” she muttered.

Georgia looked at Molly and tossed the cloth bag at her. “Molly, catch it!”

Obviously, Molly didn't catch it. Georgia pretended to smash a cup of glass against the wall and raised herself a few feet off the ground to appear taller than Tamaya. “Tamaya, I want more children. Molly is too lazy and ugly.”

Tamaya put her hand to her mouth and faked a sob. “How can you say that in front of your daughter, Georgia?—” She waved at Molly. “—In front of your daughter!”

Then her friend grunted and lunged at Tamaya, knocking them down onto the mattress. “No! She is not a worthy heir to my wealth!” she exclaimed, sitting on her lap. “Her head is made of plastic! And she’s white! Tamaya, I'm not white! Who is the father?!”

“Of course she's your daughter!” Tamaya replied “You know how I know she’s yours? Because she’s a little piece of shit too!”

Georgia's jaw dropped. She closed her eyes, sighed, and with a dreamy smile, whispered, “A little piece of shit… That's my daughter,” and kissed her on the cheek.

Tamaya had never received kisses in her life. If her parents ever did, she had been too young to remember. But she liked it when Georgia did it because it was like...

Well, as if a sister did it. Or a mom. Or a real friend.

“That was the magic kiss that makes babies, by the—” Suddenly, Georgia dropped to the ground holding her belly. “Oh no, the baby is coming! The baby is coming! “ and, amid false screams worthy of a woman in labor, she took out of her jacket pocket a blue cardboard box with pink details. “Oh… Oh, Tamaya, dear,” she muttered, standing up. “She's beautiful,” and she put it in her arms.

Tamaya looked at it. They were tampons.

She didn't know where she was getting the strength not to laugh.

“Tampons Rae,” she whispered, stroking what would be the cheek of the box.

“Molly will be so jealous…”

“Molly will love her new sister. I'm sure.”

Georgia finally laughed and lay down next to Tamaya. It amazed her that lying on such a small, old mattress didn't bother her. She had never been to her room, but in her head, Tamaya had the image of her friend lying on a bed that could easily fit six people, wearing pajamas worthy of a princess and with the room smelling like vanilla and strawberries. Nothing to do with where they were now.

She looked at the box of tampons more closely. It felt a little lighter than expected, so she assumed Georgia had kept a few for her personal use, which honestly didn’t bother her. Then, she took out what was inside the bag. A bar of soap, a bottle of apple soda, and two bags of walnuts about to expire.

There were fewer supplies than last time.

She arranged them in a loose drawer next to the mattress. There was still an energy bar left that Georgia had brought her a couple of days ago. She took it and handed it to her.

“No, you eat, Tamaya,” Georgia said with a smile. “I have plenty at my house.”

“Okey,” she replied with a shrug. Tamaya took a small bite. It tasted weird. “Has your mom got a job yet?”

“No,” she muttered. “But she is already an older woman. Maybe that's why nobody wants to hire her. And it's not like many people have money to pay one more employee anyways. Also, she may have been an excellent lawyer at the time, but I'm not so sure if she's a good housekeeper or waitress.”

Tamaya nodded. She shouldn't have asked.

“I'm thinking about looking for a job too—”

“She won't let you.”

“So what?” Georgia said challengingly. “That thing about staying at home, reading and embroidering, doesn't suit me.” She crossed her arms. “I'm nineteen years old, I think it's time for me to start making my own decisions.”

Decisions. What a strange word.

Because that implied that she had options.

And Tamaya had already gotten used to not having them.

The good thing is that she was fully aware of it.

Georgia bit her lower lip and stood up. “I guess I should go. You know… to keep looking for a job.”

“Yes,” Tamaya said. "I guess you should.”

Her friend took the cloth bag. Tamaya walked with her until they were just below the light catcher. She should go out in the sun for a bit before people started to go outside.

“I'll come back tomorrow,” Georgia assured her, taking her hand. “I promise.”

She had promised that before and she had not always kept her word. However, Tamaya had already learned that promises were very easy to break and she didn't take it personally.

“I’ll wait for you.”

And she left.

And Tamaya was left alone. Again.

She waited a couple of minutes before sticking her head out of the light trap. She looked up at the morning sky, cold and clear, with the smell of garbage and pollution that characterized it at all hours. There was still no one on the streets, but the lady from the Chinese food place next door was taking out the trash from the day before, like every morning.

Breakfast.

Unlike Tamaya, she never looked up at the sky.

Nobody did. If they did, they would be aware of her presence. But people were too into their own thing that they didn't even bother to see something beyond their noses. Just thinking of themselves and their wishes. Of course, now that there was no longer someone to punish those who disrespected the thin line there was between good and evil, they had taken the opportunity to bring out the most primitive and selfish part of their beings.

Tamaya had spent a lot of her time thinking about it, and she still didn't understand the reason behind it.

Maybe it was that Tamaya would never understand the world of normal people.

Yes. That was probably it.

She waited for the woman to return inside to completely leave her lair. Tamaya was ready to go down to look for her food when a small and slim figure came out from behind some wooden boxes and ran towards the garbage bags.

She was going to take her breakfast.

Tamaya wasn't going to make it so easy for her.

That was what happened when people did not look up to the sky.

Kasumi

She wasn't looking in the trash for food, no. Kasumi was collecting the ingredients for the royal breakfast, which would take place in the most beautiful Chinese garden in the kingdom. It would be held that morning. They would be sitting by the river's edge, on a soft white blanket. She and Evander were going to eat like the monarchs that they were. There would be hard-boiled eggs, fresh plums, strawberries and cream, pancakes, waffles covered with jam, and cookie milkshakes. They would be able to eat whatever they wanted without getting sick to their stomachs. And if they did, they would only have to sing a song to the waters of the river and it would become the sweetest and most effective stomach ache remedy of all.

It was going to be the best feast there could have been.

But first, she had to find the ingredients.

She held her breath as she rummaged through the remains of rotten vegetables and sticky noodles. Think, think, think.

Kasumi was holding her breath because... the ingredients came from a magical bush. They had flowers that gave off a foul odor to scare off intruders. However, when they realized that Kasumi was pure of heart, they would reveal their true scent of grapes and rays of the sun.

Then, among all that mess, she found a box of white foam. She carefully removed a few pieces of grated carrot and tore it open with trembling hands.

Fried rice. A delicious plate of fried rice. And it actually looked edible.

She hugged the box with a lump in her throat. Oh, Evander was going to love this—

“That's mine.”

Kasumi froze.

It was the coldest and most terrifying voice she had ever heard. Hoarse and stern, it rumbled in her head like thunder in a storm.

A tear rolled down her cheek. God, Evander was so hungry. She was so hungry...

“Give it to me. Now.”

Kasumi rubbed her eyes and turned around. She put the foam box on the floor. and was about to look up, when the voice commanded, “Don't look at me.”

She obeyed. The mysterious voice took the box.

“I didn't mean to steal your food,” she muttered. “Sorry.”

A feather fell in front of her. Kasumi was slightly startled. Her head completely forgot what the voice had commanded, and she shone her flashlight.

It was a woman. She had shoulder-length hair and an aquiline nose. That, along with her amber eyes and huge black wings, Kasumi was sure she was seeing a bird. A lady.

A Ladybird.

Ladybird, are you the one who protects the magic bushes?

Ladybird did not like the light on her face. She hissed and slapped the flashlight from Kasumi’s hand. “I told you not to look at me!” she yelled.

At that moment, a flash caught Kasumi's attention. A flash of gold that came from a broken medallion hanging from Ladybird's neck.

She reached into the back pocket of her pants and felt between her fingers the half of that same locket that belonged to her.

Kasumi was wrong. Ladybird did not protect the magic bushes. Ladybird was a thief. Not only had she taken her and Evander's food, but she had also taken Mr. Holbrook's locket.

How delusional of her to believe that there were still people who protected something other than themselves.

Ladybird spread her wings, ready to take off when Kasumi lunged at her and tried to yank the locket from her. She pulled and pulled but the old chain wouldn't give up and Ladybird wouldn't stop yelling, “What the hell?! Let go of me!”

She took her by her long braid and threw her to the ground. However, the adrenaline rush allowed her to jump up and grab onto Ladybird's ankle. “That is not yours!” cried Kasumi. “Thief!”

“IT'S MY FOOD, BITCH!”

“IT'S NOT YOUR MEDALLION!”

The door to the store opened. Kasumi became so flustered that she accidentally let go of Ladybird's ankle and fell backward against the concrete. The lady started yelling rude words at her in an accent Kasumi could barely understand. She got to her feet, dodged the lady's broom, and ran as fast as her legs would allow her.

Regardless, Kasumi wished that Ladybird had escaped in time before the lady saw her. Something told her that she was not going to be nicer to her than she was to Kasumi.

She carefully pushed the rusty trash can. That, and the piece of wood that they put over that hole in the wall, made it impossible for someone unfamiliar with the area to know there was a secret entrance. Kasumi wondered how they would enter when they grew up. She herself sometimes had a little difficulty entering. But surely it was just her imagination. Besides, it wasn't like that wall was especially difficult to pull down.

From the looks of it, that place used to be an apartment complex. All the main entrances had been blocked with rubble and there was not a single window that was not broken. Kasumi and Evander had settled on the third floor. It was a dangerous thing to walk those increasingly unstable stairs, but it would be more dangerous for someone to remove the rubble, enter and see them. On the third floor, they would at least have a little time to escape.

Luckily, it hadn't been necessary yet.

She entered her small apartment and found Evander coloring the wall with pieces of chalk they had found in the park. When he saw her, his dirty freckled face lit up as much as the fireworks that came from his hands. “Kasumi!” he screeched. “Did you bring breakfast? Tell me you brought breakfast!”

Heartbroken, Kasumi swallowed the lump in her throat and clasped her hands behind her back. “Today I brought our favorite food, Vandy…”

Evander smiled even more. Kasumi opened an imaginary box and whispered, “Stardust cookies.”

Her friend's smile twisted a little in an almost imperceptible way. “Stardust cookies!" he exclaimed, taking one. Kasumi moistened her hands with her powers and wiped his face. Now, Evander didn’t look that dirty anymore. “Let me guess, these were cooked by—” he scratched his chin thoughtfully “—Your Mr. Dad!”

“No, it was your Mr. Dad,” Kasumi replied. They sat right in front of the window to eat their stardust cookies. There was still a star left in the sky. Perfect . “Hello Mr. Wade, thanks for the cookies. Evander, don't be rude. Thank to your Mr. Dad.”

Evander put his pieces of chalk in his pockets. He kept a pink one and gave Kasumi the blue one. “Thanks, Dad!” and proceeded to color a flower in the window frame.

Kasumi took a stardust cookie and chewed it. She always imagined stardust cookies as if they were vanilla cookies with pieces of almonds and white chocolates, so soft they left puffs all over the place.

Hopefully one day she could taste some real stardust cookies.

She decided to draw fishes.

“Don’t you think that today's cookies were a bit burnt?” Evander whispered.

“No, they were delicious,” she replied. “Your Mr. Dad showed off. Who do you think cooks better, your Mr. Dad or my Dad?”

“Mom Bertha.”

Kasumi giggled underneath. “You’re right, Vandy.”

They kept coloring.

They had always drawn on the walls. Their drawings, pretty cans, curious rocks, and bunches of sticks that hung from the corded rafters were the only decorations they had. However, lately, they had chosen to draw on the window frame during the early hours of the day.

Maybe it was because there was something romantic about drawing in the light of dawn. Or maybe it was because she liked to think that their parents could see what they were drawing from the stars.

Or both.

“I don't know if I can bear the same breakfast tomorrow,” Evander murmured. “We've been eating stardust cookies for almost two days.”

Don't cry, Kasumi, don't cry.

“And what do you want to eat then?” she asked. “What a pretty flower, by the way.”

Evander shook his head. “No, tell me what you want. And I'll get it myself today.”

Kasumi pursed her lips and scratched her head, pretending to seriously consider her answer. “I would like…” she muttered. “Oh, I know, a giant chocolate cake.”

“No, Kasumi, something easy!” Evander squealed, nudging her slightly. “A giant chocolate cake will crush me!” He threw himself to the ground and pretended to be crushed by a huge chocolate cake. “I'll be like this, dead…”

“How awful!” she exclaimed. “So… maybe a small chocolate cake?”

“Now that sounds a lot more reasonable,” he replied, sitting down again. “At least that one isn't going to crush me.”

“I don't feel comfortable speaking ill about your Mr. Dad’s food in front of him,” Kasumi said. “He's going to say I'm a bad influence and he won't let me hang out with you.”

“Dad, Kasumi is not a bad influence!” Evander yelled to the sky, “I swear!”

Mr. Wade looked at her from above, annoyed.

Kasumi didn't feel bad. She deserved it.

“Look at my flower,” Evander said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He pointed to a pink flower with triangular petals and huge circular leaves. “I just created it, it is a new species. Do you know how I'm going to name it?”

She ran her fingers over the drawing. If she concentrated enough, she could imagine that she was touching those velvety petals and not the hard concrete. “How?”

“Kasumi. Like you.”

Kasumi sighed.

Mrs. Moon, how do I explain that I am not worthy of having such a beautiful flower named in my honor?

Probably Mrs. Moon was upset with her too because she flatly refused to answer her question. She was also hungry. She was also mad at Kasumi for not trying a little more.

“Are you telling me that because you want me to give you the last stardust cookie?” she asked.

“Will you?”

Kasumi rolled her eyes in fake annoyance and handed him the last cookie. Evander almost snatched it from her hands. He went back to his drawing as he chewed it happily, moving to the beat of a song inside his head.

Imaginary music. Imaginary food.

Was he imaginary?

Am I imaginary?

She toyed with his red locks and realized she left traces of blue chalk in his hair. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled.

Evander turned to see her, confused. “Why?”

Kasumi wanted to answer that she was sorry she had messed his hair.

But actually, she was sorry for everything.