#golden pear soap

[mistydeyes]

perfumes i think the 141 boys enjoy

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summary: Scent is one of the most powerful senses, so what kind of fragrance do the 141 boys + Alejandro like on their significant other?

pairing: 141 x Reader

warnings: none

a/n - i also work for a perfume company so I've had a couple of ideas about what scents the boys like :)

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price - loves expensive, smokey scents on anyone. imagine the scents of a fresh cigar-that's what price wants in a fragrance. notes like pepper, leather, tobacco, cedar wood, and iris will make him crumble.

masculine

oud wood - tom ford notes: oud wood, sandalwood, chinese pepper

osmanthe kodoshan - maison crivelli notes: leather, tobacco, sichuan pepper, apricot, peach

functional fragrance - the nue co. notes: cardamom, iris, palo santo, cilantro

unisex

hinoki fantôme - boy smells notes: tobacco leaves, oak moss, and smoked leather

jazz club - maison marigela notes: pink pepper, rum, tobacco

lumière d’iris - veronique gabai notes: rose, iris, cedarwood, amber

feminine

baccarat rouge 540 - maison francis kurkdjia notes: jasmine, ambergris, saffron, cedar wood

cuir béluga - guerlain notes: leather, powder, vanilla

platinum 22 - floris london notes: rose, violet leaf, blackcurrant, oat, black tea

soap - woodsy, floral scents are soap's surprising pick. it brings back memories of the scottish countryside, adventuring in the woods and smelling the fresh flowers his mam had. notice notes of herbs (sage, rosemary, mint), lavender, and violet.

masculine

sauvage - dior notes: pepper, amberwood, bergamot, powder

h24 - hermès notes: clary sage, narcissus, rosewood

new york wall street - bond no.9 notes: sea kale, cucumber, lavender, ambergris, vetiver

unisex

voodoo chile - dries van noten notes: rosemary, patchouli, hemp

libre - yves saint laurent notes: lavender, musk

dirty grass - heretic notes: black pepper, lemon, hemp, violet

feminine

melancholy thistle - jo malone london notes: thistle, english ivy, cool wood

portrait of a lady - frédéric malle notes: frankincense, black currant, raspberry, patchouli

la tulipe - byredo notes: tulips, cyclamen, fressia, rhubarb

gaz - FLORAL CITRUS will make this man fall in love with you. it reminds him of a warm summer day sitting in the grass and smelling flowers. look for summery fragrances with notes of citrus, lemon, sage, and fresh herbs.

masculine

bleu de chanel - chanel notes: citrus, labdanum, sandalwood, cedar

polo black - ralph lauren notes: iced mango, lemon, tangerine, sandalwood, sage, patchouli

l'homme - yves saint laurent notes: bergamot, ginger, cedar wood, vetiver

unisex

cactus garden - louis vuitton notes: maté, bergamot, lemongrass

velvet cypress - dolce & gabbana notes: pine, lemon zest, bergamot, clary sage

eau de campagne - sisley notes: grass, citrus, herbs, jasmine, lily of the valley

feminine

brazilian crush cheirosa 62 - sol de janeiro notes: pistachio, almond, sandalwood, heliotrope, jasmine

her blossom - burberry notes: mandarin, plum blossom, sandalwood

flora gorgeous jasmine - gucci notes: mandarin, jasmine, magnolia, sandalwood

ghost - likes a light, musky scent! he loves when a scent adds to a person's natural smell (he hates sugary, gourmand scents). ingredients like musk, ambrox, pepper, sandalwood catch his eye as he pictures fresh sheets and a rainfall in a forest.

masculine

geranium pour monsieur - frédéric malle notes: mint, aniseed, sandalwood, geranium, frankincense

atlantis - blu atlas notes: orris, oak moss, violet, musk, ambrette seed

gentleman - givenchy notes: pear, lavender, patchouli

unisex

glossier you - glossier notes: pink pepper, iris, ambrette seeds, ambrox

not a perfume - juliette has a gun notes: ambergris

santal 33 - le labo notes: violet cardamom, cedar wood, iris, ambrox

feminine

missing person - phlur notes: musk, bergamot, jasmine, neroli, sandalwood

golden nectar - nest notes: florals, orchid, amber, musk

apollonia - xerjoff notes: white floral, orris butter, white musk

extra! alejandro - if ghost likes it simple and light, then alejandro is the exact opposite. he loves when he can smell someone's fragrance across the room. focus on bold fragrances with spicy notes of nutmeg, myrrh, and rum that is mixed with the gourmand of vanilla, almond, and tonka bean.

masculine

the last day of summer - gucci notes: cedarwood, cypress, nutmeg, patchouli, vetiver

bibliothèque - byredo notes: peach, peony, violet, leather, patchouli, vanilla

london myrrh & tonka - jo malone notes: almond, vanilla, myrrh, lavender, honey

unisex

tobacco vanille - tom ford notes: tonka bean, vanilla. cacao

dark rum - malin + goetz notes: anise, plum, leather, rum, patchouli, amber

tao dao - diptyque notes: sandalwood, cedar, cypress, myrte

feminine

lost cherry - tom ford notes: black cherry, tonka bean, almond

brazil aroma - costa notes: white jungle flora, orange oil, pink pepper, bourbon, vetiver, patchouli

babylon - penhaligon's notes: saffron, nutmeg, coriander, cedar wood, vanilla, cypriol

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[biorust-art]

Thinking about making an Orym themed cold process soap

China Rain: Top notes are fresh rose petals, Middle notes are wisteria and cyclamen, base is sandalwood and vanilla.

Japanese Cherry Blossom is like the bath and bodyworks fragrance, with Cherry blossoms and mimosa flower petals with a warm base of vanilla tonka bean and oriental woods.

Flowering Dogwood: Top notes are fresh air, bergamot, and pear. Mid notes are dogwood blossoms, cyclamen, jasmin and plumeria. Base notes are violet, lily, gardenia, musk and sandalwood.

Amber waters: Top notes of pink grapefruit, Italian bergamot, red berries. Mid noes of white lilies, lavender, marine accord. base notes of golden amber, patchouli, guaiac wood.

(all scents from Nature's Garden)

The current design for orym's soap is fairly simple:

[Image Description: a rectangle of a soap mock-up. The bottom is brown with a mica line and the top is a drop swirl white and green. End ID]

bc of this I want the fragrance to really speak up! So I'm having a hard time deciding.

[nosydogsoaps]

✨🍐🍸SPARKLING PEAR COCKTAIL (holiday soap!!) Golden notes of fragrant pear, simple syrup, and dry bubbly swirled with cashmere musk to create the perfect sophisticated winter cocktail.

.

this is my first time trying to make a cure lil fruit shape in a soap like this. >:3 i'm vvvery happy with how it turned out!

[feytouched]

hi! could you recommend me an accessible perfume with mysterious fairy vibes please? something fresh and gauzy and sweet but not cloying and would remind you of a crisp and probably a slightly chilly spring day ? hope that's not too specific a description. I've been looking but haven't found anything I like yet but I like how you review perfumes so I thought I'd ask. thanks!

so what qualifies as affordable to you vs to me can depend highly... like i'm in the EU so anything from niche perfumers in the US entails a high shipping fee + customs tax but if you're in the US i'd say those are pretty good deals. and idk how much of your disposable income you wanna dedicate to perfumes either / what brands are sold in stores near you etc

but anyway putting that aside here are some recs

alkemia silver sky -  "rainwater musk, oceanic grey amber, muget, daffodil, silver needle tea, galbanum, and white cedar" androgynous, translucent, cucumbery, watery-floral

alkemia lilacs along the winding drive - "lilac bushes heavy and purple with blooms, a gentle breeze after light spring rain, a dusty pebbled driveway, a slightly rusty porch swing, and a small handful of late blooming violets." mostly lilac tbh but a nice springtime floral

bpal sjöfn - "apples and birch bound with apple blossoms" golden (not red) apples and a medical green sharpness. juicy and revitalizing, def not cloying

bpal juliet - "sweet pea with stargazer lily, calla lily, heliotrope, honeysuckle, white musk and a touch of fresh pear." - ethereal floral, very rounded sweetness to it. reminds me of floral soap. clean and prim. pear and sweet pea and honeysuckle-forward.

bpal moscow - "a rich, bold blend of imperial rose, carnation, lush jasmine, lily of the valley, dark musk, amber, bergamot and gilded tangerine." more majestic floral than juliet, still soapy clean but more complex and cold floral notes rather than fruity sweetness.

bpal titania - "fae dew-kissed petals and pale fruits: white grape, white peach, iced pear, musk rose, sweet pea, moonflower and snapdragon." very on theme for fairy vibes, definitely a sweet crisp fruity floral, also rather clean (kinda reminds me of herbal essence shampoos back in the day idk). very pretty

all of these are like 20-30 bucks apiece and believe me 5ml of perfume oil lasts forever. i don't really have any mainstream recs i've tried under like 50 bucks but i'd look for pear, violet, freesia, lilac, tea, bergamot, oakmoss, white musk kinda notes. best of luck!

[shopvivaan]

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[lyubochka]

soft asks by cullenedward

i treat ask games like surveys.

cherry - what is your sexuality?

gay. i'm a gay man

lollipop - favorite makeup products?

i like the aesthetic of flower knows, but the products aren't exactly special in any regard of quality. i'm a sucker for colourpop. their blacks are just so... creamy.

daydreams - if you could be anything or anyone, who would you be?

joey jordison in 2000.

october - what month were you born in?

july. my birthday is on the 26th. you should send me a gift <3

caress - do you like to snuggle?

for certain amounts of time with certain people. generally i'm pretty easily overwhelmed when it comes to touch and don't seek it out.

ivory - describe your pajamas?

i don't wear them.

golden - favorite stationary product?

i like a nice glide on a black pen. but i also like cute stickers and tape. if it counts, i collect greeting cards i'm sent.

freckles - most-worn article of clothing?

probably my old t-shirts from high school functions, covered in hair dye stains.

twilight - best friend?

@killmsamerica

silk - do you like k-pop?

i don't have anything against it, but i don't exactly care for it.

poppy - favorite pastel color?

green. shades like this:

dimples - most attractive features of a person’s face?

eyes are the obvious choice, but an interesting nose shape, long lashes, or unique scarring/coloration is captivating me lately.

sunkissed - autumn or spring?

autumn.

buttery - favorite snack?

i like almonds, and i like chocolate, and i like dried fruits. so trail mix is the obvious choice, but i don't actually eat it all that much.

whisper - how much sleep do you get?

i'm used to getting at least 7 hours, but i've had a bout of insomnia lately, so i've been getting 4 hours on average.

pencil - do you own a journal?

a few, yeah. the one i use the most isn't physical, though.

cupcake - are you a good cook?

i'm an alright cook. the food i make is better than edible, but i wouldn't say i go out of my way to learn complex or new recipes. i can take care of myself and my housemates don't get sick of my cooking. i've never gotten any complaints.

honey - favorite term of endearment?

babe/y(boy), boy (just alone), precious, beloved, love/r

clouds - describe one of your favorite dreams?

all of the dreams i've had more than once aren't pleasant to consider in my myspace top 4

velvet - who was your first crush?

gary oak from the pokemon anime?

paper - favorite children’s book?

stella luna. i used to go by that name before i transitioned. i think i'd name a rat that, nowadays.

peaches - do you have a skincare routine?

i used to have a more extensive one, but i find simplicity is really king. now that its as desperately hot as it is, it's really cut down to just washing my face with antibacterial soap (yes u heard that right). i use a cerave moisturizer (not the kind in the bottle, the kind in the jar).

mochi - favorite studio ghibli film?

i don't watch them, really.

backyard - did you ever have an imaginary friend?

a few. they turned out to be alters or hallucinations BAHAHA

strawberry - favorite fruit?

strawberries, peaches, pears, pineapple. oh my.

kiss - have you ever kissed a friend?,

yes. kisses are gross, i've found.

nightlight - do you read before bed?

no, but i tried at some point to see if it'd help the insomnia. not really, no difference, i've found.

shampoo - favorite scent?

i'm a fragrance slut, so this question is the best way to get me to prattle on for a while. i love the smell of white florals such as lillies, jasmine, frangipani, meadowsweet, and honeysuckle. when it comes to rose, i prefer a rose oil smell over the flower itself, but its still nice on the whole. i enjoy herbals and incenses like clove, patchouli, myrrh, and frankincense. i recently got a perfume that smells like nag champa and flowering cannabis, and its much nicer than it sounds. i love leather smells, gasoline, motor oil, and industrial plastic scents. but most of all i love earthy and green scents, such as concrete, stone, dirt, and petrichor. a good overturned soil scent literally makes my mouth water.

my favorite perfumes are chanel no 5, moss maiden by alkemia, saint louis cemetery no 1 by alkemia, flora gardenia by gucci, and gold rush by paris hilton (the odd one out). among many many more.

skin - what distant relative are you closest to?

my great aunt.

aphrodite - favorite actress/actor?

clara bow and james spader.

cuddles - do you have any pets?

yes, i have a brown tabby named sushi.

lace - if you own any dresses, which is your favorite?

a tiny black number that barely reaches past my pantyline.

sheets - sanrio or san-x characters?

sanrio. i love keroppi and deery lou.

cream - frozen yogurt flavor?

i don't have a good relationship with froyo. we're not on speaking terms. once during a vacation, all the quick service venues were closed except for a froyo place, so it's all i ate for two days straight.

watermelon - do films ever make you cry?

yes, almost every time.

sapphos - favorite poet?

ocean vuong.

plush - how many stuffed animals do you still own?

too many to count.

roses - what flower do you find most beautiful?

lillies.

sweetheart - favorite mug/cup?

i have a mug shaped like a ducks head that i love.

sunset - what are your pronouns?

he/him.

[lushlove4ever]

Also love this soap! The one I received from an online order didn’t have much glitter on the outside so obviously I will have to buy one more before the holiday products leave us 🤩

[vanillamoonsoap]

#Golden #Pear #Soap #VanillaMoon #leaves #sparkle #fresh #gold #leaf #pears #coconutoil #honey #washyourhands To order please visit website in bio, thank you! 🍂🍐 https://www.instagram.com/p/CGQRYOYgz60/?igshid=ycqq3lki5aqx

[lemonietrinket]

Aster ||| Jaehyun x Reader

Summary: Just soft times in bed with a very shirtless jaehyun Genre: Fluff with some mildly heated elements its shirtless jaehyun what did you expect  Warning(s): Mentions of a splinter? None. Word Count: 1098 Theme Song: Truly - Cigarettes After Sex; Wake Me Up - Taeyang; Heavenly - Cigarettes After Sex AN: Prompt from @idontknowapil; aster not only symbolises love, but also represents daintiness, contentment, and unpredictability

~~~

You awoke not with a jolt, but rather a long, drawn out haze, as the lights dawned upon you, like your own personal sunrise. 

Your eyes opened gradually, blinking as you stared beyond the smooth lilac pillow. Aster pink lights glimmer along the walls, conscientious almost in their lights as they kindly let you awake at your own pace.

Tucked into the corner of the bed, your knees had crept up to cradle your warmth while you had slept peacefully. You had fallen asleep warm enough without a blanket, and you remembered being held as you drifted off.

Slipping your hand back, trailing across the vast, abandoned space of a bed that wasn’t your own, you found no sign of the man who had held you against his chest earlier that night...

Or was it day?

Time was soup as you rolled over onto your back, fiddling with the blanket that had been drawn up to your uncovered shoulders while you were lost in dreams.

That’s right, you could remember now, somewhat. The afternoon sun gleaming down onto your backs as you skipped down the golden sands of the beach, Jaehyun not too far behind, laughing freely as you went.  It wasn’t often he got a vacation; you hoped that he felt the day had been worth it.

You’d come back after the sun sank below the horizon, which you’d watched from the cool-kissed wooden bench that he’d gotten a splinter from. Not that he seemed that worried about it. You had been much more concerned, and so he decided that it was a cue to call things a day. 

And so you headed back to the hotel, where he was able to remove the offending shard of wood, and immediately collapsed into his arms on the bed.

You fit perfectly against him, spooning and making no use of the vast sea of the bed. And that’s where you’d fallen asleep, to the hush of his voice, so deep and velvet that he caught your breath by only uttering a single word.

And now here you were, staring at the painted swirls on the ceiling, petals of shadows dancing in the glow of the fairy lights, alone.

Though not really, you knew that much. Gentle music lilted over the speaker across the room, warm like sunlight that would stream between your curtains back home in summer. 

It was familiar to you, not that you could be certain as to where you heard the song from prior to now. Was it from the car journey? The bar from yesterday? Perhaps, but not quite. It seemed much further away than that. And yet so much closer.

Caught in your own thoughts, you hadn’t heard the door open, nor the footsteps that followed. In fact, you barely caught the weight gently settling on the bottom of the bed. If it hadn’t been for that oceanic voice that whispered your name, you would have missed his arrival perhaps entirely. 

Your eyes flickered down just as his smile appeared above the arch of the blanket. How handsome he was, no matter if it was dark, as his dimples decorated his cheeks and he leant in to kiss your hair.

A small laugh left your lips as you greeted him with nothing but a breath—a miracle he had gotten used to, often taking your words away, without even realising and definitely not intending to. 

He pulled down your blanket, leaving your bare skin to shiver in the coolness of the room. It was necessary for what he wished to do, otherwise you would at the very least overheat; and more importantly, you wanted to feel every inch of his body against your own, a feat you could never complete as much as you wanted to, but one that would definitely not be possible with a blanket between your heart and his.

As he tugged the corner away, you were gifted with the unexpected present of his bare chest, silk smooth and unhindered by a shirt of any kind.

He had come straight from the shower, the fragrance of pears surrounding you as he ducked his head into your neck, planting his lips below your ear—hot and soothing.

“Did... did you use my soap?”

He slipped his legs between your own, grazing his nose across your jaw until your eyes were level. His were filled with a mischievous glint, echoing his beautiful smirk. “Oops.”

You giggled. “I don’t mind. You smell good.”

“Of course I do, I smell of you.” He rolled his eyes, sinking in to kiss you again, this time just to the side of your lips—the tender silk so close to where you wanted him.

His toned abdomen fell flush against your stomach as he settled, the curl of his hair tickling your neck as he rested his cheek upon your chest. He felt so firm against you, a sanctuary against the emptiness of the rest of the world.

Your hand found his as it trailed up your arm, so gentle it was almost teasing. Your fingers laced as you let your others thread through his brown locks. They were freshly cold, left dishevelled by a towel, and free for you to gently ease between the pads of your fingertips.

He sighed, long and low, as if your touch alone had eased out a thousand burdens that he carried. 

“You ok, baby?” you murmured, running the side of your fingers past his ear, a place you knew he loved well. 

“I am now,” he hummed, the melody flowing through to your core, “it’s just us.”

You couldn’t deny that. The presence of others, as much as you loved your friends and the sounds of joyous strangers, enjoying the rivets of sun and the kissed ocean, was never what you truly wanted deep at heart. All you wanted was the touch of Jaehyun, his caress and his embrace and his kiss.

Gazing down, you could see the blossom of the fairy lights imbued the aster pink of cheeks with an even gentler hue. 

He caught you staring however, and with a roguish smile that you’d fallen in love with the very first time he’d shown it to you, he reached up to let his plump lips meet yours as you wanted.

Spirals of electricity shot through your veins at the intimacy of his touch, gentle yet needy, as he kissed you deeply, your fingers laced with the tresses of his  hair to pull him even closer.

He knew exactly how to steal your breath away, and maybe sometimes he genuinely did intend to.

~~~

AN: ok so I feel like the ending could have been better but I didnt know what else to include

I’ll probably edit it later at some point

Masterlist

[neillien]

Sunday dress

“Unpick that promise with your teeth, it’s obscene…”

By then he’d grown to be the most beautiful child and when he was twelve-years old

he was locked far from home in a tower.

Among the few possessions there he found a stringless guitar and a cigar box containing a long and very wonderful hairpiece plaited like golden rope.

the unhappy boy intended to commit suicide but found instead a means of escape.

. . .

In the mirror, the dominator becomes their own executioner

mirror, mirror mon amour …

“You are not to play with that boy anymore… .” Jacqueline’s Mother she raised her voice not knowing the boyfriend in question stood down the hall, out on the doorstep - waiting for Jaqueline, and overheard her disapproval. “He’s peculiar - back-out.” The boy he turned and walked away but is stood still feeling humiliated at the door remembering the house where Jaqueline lived as an obedient daughter. The boy, because he wants to spare Jacqueline of the impasse the mother prevails on her, he thinks, I must become invisible now. It doesn’t matter if his consideration is overlooked! When Jacqueline returns to the door to let her playmate down, she’ll find him gone. Taken by surprise, perhaps Jaqueline will think ‘oh! He’s peculiar’ just as the mother has taught the daughter to believe.

Jaqueline never once spoke again to the boy.

. . .

wallpaper

Up the staircase back into the tower . . . boy hesitates by the narrow window. The panorama from his spartan cell is as indistinguishable as yesterday’s panorama - this places an incorruptible chill on the boy's enfeebled heart. Exile is seriously miserable business.

Susurrating paper wreaths endlessly whispering in the drafts of the stairwell,

occasional burst of melody from the useless guitar

confusion is a delicate dance; boy believes at night that he hears lightening footsteps walk through his spine and burst out the opponent. It was a sinister place, fully alive yet sepulchral.

All the travailing ghosts celebrating their wins. Whilst boy himself struggles with their distorted consciousnesses.

Caught in the throes of a votive.

Mesmeric music of fire by immolating guitar

These penitent hours, did not match those broken words

burning from the inside

a bird made of blood made of fire.

[An unrecognised] adolescence convinces the boy he nears the next opportunity.

A few years further but hope is at hand.

Spiderlings crawling over boys changing body

frost-ferns are melting now it is spring.

Dusk, as a ruby sun set.

Pale and diaphanous and elegant, a structure of extravagant quiet. Boy takes to his character like a thespian delighting in her role as principle boy - a role traditionally reserved for a girl.

Climbing the walls … burning from the inside, smoke-like coils of rusted razor-wire scratch the black and stony hills - the tar-colour wallpaper can only have been painted by whatever delinquency the boy allows the maniac to describe from his cell.

The votive heart wakes-up and smells heritage blood.

Mandarin rind

Rosemary leaf

The prescribed mind no longer distorted, sits and takes notice of the stertorous breath and churlish laughter of a raptor circling overhead.

He screams!

Rapunzel – climbdown your rope of hair.

. . .

goodbye my love

residual

all but a carcass looking indolent where it sat.

Such was its depth of despondency.

it hadn’t the warmth of blood, needed.

. . .

trouble house

Instead of love small figurines, boxes within boxes.

a hard blow from behind then he fell down unconscious

dreamed himself

purpling,

earth eaten – omitting a sordid squalor smell

not handsome

nobody sees immorality when the curtains are drawn.

It’s shameful, the way they carry on up here!

Then he removed his trousers, and I knew he knew how love is between boys.

. . .

wastewater

you’re not allowed to bathe by yourself, so I have to get in the bathtub with you.

the decision is a bit ridiculous because we both know you are more than capable of washing yourself.

In hindsight, we should have been suspicious! But at the time our youthful states of credulity, allows us to just get on with it - albeit done with twists of tension.

They’ve told you my name is Sunday that I’m foreign.

I lather a bar of Palmolive soap and whisper, ‘sac de merde…’

You smile and it’s a relief to see you put at ease. ‘You’re not a girl, I expected a girl.’

Expected, or wanted? This needed to be confirmed.

He just points a at my penis and smiles: ‘I’ve got one of those. Let me show you.’

He stood up in the bathtub; an erotic tsunami of soap suds and water slid from his body

and I knew he knew how love would be between us.

'See, I come custom-made for boys.' He laughs.

'All the girls here are daft as brushes... have you noticed how their heads are full of horse teeth and hairs made of silk? Not to mention the two pear-halves excuses for tits! Why they think they need brassieres...'

'Yes, I said. I disguised myself out of love for you - none of their ribbons and curls. These are my genital decorations....' I stroke myself till the veins in my cock turn purple. 'I have no doubts about us, I whisper, now we’re adulterous.'

'Oh, but I got worse since I knew how to love. He sounds as honest I suppose as

a sparrow fluttering in the cat’s mouth! Perhaps he has purpose to sing, perhaps he pretends he’s the one who kills the bird to put himself in its place – it may be he was trying to describe to me how unique transformative love is, and I was too absent minded?

he wouldn’t need showing at all

the boy turned himself into a Pike and slithered from my fingers, slippery as a bar of lathered Palmolive. It was frightful to be cheated.

‘the first time always is a disappointment ….’ Consoled the dorm girls thereafter. I look at them and despair. I look at myself and smash the mirror. 'Here you are Jaqueline...,' I call to the mouse in the corner. You can borrow this conditioner, your hair has split ends like ladders.'

[yandereposts]

The signs as things I have in my pantry

Aries: March 21 - April 19

Juicy and ripe, mango's are just amazingly sweet! An absolute favourite, loved by many and certainly by me. Plain, in a salad or smoothie, spiced with a bit of fresh hot red pepper, absolutely versatile. Mango just makes me happy. 

Taurus: April 20 - May 20

Onions, what do you do without them? Absolutely underrated, as it is the basis of every good meal. Sometimes the meal itself like French onion soup! That dish just comforts me massively. Sharp like red onion in salad or spring onions on ramen, warm, sweet and comforting when caramelized in a pan or oven- a meal is not complete without onions! And most importantly, let’s not forget: Onions have layers.

Gemini: May 21 - June 20

Ground cinnamon is fine. Fresh cinnamon sticks? Oh! Just the warmest smell and flavour! Essential for so many sweet and savory dishes. I also like to make tea of it, sometimes paired with ginger, cozy with a blanket on the couch and a book... Or in cookies, cakes, in my stewed pears or apple sauce! When I’m sad I sometimes just take one and smell it, and I feel better about the world instantly!

Cancer: June 21 - July 22

Potato? No. Sweet potato! Okay, to be fair, the one on the photograph has already been boiled, but! Sweet. Potato!? Boil ‘em, mash ‘em, stick ‘em in a stew or even better, fries! Sweet potato fries with smoked paprika and salt, a little bit of mayonaise. I even made a sweet potato pie once, because back in the day pumpkins were hard to get. Was it good though? Well, I think I ate the whole pie. Anyway. Potato? Sweet potato. Love!

Leo: July 23 - August 22

Cassava! Manihot esculenta. I never had it, so that’s why I bought it! Really excited to make something of this as I have so much inspiration! I partly got that by watching “The Island with Bear Grylls”. Amazing concept, really love that show, want to be on there one day or in a similar setting (with life-lines, preferably, haha). Just so back to basics and survival... Yeah, raw and real! I know you will die if you eat this boi raw. Won’t stop me from being really excited!

Virgo: August 23 - September 22

Apples are humble, and so are raisins. Such a power couple though! Together in cakes and pies, but also in curry and in epic apple sauce. Both apples and raisins deserve more love and respect, you feel me? 

Libra: September 23 - October 22

This is one confusing boi. I never prepared it before! That may not be the most difficult part, boiling it, but the name? Rutabaga? Don’t be fooled, this is a big big boi and really not a swede! I am excited. I love the colour of the skin (such a gorgeous purple!) and trying new things is what I love. A turnip may not be hip, but I think this is a rutabaga and that means #NoDrama. That was a very forced rhyme, haha ^^

Scorpio: October 23 - November 21

I love mushrooms! I eat them every week because they’re so beautiful, affordable, healthy and super delicious! I love them so much, I actually grow my own shiitake. On toast with a little onion and parsley or thyme, in a ragout, stir fry, filled with something delicious, I could go on and on! Very unique to the other things on this list, too, as it is not a plant. Cool stuff, very epic cool stuff!

Sagittarius: November 22 - December 21

That perfect citrus zing from a lemon is just what I crave so very often! I am not that crazy that I eat a whole lemon for fun, but as finishing touch it’s essential for a lot of my cooking and drinks. In the winter it helps me think of summer and brings me a little happiness in dark days. 

Capricorn: December 22 - January 19

Chestnuts are so so beautiful and underappreciated! I just love them roasted with Brussel sprouts, mashed potatoes and smoked almonds. I love to gather them myself because it is just so satisfying to find food in nature. (Be careful and responsible when doing this, not every species is edible!) I used to gather the inedible kind to make spiders with them by sticking sticks in them and connecting them together. Back then I didn’t know you could eat these too. An eye-opener for sure!

Aquarius: January 20 - February 18

Fresh turmeric is not common where I’m from, but delicious and really worth the search? Yes! While I’m still experimenting, a few things I’ve already tried. Curry paste, golden milk, and I will likely dry it to make real good A+ powder instead of the powder in the store that kinda tastes like, erm, soap.

Pisces: February 19 - March 20

Not to be corny, but can we take a moment to appreciate corn? Especially the popping kind that is just so satisfying to make and eat? Oh, I just love it with a bit of salt and rosemary, or with caramel to make something I call “snowballs”. Burned my hands a few times doing that, but it is no match for my burning passion for this affordable, healthy-ish snack!

[pseudofaux]

Ranmaru's LUSH picks for himself and Kennyo and how Kennyo reacts >u> alternately, if you'd rather, best LUSH products for each guy

NYK YOU GD NEXT-LEVEL GENIUS!!!!! FUCK I love this so much!

Ranmaru for Ranmaru: Snow Fairy body spray (because he IS one, and extremely hard to pin down, and I think would love mists over gels).

Ranmaru for Master Kennyo: Wiccy Magic Muscles massage bar. The scent is almost medicinal, so barely an indulgence. And Kennyo NEEDS a damn massage/to be made to be still and indulge for more than a moment. Also v. portable, so he could take it with him when traveling and use on his own limbs, which would make Ranmaru feel better.

Kennyo reacts by gently lecturing on indulgence anyway. Ends up taking it and brushing his fingers against it in his bag every day but not using it unless it falls out. Enjoys it so much he feels penitent. 😩💜 Inclined to give it away but stops himself at the last minute.

[What Ranmaru WANTS to get for Master Kennyo: Golden Pear soap, a rich-smelling luxury made in reverence to the natural world.]

[danielriddlerodriguez]

WHAT IS ENDLESS, WHAT IS GOLD —Noor Hindi I am throwing a net at the sun. I am collecting sunshine. The sun wears an evil eye. It shines it in my face. At Home Depot, I steal all their yellow. Golden Cricket. Vanilla Milkshake. Upbeat. Corn Stalk. I eat catalogs of paint samples. Summer Bliss. Neon Light. Fuzzy Duckling. My mother holds a dish sponge in her hand. Soap suds in her eyes. When I say yellow, I mean death. When I say death, I mean to tell you about the pears. Unripe and yellow. We used to throw them at the sky. Watch them rotate in a cloud. As a child, I couldn’t stop drawing the sun. Crayola, Crayola. Where are you now? Then they took the sun from me. Daffodil. Beehive. Filtered Moon. And Sweet. Remember the band director chasing us with our instruments? Oh trombones. Oh bumblebees. We made blueberries with our lemons. We made bowties out of chokeholds. My mother wore too much perfume. Oh yellow liquid. Sometimes I suffocated. And the grass was so yellow. And the memories so sharp we stuck them between our teeth. Like toothpicks. Like streetlights. Like the eggplants my mother would fry. Sprinkle salt on their bitter. June Day. Golden Rae. Saffron Strands. English Custard Paint. What I remember makes me tank. Makes me yellow, not blue. Makes me hazard. When I say yellow, I mean yarrow. Maybe yay. Maybe fly. When I say yellow, I mean hope. I mean light. As in, keep moving. Open your arms. Stitch a net with me, my loves. Together, we’ll catch the sun. I bet it tastes so sweet.

[vanillamoonsoap]

#Golden #Pear #Soap www.VanillaMoonSoap.com #pears #honey #gold #leaves #shimmer #coconutoil

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Temporary Ideal (Part 1)

The Beach FanFic (Leonardo DiCaprio) - Written decades ago. (uff!) Can find in entirety on Wattpad. May add additional parts if it ever gets some likes/reblogs.

~~~~~

The shade from the palm made the dampness of the air around me more palpable.  I could feel the condensation on my arms, face and lips.  I shivered in the early dawn, waiting for him.  Waiting and thinking.  This spot, near Bugs’ bridge, was the unofficial entrance to the village. It was where I had laid eyes on him for the first time.  I remembered it clearly, like it was yesterday.  Recalling that moment, surrounded by the soft rays of a new day, it was hard to believe it had been six months since the “Three Musketeers” had backpacked into our community.

~~~~~

It happened right after Vera had thrown me the last of the bed sheets.  I had taken the worn nub of the last remains of Unhygenix’s homemade soap, and rubbed it lazily against the sheet draped over the granite slab.  I hated laundry duty.  Even though Vera moaned and groaned when we had the garden shift, I would gladly trade in my pruned fingers for dirt strewn ones.  There was the quiet that was only disrupted by the buzz of an insect or the occasional tears of dead leaves. The hope experienced planting seeds for the new crop. Picking the ripe fruit and sneaking a taste of one, delicious pear before the rest of the community.  My innate green thumb surprised me.  I wouldn’t have looked twice at a cornfield or row of tomato plants in my “other” life. Here, though, things were different.

“Oh… my… God!”  Vera’s faux valley girl inflection had taken over for a moment.  Alarmed, I froze, staring down at the water flowing past my bare thighs.  The last time Vera had voiced that exclamation while doing the wash had been when she had a spotted eel wrapped around her calf.  We never were sure if the eel was very friendly, very horny or very tired of intruders in that particular spot of the lagoon.  She had grabbed that sucker and smashed it against a rock like a bullwhip.  Poor thing never knew what hit him, or her, or it.  I made a mental note never to sneak up on Vera after that.

“What?”  My focus shifted to Vera’s line of sight, which hadn’t been the water.  My mouth opened slightly, feeling the dryness that had suddenly appeared.  I’m sure everyone in the community had the same feeling at that moment.  There they were, walking over the bridge, entering our territory.  Keaty led the way.  His tour of duty by the waterfall had turned out to be the most eventful one in two years.

“Three.”  Vera waded toward the bridge.  My mind had quickly processed the total.  My attention was all on the person following six steps behind Keaty.  I could tell immediately that he was American.  I’m not sure what gave him away first, but the quick nod of recognition he gave Vera solidified it.

American.  Even though I felt fear and uncertainty at their presence, I still smiled.  There was another one of us.  Four now.  And there was another reason I was smiling.  That flight of butterflies that had remained dormant in my stomach for what now seemed like an eternity, was performing aerials I couldn’t remember ever experiencing.  It may have just boiled down to the fact that there was new meat.  Available meat.  It was obvious, the solitary way he strode ahead of the other man and woman, that he was alone.

He was tan, lean and long.  Everything about him screamed California boy, kissed by the sun from his golden-brown strands to the shine of his skin.  He tightly gripped the end of what looked like a trash bag over his right shoulder, eyes darting this way and that, taking in the entirety of the environment.  He passed over me as quickly as he had everyone else.  I was too far away to make out the color of his eyes, but his stare was intense enough for me to feel he meant business.  They hadn’t just stumbled across our paradise.  This had been a quest.  And I was pretty sure he was the one who had been in charge for most of it.

Vera looked over to me after they had passed.  “Let’s hurry this shit up and get our asses back to the longhouse.  I don’t want to miss Sal’s face when she sees this.”  I nodded in agreement, and then shook my head at the thought of Sal’s expression. I hoped I would be able to get some prime seating.

~~~~~ 

We slipped in after the impromptu “family meeting” had already taken place.

Sophie stood in the darkened corner and motioned quickly to both of us as soon as we came in.  We huddled together for catch up.

“They have a map.”  Sophie nodded her head toward the middle of the longhouse, where the majority now congregated.  Sal was in full mother-hen mode.  I spotted the paper in her hand.

“To the beach?”  Vera asked and Sophie nodded.  My eyes canvassed the area.  I saw the back of blonde boy.  “Who are they?”  Vera questioned again.

“The couple is French.”  I looked over at Sophie in time to see a slight smile.  It would be an addition to the already large French line.  “Etienne and Francoise.  The other one is Richard.  An American.”

Richard.  I let the name dance in my head a few times, unable to hide the vindication that my guess to his nationality had been correct.  I didn’t need to hear any more from Sophie.  I walked around the circle, just outside the radar of being noticed.  Blending into the background had always been my best skill and too much was going on for anyone to pay attention to me anyway.  They were all fixated on the visitors.  I could spot rage on some faces, fear on others.  But Sal would not let these new arrivals leave.  I had known her long enough to realize that fact.

I sat on my bunk thankful Richard was on the exact opposite end.  My legs crossed.  I could hear the buzz of conversation around me.  All of my senses besides sight had dulled, been drowned out, by the activity occupying me.  Taking in every aspect of this man was now top priority.  Boyishness graced his face, but the dominance of the man emerging was putting up a fierce battle with that appearance.  In his 20s definitely, but as to which end of the scale he tipped closer to was still up in the air.  The beauty and symmetry of his face elicited one word into my mind.  Perfect.  The shadows of late afternoon, however, didn’t allow a peek at his eye color.  The somber, stuffy atmosphere of the hut matched the mood of its inhabitants.

My hearing tuned in at the sound of his voice, answering a question from Sal.  I let the pitch and tone of his words flow inside.  Even his words felt right to my ears.  “It was on my hotel door one morning.  I’d had this weird conversation with a guy staying next door to me the night before.  He kept talking about this beach.  So when I found the map, I figured it was from him.  The guy who drew it…”

“Daffy.”  Sal finished his sentence for him.  The name jarred memories and haunting images of the rift that formed right before Daffy had left the island.  The friction between Daffy, Sal and Bugs had become unbearable.  I wanted to ask about Daffy, but the question only screamed inside my mind.  There would be no disruptions while class was in session, at least not from the well-behaved students.

“Yeah, he’s dead.”  My mouth dropped open, hearing that cold, factual sentence from Richard.  That sentence did not come from one who had spent countless nights listening to Daffy’s stories around the fire.  Not one who had ventured back with him to the mainland at least a dozen times for rice runs.  And not one who had seen the love for something pure turn into an obsession to protect it.  I tried to let the realization of Daffy’s death sink in, but I knew it would take forever to finalize it.  I saw the whispers and stunned expressions take over the group.

Someone, I think Dale, exclaimed, “No way!”

Richard continued.  “Yeah, he cut his wrists open in a hotel room on the Ko Sahn Road.”

Gregorio stared in horror at Richard.  “You have seen this?”

“Well, I came afterwards.”  There was no easy way to break this kind of news to a family.  It was like a police officer knocking at a son’s door in the middle of the night to tell him his parents had been killed in a car accident.  Empathy is a hard feeling to fake.  You just don’t know until you have been there.  I guessed Richard had yet to experience a close death. 

“Well, that’s sad news.  He was one of the founders of our community.”  I spotted Vera, still in the corner with Sophie, listening to Sal.  I hoped she had sense enough to hold her tongue.

“Oh.”  Richard nodded his head slightly.

“But he became depressed.”  There had been a clearing of the throat, somewhere from the crowd, after Sal’s addition.  My stomach tensed up.  It was amazing how fast people forgot all the good.  Most of the bad feelings toward Daffy were present because of Sal’s talks and speeches since he had left.  How he had become a liability, an acceptable loss for the protection of our community.   

I saw Richard survey the reaction quickly.  He had felt the bad blood and my eyes narrowed as I watched him try and feed off of it.  “The police didn’t know what to do with the body so I guess they’re going to like incinerate him or something.”  His smile and sudden laugh felt forced, out of place.  He immediately realized his mistake, turning his head to the side to avoid the eyes of the community.  He scratched the back of his head.

Sal took no note of it.  I knew she was concerned with only one thing.  “Do you think he gave a map to anybody else?”

Richard stared at her for a second, shaking his head in doubt.  “Ah, no… I don’t think so.”  I noticed relief on his face, thankful that the attention had been shifted from his foot-in-mouth display.

She looked at Etienne, Francoise and Richard, one by one.  “And you, have you shown this map to anybody?”

They answered one after the other.  “No.”

“Good.”  She handed the open map to Richard.  I felt another example coming on.  She grabbed Bugs’ lighter and smiled, “We value our secrecy.”  She lighted the map at the bottom as Richard held it.  I heard the clapping begin.  With that, our new members had been baptized.

~~~~~  

After dinner, the nightly ritual of bedtime began for all in the longhouse. The newly arrived were given their sleep locations. I quietly prayed to whatever Thai god had whispered in Sal’s ear and placed him an easy glance across the floor from me. It was a beautiful change of scenery.

Keaty was filling him in on how things ran daily in the hut when Sonja stood up. I sighed. It was a language class tonight. She politely requested everyone’s attention and began her translation prompt.

“Listen up, everybody.” Her blonde bob shook a bit as she scanned the room. Linguistic learning was mainly someone reciting a line in English – which everyone on the island spoke – and expecting a translation in the teacher’s native tongue. In Sonja’s case, we’d be regurgitating the phrase in Croation. I always cursed Sal when it was time for this, as it had been her bright idea to begin this ages ago.  I enjoyed poetry night so much more. I didn’t have to worry about getting called on to speak in front of the class.

“OK. Tomorrow I will travel for many miles on a bicycle.” She nodded her head towards the right of the hut. “Um, Vicki.”

Sitting just off to Richard’s side, Vick stopped in mid hit. I was curious if she had spoken to Richard much upon his arrival. She was a California girl. If my assumptions about where he was from were right, they might have a lot to talk about. She took just a second to contain her smoke before beginning. “Uh, sutra cu potovati mnogo milja bicicklom.”

I watched Richard listen intently before looking to Sonja to see how well Vicki had done. “Great, very good.” Sonja went on to her next victim. Though I should have been paying attention in case I was called, I was spending more time studying Richard.

After Helene, it was Keaty’s turn. In typical fashion, he stood up proudly. “All right. It’s far too easy, though.” With little effort, the words flowed freely out of his mouth. Cockily, he continued the rant. From what I could tell, his bicycle ride was going to be in the park after he ate a big breakfast. I shook my head, laughing at his pompous behavior as the rest of the group jeered. They eventually drowned him out. “There’s more, you know.” Before he sat down he took over Sonja’s duty and called out the next name. “Richard!”

There was an immediate hush. The newbie looked around and cleared his throat. To all listening, he choked out the words in a broken fashion; but, still surprisingly correct. Keaty yelled out in admiration, “Richard, you’re represented, man!” As was customary, the rest of the community applauded in sign language with their hands shaking while raised above their heads. I joined in on the compliment.

Richard grinned from ear to ear as he looked around the room. I felt that hiccup in my chest again as his eyes fell on me for a brief second. His eyes sparkled in the lantern lights. It was time to curse myself for being such a sucker for blue eyes.

~~~~~  

Six months later, he was still only someone I studied from afar.  There was the occasional friendly or duty-related chit-chat.  But he had assimilated quickly, making a name for himself in the process.  He still had a while to go, still only the second-string quarterback of the island.  I, on the other hand, was hardly in the running for head cheerleader or homecoming queen. 

He had become chummy with Keaty.  I had gotten most of my information on Richard through him.  The one thing I didn’t need explained to me was the crush he had on Francoise, the French girl that had accompanied him on the journey.  I wondered if Etienne’s ignorance to his friend’s feelings about his girlfriend was simply a show.  The looks Richard gave Francoise were just a bit too long.  I hoped my crush was not as obvious to everyone else.

“Beth!”  Keaty strode up beside me on the way back from a day of tilling in the garden.

“What’s up?”

“Have a question for you, love.”  I always grinned when he said that.

“Shoot.”

Always the gentleman, he took my shovel, and leaned it against his right shoulder as we walked.

“Triple A’s.  In short supply.  Got any I can borrow?”

“God, Keaty, what have you been doing with them lately?”

“Not me only, Richard’s been hogging my GameBoy as well.  We’re thinking of starting our own group.  VGAA.”  I stared at him curiously.  He smiled explaining, “Video Game Addicts Anonymous.” 

I laughed, shaking my head.  “Well, I don’t know if I should be a facilitator then, supplying you with the means to continue this addiction.”

“Ah, but the first step on the road to recovery is admission, which I’ve already done.  Can’t stop cold turkey, right?”

“I’ll have some for you after dinner.”

“Thanks, Beth.  You are a life saver, have I told you that?”

I nodded.

“Well, you are.  I’m not the only one that knows it, love.”

“Enough sucking up, I already said I would give them to you.”

“Right.  How about trying a game of cricket with me tomorrow then?”

“That’s OK, I prefer watching.”

“I’ve noticed.”  I slapped his arm after that comment.

“Don’t hit me over the truth.”  We both laughed, approaching the clearing to the beach.  I didn’t spot Richard until Keaty had called over to him.  “Richard, my man, we are back in business!”

Richard turned upon hearing his name.  He sat on the beach with Christo and his fishing spear in hand.  He nodded, smiling.  “What Keaty!?”

“Got our dealer right here!”  He placed his free hand over my shoulder.  “Kong competition tonight!” 

I felt myself blush with his attention on me. “Cool!  Thanks Beth!” He waved over to the both of us.

I nodded and freed myself from Keaty’s grasp and grabbed the shovel back. “Gotta wash up, Keaty.”

~~~~~

I’d settled down in my bunk after a satisfying meal of rice and catfish, accompanied by an unexpected salad.  I thought about the crop we would be working on the next day and couldn’t wait for the tomatoes to ripen.  They’d be a great addition to Unhygenix’s menu. 

I searched in my satchel for the book of poetry by Thoreau.

“Beth?”

My eyes looked up to find Richard towering above me.

“Yeah?”  I smiled despite myself.

He bent at the knees, lowering himself to my eye level.  “Don’t mean to be a pain, but Keaty and I,” I stared into his blue eyes a bit longer than I should have.

“Oh!”  I mentally slapped my forehead.  “The batteries.”  He smiled, nodding.  “Sorry, I forgot all about it.”

“No problem, just didn’t know how much longer Keaty and I could last before we experience withdrawal symptoms.”  He chuckled, leaning his forearms against his knees.

I laughed, reaching over to my cigar box, my little treasure chest.  “What are some of the symptoms?” 

I turned back to see him hunched over, eyes wide, with his thumbs rapidly pressing invisible buttons.  “Nothing too severe.”  He started twitching his head.  He continued the act.  “Jump…  Right… Punch”.  I waved four batteries in front of his face, grinning.  He relaxed immediately, opening a palm for the alkaline gems to drop inside of.  “Whew, thanks.”  He winked, and then smiled, as his hand clutched them tightly.  “Could have gotten ugly.”

“Glad I could fix you up.”

“I owe you.”

I smiled, thinking of a few ways he could pay me back.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Night.”

“Good Night, Richard.”

I watched him stand up and turn, ready to make his way over to Keaty’s corner.  I was about to resume the search for my book when I saw him turn back out of the corner of my eye.  “Beth?”

“Uh-huh?”

“I was wondering… well,” he knelt down once again, “if you could help me with something?”

I nodded.

He looked around, I guessed to make sure no one was paying close attention.  I noticed him lingering his gaze in Sal’s direction before continuing, slightly above a whisper this time.  “It’s about Daffy.” 

It had been months since I had heard anyone utter his name.  “Daffy?”

He nodded.  “It’s just that… ever since we came here, I’ve had a lot of questions about him.  I mean he’s the reason we’re here.  But, no one talks about him.  I’ve asked Sal once, and Keaty a few times, but they just clam up or change the subject.  The only thing I got out of Keaty was that you were close to him.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Could you tell me something about him then?  Tomorrow maybe?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll meet up with you after fishing duty.”

“OK.”  I smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Good night.  Again.”  He smiled, walked off.  I lay back, placing my hand under my pillow.  That’s where Thoreau turned out to be hiding.  I pulled the worn book out, inspecting it.  Thoughts of curling up with a few of his verses were now long gone.  I had someone else to dream about.

[l1tyung1]

MASALI

The soft kiss of the sun landed softly on the corner of his lips, teasing them up into a sleepy smile. Every morning he would sit up, digging the crust from his eyes and give thanks to Jah for waking him so sweetly. There was no glass or curtain to steal the gift of the sun, only an open square cut into the wooden planks of his shanty right above his bed. It could be closed by way of another square of wood, mounted on hinges that he could swing in and deadbolt when the rain came. As Masali stood he reached his arms up and up, stretching the groaning sleep from his body, shaking his locks and scratching his head. He walked over to the door and pushed it open, tying the string that hung from the side to a nail on the outside so that it stayed open. His shack stood in a small clearing surrounded by a forest of fruit trees. Standing in the doorway he took a meal of a breath. The smell of cocoa pods ripening on gnarled branches, the sweet ruin of rotten mangoes on the ground. The biting tang of lemons and the mild citric scent of grapefruit all swelled into his hungry nose, lingering on his tongue before filling his belly with their succulent aroma. The light was still soft and the dewdrops in the air felt cool in his nose, sliding down into his lungs and filling his body with clean peace. He turned back into his home and grabbed the tray of chopped herb off the end table next to the head of his bed. Across the room there stood a wooden table with two wooden chairs, like all of the furniture in his home he’d carved them himself. He sat down at the table as he rolled his morning spliff. Once he finished he tucked it behind his ear, and grabbed a pair of shorts from the shelf against the wall between the table and the bed that held the small collection of clothes he owned. On his way outside he grabbed a lighter off of the dresser and stuck it in his pocket. He walked around to the side of the house where a garden of pepper trees, peas and cucumbers stood in proud rows saluting the breaking morn. He grabbed his bucket and soap where they lay on the ground by the house and headed to the river, keeping an eye out for the ripe prickle pears that always covered the ground this time of year. By the time he made it to the river bank the bottom of his bucket was full of the sweet round fruit. He stopped beside a big flat river stone that jutted out into river and put down his bucket. He took the spliff from his ear and placed it on the stone along with the lighter beside the bucket. Finally he slipped into the clear brisk water with soap in hand. After enjoying his refreshing bath, he sat on the stone with his feet dangling in the water and lit his morning spliff, blowing a cloud of grey smoke into the clear sky. Sitting in the growing heat of the sun, Masali turned his thoughts to the day ahead, planning how he would make his money. He was a hustler who lived off the land. Usually he would spend the morning roaming the countryside gathering whatever fruits or vegetables he could find, then he would sell his load to people in the neighborhood, or sometimes he would find his way to the market and peddle his goods there. Just as he was making up his mind to go back and check on a breadfruit tree he’d seen the day before, the sound of crunching leaves interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see a group of men headed in his direction walking along the river. There were four of them dressed in jeans and t-shirts, wearing bright yellow vests with reflective strips. They noticed him when they were a couple yards off and he waved good morning to them.

“Wah goin on ras?”

The man closest to him returned his greeting as they slowed to talk to him.

“Nuttin much, I cool bredren. Y’all workin out here?” Masali asked.

“Yea, some yankee man done buy up a whole thousand acres out here so we come and mark the boundaries for the sale.”

“I thought this land out here belonged to Francis people and dem?”

“Well it used to. I don’t know if you know the old man Cedric, he was the last one that had claim on the land and he never had no children. He was livin over in England but he pass away a while back, about ten years now. Since nobody claim the land it went back to the government for a while but I guess they finally find somebody to take it off they hands.”

“You know anything about the man who buy it, a yankee you say?” Masali asked.

“Well the talk is he planning to build some houses out here to rent for tourists. That’s all I really know. You know man don’t ask too many questions long as they pay we.” the workmen chuckled amongst themselves at the bad joke.

“You live around here?” the surveyor asked.

“Yea, yea. You know Ms Sharon big shop up on the main road? Well right over there I stayin.” he lied.

“Ok, yea I kno where. We gone head over there this afternoon for lunch. Well we aint mean to disturb your meditation, and we have to go get these boundaries run so we gone head out. Take care Ras.”

As the man and his team prepared to move on Masali picked up his bucket and walked towards them, “Before yall go take some golden apple. I jus pick them up this mornin, they real sweet.” “You sure?” the surveyor asked as he looked into the bucket of ripe fruit.

“Yea man, bless up. Take that for the walk. I know y’all gone be workin hard out here.”

The men thanked Masali as they took his gift and headed down the river bank, leaving him alone with his thoughts again. He sat back down on the river stone and relit his spliff which had gone out. He turned to the sky and emptied himself into the smoke that rose to the clouds. He sat in the stillness of the clearing and no happy thoughts or plans moved through his mind. By now the heat of the sun was beginning to weigh heavy on his bare skin. The memory of the surveyor’s words came back to him but he pushed it away and smoked the rest of his spliff in stillness. The walk back to his shack felt long. He looked around as he walked the path and everything looked new and strange. The sound of his bare feet crunching on the dried leaves sounded too loud, as if the earth itself protested his right to walk here. Soon he was standing in front of his shack. Eight years he had lived in this little clearing he thought to himself. When he first found it there was nothing but untamed bush. He had asked around the neighborhood and people told him the Francis family had ‘gone to foreign.’ He stood staring at the small wooden building, looking over the boards and remembering the sensation of pounding the nails into place. He noticed how his careful measuring had left no gaps in the boards. Each plank lay straight, even, deliberate, placed with meticulous precision. He remembered how proud he felt because instead of using big squares of plywood which would have been easy, he’d used individual planks because they were sturdier. The galvanized roof lay flat and solid, no shoddily laid patches catching the wind and rattling against the frame. He could see the posts he’d driven into the ground and how strong they stood. Standing looking at the house he had built alone, in the bush, his chest grew tight. He knew he would be fine, he had never had a problem surviving, but this was the one time in his life he had truly owned something. He could wait until the rich yankee came and ask him for permission to stay, but the very thought of begging for this home that he had built with his own hands hurt too much. Besides what would he have to pay? What piece of himself would have to be offered up in return. He had no claim to this land even though he’d fed the soil his own sweat and blood. No. No matter how he looked at it, he would have to leave. Even now he felt like a stranger on this land. How could he rest his head here knowing that when he opened his eyes his sunlit kisses would only mean he was one day closer to being robbed of his prize. He thought of strange men dressed in hard hats, stomping around his garden in work boots. He heard the roaring engine of the Caterpillar bulldozer and the screams of the wood beneath the iron treads. Saw them picking up the pieces and throwing them into wheelbarrows to be rolled to dumpsters where his house would lie with filth and debris like common trash. It was clear to him that whatever he did, he could not allow this to happen. It wasn’t a thought so much as a compulsion. He felt the strength to move from where he stood rooted to the ground, he walked into the small shack and began throwing what little he owned into a green canvas bag. Once the house was bare he gathered as much dead wood and brush as he could find into the center of the floor. He moved deliberately and automatically, allowing his focus on his actions to block out all dissenting emotions or distractions. Soon thick clouds of black smoke billowed up into the afternoon sun. He stood in front of the blazing fire, watching it burn with all the vigor and spirit he’d poured into the wooden walls. Finally the storm of his tears broke, raining down his dark, still face. He stood and watered the earth with his tears while the cracking, splintering cries of his home rose into the sky. By the time the last of the flames curled lazily from the coals, a thick blanket of night laid softly across the sky. He raised his head and breathed deep, eyes closed, listening to the land. Crickets screaming in the darkness. The whispering voices of trees drifted on the wind. The memory of a pregnant breadfruit tree drifted into his mind and he opened his eyes.

“Thank Jah” he whispered as he turned and walked into the waiting arms of the bush.