#hummingbird cake iv

[w9ahmed]

Hummingbird Cake IV Recipe This won a Blue Ribbon at a County Fair. Frost with cream cheese icing, the tangy frosting brings out the blend of fruits and nuts in the cake. 1.5 teaspoons vanilla extract, 2/3 cup mashed bananas, 2 cups white sugar, 1 can crushed pineapple with juice, 1/4 cup chopped black walnuts, 3/4 cup chopped pecans, 1 teaspoon salt, 3 cups all-purpose flour, 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, 1.25 cups vegetable oil, 3 eggs, 1 teaspoon baking soda

[rudycarter]

Pineapple Dessert - Hummingbird Cake IV This won a Blue Ribbon at a County Fair. Frost with cream cheese icing, the tangy frosting brings out the blend of fruits and nuts in the cake.

[thesexymnm]

#1 - the last summer

hi guys! im excited to finally share some of my writing on my tumblr. this one i wrote back in february of this year and it’s a personal one. i hope you enjoy it, and of course, if you have any suggestions of things i could work on, im open to anything. im 15 and ive been creative writing for years and years, but im still young so anywhere i could improve id like to work on. alright, here is The Last Summer.

A sunny Saturday in June and the birds were still singing their song as I drove south down the rocky path to Nana and Pa’s house. In the car with me, my mother and father. Mom was filled with hope and love, she was hoping that the treatments would work, and that the cancer would vanish, but the past few months would say different. There were five clouds painted on the otherwise blue horizon behind my grandparents house as we pulled our pearly white Volkswagen into the long, winding driveway.

Pulling open the front door made a creek noise, which was a signal for my grandparents to shout, “Hey!”, and they did, just like every time. A rush of cold air hit my face walking into their house, and it smelled of May’s early dandelions. I was greeted by the usual five kisses from Nana, and a bear hug from Pa. Only this time, he was bald, and to give me that warm hug that was so distinct I could never forget it even if I tried, he had to let go of his walker. It looked like the one the old man uses from the Disney movie, “Up”, and it was so unusual, it upset me. I never pictured him as an old man, although he was my grandpa.

Back in his youth, my grandpa was good with his hands, building sheds, houses, and other smaller things. He used to climb trees,go swimming, things young people do. However, these activities weren’t something he stopped doing back twenty years ago. He was doing that type of stuff up until the diagnosis, a few months previous. When he was hospitalized, I knew that things were never going to be the same. He’d tell me,

“Kate, you just have to be tough sometimes.”

He was released in early June, but it didn’t mean he was getting any better.

July was different. Mom had her birthday that month. He was there, but not in good shape. He almost reminded me of a narcoleptic. He was just so weak, and he wasn’t hiding it, if he was stronger I’m sure he would’ve but the state he was in made it impossible for him to disregard the pain he was enduring. “Mom, should I wake up Pa? We are gonna blow out the candles soon, Dad has the cake ready.” I asked her. But she replied with, “No, Kate. Just let him rest. We will do it without him.” I know deep down she wanted to wake him up for that minute and have him stand by her side as we sang the song. But she was his daughter, and she wanted him to rest and get better.  And so Mom blew out the candles on her fortieth birthday without her father by her side. I was naive back then, I didn’t really understand what happens when someone dies. Up until those months I had never experienced death. It’s scary, sad, but most of all, it’s painful. Nana and Pa left the party early to drive back to their house, so he could get more rest.

The next week, Mom drove me to their house so I could stay the weekend there. I never minded staying at my grandparents house. It was beautiful, large and cozy. I got there and put my bags in the sunflower themed guest room upstairs, the green walls reminded me of summers when the window was open, with the cool breeze rushing into the room that smelt of the sea. “Kate, come down here for a minute!” I heard Nana shout. I rushed downstairs to find her in the kitchen, stirring a bowl of who-knows-what. She said, “Go help Pa in the garage, I’m sure he would enjoy your help and company.” She shot me a little smile as I nodded yes. I opened the door to the garage and there he was, in a wheelchair, working on this old 1940’s Chevy truck. The body of the truck was all rusty blue, but painting it was forever out of the question for him, he liked the look of the original paint from almost eighty years ago. He heard me open the door, and he spun around his chair so he could see me.

“Hey Kate! What do you need?” He said when he saw my face.

I replied with, “Nothing, I was just wondering if you needed any help.”

He smiled and accepted my assistance. He showed me what he was working on, and that when he is in the chair, he can’t get inside the truck to test the engine. So, that was my job, turning the key every so often and fetching him tools that were up on shelves he couldn’t reach. It made me happy that I got to spend some time with him. Unfortunately, it was the last time I spent with him like that. I never ruined the memory, tainting it with the ugly stigma of the last real bonding moment between him and I. I just had to stay positive through all of it, and remember the good times rather than the bad.

August was the last time I saw him. My grandpa was a summer type of guy. When my grandparents retired from their jobs, they built their dream home on this quiet street with a creek at the end for their boat. I remember it like she never moved away after he was gone, like I still went there every summer for a few weeks, like I still rode in the boat and got splashed by the salty water that was always so cold, but felt so nice on your face on a hot August afternoon. Those things were part of my childhood, and I would never forget them.

Mom and I opened the front door to my grandparents house in the middle of August. We were greeted with a, “Hey!” from Nana, but not from Pa. It was noon on a breezy Sunday when he shuffled out of his bedroom. He looked oddly frail since I saw him last on that weekend in July. He was paler, skinnier, and visibly worse in his condition. Nana helped him sit down at the table with all of us so we could enjoy the doughnuts Mom and I had brought over from his favorite bakery. He was just acting strange, like something wasn’t right. He was talking about random things, and couldn’t focus on the conversation. It was off for sure, and after our doughnuts, Mom and I decided to leave the house. We got in the car, and drove back down the long driveway, as Nana and Pa waved down from the porch. I rolled down my window and yelled, “I love you!”, and Pa grinned showing his teeth and yelled it back. That August day was the last time I saw him.

September brought tears to our family. I didn’t cry when I heard the news, just stared at my father who broke the news to me, wondering how this could’ve happened. There is no bright side to death, its tragic mostly always. I just remembered to be strong, and not remember that summer as a bad one, because it was his last one. Rather remember it as a good one, filled with memories. Just like any other summer that I’ve had at their house. If there was a time in the six months after his passing when I was feeling particularly sad about him no longer being with me, I had to remember,

“Kate, you just have to be tough sometimes.”

Once I thought about that, I was always able to keep my cool and hold back my tears. Summer was his favorite season, and as it came to a close, there he was, doing the same.

The memories brought me back to days in June with blue skies and hummingbirds. The memories brought me back to July, filled with birthday cake and elbow grease. These memories brought me back to August, with doughnuts and the last “I love you”, but that was just the last one said. There was so many more thought in my head and I’m sure there was some in his too, even if it wasn’t as sharp as it used to be. These memories I have all bring me back to September when I saw my first dead body laying in a room, on a bed with a roof. But the good times reign over the bad in so many ways. The memories I chose to remember and travel back to in the fake world of happiness in everyone's mind said that I needed to be tough. And so, I was.

[spacekru-sass]

the ice king’s queen (IV)

A story based on a dream I had of a character set in season 4. But every character has their journey to take, their backstory that tells how they got to where and who they were. And with the hiatus til Season 5? We’ve got time to make up

part 1   part 2  part 3 part 5

tag list: @lovelynerdytraveler@mischievousweasleys @floralfangurl @p3nny4urth0ught5

Warning: there is mentioned underage sex reference in here, please be warned. 

I LOVE LOVE LOVE FEEDBACK so please don’t hesitate to tell me what you love, what you don’t love, what you hope to see for this character! Feedback keeps me in touch with the reader and we all want to succeed, right? I want you to read a good story, which keeps me writing because you’re happy! <3

Avie woke up later that evening to Octavia screaming outside. Bellamy had already sat up, his warm embrace gone from her waist. He held a stiff expression, not even throwing on a shirt as he moved out of the tent to save his sister from the distress outside. Avie followed in suit, clad only in a tank top and some pants, a blanket wrapped around you.

“What’s going on?” she asked, glancing up to the sky as a dropship flamed it’s way to Earth.

“They're coming to help us. Now we can kick some grounder ass,” one of the guys behind her cheers and she rolls her eyes as one of the tarts of camp prayed for shampoo.

“Shampoo is the least important thing, maybe it’s guns or food supplies,” Avie insisted, “Medical equipment; maybe they think with us taking off our wristbands that we’re sick.” She glanced up at Bellamy to see the shocked expression on his face.

10 minutes later, Avie was dressed in Bellamy’s tent. She pulled on her makeshift holster that she’d made and slid her blade in. “What are you doing?” he asked tensely.

“I’m getting ready to go, we should get out there before the grounders do. If it cleared the ridge, it's probably near the lake,” she said but he pursed his lips, crossed his arms.

“No one's going anywhere. Not while it's dark. It isn't safe,” he insisted, “Go back to bed.” His expression was mute, a hidden temple of secrets that Avie had regretfully wanted to crack open.

“Bellamy Blake, I saw your facial expression outside,” Avie’s hands hung from her holster, “You need to tell me what you did, are they coming for you? What did you do?” She pushed but he only glanced away.

“Go back to bed Hummingbird,” he spoke softly, disappearing into the chaos of camp to inform everyone that they were staying put until morning. But when had Avie ever listened to the shaggy haired boy. She turned to blow out the light in the tent when her eyes made contact with the pistol next to Bellamy’s mattress. Better protection, right? She reached for it quickly, and blew out the lantern before disappearing out of the walls.

The trek to the dropship wasn’t that long, maybe a mile or two away but through a passage of trees, she saw the small metal box. She pulled the pistol from the back of her pants, double checking that the safety was off before holding it up cautiously and moving toward the ship. She fanned away some smoke as she heard some fuzz coming from a radio, a radio.

She moved forward before hearing a noise from behind her. She turned quickly only to be met by Bellamy. “Bell, what are you--,” he hit her over the head begrudgingly as she fell to the ground, unconscious. When she came to, she was being shaken by Clarke, dried blood caked to her forehead.

“Avie, what the hell happened to you?” Clarke mumbled, helping her sit up. Avie groaned, her baseball cap on the ground a few feet from her.

“Bellamy,” she grunted, standing up and moving to the dropship. “He was probably after the rad-, oh god, the radio,” she remembered, rushing to open the door. The radio was gone, only to find a young female, bloody and bruised. “Hi,” she breathed out, the girl looking wide-eyed at her.

“Hi,” she replied, matching the same look. She glanced down around her, the helmet shattered, the blood on her spacesuit dried a sickly brown maroon. “I made it?” she asked, looking back to Avie who nodded with a thoughtful grin.

“Yeah,” she helped her out, watching her blissfully turn around as Clarke watched. For a moment, the dangers of Earth, of Bellamy, of the Ark didn’t matter. Clarke and Avie were brought back to their first steps of the ground, merely 12 days before. The raindrops are refreshing as Finn comes into view and Raven kisses him, touching his face affectionately. Finn looks to Clarke, she’s devastated and Avie slid her hand down to grasp Clarke’s. She squeezes as the two interacted, Finn coming over for a tense moment.

Raven explained the situation of the Ark, about how she was supposed to have come down with Clarke’s mom, running back to the dropship. “We have to radio them! Tell them you’re alive,” Raven yelled.

“The radio’s gone,” Avie announced as the three turned to look at her, “This is all my fault, I should’ve shot him,” she raised her eyebrows at Finn angrily. “We have to find him.” Avie turns to run back to camp to confront the man who she clearly no longer knew, the other three on her heels. She saw him in the distance, walking along but didn’t have a chance to speak as Clarke got to him first.

“Hey! Where is it?”

“Hey, princess. You taking a walk in the woods?” he gruffed, his eyes staring straight forward as he continued moving through the trees.

“They're getting ready to kill 300 people up there to save oxygen. And I can guarantee you it won't be council members. It'll be working people. Your people. Bellamy. Where's the radio?” Avie cried out, catching up to them. Being out of breath didn’t stop her from stepping forward and shoving the man forcefully.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Bellamy’s jaw was tight, locked as he glanced at Finn, chuckling at how crazy you looked.

“You knocked me out in the woods alone, took all my weapons except a small knife and left me stranded,” you spat in his face, Finn stepping forward to pull you away from him. “You really want to tell me you have no idea what I’m talking about?” He was looking directly at you now, eyes filled with regret and confusion. He gulped and turned to catch someone’s eye who would help him.

“Bellamy Blake? They're looking everywhere for you,” Raven stepped forward, standing next to you with her hands on her hips.

“Shut up.”

“Looking for him, why?” Clarke asked, your eyes staring intently at Bellamy’s face, then to Raven.

“He shot Chancellor Jaha,” Raven announced and you stepped back in shock at her words. Mouth agape, you stared openly at him. All the work she did to keep him out of trouble, all the sacrifices Avie had made to keep him from being locked up, from being floated.

“That's why you took the wristbands. Needed everyone to think we're dead. And all that "whatever the hell we want"? You just care about saving your own skin,” Clarke spelt out but Avie had already moved away from the pack, slumped against a tree. Her chest compressed, tightly wound up as all the memories that led her to her sentence a lost cause, he was a criminal regardless. Her state went unnoticed.

Avie’s focus came to as Bellamy threatened Raven’s life, taking a step forward as the two got in each other’s faces. “That’s enough,” she gasped out, everyone turning to look at her. She doubled over, huffing for air.

“Jaha deserved to die. You all know that,” Avie shook her head as Finn came to her side. She held her hand up, signaling she was fine.

“Yeah, he's not my favorite person, either. But he isn't dead. You're a lousy shot.” Avie had heard enough. After learning that Bellamy had thrown the radio into a ravine, she stocked off into that direction. She felt like she was going to throw up or maybe pass out. She lived with her decisions for a year, thinking that what she’d done was right as long as it had saved Bellamy; given him a real chance. He’d been the best in his class, he was smart. He had potential. But everything she’d done had gone to waste.

“Avie,” his voice cracked as she began sloshing through the water, his hand clasped around her wrist.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me, don’t look at me,” she seethed, ripping her arm from his grasp.

“Avie, please understand, I did it-,”

“Don’t you dare say you did it for me and O,” she laughed effortlessly. His head cocked to the side, unsure of how to response to Avie’s attitude. “You want to know what I did to take care of you?” Avie spat in his face, pushing him backward so he fell in the water, splashes rising up to douse his face in water. Everyone turned for a moment before quickly turning away, leaving the drama as a personal moment. “I slept with the guard, for you. I insisted that I wouldn’t tell anyone, that I would take full blame if he let you go.”

Bellamy stared up at her in shock, face gone pale, a frown appearing on his lips as he stood in the water. “Don’t, I don’t want your pity. Hummingbird always finds a way, right? I did what I had to do to give you a real chance at a life and I did it all for nothing,” she chuckled humorlessly again, holding her hands up, “because here you are.” She cleared her throat. “So, do me a favor, leave me alone.”

“I found it,” Raven yelled behind her, holding up the dripping radio from the water.

[pratoperfeito]

Olha que simpatia esse Hummingbird cake. Ele é de banana com abacaxi e especiarias. Típico no sul dos Estados Unidos. As bananinhas eu modelei com marzipan (pasta de amêndoas). CERT IV PATISSERIA @sydney_tafe (at Medowbank Tafe) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9CDvQrled9/?igshid=lzfwoill8zt4

[incaseofjeon]

hellooo i just finished reading lucky strike and i really like your writing!!! it's the second thing of yours i've read :) for some reason i can relate a lot to JK?? in his decision to run away i mean HAHA really interesting style too especially at the beginning, when i was starting to get into the plot. i look forward to reading your other stuff! :) a few questions though (and i'm sorry if this has been asked) but 1. what was jimin's power?? 2. what are your fav books? yay! thanks!! -c

omgg THANK YOU SO MUCH ;A; im so so so happy that you read that fic and enjoyed it ahhhhdhsfjds ;__; though ohh i wonder what the first of my fics you read was 👀? hahfbds

and im glad you found his character relatable ;;;; when writing it his story was also the one sort of closest to me personally? so im really glad that other people found him relatable too ahhfjddsj so jUST. thank you!!! thank you so much, for reading and for taking the time to tell me this T–T im really happyy

as for your questions! here ill put them under a read-more bc i just know im gonna get rambly omfgdf

ok so, jimin’s power - I’M ACTUALLY SO GLAD YOU ASKED, because it’s a part of the story that almost no one’s asked about even though it’s kind of a big deal for jimin. which is….jimin doesn’t have a power lmaO. almost everyone in that au has superpowers; its the norm to have one, but fic!jimin just..doesn’t. it’s something he’s probably felt odd about growing up; in his growing years he probably tended to feel like he had to work extra hard to be sort of special or noticed and stuff T-T that’s also part of the reason he originally was drawn to jeongguk in school after the dictionary incident - by that age he’d kind of started to guess that he wasn’t going to develop a power, since it’s really rare for it to develop any later than teenage years, and jeongguk was the first person he’d known to not like his own power ;; so to jimin it was kind of eye-opening to realise that the power he’d always been upset about not having could possibly bring harm as well as good ahjsbdsjhd..so yeAH!! im so so glad you asked this omdfd i feel like..im finally doing fic!jimin justice in telling his unwritten story T–T

and MY FAVOURITE BOOKS. omfg there’s so so many im just going to list as many as i can think of off the top of my head:

1. The Raw Shark Texts (by Steven Hall)

this one is one of my all time favourites, and a HUGE huge huge inspiration in writing that’s left an impact on me for a really long time ;; IT’S SO UNDERRATED but it’s super gripping and interesting and experimentally fresh, and has really well-written themes of like love and loss and unfaithful memories and losing memories and a lot of cool internal/mental things like that! the ending is super cool to me, too ;;; the writing style is like nothing ive ever really seen anywhere else and is just super compelling in the way the author selects and arranges certain simple words in un-simple ways? and there are many parts of this book that are ambiguous in what exactly happened; that’s exactly why i love it? idk i jsut - i get super super excited about this book pleasE READ IT 

2. The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake (by Aimee Bender)

actually, i have loved about every single thing by aimee bender that i’ve read, but this is the only novel of hers ive read so far so i’ll go with that hjsbdjhsf…her short story collections are super lovely too, some of my favourite short stories by her are Job’s Jobs, Appleless, Death Watch, Motherfucker, I Will Pick Out Your Ribs (from My Teeth), and Faces. Aimee Bender is really one of my favourite authors ever, she has a really distinctive style and flavour thats creative and poetic and charmingly matter-of-fact all at once, that makes the most mundane stuff seem magical and the most magical stuff seem mundane. like. idk. IM REALLY IN LOVE with her writing ;;;;; ahdsbfjhbfds please check her out if you can!!!

3. A Wrinkle in Time & its sequels (by Madeleine L’Engle)

this whole series is just..really lovely in its ideas and hopeful and really gave me a huge sense of wonder the first time i read it? and there are some scenes in it that were just so beautifully magical (even though it’s actually sci-fi) and moving that i’ve never forgotten them to this day ;___; even though i first read it when i was 11 lmaO. but really, this is so soso osos o lovely idk if youve ever read it but i hope you have/get to read it some day abfdf

4. The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

jhasgfjhs kate dicamillo is another of my all time favourite writers, i grew up hunting library shelves for her name lmao her writing is just..really beautiful in its ideology and style? there’s something very pure and innocent and whimsical and so so poetic about the things she writes and the way she tells stories, i always tend to read her stuff in one sitting bc it’s just so hard to stop ;;; i love her work so so much 

5. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

i actually…can’t remember the exact story of this anymore BUT I DO remember that when i read it, i was completely blown away by the power of the writing style? bradbury’s writing is just…really distinctive in a heavier kind of way? like it’s poetic but kind of grips you around the heart idK im not sure how to explain it. i’m always stunned at the way he chooses his words and crafted his world in this book ajhsfbjd i love it sooo much ;;; i want to reread soon sdhfds

6. The Monstrumologist series (by Rick Yancey)

THIS ONE IS SO UNDERRATED i love it omg..it’s more gory and dark than most the things ive mentioned but the gore never feels like..needless? idk. i just love it so much and the kinds of ideas like the blurring of lines between man and monster, as well as the changing relationships of growing up - the book series just handles that so so well and with a really exciting gripping plot too ahdgsd i love it i love iiit. my fav book in the series is probably the lsle of Blood; there’s a line in there about a plate that haunTS ME ALWAYS 

7. Skellig and Kit’s Wilderness by David Almond

david almond is another writer i grew up reading ahhHH it’s honestly been too long for me to exactly remember what i loved about these 2 books - BUT I LOVE THEM

8. The Seas by Samantha Hunt

i actually am reading this book literally right now, so i havent reached the ending and im not sure if ill still love it as much as i currently do by that point, but so far i definitely am loving it SO much!! the writing and metaphors and characterisation are so damn beautiful and interesting and the writer has a lovely flow and really fresh way of arranging words and delivering ideas ;; it’s just really prettily and freshly and creatively written ;A; plus, i have this…Thing for the ocean so i love that a central part of this book is about the sea ahhH 

9. Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami 

I WISH I HAD MORE HARUKI MURAKAMI THINGS TO TALK ABOUT but this is the only of his books ive found so far - and I LOVE IT TO DEATH. i actually read norwegian wood and the particular sadness of lemon cake in the time period when i wrote my latest fic (thought you knew) and they really ;;; damn, a double whammy of inspiration omfg. norwegian wood is just…really really interesting and deep and real without being too heavy-hearted in the way it talks about things like relationships, devotion, alienation and loss? idk, it’s just- i love it so so so much, especially the ending paragraph ahhhh

10. Cathedral and A Small, Good Thing (by Raymond Carver)

THESE ARE TECHNICALLY SHORT STORIES, not books. but i just love them so much i have to mention them ;;; i honestly love raymond carver and his way of writing a lot, he just..he says so much with so little? he’s a huge inspiration i look up to like crazy especially when it comes to crafting dialogue ahhh. i also really love his poem Hummingbird!

11. The Devotion of Suspect X by Keigo Higashino

idek where to start with this one..THE PLOT IS JUST. FUCKING BRILLIANT and it’s a really interesting take on the idea of devotion, especially devotion to..um..unhealthy kinds of levels? idk. it’s just….so well thought through and super cool i was Mind Blown™ when i read it kasjndskdf

12. Bunker 10 by J.A. Henderson

this is another one in team BLEW MY FUCKIGN MIND ahhh ;; i read it super super long ago but the plot is so so good? it’s the kind that’s a bit confusing at first, but then everything gets revealed and i’m completely shook and eye-opened and want to read it again with the new knowledge, you know what i mean? just- i cant remember what the writing style was like but the PLOT and setting was soo so so cool T—T

and that’s…all i can think of at the moment ajhbfjsdhf IM SORRY YOU PROBABLY DIDNT EXPECT ME TO BE SO EXTRA AS TO GIVE SUCH A LONG ASS REPLY but im just…..very very very passionate and invested in the books i love, ok. im so. akjsfbjhdsf

anyway yeah!! thank you so soso soso SO much for reading my writing and liking it and making the effort to let me know ;;;; im really so happy reading and replying to your message, it means so much to me T-T i hope you have a great great day ilY anon c!!!