sweetish-original-story

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 18

Back in the cold, dusty halls of Sammy's home the echoes of faint panting bounced back and forth against the walls, the floor and the ceiling. The muffled, rhyming sound of perfectly aligned footsteps acted as a beat to the primal sound, and had it not been trapped in her ribcage, be accompanied by the procession of her heart. The Tiffany Arrows album had run out of songs to play, and Sammy didn't feel like pressing replay or thinking of something else to play. The treadmill she uses costs more than her rhinoplasty. Granted, her rhinoplasty was only a simple file down, to make her nose more sharp.

Somehow that thought distracted her from the beads of sweat rolling down her brow and the dryness in her lungs. That nose job was the first and most defining treatment she ever had, not counting the never ending diets, never ending vitamins, military level workouts and fully prepaid spa treatments. The way she looked before, while still considered more than beautiful by her peers, was too round and soft for the standard set in her circle. Her culture believed that outer beauty was one of the most defining factors in a person's life, and she's heard horror stories of people who were thown away as children in the past for looking too ungodly. For as much Sammy thought the whole thing was stupid, she couldn't help but admit that she herself had memories of being treated as less than when she first started making her own clothing. In that moment, a voice crossed her mind;

"What a horrible thing to think! Back home, people like that were seen as miracles, a gift from the depths of the ocean to cherish! How could your people leave your very own out to rot!" Dulce. Of course it was his voice that crossed her mind. Sammy decided to turn the treadmill down a bit to focus on this one amongst the sea of other thoughts scratching away in the back of her mind. She can't focus if she's breathing too loud.

Dulce always made being a good person seem so... effortless. How does someone do that, just to be a good person, a kind soul with no flaws whatsoever? Well of course there are the OBVIOUS ones, but if her country didn't have that stupid social standard they would ALL see it too. When she was younger she heard whispers about their race being uneducated thieves who live in caves because they were too ugly to be seen by The Serpent. How they would spend all day getting drunk and belligerent and all night cannabalizing anyone and anything that bothered them.

 Even as a child she thought they were horrible rumors, but to her shock, just a couple of weeks ago the dumbest one of all turned out to be true. Who would have guessed Murfolken were born with a golden tooth on their forehead? Why? What was it used for? And why does it fall off? At the time she was too embarrassed to ask anything further, but now, especially with the swarm of emails and fan letters asking about it during the last issue....

She turns the treadmill down again. A nice simple trot. Focus. 

Her own people were not as magical in her mind. Sirpentborne were just so... predictable. Easy. Too easy to categorize. She tries not to let her own biased inform her relationship with others, but each and every day, having to look at the same grey skin blue cheeks and the same beesting lips under the same sharpened nose under the same stoney brow over the slightly different shade of grey or blue or black or whatever eyes is maddening. And then having to perfect it all? Mass producing photo after photo, everything being clean and safe and the only difference being mole, a season, photoshopping out any leaf that's less than green and any flower that didn't bloom?She'd rather die right now, right in this moment, by being run over by a sentient gelato truck that reincarnated into a duck. An angry gelato truck. With wings.

Dulce never felt that way. He loved every bit of what she captured, the dust, the dirt, the picture she kept in her personal folder of him sitting on the floor of his shop after closing, absolutely demolishing a crunchy walnut burrito, doused in cheese and hot sauce. That was REAL joy. REAL life. He didn't need a wedding with irisis shipped in from the west or to have all of his kids wearing the exact same dress, tailored and clean pressed. She didn't need A jeweled arch or to wait 5 hours so the sun could be in the right spot. He didn't even notice what a shabby job she did when setting up the stand at the food fair. She didn't think he even realized the table fell over because of her recklessness. Of course, shed have done a better job of she wasn't late but he didn't even bring it up. He was just... grateful. For everything she did. 

The sound of her machine slowly gave way to the near imperceptble sound of heels, clicking away at marble, and the jingling of keys. It Sammy moved to her room now, her mother would take it as an invitation to have a "conversation with her. She had to stay calm. Quiet. Unnoticeable. A piece of background art in her own home. Like the echoes on the wall and the dust on the ivory. Complete invisibility.

The sound stopped for a moment, and so did Sammy's breath. The opening of a drawer. The low grumble in her mom's throat. More clicking. A door. A door? And then... silence. All was silent besides her feet and her machine. Her mother simply forgot her day clutch. She had been spared. 

In quiet relief, Sammy decided to turn the entire set up off. 

#original story #sweetish #candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #sweetish upload #romance #soundcloud

[sweetish-original-story]

I swear I'm still alive I'm just so disabled and busy. Sorry. Here's a new chapter as an apology.

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 17

The sound of chopping and sizzling was almost as loud as the scent of the healthy, seedy breakfast Dulce was prepping for his baby birdy. He knew doing this every morning is spoiling the poor thing, but he just couldn't help but want to provide for the little thing. It certainly gave him some purpose the past few years, made him feel like he mattered to someone, at least. When he left home things were hard. He already looked different, and that already made things difficult. If not for the fact that one of his cousins already gifted him property to sell out of, and live in if need be, he'd have been in much worse circumstances than he had been.

The chopping grows louder and faster as he silently reminiscence on his circumstances. Bubo peeped at its mom in a concerned tone as it recognized the change in attitude. His mothers illness is affecting him again, and Bubo was prepping himself to fly onto his favorite perch, the safest place in the house, as to not get caught by the ricochet of his outburst.

Dulce was a good man. A hard worker. Detail oriented and strong. He had been shamed out of his home for not wanting to fulfill a role that was not meant for him, or for anyone with a brain. They tried to convince him it was for a greater purpose, tried to keep him I'll and dumb and small, so he would never grow curious. But he was curious. And clever. The chopping speeds up.

It wasn't fair. All those good souls he let crumble to dust. All that work, being fed lie after lie. He was told he was creating medicine for the war, to heal the scars their allies had created as a "necessary sacrifice" only to find out they were the ones helping create the very poison that doomed them.

And then, as a killing blow, he finds out his elders were praying for more. And yet it's HE who is punished?

There is a long silence as Bubo fluffs his feathers and prepares to take flight. The chopping resumes. All Dulce ever does is give love and light to the world like his Gods told him to and all his own people have ever done was use him and his family as tools for a purpose that was tainted by-

If Bubo hadn't dealt with this his whole life, he'd have been flattened by the hot frying pan that came flying out of nowhere. Beebirds are fast flyers after all, and nobody is quicker than him. He ziped up to the perch in the ceiling and healed his tiny little breath as his mom succumbed to his illness once again.

The walls shook with each hard blow to the concrete. The rock vaporized under Dulce's fist as he momentarily lost his sense of humanity, leaving piles of rock and dust and tiny treats that fell to the ground from the impact. From the outside, his neighbors patiently waited for his outburst to end. They all knew what he was going through, and though they didn't understand what went down, this oasis of angels knew the war was nothing but horror for his people, and it seems anyone in his region who survived the final day either went into hiding, dove into vices or turned into this.

Beasts. Beasts of burden, beasts of war, their very own undertakers. Howls and screams erupted from his home as the worst parts clawed deep into Dulce's mind. Into his skin. Into his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He was being attacked, but he couldn't find who was doing it to him. Shadows surrounded him in army uniforms. One particular shadow in the shape of his priestess slowly reached for his neck as the others held his feet and thighs in place. No. Not again. This is not happening again. He knows what to do.

Bubo closed his eyes as he watched his ill mother pick up the first attempt at breakfast, still burning in the flames, with his bare hands, allowing his arms to alight in a roaring flame. The fire has always protected him. If he had fire, he had power. He had strength. He had his family, his real family. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. Bubo had to stop this. Dulce lunged at the evil priestess, beating it into ashen pieces on the ground. Suddenly a loud screech filled his eardrums and knocked him out of his hallucination.

When Dulce came to, he noticed there were 17 new holes in his poor perfect kitchen, and

His brand new coat rack was in dismay. It would cost more to fix it than to get a new one. He can never have nice things. He also noticed he was on fire. He should probably handle that.

After dousing the flames in the sink and cleaning up his clumsy mess, he whistled to his baby boy to call him over. Bubo happily flew into his mom's hands as he was showered with apologies and kisses. When he was tiny it was scary, but luckily Bubo knows his mom would never EVER hurt him on purpose, and if he does, he gets to have berries and treats and fruit all day long until he gets fat and has to go to Doctor.

It's hard taking care of his big, bald, ugly mother, but he will find a cure no matter what. No matter what it takes. Bubo is the main character of this story, a hero, and even with the world on his shoulders he will never give up. He wasn't built for hardship but by Gods he will go the distance, and this nightmare will be nothing more than a memory.

Miles away, Sammy, a total side character who doesn't matter to the story in the least as much as Bubo, turns her treadmill onto maximum overdrive, while playing her favorite album from the platinum collection by Tiffany Arrows as loud as the speakers will play them. After five minutes, she also turns on the TV.

#candy #original character #original writing #fasion #soundcloud #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #tw ptsd #SoundCloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 16

As the sunlights soft, honeyed rays gently drifted into the window pane of Dulce's damp and dull apartment. He had fallen asleep on the edge of his brand new bed. All but one of the blankets were new as well, with pillows to match. Simple cotton and hemp formed a near flat horizon. The corners were neatly tucked, only interrupted by the fraying of his oldest blanket peeking out from undwrneath it all.

He took a deep breath to get his bearings and savored the scent of sweet lemonade, no doubt coming from the fragrance sticks he had splurged on last week. He looked over to it, neatly placed on the pre installed drawer space that has come with the apartment. He had gotten those sticks for only 2 shells during an 80% off sale at the corner shop down the road. He has been eyeing them for a long time and he was filled to the brim with sweet satisfaction at his purchase.

It was only accompanied by an old photo of his family placed in a frame made of layered leaves and pine tar, and a particularly fun and kooky looking sugar crystal he had found years ago. The shape and color seemed to form a near skeletal head, and the impurities from its formation has given it a ring of orange flowers around its head and a slightly uneven, curly moustache. It would no doubt taste like an overripened banana if used, but it still brought him joy, so he decided to keep it.

He took another deep breath before deciding to stand. He had only needed 3 minutes before he was ready to rise and start his day. When he rose, he slowly reached his arms up to the hole in his ceiling, hearing several pops from his spine as the blood in his body started to rush though his veins in anticipation of his natural routine.

His own power felt electric, he let out a loud fiery roar from deep within his gut in satisfaction. The neighborhood strays heard this from outside, and slowly hobbled back to their comfy corners and cozy cardboard, as while for Dulce this was a wake up call, for the animals, it was the dinner bell.

His mind was clearing up as he walked over to his window and opened the blinds to let the soothing sun warm up his skin. While his elderly neighbor in the building next door was at first disturbed by the daily occurrence of seeing a shirtless, fat, war torn thug outside her window each morning, she had since set up the mirrors in her home to reflect his presence into to the one in her own bathroom where she could hide in a corner out of sight and watch. For the neighborhoods safety of course. Something she's been doing very diligently ever since her late husband moved on from this world.

A particularly pink beebird with bright red cheeks noticed the open window and started singing a joyous tune before fluttering down to land on Dulce's elbow. He looked down at the little thing and quietly spoke, as to not blow it away; "Well good morning Little Brother. How are you today?" He slowly lifted the tiny little thing up to his face to get a closer look. "I didn't see you around yesterday morning? Were you busy starting trouble?" The bird hopped around ant twittered a sassy response, before opening it's mouth wide, signalling that it was hungry.

He couldn't help but chuckle, as it reminded him of when he first found it. It was maybe the size of a pea when it was a baby, and he only found the poor thing when it was pushed out of its nest by its mother, straight into his lemonade. He raised it out of pity and sympathy, though he was extremely surprised when it made it past the first few days of life. Now it was the size of an apricot (give or take a few feathers) andgreedy to boot.

At this point, the bird started hopping in frustration, nibbling on the tip of his nose as if it were a treat. "Ow, okay okay I got it, you're starving! Mabye if you didn't bully the snakes all the time you wouldn'tcome home so hungry!" He turned around, deaf to his neighbors quickly muffled squeak as his festive holiday rubber duck boxers were on full display. "Let's go get some breakfast huh? You want that Bubo? Food? Hungry?You wanna eat-eat?"

At the recognition of the words 'Bubo', 'food', and 'eat-eat' the pink puffball whistled in delight and hoped up to his shoulder, eagerly awaiting it's luxurious meal of nuts, seeds, and the occasional berry. Luckily it can hunt snakes on its own, so the thing it was sitting on that was obviously its giant ugly bald mother, could eat its own snakes without sharing and being hungry all the time. Bubo knew this was the case as it's finally big and round and healthy like a good bird should be, unlike when Bubo was little. It still hasn't figured out how to stop his mama from picking out the feathers it tries to stick onto her, but he is certain that if he can fix the first thing, he can easily convince his mama to stop being a nudist at some point.

Bubo tucked into it's owners neck as they listened to the sounds of its mother, Dulce, humming his favorite tune, backed by the percussion of scoops and sizzles and the rythmic chops of a knife on the cutting board.

Bubo could tell he was putting almonds in it. Bubo hated almonds, but if he didn't eat them, he got no berries.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #soundcloud #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 15

"Good morning, Samuela Mia Giovanni, of Hous Giovanni. It is 7:30 AM. The date is Freiday, 12 of Frust 7735. The weather will be 73°, with a 30% chance of-"

Sammy awoke to the sound of digital wind chimes and the smell of citrus misting through the air. It was a part of her morning routine, her mother ordered scented misters in her room when it was being built because she believed vitamin c had a "focusing essence". Sammy didn't exactly ask for this or give her permission to have even more construction on her part of the home, but she didn't exactly ask to be born either.

She lifted herself from the bath, only slightly wrinkled due to the time she spent in the miracle water, to find that her body suddenly felt weighed hundreds of pounds. She tried to stretch her arms out into the sky and they nearly buckled under her own stiffness. She ached and groaned until she slid out like a wet oyster onto the floor. Too exhausted to stand, she blindly crawled to the closet in the corner and dried herself off which the first bit of terrycloth that collapsed onto her from the overfilled thing.

She was bombarded with the feeling of ice against her skin. This place really does get cold at night. She scooted like a worm through dirt towards the laundry hamper her maids put out during their last work day, and pulled out the same old sleeveless slip she had been wearing since middle school. She certainly should let them wash it, considering the fact that shes worn it around the house for 2 weeks straight. Nevertheless, the only one who really cares has probably gone off to yet another gala to celebrate yet another one of her empty, stolen accomplishments.

She threw on the slip and sat for a moment, slowly running her fingers along the sides of the newly damp, stained dress. The colour of the thin silk was a bright blush pink when it was tailored, but over the years had stained and darkened into a muted mauve with uneven patches of grey and mustard.

The bright blue feathers that once adorned it's hemline we're now falling out in chunks, crunchy and dry and stained like road kill. The bits of loose thread where the rhinestones used to be had become bare craters, like memories of what once was. Even the elastic barely had a grip anymore from her constant weight gain and loss with every single new diet her mother suggested.

Though today, it seemed to stay on for whatever reason.

Her throat felt like it would close when she realized how noticable it was. She knew what would happen if she kept this up, and it made her gaunt hands tremble. Her head hurt. Her stomach felt sick. She felt like she was once again falling into a spiral of lust and pain and vertigo. She would have to eat breakfast at some point.

"Good morning, Samuela Mia Giovanni, of Hous Giovanni. It is 8:25 AM. The date is Freiday, 12 of Frust 7735. Your schedule for today is-"

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #soundcloud #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload

[sweetish-original-story]

Okay, holiday break is over for me, time to get back to it!

[sweetish-original-story]

Woo! I've been on a streak lately!

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 14

1. 2. 3. 4. 

Sammy emerged from the stage of water like a swan, beautifully adorned in a clear shimmering robe and trouser set that glimmered and glowed so bright that it left rainbow in every direction should even a thread catch sunlight. The jewels that bedazzled her thinly veiled curves were the same as the ones she collected with Dulce, but cleaned and cut and polished to perfection. The gargantuan boa wrapped around her shoulders had titanium white feathers that were so light they danced with no wind, and shielded her now buzzed off hair from the cold. The only bit of darkness that touched her skin were the deep, ruby red ballet slippers and visor sunglasses, both of which perfectly color matched the red, simple dot of lipstick on her lips. 

5. 6. 7. 8. 

Sammy rises up just enough to take a few breaths of air before submerging herself again.

2. 2. 3. 4. 

Next was Dulces turn to exit the water clearly taller and more healthy than he is in reality. His locs were braided and styled with sapphires and pearls, dressed in a tailored tuxedo trimmed with silvery threads and platinum star shaped studs. The fabric his tux was made from looked to sparkle even in darkness z one could easily believe that the clothing was made from thousands of pounds of glitter all neatly woven into the thread that made it. His shoes were glass platformed loafers, giving even more inches to his newfound height. When he turned to face her, he held out hin hand, signaling her to come closer. 

5. 6. 7. 8. 

Sammy rises up again for a few more breaths. Dulce feels a bead of sweat roll down his lip, interrupting his rhythmic counting for only a second.

3. 2. 3. 4.

Sammy leaps across the stage and literally flies into Dulce's arms, landing as lightly as the feathers in her boa onto him, and he spun her around like his new bride as the sage slowly filled with prismatic clouds, his toes gently hopping around and dodging the sea snakes that continuously attempted and failed to grab at either one of them. His final leap deant them into the sky, hundreds of thousands of feet into the air, where the clouds slowly morphed from sky to blank sheets of paper. The papers started bleeding with ink, revealing divorce papers, photos of children, paternity tests and X-rays. There were news articles and deeds to endless amounts of land. Contracts, compromises, copies after copies after copies but the rising didn't stop. Soon, they were surrounded by the darkness of outer space, with nothing but a galaxy of possibilities to explore. 

5. 6. 7. 8.

Sammy rose up one more time, taking in a deep breath of air. At the very same time, so does Dulce.

4. 2. 3. 4.

Sammy looked out at the stars in awe, completely enraptured by the sublime nature of their universe. Millions of twinkling lights twirling and dancing and flashing in colors she could not even begin to describe. The sounds of children giggling and camera flashes quietly echoed from every direction, soothing her like a lullaby. Asteroids made of unfamiliar pink and orange fish flew by and left trails of fireworks behind them. When she turned her head to look down at the world they just left, it was completely covered in fabric, slowly being crushed into shape by a gigantic recreation of her mother's white sleeveless wedding dress. The silk writhed and hissed in agony tearing itself apart. The mermaid tail of it wrapped around it like a snake, crushing the mountains and spilling the seas into the desert. The citrine and peridot beads that were sculpted into scales scooped out entire cities, flattening them between their layers. 

5. 6. 7. 

The sensors in Sammy's bathroom indicate that REM sleep is soon to appear, and they signal to the bathtub to raise her head up out of the water. Dulce lowered himself to the floor, as his eyes fluttered and drifted to his floor mat. He called into his blankets and quietly prayed his friend still liked him at all, and that one day he would finally be good enough for someone. But in his mind he knew he would never truly be strong enough or brave enough or sweet enough to be anyone's number one. Not as himself. 

This is going to be a doozy.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #soundcloud #sweetish upload #SoundCloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 13

Dulce entered his humble home and haphazardly placed the baskets onto his couch, making a mental note to clean them the next morning. His heavy steps dragged him to the bathroom where he quickly washed his face in the unleveled sink, turning the water off before it could spill out onto the recently patched up floor. He always made sure most of his money went to the shop, so when it came to fixing his home, progress was slow.

Sammy took a deep breath before fully stepping into her bedroom, making a mental note to get a new hidden lock on her door, as her old one seems to no longer work. She took off her shoes and placed them into the key lime green Loki™ Decontamination Shoebox she had in her entryway. She first placed her coat on the rack, then opted to remove it and throw in on the floor, between the marks of where her bed once was, before speeding to her personal bathroom and running a bath.

Dulce removed his shirt and pants, folding them up and leaving them on his end table. He carved it himself out of some old tigerwood he found a year back, out on the edge of the forest when looking for seasonal fruits to candy. He realized he was a bit thinner then, more lean and cut. He wasn't sure if it was because most people were still struggling to get back on their feet after the war ended, or if perhaps his body was aging early like his father warned. He stared deeply into his own reflection. The evenly placed scars around his chest, some sewn and some healed. The near ebony black of the permanent burns on his arms. The dried tangles of his old locs and what used to be his good eye now seems duller, more unfocused before he winces and covers it back up. In his mind he curses himself for nearly giving himself a migraine. Ignoring the the aching of nearly all of his muscles, he turns around and grabs the archway of his door, lifting himself up and down. Pull ups would surely sooth his mind.

Sammy undressed herself, leaving her clothes wherever they may lie. The maids where scheduled to clean tomorrow morning so she didn't care. Her bath was huge, nearly as large as the bed if not for a few inches. It was carved from the very same marble stone that made up the flooring, and luckily for her it was too heavy for her mother to remove. As a child she invited her freinds over, and all 7 of them were able to fit themselves and their siblings inside with room to spare. If she wanted, she could easily drown in it. She dumped more than enough body wash, shampoo, bubble solution and preservative moisturizer into the water to mummify herself into a bar of soap. She also decided to dump her skin routine and revitalizing oils into it as well. Soon the automatic sensors clicked on, stopping the flow of water, lowering the lights to just how she liked them, heating everything in the room to a cozy temperature before she stepped in and submerged herself into the swirling pink and green void.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #soundcloud #sweetish upload #SoundCloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 12

Dulce got home much later than he meant to, and though he made a habit not to show it on his face, his muscles ached from the huge amount of sugar he had to once again carry from the cave to his shack. He usually only needs to do this once a month at the most, but lately it feels like every couple of weeks with how things have been lately.

He tries not to curse himself for breaking boundaries with Sammy earlier, he's usually very tense around people but as Sammy was his first friend in a very long time, he had just assumed that it was okay after she pinched him so hard. He's not as good as reading signals as everyone credits him for, he just had plenty of experience when it came to work and serious situations. But not this.

Sammy had given him an odd look after what he did. He played it off well but he still feels regret over reacting at all. Back home biting your friends was just a normal thing to do, to tease and play. Children were sometimes called "guppies" or "gup" because the local Sweetish Fish, when young, were just as playful, jumping out of the water and nibbling on anything they found even the slightest bit interesting. People would keep them as pets in their handmade ponds, even their pantheon of Gods and spirits have the little cuties as one of them. "The God of hope and miracles" they call it.

If he were talking to someone like his cousin or his uncle he would have been able to recall the name but after all this time his own language is starting to fade from his lips. He made it such a point to remember everything, always, and yet every time he spends time with Sammy and makes a new, gentle memory, one of the old painful ones seems to slip his mind. Mabye a few years ago this would have pained him severely, then him into a depressive rage, but after learning what has become of his home and his people by their own doing, he's slowly begining to entertain the idea that it may be for the best.

He places the baskets down beside him making yet another indent in the dirt, and as he unlocks the rusted door and opens it, the overwhelming saccharine stench of loneliness, grief, and regret completely overtook the sweetness of the crystals sitting patiently beside him. Until Sammy showed up, only the candies brought him comfort. The only warmth he felt was in the kitchen or at his shop, and everything else felt either alien or dead.

He lifts the baskets yet again and, with a deep sigh, enters the darkness to sleep once again and wait for his sun to rise.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #soundcloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 11

*squeak, squeak, squeak*

Sammy's shoes hesitantly squeaked down the halls of her dark and giant family home, echoing louder than the cavern she was just in an hour ago. For as cold and pristine the ivory prison was, her presence was like a warm candlight over a dark blue candle. A candle with ragged hair and a new, soon to bruise bite mark on her neck that she would have to cover with makeup. Out of all the time they spent together, that was the last reaction she expected. He just stuck his tongue out at her like at her like a teasing child before saying something about meeting up tomorrow and left as if it were nothing. Not one crystal spilled out.

Sammy recalled something about his people being more physical than her own but that was...

The heat radiating from her cheeks were almost as bright as the light on her phones flashlight, tightly gripped in her manicured hands.

She always hated manicures, they take far too long and every time she had an idea in her head about what she wanted, her mother would bombard her with a million more she has to sift through. Eventually she loses her will and becomes overwhelmed with what she could do. In the end she's paralyzed with the weight of the decisions and ends up going with a blank white canvas, as always, her first and safest choice. What would have been a 15 minute appointment always takes 2 hours. If her mother would just let her do things her way, she wouldn't have so many problems.

Her mother. The witch. The snake. The... ugly... mean... shrimp? Yeah. Shrimp is good. And she smells like it too. She must be here. She'll have to face her soon. There's no avoiding her. Her body involuntary shudders, and as her blood slowly turns to ice she recalls the events that played out earlier that evening. She is the one who owns this cage she has to return to every night. She has tried to find places to live but they were never good enough for her mother and every new detail Eleanorpicked at would throw her into a world of doubt. She would just give up in the end, all these choices are never the right one. At this point Sammy has a hard time knowing if any of her work is really hers, or just the voice of her mother echoing throughout her head telling her what SHE would have done.

Except with Dulce.

She's never wrong with him. He's always so detailed with how he goes about things, and yet there's never a doubt in his mind on whether she "meant to do that" or "say it that way". It's like he's in her head sometimes, but as a soothing presence, not at all like the silent venom she is used to skipping around. A hardened timberwolf who decided to befriend and play instead of devour. Although she has to admit she would love to capture an image of him really showing his strength.

Her mind trails off into images of her freind defeating some evil demon king fire erupting from his fist and incinerating the monster before she herself runs up to him and dramatically falls into his arms. As her muscle memory leads her back to her personal prison, clad in the finest silk and velvet her mother could nag her to buy, the squeaks echo faster and lighter. Her head was filled with Sakura flowers and her cheeks were bright once again, she was ready to fall onto her giant and in the safety of her covers and roll around in the romantic dreams she will be having, picking flowers in her mind to foretell whether her infatuation was reciprocated. If they would run away together to the mountains and frolick in the tulips and-

As she turns the knob to her room, all of her daydreams were brought to a screeching hault as she now realizes why her mouth never bothered to get up and answer the door. She was already making her wrath known, and sent a clear message about how she felt about earlier today.

Her bed was gone. Her 30 pound 7000 shell bed, made of the rarest fabrics and cottons, screwed into the wall, was gone.

#SoundCloud #candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #soundcloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 10

After picking up the batch Dulce was ready to go back, but Sammy, in her endless curiosity, had a different idea.

"Hey," she inquired, "what's further down?"

As Dulce lifted up a bunch of full, having baskets, ten in each arm all heavy like bricks of gold, he looked puzzled at this question, and could only respond with a "Huh?" On the first take.

Sammy asks again. "What's further down in the cave? Is it just more crystals?"

"Oh uh," he desperately tried to find the right words for this. He hadn't been prepared for this. What is he supposed to say? That it's a crypt? That there's dead bodies and ghosts? Underwater cave ghosts?

If he told her, she would want to go see, take pictures and ultimately disturb his ancestors. If she did that she would post pictures and would unknowingly feed into the racist conspiracies that he and his people are just cannibalistic savages, who only care for greed and gluttony. Is it possible to be banished twice? After what he did, they may end up just beheading him. His culture is, unfortunately, not shy about what they do to "pariahs". It's how they kept the peace all this time. Or more so, kept things under the rug.

Then again if he didn't tell her, she would know it's important. He could lie and say it was nothing, but to her even 'nothing' could be transformed into a portrait of beauty and elegance. She would find it eventually, and again, underwater cave ghost conspiracy.

Or, knowing how she is when unfocused, she could simply get lost and die. Or get lost and get diabetes and die. Or be killed by some rogue soldier who didn't know the war had ended, if there are any left. Or get kidnapped by some theorist who decided to take things too far. Or be eaten by cannibalistic underwater cave ghosts.

Mabye that last one is a stretch, but there are a LOT of his ancestors down in those depths. Or maybe Sammy's cartoon obsession is just rubbing off on him.

When he finally came up with a good half truth, he felt like a con artist. "It's holy land. We aren't allowed any deeper." Good, good. That's technically not a lie. It certainly didn't feel good, but it was the best choice he had.

"Aww, darn." She sighed with dismay, before lifting only two half full bags only to drop one from the sheer weight of it. When Dulce realized how easy it was for her to believe it, his stomach dropped with the same amount of weight.

For once, her slender frame seemed to be keeping her from achieving her goal instead of being a shortcut. "How are you doing that?"

"Doing what? This?" He starts to flex, posing and stretching, lifting the baskets as if they weighed nothing at all. Sammy can't help but laugh at this ridiculous, tiny little Mr. Universe in front of her, causing her to drop the second basket. "Yes, that. How did you get so bi- I mean strong?" Her cheeks turned pink at her own mistake. She certainly didn't mean he was fat. She likes fat. Or no, he looks good fat. Or he's not fat. Unless that's a good thing? Is it? Is that racist? Is she racist?

Dulce takes a deep breath to ignore the slip, and answers with conviction. "My body," he started "is the body that was given to me by my people, my ancestors and by my Gods. It's strong and warm and full. I look like my Gods and I am sculpted like sand by the of the very ocean itself, my ocean, therefore I am already perfect. I know around here 'beauty standards' may be a little different than what I grew up with," he continues as he steps back toward the entrance, "but back home aside from this outfit, you probably wouldnt be able to tell me apart from most guys. I'm actually considered quite pretty back home."

As they exit the cave and are nearly blinded by the bright and full moonlight, one question rung in Sammy's head.

Only back home, huh?

Her eyes, either in attempt to escape the moons rays or as yet another slip, slid down from his mighty arms, to is full and wide back, down to the star stickers on his well filled back pockets she so tenderly hand sewn onto her old school uniform slacks. They seemed to fit him much better than they fit her.

Her hands are free now, save for her folded coat and blouse, as the baskets were too heavy for her to hold. If only... He's so close, if she could just...

"OW!!!"

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #soundcloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 9

After what felt like a long few minutes, longer every time Dulce comes here, finally he touches the tree that marks the edge between the shore and the forest, luckily unmarked by the border.

Dulce patted the trunk and declared in a proud tone, finally free from the cage of anxiety that silently haunted him, "Here it is!"

"Here it is? " Sammy repeated.

Out of nowhere he lifted the flowing skirt of leaves with with no shame or hesitation, revealing a cove that was full of miles and miles of opalescent crystals.

The size of an earring stud to the size of small home, they all looked as if they were glowing. Dulce knew this is what she was stunned by, and decided to tell her what his father told him when he first entered the cave.

"Some say that these crystals are so bright and pure that they reflect any light that enters for 2 million years. Come on, let's get a few."

Dulce took off his shoes and left them on a crystal that looked like it was dull and dirtied. Sammy followed suit. They rolled up their pants and stepped into the crystal clear spring water puddles of the cave, purified by thousands of years of sand and stalactites. The only signs of people were baskets and odd symbols carved into the rock.

There was a burst of air that hit Sammy's lungs, so saccharine sweet it nearly candied her insides, and her mouth began to drool so much that by the time she noticed, she had already added a drop or two into the water before covering her mouth in embarrasment.

Dulce patted her back before entering the cave himself, leaving the leaves behind to hide the entrance once again.

A long time ago it affected him too, but his body had gotten so used to it over the years that he barely notices the shift anymore.

"Alright," Dulce started. "So what your gonna want to do is-"

"Hey hey hey, I'm helping you, remember?" Sammy interrupted, full of vim and vigor.

She proceeded to wrap her coat around her waist and tie her hair up.

"Let me be your knight in your time of need, my darling, you shant lift even a finger until my debt to you is repaid."

She then unbuttoned her blouse and marched like a soldier toward the ones that looked the most ripe, intending to gather them into one of the baskets she had picked up.

"Alright, fine, you don't need my help." He responded in a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Harvest away, oh brave and noble knight."

Fifteen minutes had gone by and she only managed to shake loose ten puny rocks. It was impossible to tell what was ready and what wasn't. Dulce had been sitting with his arms behind his head on a smooth boulder of sweetness.

He finally decided to give her determination a break and piped up;

"There's an easier way. "

Sammy turned around in relief. "Oh thank goodness." She sighed, letting go of the act.

Dulce closed his eyes and gently felt at the wall beside him. His hand stopped at a point, made a fist and in one swing cracked a full crystal into pieces, causing a chain reaction that shook bits and peices from the ceiling right into the water, like a shower rainbow colored pearls.

Sammy's relief faded into bewilderment.

"Why," she asked, barely able to register the prank he pulled, "why didn't you do that the whole time?"

He took the time to answer as carefully as he could. "Well I was going to," he stated "but then you took your shirt off."

The next thing Dulce knew, the world had gone dark and his face was covered in two different fabrics and a pile of sugar crystals. All he could hear was her frustration and laughter.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #SoundCloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 8

*click*

Her camera goes off, a flash of light followed by the sound of its internal computer digitizing the photo. Dulce was hypnotized by the green liquid that shimmered and flowed through it's crystal clear pipes. It always enraptured him to watch the picture develop.

When the

*chirp*

finally went off it signaled that the photo was done and he came closer to take a look.

A silken sky that bled into an ombre of royal purple to maroon to marigold, twinkling full of rhinestone stars, red and gold and blue. It all melted gently down, only broken up by cotton clouds, to a bright blinding belt of gold before reversing itself in waves, effortlessly dancing against the invisible wind. The chic and textured hemline pulled the whole look together in a modern yet artistic A-line gown, underlined with a pale coral petticoat adorned with a delicate sandy motif, lightly freckled with multicolored shells.

"Well, drown me."

Dulce was always so impressed with everything Sammy made, no matter how simple. The way she could take a moment and make it look like a portal to a perfect world at the perfect time felt like magic to him. At first she thought it was simply because he had moved away from South Lumen Forest and couldn't adjust but no, she was simply a savant in his eyes.

She also noticed he thought she was an idiot at times. Like how she didn't know butter came from a plant, unlike what she learned from her 'alien cartoons'.

Humantai. It's CALLED humantai. He's an idiot for not knowing THAT. Or how he had to ask her just now if she really wanted to delete that photo. Wait what?

She stumbled with the camera before saving the picture and stuffing it into her pocket, and very very casually leaning on the bike in attempt to flirt again.

"You know, I only take pictures of the things I find gorgeous, gorgeous." She sent a kiss though the air and and a sultry wink right after, all accompanied by her pretending to take a picture.

Dulce was stone faced. "Cute." Was all he could bring himself to say. To anyone else but him, they would have taken her seriously, fallen in love, only to have their hearts devoured like a line of candy wrappers leading to a chocolate covered child. But no, he knew her enough by now to know that she just watches too many cartoons.

It's not that he didn't like attention, he just found it better when she was herself instead of trying to put on a front.

He's not friends with the Samuela superstar photographer, the cassanova, the princess of fashion. He's friends with Sammy, who almost deleted the picture of the sunset, Sammy who left the house perfectly ready with everything except for her own car, only to forget her keys in them at the event. Sammy who once called him in the middle of the night crying because some cartoon hairdresser wanted to find a HairPiece and had his brother died?

She has relaxed quite a bit over the six months they've known each other, but old habits die hard and she still tries to flirt to distract him from her natural goofiness.

He doesn't remember ever saying being goofy was a bad thing.

What he can't deny is that she does it well, and it's better than the attention he usually gets.

They step off the bike and head south, Sammy clicking away at boring little dust crystals and bits of broken Counterfit Shells, completely oblivious to the fact that the man leading her was a little tenser than before. He tiptoed around the sharp shells, controlling his breath.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #SoundCloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 7

They rode down the cobblestone hills on a hydroelectric bike Sammy rented, with Sammy taking the lead. On the other hand, Dulce was behind her, gripping tightly to her lean but growing waist, desperately trying his hardest not to fall off and embarrass himself around his new friend. He was honestly surprised when she told him that everyone in her part of the city just knew how to ride them, to activate them since childhood.

When he saw her show off her glowing tattoo and rent it out without even reaching in her purse, he felt a sense of shame wash over him like a slow, growing flood. Here he was inviting her to FORAGE of all things, when it's clear she's never touched dirt before.

As he looked up at her from behind, he took notes of so many details he had noticed but never realized we're a direct result of her class.

Her hair smelled and looked synthetic, clean and softer than cotton. Without gel it flowed like flower petals in the wind. Her clothes always looked new, even if he knew she's worn them before. They felt like they were made of starlight, warping and reflecting every light that zoomed by, like the lakes of his home.

She smelled like ocean water.

He closed his eyes. He reminisces on the days back when he was just a child, before puberty when he still had his tail, when he and his father would go to the beach and collect sugar crystals and counterfit Sellshells to survive. The war seemed to only effect those who chose not to participate.

His father said it was on purpose. A sacrifice.

His childlike mind could only understand it as more stupid rules.

As they dunked the pan into the water once again, he felt hot frustration well up in his cheeks, knowing that no matter what, he and his father will only be left with the crumbs of their labor.

But he didn't let himself cry. Big boys don't cry. And he was a big boy. Un niño grande. GRANDE.

He wanted to cry.

Of course, back then everyone else did too. Of course they wanted to. But they needed to focus.

To feed the beast.

This lead to a much more recent memory of him working in his shop. Organizing treats by size, flavor and color. Every little truffle and lollipop was perfectly placed, ready to be sold and enjoyed bite by mouthwatering bite. If it weren't for him losing his appetite on them long ago, half because a good chef always tastes his recipes and half because of him having to eat his own candies to survive the first few months he left home, he would have eaten them all himself.

Every tool and pictureframe shined like new.

The decor was perfectly preserved and presentable. Anything important had at least 12 replacements, and if not, he was finally in the place where buying another didn't mean starvation or ignoring illnesses. He even had a fresh new pack of protective gloves he kept in case his sense of touch came back. It won't, but his father has been...wrong... before. At least once.

From across the shop he heard the deafening but necessary ring of the bell, and two rather young customers enter the shop. Or at least he thought they were customers.

"That war didn't happen dude, I'm telling you it's all a conspiracy!"

Oh no. No no no.

"Oh really? And what would they have to gain over pretending they have no food, no water, and literal gas scars all over them."

"Sympathy Ryan! Those M*dskippers..."

M*dskippers. How bold. Of course he says that out loud, directly across from him in HIS shop. These conspiracy theorists are always that of two kinds. The ones who want to "civilize" him, and the ones who think he's a literal fish person.

"Those M*dskippers want us to feel bad so they can take all of our shells through 'reperations' for some made up war that never even happened."

The boy pointed to his temples as if he were making some smart argument." If it did, why didn't they show it on the the screens, why aren't there lessons about it in school?"

He wanted to take the molten chocolate and throw it across the room.

His friend seemed to have some sense, though. "Because that's how winning a war looks like Kevin. We weren't effected because we WON. Dumbass."

Dulce changed his mind on the molten chocolate.

The one named Ryan crossed his arms. "Look, when Brittany gets here, we'll just go up and ask, and you can stop being stupid!"

Oh great. There's going to be a third one.

And right on cue, like a bad sitcom or a book who's writer has a big dictionary and very little experience, the supposed 'Brittany' opened the door, causing another ring of the bell.

Necessary. It's definitely necessary.

All this ringing made him feel like he was going to have a migraine.

Their blue eyed friend entered the conversation seamlessly.

"Hey guys, did you buy anything yet?

Oh my masters, is that the GUY?"

Dulce turned around to re-re organize his stock. As long as they didn't look at his face, perhaps he could make it out of this.

"They really DO have those burns! To be honest I always thought they were all dead!" She seemed very proud of that sentence.

"Brittany!!!" The first two shouted in unison.

"No no I mean it looks cute! Like in a sexy golem or a zombie in one of those movies you hide under the bed. I wonder if our kids would have those."

"Brittany, GROSS!" Ryan cringed at the suggestion. Dulce found this offensive, but he didn't want to stir the pot. He's not even sure he knows how.

Kevin on the other hand found this completely hilarious but, Dulce had a feeling that the humor he found in this wasn't about him being twice the girls age.

Three. There are three kinds.

Suddenly his memories echoed and shook like an earthquake to a loud but familiar voice.

"Okay D., we're here! Where is this cave you wanted to show me?"

Samuela.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #soundcloud #SoundCloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 6

After things finally calmed down, the two step out, arms interlocked to keep each other steady, swaying from the emotional exhaustion, they saw the even was over. The table that heald their display was completely empty, ravaged save for some sprinkles and a few sellshells left out on the table.

"Oh no, your setup!" Shouted Dulce, his tone full of regret and remorse. "I'm so sorry, I should have closed it down or-"

"No no it's okay, people must have really liked your candies. Trust me, I can make a million more of these. I have the money."

"I'm sorry that happened,"she continued, "and that you wasted all that material on this." Sammy was so embarrassed. She wasn't sure if it was over her mother or her outburst, but she just had to fix this.

"I didn't think she would be here, she never is and I would have never brought you here if I knew. I know you have problems with money and, and I can pay for all of this if-"

Dulce gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, truly."

Sammy was clearly not satisfied.

"Okay. Hey, if you really want to make it up to me..."

He looked up at the sky. It was twilight.

"Why don't you help me start collecting the ingredients I need to replace all of this. Say...right now?"

"Now?" It was Sammy's turn to be baffled. "What could we possibly pick up now?"

It was at this he smirked. "Only the most important ingredient; sugar crystals!"

Sammy had never heard him actually sound excited before. She couldn't help but be curious as always.

"So where do we get these sugar crystals? What makes them crystals and not just sugar? Do they taste good? Can you eat them?"

"It's just a-"

"How many do we need? Is this something about your history?

"The cave isn't fa-"

"Ooh is the spot pretty? Do you think we are able to get a few photo-"

"SAMMY!!!"

She was silent. But not scared. He always seemed to have this incredible ability to stop things in their tracks. He had the aura of a Hotbear, steaming with calm and controlled power. A king of the jungle, retired but not yet out of commission.

In that moment of silence, she could wear the air smelled warm and sweet, with a hint of nuts.

"Would you like to go with me to the beach or not?"

Of course she would.

#candy #original character #fasion #original writing #sweetish original #romance #sweetish upload #soundcloud

[sweetish-original-story]

Note to self, don't post half asleep 😭🤣💀 I made so many mistakes apon the first upload of the story, I'm so sorry I completely forgot a chapter but it should be fixed now! Enjoy reading Sweetish! Share it with your friends! There will be more soon!