skeleton for the first few chapters of the AC green is done, started the writing process last night, should have something tangible in a few days. in the meantime, a jam green i wrote for a general that wasn't meant to be

>A miracle writhes within your restless maw, no less than nectar; candied divinity.
>The corners of your mouth curl devilishly of their own volition as the buds on your tongue throw themselves into every last speck of the wondrous ambrosia.
>You cannot be without it. You cannot /live/ without it.
>A balm for your very soul. Should you be without it, you cannot say what would become of you.
>Whatever god presides over this world - and all others - must be tender of heart indeed.
>What a boon to the world, this is. Your soul swells, drowning out all the-
>“Um… Anon?”
>The stupor all but disappears as you’re brought crashing back down from the lofty heights of heaven.
>Even still, you’ve a fog about you; so much so that you’ve forgotten just where you are.
>Putting your head on a swivel brings a busy corner of Ponyville’s market street into view, lines in front of each of the shops disrupting the otherwise steady flow of the main cobblestone road.
>Winter always bogs your hometown with foreign traffic. Ordinarily, you would take issue with the volume of ponies crowding every nook and cranny of conceivable space, but you pay no mind; today is a special case.
>The air is lighter than usual - gone is the heavy-set chill of deep winter. Just as well, there’s something… /heady/ about everything as of late.
>It’s strikingly prevalent in the way couples gaze longingly upon each other; every movement, every expression a brushstroke of love and adoration.
>In more brazen folk, the flighty whims of tenderness condense down into a thicker, more voracious compulsion.
>That was decently rare, though. The few you did see giving into temptation eventually turned tail to somewhere more private whenever they were called out on it.
>“Hellooooo…?”
>Huh?
>Oh, right.
>Without much fanfare, you corral the rest of the blueberry ginger jam down your throat, unable to stop yourself from grunting in abject ecstasy.
“Good lord, Hughbert. I mean, /wow/.”
>A dopey grin overtakes his previously perturbed features.
>“I’m glad you like it,” he says, screwing the lid of the jar shut. “Considering it’s a gift, it’s on the house.”
>He slides the jar over to your end of the counter, where it’s taken into your eager clutches.
>Free…?
>Is he insane? He should be charging thirty bits for this jar /alone/.
“Hugh, dude, you gotta let me pay for this. It’s too good to just give away like that.”
>He shakes his head.
>“It’s not from me, actually. Rainbow Dash stopped by a few days ago and custom-ordered it herself, said to give it to you whenever it was ready.”
>The heavenly jam’s origin gives you pause.
>She must have felt bad about not being able to hang out before she went on tour with the Wonderbolts.