#and then the beginners were in neat rows on their turn

[cowboyishbabe]

Class was kinda wild

[skzdarlings]

Chan with ❛ that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me. ❜

summary: your husband is a university professor. when you sit in on one of his lectures, it gives both of you an idea...

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: husband!chan, kinky professor/student roleplay, though reader is his wife and not actually a student. dom!chan, sub!reader, degrading language (stupid, dumb, slut). corruption kink, power dynamics kink. explicit sexual content. word count: 2380 words.

part of the valentine's day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

-

Chan is giving a lecture when you reach the university.   You kill some time and grab a coffee, ambling around campus and idling in corridors until your wandering leads you to his hall.  The main doors are propped open, likely for air circulation with the spring heat, and you smile at his voice spilling into the hallway. 

It is a big lecture hall.  He is teaching a beginner level so the class is substantially large, a couple hundred freshman packed inside.  No one will notice an extra presence.  There are a few empty seats scattered across the back row so you slip inside and quietly take one. 

You like seeing Chan in his element.  Your husband is something of a chameleon, spending his down time in hoodies and baseball caps, listening to music and giggling at his own goofy jokes.  You almost forget his professional side, his prestigious and academic character.  He loves his research and his work and his students and it shows in every remark and gesticulation.  

You adore him.  His passion and intelligence never cease to amaze you.

Though right now your loving attention strays to his appearance.  You must admit: your husband is a hottie.  You suspect the tittering co-eds in the first few rows are not as interested in statistical analysis as their rapt attention might suggest.

Professor Bang Chan stands at the front of the hall, dressed down to his shirtsleeves.  His suit jacket has been tossed over the desk.  His pants are pressed, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but his neat black hair is just this side of dishevelled, like he has been running his fingers through it. 

You slouch in your seat and smile a cheesy smile as you watch him work. 

He looks around the hall as he lectures, attentive to every student.   In his perusal, his eyes skim the back row.  They stop on you.   

“And that’s why we, uh, ah…” He stumbles so noticeably that a few heads turn to see what caught his eye.   He laughs and waves, drawing their attention again.  “Sorry, sorry, as I was saying…”    

Your smile only widens.  There is a little flutter in your heart as your husband looks at you with a glimmer in his eye.  You rest your head on your fist and watch the rest of the lecture without any interruption.  

You stay seated when it ends and the students file out.  Chan lingers by his desk to sort his papers.  You just admire him for a moment, then you make your way down the aisle.  He lifts his head, smiling at you.

“Hey, stranger,” he says, shrugging on his jacket.  “You’re early.” 

“Yeah, I thought traffic would be worse.”  

“Hungry?”

“Definitely, Professor,” you say.  Your original plans were dinner, but you lift an eyebrow while smirking, suggesting a different kind of hunger entirely. 

It makes him laugh, a nervous sort of laugh.  You are charmed by the tips of his ears turning red, a testament to your ability to fluster your man well into your marriage. 

“What’s wrong, Professor?” you ask, reaching up to touch his face.   “Aren’t you hungry too?”

He stares back at you for a moment.  His gaze is resolute despite his faint blush.  You cannot help your delight. 

“Ooh,” you say.  “Do you like it when I call you Professor, Professor?”

He finally takes your hand and lowers it. 

“I’m a professional,” is what he says, which is definitely not an answer to the question you asked.  He kisses your cheek before you can protest his reply, then he winks and grabs his bag.  “Come on,” he says, “I just have to put some stuff in my office.  Then we’ll go grab dinner.” 

You suspend your teasing for the time being, talking about your day as you cross campus in the sunshine.  You take the stairs up to the office floor, winding around the labyrinthine assembly of empty offices.  It is quite late in the afternoon, plenty of people seemingly packed up and gone for the day. 

He unlocks his office and lets you both in.  While he goes to his desk to sort his stuff, you close and lock the door.  He does not notice your deliberate movements, still talking about mundane nothings.  You do love your endless conversations, whether casual or important, but right now you are less preoccupied with Channie than Professor Chan.  There is something about seeing your husband like this, smart, competent, confident, and so in charge of his space. 

“Baby girl?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow at your slow, slinky approach.  “What’s up?” 

You circle the desk and lay a hand on his chest, smoothing your palm down his lapel.  You swear his eyes somehow darken, narrowing in focus, his whole expression coloured differently than before. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“I know you’re married, Professor,” you say, blinking oh-so innocently at him.  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… it’s just that I… I need…”

He lets you nudge him back onto the desk chair behind him.  He gazes up as you lean over him. 

“Baby,” he says, warningly, but does not move or push your hands away. 

“We’re all alone, Professor,” you say.  “The door is locked.  No one will ever find out.” 

“Ah. Is that right?” he asks, looking like he is on the verge of giggles.  He sighs instead, dropping his chin and shaking his head, playfully disappointed.  With another breath, he lifts his head, and your sweet husband dons a more predatory air.   

He does not even have to say anything, does not even have to touch you.  He just has to look at you with all that desire in his eyes, turning your insides molten.  Every dirty thought is plain in how he checks you out.

“I saw you looking at me in class today,” you say, breathless already.  “Did you think I looked pretty, Professor?”                                         

“I think,” he says, “I was impressed you were sitting there, actually listening for once.”

You open your mouth to retort, but he touches a shushing finger to your lips.  He shakes his head. 

“Nuh-uh,” he says.  “Tell me what you want before I throw you out of my office.”  He cups your jaw, his gaze so clearly centred on your lips. 

“Oh, please, don’t do that,” you say.  “I need you, Professor.  I mean, I need your help.”

“I think you’re beyond help, baby girl,” he says.  He momentarily breaks character to glance at the wall, then he looks at you with a quirked brow.  “We are at my work, maybe we should—”

“I know you,” you reply.  

Because you do.  You and your husband are no strangers to roleplay or kinky fun, your desires and boundaries and safewords known.  Your backside is still tender from a good spanking the night before, just enough to leave you squirming today.  You were pent-up before you even saw Professor Chan administering his lecture.  But now that you have, now that you are here, you cannot let it go.  And given the way he is looking at you, he feels the same way.

“You’ve been hard since I called you Professor in the lecture hall,” you say. 

“Since I saw you sitting in my classroom, actually,” he corrects.  “I could fill in the rest with my own imagination.  Just… looking at you…”  He takes another breath and looks you over.  His gaze is heady.  “God, you just get me going every time, you know that?” 

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say with another smirk.  Then you pout, batting your eyelashes, as you sink to your knees in front of him.  “Please, Professor,” you say.  “I’m begging you.  I need a good grade or else.  I’ll do anything.” 

“Anything,” he says.  “That’s, ah… that’s a bold statement.  Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am,” you say.  You clasp your hands.  “Anything at all.” 

“You know, a man who is not as nice me could do bad things to you, baby.   A pretty girl like you.  It’s like you want someone to take advantage of you, yeah?”  He cups your jaw and tilts your face up, looking at your mouth thoughtfully, smiling as he circles his thumb over your lips.  “They could be really mean to you,” he says.  “Make you do things you don’t like.  Maybe even hurt you, baby.”

“But you wouldn’t do those things,” you say with a watery sniffle.  “You’re a good professor. I can trust you.”

“Of course you can,” he says.  With his thumb, he tugs your bottom lip down.  It flips back up with a bounce.  “I’ll help you then, if you do what I say.”

“Oh yes, of course, Professor, anything,” you say. You start to stand when he puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“Naw, naw,” he says.  “You stay there for me.”

“On my knees?”  You blink up at him.  “What for?” 

“Tsk.  Baby.  You know what for.”  He pats your head like he would an especially dumb puppy.  “You’re just a pretty face,” he says, “but you’re not that stupid.  You know what you’re good for at least, don’t you?”   

He cups your chin.  Before you can reply, his thumb is forcing its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You wrap your lips around it, staring up at him while sucking diligently. 

“That’s it,” he says, and slides free with a wet little pop.  “Good job.  See?”  He speaks with saccharine sweetness, completely condescending as he pats your cheek.  “You are good at something.”  He unbuttons your shirt with deft swiftness, your breasts already heaving in your low-cut bra when he pushes the material off your shoulders.  He laughs to himself as he says, “It’s just the only thing you’re good at is being a dumb slut, but that’s okay, yeah?” 

“I… I guess…”

“Shh, it’s okay.”  He covers you whole mouth with his hand, tugging you close while he undoes his belt with the other.  “You don’t need to talk,” he says.  “No one needs to hear what you think.  Open your mouth for me.   That’s a good girl.  Come on.  You can take it.” 

With a shuffle, he gets his pants open and partially down, enough to get himself out.  He is already rock hard as he guides you forward, sliding into your waiting mouth.  He grunts with deep, obvious pleasure. 

He lets you take over, sitting back while you suck his cock with expert knowledge of exactly what he likes, when to take him deep, when to lick and suck and swallow.  You stop for a breath and his cock smacks your cheek.  Then suddenly he is standing and taking you with him, wasting no time bending you over his desk. 

“Professor!” you say, pushing your ass out with your theatrically scandalized cry.  “Oh no, sir, I’ve never done this before, please, ahh—”   

He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through all the wet arousal there.  He slides two fingers into you easily, with no resistance at all.  He leans down and laughs against the nape of your neck.

“I find that hard to believe,” he says, fucking you steadily with his hand.  “I think I’m not the only professor you’ve done this for, am I, baby?” 

“Ohh,” is all you manage, out of character and genuinely moaning as he works you towards a quick orgasm.  “Channie, you’re gonna make me come,” you warn, wriggling. 

Your moans turn to pathetic little whimpers when he wraps a strong arm around you, locking you in place as he lines up behind you. 

“What’s that?” he asks, holding you tight.  It stops you from writhing while he pushes his wet dick inside you, inch by slow inch.  “I’m not Channie, am I?” he says.  “What do you call me?  Huh?  Dumb little girl.”  He swats your ass and you yelp, clenching around him.  “Try again,” he says. 

“Oh, Professor,” you say.  Then you cannot help but giggle, recalling his evasion when you teased him in the lecture hall.  The evidence of his desire says it all.  “That really does make you hard,” you laugh, breathlessly, “I can feel you pulsing inside me.”

You squeak when he pushes you down onto the desk, holding your hips as he thrusts into you with more vigour.  Then you are not saying anything, just moaning and riding out every quick snap of his hips.  You are not sure how he manages to find the softest, squishiest, more sensitive place inside you, every time, no matter the place or position, sending you hurtling towards to an orgasm at breakneck speed. 

“Oh, help, Professor, I’m gonna—”

“Me too, baby,” he says.  “All inside you.”

“Ohh, fuck—”  You come with a shuddering convulsion, twitching and clenching, your eyes closed as you pant into the wooden surface of his desk.  Your orgasm ends and he is still fucking you, drawing it out.  Your voice is guttural, low and breathy as you say, “Professor, be careful, we have no protection…”

He lifts you up, arches your back, and covers your mouth.

“I… told… you…”  He punctuates each sound with a hard thrust.  “To… be… quiet…” 

Then he drives into you and stays there, groaning into your neck as he comes and comes.   When his hand drops, you take in a gulp of air, shivering from the aftershocks of pleasure.  You are spilling out of your bra from all the jostling, your skirt in disarray.  You whimper when he pulls out of you, then again when he just covers you back up with your panties.  They are soaked in a second. 

“Maybe, uh,” he says with one of his funny, embarrassed, little giggles.  “Maybe we should stop by home and clean up before we go for dinner.” 

You giggle too, turning around to face him.  You fix your shirt while he tucks himself back into his pants.  He is already blushing and smiling that dimpled smile, looking all sweet and goofy as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out on his desk. 

“Good idea,” you say.  “That’s why you’re the professor.” 

He laughs.  Looking at you fondly, he cups your cheek and pulls you in for a long, tender kiss.    

[meepmoopmaap]

Will u plz….

Make a pt.2 for dating advise for dummies?

No pressure tho, take your time, it’s fine if your busy I was just wondering bc it’s so good but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s ok I swear

Fuck yeah! Also I understand the whole being overly nice thing, bc asking people for things is scary lol-, but you could bust into my ask box with a water gun demanding a sequel if you wanted to

Asking people out, a guide for beginners (Iida x yn, pt. 2)

a sequel to Dating Advice for Dummies

It had been a few days since Iida tried to talk to you, and he had never had the courage to do it again, he tried to go up to you after you led him to the book, but he could never bring himself to do it.

But, on that cold Tuesday morning, Iida decided that today would be the day that Iida made a move. Without being seen by you, Iida snuck his way to the poetry section, a section he knew you loved, and picked out a book of love poems.

Knowing you'd be at the front desk, Iida began to confidently stride towards the front of the building, but as he did he felt this curl of unease in his chest. A little worm of doubt wiggled in his brain, telling him 'what if y/n led you to that book to tell you that you were awful at talking to them?'

Before he could turn back, he was already at the desk, shocked to find one of the other guys that worked at the library. He chuckled, handing Iida a slip of paper. "Here, y/n told me to give it to you."

Iida nervously unfolded it, it was the section, row, and general location of another book. His hands shook as he walked towards the other side of the library, worried that he'd go to the legal section and find a book on harassment lawsuits.

But instead, Iida found himself in the self help section, close to where the last book was found. He blushed even more as he found the book you wanted him to find. "Asking people out, a guide for beginners"

He heard a little chuckle behind him, he quickly whipped his head around and saw you standing there. Iida froze, unable to muster up the words he wanted to say, thankfully, you approached him and spoke first. "page 39, check the bookmark."

Iida looked back at the book, opening to the page you guided him to. "Chapter 3, getting over anxiety" was at the top of the page. Iida took a quick second to feel a little embarrassed at how easily you saw through him, but his thoughts were quickly cut off by the bookmark.

Written on it, in neat handwriting, was a phone number. Your phone number. Iida's heart practically leapt out of his chest as he turned around to look at you, but you had already ran off.

Iida chuckled softly as he pocketed the bookmark, it seems like he wasn't the only one who needed to brush up on chapter 3.

Reblogs>>>>likes

[handmadecp]

Bike Tool Pouch

Hi Guys, sorry it’s been a few weeks but life and Covid got in the way for a bit after the Large explorer bag. But I finally got some free time to sit down and make something. This time I purchased a pattern from Tony See at Dieselpunk.ro ( ‘ro’ standing for ‘Romania’..I think. ). The pattern is actually for a Bag with either carry handles or a shoulder strap, but I want the main body of this pattern to alter it into a Pouch / saddle bag for my bike to carry a few tools and maybe a spare inner tube etc and I gotta say....it has turned out great. See for yourself and join me in this short build along to see me put this lovely little pouch / saddle bag together. It’s a fairly easy build and I would recommend it to a more ‘adventurous’ beginner. As usual as I am hoping to peek the interest of a few of you to give it a go yourself I will add that Leather crafting can be expensive and can become addictive...in a good way. But Leather, especially in the UK is very expensive, so maybe pick a small project as your first one to keep costs down whilst you learn. That being said, this is an amazing hobby and very satisfying when your skill level increases and you start to see better results. I almost forgot, I have been getting into making videos of me building these projects and I show them on my new YOUTUBE Channel called Shamancraftprojects, I hope you will drop by for a look, My filming and editing skills will improve with time, but they are fun to watch. If you do would you please ‘Like’ Subscribe and click the Bell and click on ‘ALL’ so you will know when I put a new one up. Thanks.  Ok,, lets get into it.

Pic 1: Turned out great, not very difficult to make and recommended for adventurous beginners. I keep getting asked How long it will take,...well, how long is a piece of string ? ..I took 3 days to make this but that’s with normal life getting in the way, so it all depends how long you can give it your attention for really. Let’s crack on.

Pic 2 : As always the patterns are printed out in ‘sections’ which have to be cut out and taped together to make the full pattern, this bit came in two halves which I’ve taped together across the middle with decorators paper tape. All other pieces are treated the same way and then any holes are punched out as per the markings. I have shown this many times in past projects so if you have any issues go check out my archive, I’m sure the information you want will be in there.

Pic 3 : I have used a Walnut water stain dye by fiebings, I use this color a lot, it’s one of my favourites and for me personally it gives leather the color most people expect leather to be..traditionally speaking that is, but feel free to dye your projects any color you wish it’s your project. Once all the patterns were transferred and the parts were cut out of the leather, I first hand stitched the top flap onto the main body as seen here using a saddle stitch.

Pic 4 : For all those out there who have followed my projects from the beginning, six years ago...wow time flies, firstly..thank you and please tell your friends,...anyyyhoooo..for all of you regulars you will remember that I enjoy hand stitching and the saddle stitch is my ‘go to’. My stitching has definitely improved thanks to practice and also to the advice given to me by many people..thanks guys if you are seeing this for all your help and free advice and from videos on youtube. Here you can see the stitching in a nice consistant line, if your stitching is ‘wobbly’ check when you do it how you cross your needles over on the first stitch, if your left needle goes behind the right needle keep doing that...and continue crossing them the same on every stitch. If your fingers hurt a lot, do four or five stitches lightly and ‘then’ pull tight...that’s approx five stitches for one pull...less stress than pulling on every stitch.

Pic 5 : Here I’ve cut a couple of the ‘skirt’ pieces ( just what I call them ) that will stitch to the end pieces to enable them to be connected to the main body as you will see later and also the front strap that will ‘pop’ over a ‘Sam Brown’. on the left are the two pieces that will eventually hold ‘D’ rings.

Pic 6 : On the main Pattern the straps are intended as carry handles as you will see if you watch the Build Tutorial Video put out by ‘Tony See’ at Dieselpunk.ro. But as I’m making it into a Tool Pouch I have used the part of the strap that will be stitched to the main body but I have cut it in half and shortened the strap to take a buckle. In this pic you see the strap cut in half and positioned ready for stitching after a buckle is fitted.

Pic 7 : if you zoom in you will see here that the strap was cut in half, however, since doing this I realise that cutting it isn’t necessary if you just remember to make one end shorter whilst leaving it longer on the other end so you can cut it to the required length later. Also here you can see the shorter ‘button’ strap is fitted. If you would like to see the build in more detail I have a four part build video with audio on Youtube  ‘Shamancraftprojects’. titled ‘Bike Tool Pouch PT1, PT2, PT3, and PT4. I also have a shop now on ‘Folksy’ where I sell a lot of my projects, this one is for myself but I will be making more of these. I no longer have a shop on ETSY and for anyone wondering why, after being on it so long, they were taking 3/4s of my money on each sale and ripping me off in other smaller charges, seemed like more every week, so I’m now on ‘Folksy’. That being said..lets carry on.

Pic 8 : Stitching the ‘D’ring holders and ‘skirts’ on to the end sections starting on the smaller underside piece then fold the top over and stitch the upper one ‘over’ the under one.

Pic 9 : Here is what I call the ‘skirt’ as it stitches around the edge of the end section on one side and then stitches to the main section on the other side, hence the two rows of holes.

Pic 10 : Here I am putting on the ‘Skirt’, (mainly because I can’t remember what it’s called hahaha ) ...onto the second of the two end sections. It’s a simple thing to do, you just find the center mark on the two pieces which are marked on the pattern, so make sure to look for them on your pattern and to mark them on your leather as these are the starting points for the stitching.

Pic 11 : Once the ‘skirt’ is attached the next step was to attach the ‘D’ ring holders on as seen here. I bought the ‘Kit’ of buckles,rivets etc from Dieselpunk.ro also.

Pic 12 : Next I attached the end pieces to the main body, I used a clip to hold the two edges together leaving the four holes I neded to stitch, as seen here on the main body one end is already done, the outside holes are to be stitched to the end sections.

Pic 13 : Here, I’m stitching an end section to the main body using the saddle stitch.

Pic 14 : Another view showing the outside stitching now incorporating the ‘left over’ outside holes as I go around the outside.

Pic 15 : Once done they should pull to shape like this.

  Pic 16 : Now the buckles and ‘Sam Brown’ need fitting.

Pic 17 : The Buckles and Sam Brown are fitted, very easy to do even for a beginner and I think a Beginner ...once they can stitch, should be fine making this. ‘Stays will be fitted later to hold the straps better.

Pic 18 : Here I’ve fitted the ‘stays’. Now to make some straps to attach the bag to the Bike.

Pic 19 : As I’ve said, straps are no problem to make, I just cut two small ones and riveted them to the bag and then fitted buckles to them and riveted the straps to them as shown here.

Pic 20 : Plenty of strap here to connect it to the frame of the Bike.

Pic 21 :  Ta daaaa, I always wanted one of these on my bike to carry tools, spare inner tubes, puncture kit, gloves, hat etc. There’s more room than at first appears in this neat little bag. I recommend this project for beginners, but practice the saddle stitch first. You don’t have to use veg tan but I would recommend using a firm material that will last. I can re water proof this bag and treat it with balm now and again to keep it in good condition, I coated this in Effax Leather Balm. Hope you have enjoyed this small project, after the explorer bag I wanted a quick easy project and this fit the bill nicely. More to come, watch this space. I hope some of you will have a go yourself. ‘till next time...Stay Crafty, Stay Safe.

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: that’s pretty knit 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: rurikawa yuki/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 1.9k words, 1 image

𝐚𝐧: yuki birthday month, yuki fic. ahaha i am very direct with my titles again. what’s new? because of the research i did, i’m probably gonna go order some knitting materials online now

Perhaps you spent too much time at the nearest arts and crafts store. For a dozen or so minutes you stood in one spot, unmoving unless someone needed to pass by you, your eyes flitting up and down, left and right as you debated over the different assortments of yarn.

You already had an inkling the different colours would overwhelm you— with so many different colours and different shades each, how could you possibly limit yourself to just one? You didn’t expect to be this troubled with choosing among different yarn weights, too. Why did the store give you 7 different choices? How were you supposed to know if choosing light yarn was better than choosing bulky yarn?

… you seriously should have done more research, but the prospect of finally having free time to visit the shop overshadowed any semblance of rationality you previously possessed.

Look at you now.

Alright, Plan A— scope out the area for the friendliest looking employee and muster up the courage to ask for help, plain and simple.

Except things don’t always go as planned.

When you hear your name come from a voice behind you, it was impossible not to figure out who it was that caught you. You’re just a little bit upset and a little bit tense because of all people to come across at this moment, it had to be Yuki? It’s not that you dislike him, rather it’s because the opposite is true that you found yourself more pressed than you should be.

It was like buying a surprise gift for someone and that exact someone seeing you buy that gift… actually, that was pretty much the situation— the only differing variable being that the gift hasn’t even been created yet.

Seriously, you just had to come across the very person you were planning on making something for?

“Yuki-kun! What are you doing here?”

He gave you a blank stare, as if waiting for you to realise how dumb your question was. Rurikawa Yuki? In a crafts store? Unless you wanted something specific, the answer should have been plenty obvious.

“Hah? I want to buy materials to make clothes, obviously,” he replied, tilting his head to gesture towards his shopping basket filled with various beads, lace, and… were those feathers? Was he just replenishing stock and were those all for one outfit? Curiosity was getting the better of you, mouth already poised to ask a follow-up question before he interrupted you.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?”

To any deities out there, grant you a smidge of acting prowess, or at the very least the ability to make some half-truths and get away with it.

You awkwardly let out a laugh, your eyes leaving Yuki as they dragged themselves back towards the shelves.

“I’m supposed to make a scarf for someone,” an omission of information, but technically the truth, “but I don’t know which yarn to pick?”

For a few seconds Yuki stared at you with narrowed eyes, ultimately letting out a sigh as he placed his own items on the tiled floor, facing the same direction as you.

“Any colour you want?”

Taking the opportunity to resolve one of your main problems, you quickly told him that he could choose any colour he wanted. Haha, you were so slick getting Yuki to choose the material he’d like the most. If you somehow screwed up the knitting process, at least he’d like the colour, right?

“Didn’t you do any research?” Yuki asked, sifting through the pale pink yarns to look for the appropriate weight.

“Not really,” you admitted sheepishly, “I mean, I just saw the steps were easy enough and decided to give it a try.”

“I-di-ot~” he said in a sing-song voice, but despite the nickname you knew there was underlying affection there somewhere, “one skein of super-bulky yarn would be the easiest to work with, then you probably need a crochet hook and 9 mm knitting needles too…”

You follow the green-haired boy as he moves to a different aisle, picking up the supplies you inevitably would have had trouble choosing between.

“Really, you could have just asked me, if you’re so clueless. I’d help you out.”

“No way!” you suddenly exclaimed, earning yourself front row tickets to Yuki’s look of confusion, “I can do it myself!”

You hoped your sudden outburst didn’t come off as rude, but he seemed to just push the matter away nonchalantly.

“Suddenly getting so loud, what’s with you…” he muttered, dropping the things he picked up for you atop your waiting hands, “but that’s fine. The scarf won’t be as cute as if I helped you, but maybe it’ll turn out decent at least.”

You clutched the materials to your chest, already anticipating being able to prove Yuki wrong. How would he react the moment he knew the person you were knitting something for was him?

“I’ll show it to you when I’m done!” you promised, “I need your seal of approval, after all!”

He’d probably point out any issues regardless, so you just had to make sure you did your absolute best!

Knitting took a lot more effort than you anticipated. First of all, you had to do something called a cast on around the needle? Apparently the wrap cast on was great for beginners, but you weren’t gonna lie— it did take you one whole article from some “The Queen of Yarn” blogspot and one 5 minute YouTube tutorial just to make sure you were on the right track.

One. Slip knot: loop the yarn around your fingers clockwise, the yarn attached to the ball going under the loop, slid off your fingers and slipped onto the needle.

It wasn’t that the steps were particularly difficult. Rather, it was constantly making sure you weren’t accidentally skipping any steps or areas due to not paying too much attention.

Two. Open the loop to make a stitch: hold the empty needle with your dominant hand, and the needle with the slip knot in the other. Slip the empty needle into the first loop— from front to back.

Still, it was difficult to stop your thoughts from wandering— perhaps you should have chosen to listen to some kind of tea spill or podcast or comedy routine or anything with words instead of the LoFi ChillHop live stream playing from your phone. You were going to give Yuki a scarf— then what?

Three. Wrap the yarn: go counter-clockwise, the working yarn sliding between both of the needles.

You had a crush on Yuki, plain and simple, but it’d be embarrassing to just admit it! The amount of courage you had still needed replenishing, what with the amount you used up to just go up to him and try befriending him a couple of months back. What if you confessed, and he decided not only was your scarf ugly, he wouldn’t be friends with you anymore as well?

Four. Turn the stitch: slide the dominant-hand needle from the back to the front of the other needle.

But would it be enough to just pass off the garment as a, “thank you for being my friend” gift? Especially when there was no real occasion, and the hours you put in into making him something— would he question it?

Five. Finish the stitch: slide the dominant-hand needle up so that the first loop on the other needle slides off. Move on to the next loop, do the same thing, repeating until you are out of stitches.

Well, even with all of Yuki’s bluntness, he was still kind so he’d probably still be your friend! It’d still really hurt if he rejected you though, so maybe you should put off implying anything more than platonic between you two for… a while. Maybe it was too soon?

Looking at the progress you made, you were unable to hold in a groan of defeat. The pale pink yarn against the bamboo needle looked pretty and neat; there was an issue though.

One row. You were only able to do one row so far.

Your phone clock said it was still pretty early into the afternoon. Well, a few more hours wouldn’t hurt anything except your hands, right?

A hand therapy site told you that pain brought by needlework was probably due to repetition of motion, bad posture, and or general fatigue. Not gonna lie, you probably fit into all three— the last one maybe more so than others.

How long one took to knit varied— some dedicating days, while others were able to crank out 5 scarves a day. A part of you was proud to be able to procure something presentable and wearable in one sitting.

…

You’re just choosing to omit the fact that that one sitting lasted until 3 am, but what Yuki doesn’t know? Won’t hurt him.

Thanking your singular brain cell right now that you decided to do this project over the weekend instead of during a school day— you’re unsure if you’d even be able to survive at all if you actually had to do maths and stuff the day after.

Deciding to just go with the flow, you found yourself folding the scarf as neatly as you could, gingerly placing it inside a paper bag. After all, you agreed to “have him judge” your creation today.

In all honesty, you thought you had built up the confidence to confess your crush to Yuki. If he reciprocated, good for you! If he didn’t, well, either you take it cooly or go ‘I said I liked you as a friend thing, silly!”

Standing in front of him though, his orange eyes scrutinising the pale pink scarf, made you lose your words, hesitation standing in its stead.

“Garter stitch…”

“What do you think, Yuki-kun?” you asked, peering at the green haired boy curiously as you impatiently awaited his verdict.

“I’m honestly surprised you made something nice,”

“Hey—“

“But for beginner, it’s pretty good,” he complimented, “actually, I can see myself wearing it when it gets colder—“

Even with such simple words, you felt your heart swell in happiness. Not only did he say he liked it, but he even went as far as to say he’d wear it? There were so many ways to get your gratitude across, to tell Yuki your true intentions in ‘asking for his approval’. With all of your options, you went with

“If you like it, it’s yours!”

“Hey, you…”

He looked like he didn’t know how to respond. Actually, you can relate to that because even you’re befuddled by your wording. Didn’t it make it seem like you gifted it to him as an afterthought?

“I mean, well that’s not what I meant,” you hurriedly followed up, “I wanted to give it to you from the start? I didn’t know if it’d be nice though so if you said it was ugly I would’ve hidden it from the world? You said you would wear it though so—“

“This won’t do…” Yuki replied, interrupting your impending rambling. Before you could ask him what he meant, he pulls your hand to lead you inside the dormitories.

Unbeknownst to you, pink the same shade of your... his scarf painted his cheeks. If only the weather was fit for the garment you gave, he’d be able to blame the sudden colour on the cold.

“Come on, I need to get your measurements.”

It was difficult to keep the silly grin off of your face afterwards.

want to order again?

[haberdashing]

I Am Destruction, Decay, And Desire (3/?)

Martin finds out that Jon’s going to meet with Jude Perry and acts to intervene. It goes… poorly.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

on AO3

The walk home became nothing more than a blur in Martin’s mind the moment it was over, the moment he was able to close and lock the door behind him and take a moment to just breathe. He still didn’t know exactly where he’d been when he’d burned Jon, how exactly he had gotten from here to there, though the pain in his legs and his difficulty in catching his breath suggested that it had been quite the walk.

Martin pressed his back against his door and closed his eyes and fervently hoped that the past couple of hours had all been just a bad dream that he was about to wake up from any second now.

He waited and waited and nothing changed. If this was a dream, it was one he wasn’t waking up from that easily.

Martin slumped down until he was sitting on the floor, back still firmly pressed against his front door, and let out a shaky laugh. Of course it wasn’t that easy. Nothing was ever that easy, not for him at least. And besides, they always said pinching yourself would get you out of a dream, and while he hadn’t tried that exactly, what he’d gone through was much more intense than any mere pinch could ever be...

He hadn’t noticed the tear starting to form until he heard the sizzle of it evaporating and saw the steam rising up from just below his left eye.

And he’d thought he’d been in a sorry state before all this...

Well.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

This was far from the first time Martin had had a bad day. Admittedly, today was--Martin let out a laugh, sharp and bitter and raucous--today was exceptionally bad even for a life where other bad days included “being trapped in my flat by a worm monster (thirteen times in a row),” “being chased through my workplace by the same worm monster before stumbling on a dead body,” “being accused of being a murderer by my boss,” and “getting trapped in endless corridors by a monster with giant hands before finding another dead body, this one in my boss’ office,” but it was still just another bad day, and he’d handled bad days before.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Martin wiped away what remained of his tear, which was now just a thin layer of salt on his cheek, and tried not to think too hard about his skin felt oddly sticky to the touch.

He had a routine for this, plans for what to do when a day had been capital-b Bad, and they weren’t perfect, no, but they usually helped some at least, were certainly better than flailing around doing nothing in particular.

Maybe if he took a nice long bath, turned some calming music on and lit up a scented candle and tried to relax, things wouldn’t seem quite as horrible once he was done.

Maybe.

It was worth a shot, at any rate.

Martin started with the radio. It was an old-fashioned radio, one he’d bought on a whim some years back, and yes, there were other ways to listen to music, ways with less commercials and more music he knew he’d like, but he liked his radio just the same. In a way, it always made it feel that much more special when a song that he really liked came on, because he knew it wasn’t his doing, that it came down to the whims of some DJ he’d likely never meet. He almost always listened to the same station, an oldies station he’d been fond of from as far back as he could remember, and now didn’t seem like a time to mess with what worked.

A few button presses and the music started playing, the sound of the radio quickly filling Martin’s flat.

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away...”

Martin let out a half-stifled snort as he heard what the radio had on now. He’d been hoping for something a little more upbeat, but admittedly, the song didn’t not fit his current situation.

Yesterday, Martin’s biggest concern had been what Jon was up to and trying to clear him of that murder charge that he knew wasn’t Jon’s doing. Yesterday, Martin’s greatest encounter with the supernatural had probably been being trapped by Prentiss for nearly a fortnight, and he’d managed to get out of that without so much as a scratch.

“Now it looks as though they’re here to stay...”

That was probably just beginner’s luck, though, or something like it, and clearly, whatever luck Martin had had in regards to the supernatural had run out.

Martin shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He was not going to think about what had happened. The whole point was that he was going to take a moment to calm down and relax and not dwell on it.

“Oh, I believe in yesterday...”

So, radio was on, first step of the process successfully completed. Music: check.

Next up: the scented candle.

Martin had been a fan of scented candles since before he could really afford to be, when he’d stuck a small one he’d found at a thrift store in his handbag and left it there for months at a time, until he could swear he caught the scent of peppermint as soon as he opened the bag. Now he bought the full-sized ones from time to time, whenever he happened to catch a scent that he liked going on sale, saving them up for days that he needed a little pick-me-up in the evening.

This was certainly one of those days, and Martin didn’t hesitate, heading over to his closet and rummaging around a bit until he found a purple candle that apparently smelled like “love spell.” Martin didn’t have a clue what love spells were supposed to smell like, but he trusted his past self’s judgment in buying it, and it did sound like a pleasant enough name for a scent, if a bit on the abstract side.

Now, where was his lighter?

“Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be...”

As Martin held the candle in his hand, trying to remember where he’d stashed his lighter when he’d last used it and only half taking in the music from the radio, a thought occurred to him: perhaps he didn’t need a lighter.

Whatever he was now, it had to do with fire, right? With burning things? (Things like his own body--no, no, not thinking about that, especially when even that much consideration given to it was enough to make Martin wince.) Maybe he could make it work to his advantage. If he was going to be some sort of supernatural monster now, the least the universe could do for him was let him light his own candles.

Martin opened the lid of the candle--it smelled surprisingly fruity, with a slight hint of vanilla--and focused on the wick very intently, on urging it to begin burning.

The candle didn’t light up.

Well, maybe he just needed to get a bit more hands-on with things...

“There’s a shadow hangin’ over me...”

Martin stuck his pointer finger in the candle jar and concentrated on making his finger really warm, and thus the wick his finger was brushing against by proxy.

For a moment, nothing visible happened, and Martin felt a bit silly, standing there with part of his hand inside a candle jar because he couldn’t be bothered to go look for a lighter-

And then, suddenly, the candle burst into flame, flame that didn’t hurt his finger in the slightest when he brushed against it.

As he repositioned his finger, though, it touched the body of the candle wax, and it came back out with a bit of purple stuck to it, and the candle smelled partially of the fruity scent that some candle company thought was what “love spell” smelled like, yes, but also disquietingly like burning flesh.

The patch of purple on his finger wouldn’t come off no matter how many times he tried to scrub it off.

“Oh, yesterday came suddenly...”

Fine. That was... that was fine. That was what the last part of the equation was for, after all. Maybe he couldn’t get that bit of candle wax off by hand, but a bath should sort that out nicely, and perhaps help calm him down more to boot.

Martin undressed, leaving his clothes in a neat pile next to the bathtub, then entered the tub and turned the water on.

The water turned to steam as it hit his body, and between the roar of the faucet and the hiss of the steam erupting from him, he could barely make out the radio in the background, though he knew the words well enough. (Why she had to go, I don’t know, she wouldn’t say... I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday...)

Martin let out a slightly-hysterical laugh as the water kept flowing and turning to steam and evaporating, as the room proceeded to get more and more humid while the bathtub refused to fill.

Of course. Of course. He couldn’t even have a nice soothing bath anymore, now, could he? How dare he try to do something normal, something that might make him happy...

No, wait, maybe he could figure this out.

Martin took a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning the faucet back off. (The radio came warbling back as soon as the water stopped flowing: Now I need a place to hide away... Oh, I believe in yesterday...)

Then he turned it back on, but with the water set to come out as cold as the faucet would allow.

The faucet still burbled away loudly enough to drown out the radio, but while the steam still rose up, it came more slowly than before, slowly enough that eventually the bathtub began to fill up with water that hadn’t warmed enough to evaporate just yet.

Martin made up for the lesser amount of steam, however, by bursting into sobs with a violence that surprised even himself, hot tears disappearing as soon as they began to fall.

[lunarhold]

─ pairing: hange zoe/reader ─ au: witch ─ warnings: none ─ words: 2.4k

❣ summary: real witches were thought to have died out, but hange might just get lucky

↔ a/n: ik ik this took a solid year to come out. to be honest, i didn’t think it was that great. i changed my mind. alternate to levi’s hocus

Hange stood behind her desk, staring at Eren in disbelief. He had come in a few minutes earlier, chattering to Mikasa and Armin about a person he had met earlier that day who was supposedly a witch. The naive boy actually believed them when they told him that, and now Hange was trying to tell him that real witches were so rare that they were thought to be extinct. As much as she would love to meet a real one, she couldn’t believe that Eren just happened to meet one in the grocery store. “Well,” Eren said, both aggravated and tired of the argument, “I got their address, if you’re so skeptical.” He passed off a sheet of paper to Hange with an address in neat handwriting. She looked at it and tried to remember where the road was. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was outside of town in the woods. Why wasn’t she surprised? She tucked the square of paper away in her shirt pocket, resolving to pay a visit after work.

It was late in the evening by the time Hange found the witch’s house. As she suspected, it was hidden in the woods from everyone. Had she not known to look, she would absolutely have missed it. She had almost missed it anyway-- the house itself was set back in the woods, invisible from the road with only a mailbox and dirt path to show something was there.As she passed the adorable frog-shaped mailbox, she could have sworn it croaked at her. She turned to stare at it, then shook her head. She couldn’t deny that she wanted so bad for you to turn out to be real, but she just couldn’t get her hopes up. The outside of your home was entirely nondescript and appeared to be just a normal home. Other than the ugly, pug-faced goblin door knocker and the fact that it was set far off in the woods, it could be just like any other. Hange didn’t hesitate to knock, but avoided the use of the knocker. It was really quite ugly. There was some shuffling on the other side of the door, a loud squeal followed by a curse, then it opened to reveal-- Not what she expected. You looked positively normal. In fact, you were absolutely adorable. Hange found herself at a loss for words for a moment, something her fellow soldiers would never believe could happen, before regaining her senses. “Hi, my name is Hange,” she said, extending her hand to you. You stared at it cautiously before taking it. Your palm was warm and smooth against hers, but she noted a few callouses. “_____. Can I help you?” you asked. You couldn’t remember giving your information to this woman, so how had she found you? “I’m sorry to just show up, but one of my soldiers gave me your address this afternoon and I wanted to meet you for myself.” All at once, you understood. She didn’t think you were real and wanted to prove it. It wasn’t all that surprising. There were so few of you anymore that most people didn’t believe you were a true witch. Plus there were so many frauds running around, giving you a bad name, that you withheld the information from most. This morning you had confessed to a young man in the grocery store, following your intuition on the matter. Clearly, this is what was supposed to happen. “Ah, right,” you said with a small smile. “Would you like to come in?” “Please,” Hange said, and stepped inside. Whatever she expected to find, she didn’t get it. The inside was far larger than the outside gave away. A large cauldron stood empty in the center of the room, with a table to the side that was cluttered with jars. A book was resting on an end table next to a high-backed armchair, along with a still steaming cup of tea. “You interrupted me,” you said when you caught her staring at the table. “I was just reading a new recipe for bone regrowth. It’s proving rather complicated. Hange merely nodded as she continued to assess the room. She could see why you needed so much room. Three of the four walls were covered in shelves, which were filled with books and jars, though she couldn’t tell what they contained. The fourth wall was dedicated to a large fireplace, complete with a small fire crackling away underneath another, smaller pot. The whole place smelled strongly of smoke and something sweet, and she found herself at ease. “Well, is it everything you expected?” you asked, and couldn’t keep the tease out of your voice. She flushed in response and couldn’t look you in the eye. She was embarrassed that you had called her bluff so easily, but was beginning to believe you might be the real deal. In response, she shook her head. “It’s more than I expected.” You couldn’t help but smile at her. She was  terribly cute as she looked around in wonder, but her eyes were constantly being drawn back to the cauldron. Deciding that, if she asked, you would have no problem giving her a lesson, you said, “Take a look around. Do you want some tea?” “Please,” she said breathlessly and made a beeline to the jar-lined shelves. Those quickly lost her interest as a cup and saucer swayed of their own accord past her. Turning to watch, she caught sight of the wooden stick in your hand, followed by the smirk on your face. A gasp escaped her and she nearly ran across the room to you. “You’re a real witch! Teach me!” You laughed. “Alright.”

                                                         _____

“So, I add--?” Hange held up a jar of powdered moss, poised to just dump it into the little cauldron. It had been a week since she had first showed up, and now she was coming by almost every night after work. At first, you had made her do a lot of reading and only allowed her to watch you make potions. Tonight was the first night you were allowing her to try making one herself. It was a very simple one: a forgetfulness potion. “Hange, no!” you said with a laugh, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from dumping the entire jar into the tiny cauldron. “Just a dash will do fine.” She colored red, looking from her wrist to you to the cauldron. “Uh, sorry. Got a little excited.” That was an understatement, you decided. If you had learned anything at all from this last week, it was that Hange had an infinite amount of energy, which lead to some very entertaining results. The very next day after she showed up, she broke your broom attempting to make it fly. This was by far the funniest thing you had witnessed in a long time as the woman galloped around your living room on the broom, riding it like it was a hobby horse. She had apologized profusely, but you had reassured her, saying, “It’s only a broom,” with a pointed wink. She had pouted a little after the fact, but it was quickly forgotten when you handed her a beginner’s potion guide. Her whole face had lit up, similar to the way it was now, and you couldn’t help the small bubble of pleasure that settled in your stomach. It had been so long since anyone had taken an interest in your craft. “Ah, so next is...frog...tongue?” she asked hesitantly, looking up to you. “Really?” You stifled a giggle behind your hand at the disgust on her face. “That is absolutely not the worst thing you’ll ever handle when brewing. Unless you can’t handle it?” She perked up at your challenge, her hands on her hips as she leaned in close to you. You caught a whiff of gun polish and lavender as she shook her head. “Where’s the jar?” Pointing behind her at the shelf, you watched her determinedly march over. You couldn’t help but admire the way she carried herself, full of confidence and grace. You winced as she tripped on her way over, smashing into the end table. The contents, a stack of books and your wand, crashed to the ground. She was quick to bounce back, her cheeks a brilliant red as she looked from you to the mess she had made. It seemed to you that she did it a lot in your presence, and you wondered if she did it elsewhere too. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll clean it up!” she squealed, scrambling to pick up the books. Arms full, she reached out for your wand. “Wait, Hange! Don’t--!” you exclaimed, but it was too late. As soon as her hand wrapped around the slender stick, there was a loud crack and a bang. When Hange’s eyes opened, she immediately looked to you for your reaction. She had taken notice almost from the beginning that she was far more prone to accidents when she was here. As much as she wanted to blame it on the magic, she knew it was a lie. She was surprised that, with the amount mishaps she had been having, you hadn’t kicked her butt to the curb. Not that she wanted you to, but she was constantly expecting it. And now, she had gone and done this. Standing in your place was a tiny, fluffy cat. It’s tail flicked back and forth in irritation, but it’s eyes were huge and full of amusement. “Uh, I don’t guess sorry is gonna cover this one?” she said, staring at you in horror. “Not even a little,” you said with a laugh. “So what do I--? I mean, is there anything--?” She was unable to complete her thought, but you could figure out that she was trying to ask. “There’s a potion to speed it up, but it’s a bit complicated,” you said, cocking your head at her. “There’s a small problem, though.” You were looking behind her, and she whirled around, realizing immediately what it was. “Oh no,” she whispered. “How did that happen?” The row of shelves was completely demolished, all of the jars smashed into pieces on the floor, their contents scattered among the shards. You padded over to her and sat down next to her, allowing your tail to curl around her ankle. This wasn’t the first time you had been transformed into a cat, but it was usually voluntary. “The spell likely recoiled off the wall first and destroyed the shelves.” “So there’s nothing I can do?” Hange asked, sounding downtrodden. “Nope,” you said with a pop. “Well, you could clean up a li--” You were cut off mid-sentence, a cloud of smoke enveloping your tiny, furry body. When it cleared you were standing before Hange once more, looking no worse for wear. “Oh, thank god,” Hange gushed, throwing her arms around you. A flush rose up to your cheeks as her hands clenched the back of your shirt. A bit hesitant, you wrapped your arms around her back. Her response was to squeeze tighter, pulling a small smile to your lips. Hange was glad her face was hidden from you as a fierce blush was covering the whole of it, but she was also wearing a fierce grin. It took a minute to get herself under control, then she pulled back. “Do you want help cleaning up?” “Nah,” you said, and snatched your wand up. With a flick of your wrist, the shelves righted themselves. The jars, with a lot of clinking and grinding, glued themselves back together. You knew you would have to go through the contents of the jars later, to determine which ones could still be used. Some would need to be thrown out, but Hange felt bad as it was, and knowing she had ruined some of them would only make her feel worse. “That is so awesome.” Although, you thought as you felt her slam full force into you, maybe a bit more guilt couldn’t hurt. The force with which she hit you sent you both backwards, right into the hot cauldron full of nearly complete potion. What potion had that been again? “Er, what’s your name again?” Oh, right. You sighed as you stood up, flicking your hands to rid them of liquid before picking up your wand. Thankfully, the effects were minor, since the potion was incomplete as well as the fact that it hadn’t been properly drunk. “Oh, _____, right…” Hange said with a sheepish look. It slowly fell into annoyance. “I’m really making a fool of myself.” “Yeah,” you agreed as you siphoned her dry with the wand. Her shoulders slumped and she wouldn’t look you in the eye, but you took her hands in yours anyway. “You don’t have to be so nervous, Hange.” “I’m not nervous!” she said, but her cheeks had turned red as soon as you said it. “That’s not what Eren said,” you said in a sing-song, earning a groan. “That little brat. I’m gonna tell Levi to make him run extra laps tomorrow.” You laughed and squeezed her hands, and she returned her focus to you. Or, more specifically, your soft, smooth hands wrapped around hers. “_____?” “Hm?” “Do you wanna go on a date?” She received her answer in the most unexpected way: your warm lips pressed briefly against hers. She was almost unable to process what had happened, she was so surprised. But when she did, she couldn’t help but grin. “So, is that a yes?” “I would love to,” you said, but held up a finger. “On one condition?” “And that would be?” she asked, but was pretty sure she already knew. “Calm down,” you said, shaking her by the shoulders. “Alright, alright!” she said as she laughed, struggling to break free. “So, can I try again?” “Uh...maybe you better just stick to reading for a while.” Her expression became a pout, her cheeks puffed out in a frown. “Please?” She looked so adorable, you found yourself giving in. Oh no, you thought, it’s starting already. “Oh, alright. But if you turn me into a cat again…” It was a bad idea, but you couldn’t deny her enthusiasm.

[hovercraft79]

Winter Song

Ch 24 O Tannenbaum

Chapters: 24/31 Word Count: 1,347 Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017) Rating: Teen Warnings: medical drug use? Pippa’s on some painkillers and she’s a little bit stoned. Summary: When Pippa has an accident on the ski slopes, it’s Hecate Hardbroom she calls upon for help. Of course.

Notes: This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist.

O Tannenbaum is a classic carol. I went with the German original, because why not?

I am still Sparky-less when it comes to editing. I’m so sorry.

All you sharp-eyed readers who notice when I make an error in continuity, it will not hurt my feelings at all if you let me know. I’d love for this to actually be coherent when all the parts have been added (and fit with the rest of this universe).

Hurrying through the medical complex, Hecate tried to push the panic down. She needn’t worry. She knew that. She’d already spoken with Pippa. Twice. Pippa was fine. She just… didn’t know how to find her.

Hecate tried to remember the one other time she’d been in hospital for Ordinaries. It had been years ago, when a young Cackle’s teacher had tried her hand at driving a car. There should be a…

“Can I help you, love?” a young, bleary-eyed man in maroon scrubs asked. “You look a bit lost.”

“I’m here to pick up a friend. I just don’t know where to find her.” Hecate reminded herself to smile at the last second.  

“Right, just check in over there,” he pointed to a tall desk that Hecate had purposely avoided, covered as it was in fairy lights and green metallic tinsel.  A garish pink tree crowded with colored balls almost blocked a young woman from view. Hoi polloi, Hecate thought, cautiously approaching.

A few minutes later, Hecate was striding down a white corridor, loose skirt billowing with every step, and something called a ‘sticky note’ clutched in her hand. Glancing at the number for the tenth time, Hecate finally found the proper place. Poking her head through the privacy curtain, Hecate spotted a blonde ponytail bobbing just above the top of a raised bed. “Pippa?”

The blonde head turned and leaned around the edge of the mattress until Pippa was hanging off to the point Hecate feared she would crash to the floor. “Hiccup! You came!” A hand flailed in Hecate’s direction. “Come here, you can be the first to sign my plaster!”

Hecate stepped inside the curtain. She took in the pink-clad form stretched out before her. Pippa’s left ankle was done up in a bright white cast. A slight tear marred her ski pants, and a neat row of stitches sat just above her left eyebrow. “I see you don’t ski any better than you ice skate.”

“Oh… I don’t know about that, Hiccup…” Pippa grinned, wide and slightly crooked. “I went SWOOP!” She waved her arms out to her sides, nearly hitting Hecate in the face until she captured Pippa’s hand in hers. “You should have seen me, Hiccup, I was going soooo fast!”

“I’m sure you were, Pipsqueak,” Hecate smiled indulgently, letting a thin stream of her magic wash over Pippa, checking her injuries. “Too bad you didn’t remember how to stop.”

“Pffffttt…” Pippa waved her free hand dismissively. “Wasn’t my fault… how was I supposed to know that fox was going leap out from the woods. You wouldn’t want me to squish it, would you?” Pippa tugged at her hand. “The only thing I want to squish is you!”

“NO!” Hecate’s eyes flew open and she looked around to see if anyone heard her. No one seemed to be paying them any mind at all. “No… we wouldn’t want you to…squish the fox.” Hecate eased herself onto the edge of the bed. Merlin’s cauldron, she thought, what sort of Ordinary medicines had they pumped in to her? “Is that how you hit the trees?”

“Oh, no… that’s how I hit the beginner class that was practicing getting on the ski lift. She used both hands – including the one still gripping Hecate’s – to demonstrate knocking the other skiers left and right, complete with sound effects. “It was after I dodged a tiiiiny little beginner that my ski must have caught in a rut.”

“And that’s when you hit the trees?”

“Silly, Hiccup! That’s when I hit the hot cocoa cart.” She leaned so fast and so close into Hecate’s face that Hecate nearly fell off the bed trying to back up. “That’s when I tore my trousers.” Tears welled up in Pippa’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “Look what I’ve done to my trousers, Hiccup… I loved these trousers.” She sniffed mightily. “The man in the cart yelled at me… and he didn’t even offer me any cocoa… and it ruined my…” She pointed at the rip and began crying harder.

“I can fix your trousers, Pipsqueak! Don’t cry.” Hecate started to cast a quick repair spell but thought better of it.

“Really? Would you?” She started scrabbling at the zipper. “I can give them to you right now.”

Hecate snatched Pippa’s hand into her own. “NO! Not just yet. As soon as I get you home. Leave them on for now.” Hecate peered desperately through the crack in the curtain, hoping to find anyone that might be official.

“Promise? Do you?” Pippa’s voice dropped an octave and she waggled her eyebrows. “You’ll get these breeches off me as soon as we’re back at… Where am I going tonight?”

“Back to Pentangle’s,” Hecate said, relieved that her very stoned Pippa already seemed to have forgotten about her torn trousers. “After the cocoa cart… is that when you hit the tree?”

Pippa huffed, suddenly quite put out. “Why do you keep saying that? How do you know the tree didn’t hit me? Must you assume it’s my fault?”

Hecate dropped Pippa’s hand, bringing her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose instead. She was going to have a headache that a potion wouldn’t be able to touch by the time this night was over. “I’m sorry, Pip. Is that when the tree hit you?”

“Almost… Cocoa Man stole one of my skis.” She pointed at her plastered ankle. “That one. It hurt. Aaaand it made me roll off the hill.”

Ah… Hecate thought, surely, we must be getting close. “And that’s when the tree got you.”

“Yes. You’ve never seen such fury, Hiccup. Why was the tree so angry?” She tugged her other hand free and crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. “I didn’t do anything to the tree. I promise.”

“I know!” Hecate started to place a hand on Pippa’s knee before second-guessing herself and letting it drop back into her lap. “I know you would never hurt the tree.” Hecate sent up a brief prayer to any deity that might be listening to please – please – send whoever needed to come and dismiss them. She was sorely tempted to simply transfer them away, but she knew that would only raise questions. Plus, once Pippa mentioned she’d been unconscious long enough for ski patrol to be summoned and that she would need some head scans, Hecate knew she wanted to see the results herself before spiriting Pippa away. Head injuries were one of the areas where magic was little better than Ordinary medicine and Hecate wasn’t about to take any chances with Pippa.

While she was distracted, Pippa leaned over the other way, stretching for something on the side table. Hecate grabbed her arm just in time to keep her from tumbling onto the floor. “Hiccup! I want you to be my first!”

“W-w-w-whaT?”

Pippa lurched back onto the mattress, holding out a black permanent marker. “To sign? Remember, silly? You’re meant to sign it first.”

“Oh… of course.” Hecate took the marker, dodging Pippa’s leg as the blonde swung her plastered ankle over Hecate’s head to lay it on her lap. Hecate wondered, idly, if there was any chance she could get some of whatever drugs they’d given Pippa, but quickly banished the thought. If she was anything like this when she was Miss Softbroom, she thought, ruefully, she’d owed Dimity Drill more than she cared to admit. “Hold still and I’ll sign it.” She waited to make sure Pippa would be still before signing her name, just above Pip’s ankle. “There. All done.”

Hecate nearly jumped out of her skirt when the curtain snapped open and a young intern came, hand out and already introducing himself. An hour later and Pippa was being wheeled out of hospital, followed by a very relieved Hecate. One quick spell dismissed the orderly and two long-distance transfers had them in Pippa’s living room. Two more spells and Pippa’s trousers were repaired, and she was tucked into bed, sound asleep. One last spell and an exhausted Hecate was snoring softly on Pippa’s enlarged sofa.

[whatwouldbevdo]

Skill 1: Knitting

When I think of my grandma creating, I think of her knitting.  It’s like the quintessential grandma skill, right?  My grandma was a master knitter.  She could knit anything from sweaters to leg warmers to hats, mittens, scarves, and quilts.  Each winter, she would knit our whole family matching headbands and scarves.  She’d also knit several grocery bags-worth of mittens for my Montessori’s clothing drive and other local charities.  So to begin my skill journey, it felt right to start with knitting.  

I had tried my hand at knitting before, but the process didn’t go over so well.  For one thing, the project I chose was way too ambitious for a first project.  I had hopes and dreams to knit my friends Emily and Stan a baby blanket for their son, Ellis.  It was going to be a blue ombré and chevron-patterned blanket to look like a wave because Stan and Emily enjoy surfing.  The tutorial on YouTube seemed easy enough to follow, but it was a lot of counting to keep track of.  That compounded with the fact that I was learning and troubleshooting as I went proved to be too overwhelming.  I decided to abandon the project (sorry Emily and Stan!).  

I knew that I could benefit from having the structure of a class.  Learning from an actual human in real life seemed really appealing.  Plus, if I had questions, I could ask and get help right away.  Luckily, I found a beginner’s knitting class focusing on making fingerless mittens at a shop called A Verb For Keeping Warm.  This was perfect – what better way to channel my Grandma Bev than by learning a mitten variation!

A Verb For Keeping Warm is a delightful local shop that offers all the essentials for DIY textiles and classes for anyone looking to learn how to make their own clothing.  You walk into the shop and instantly feel cozy. Seeing the full spectrum of naturally dyed yarns and fibers created an inspiring mindset for the class, which was situated in the back of the shop.  The instructor was the perfect balance of empowering and patient as we worked through the process of knit-casting on our stitches, knitting a garter stitch then turning each row, and finally, sewing together the edges to form the mitten.  During the allotted time, I was able to turn out one mitten but felt fairly confident knitting the other mitten on my own.

When I did finish my second mitten a few weeks later (because you know… life), I noticed that my stitches were more consistently neat.  The fact that I noticed progress even between my first and second mitten gave me so much hope!  Practicing, especially with this particular pattern, seems super manageable.  I’m thinking about experimenting with adding multiple colors.  Eventually, I want to get to the point of knitting a full mitten!

[errantknightess]

A game for three

Chapter 1/3: Two nerds and a newbie

Pairing: Lavi/Allen/Kanda

Word count: 3,427

Summary: searching for his place at the new school, Allen joins a struggling karuta club -- and soon finds there’s much more for him to learn than just the cards and the game rules

[Read on AO3]

Allen roamed helplessly through the corridors, searching for anything at all to set him on the right track. His lousy sense of direction had thwarted him again. This school was huge, and the two weeks since he transferred hadn’t been nearly enough time to get used to it yet. How ironic, to get lost on his way to see the student advisor. Maybe he should ask him to draw him a map when he finally gets there; that’s one way he could definitely help him assimilate.

He wasn’t too sure which room Komui-sensei said he would be in. He wasn’t even sure he would be there at all. It was pretty late already, and the entire wing seemed dead. Allen strode briskly along the hall, peeking into each and every classroom he passed. All empty, not a soul in sight.

As he rounded the corner, the silence broke, punctured suddenly with a distant thumping sound. Intrigued, Allen decided to follow it;  so far, it was the only sign of anyone’s presence. The thumping continued, growing louder the further he went along the corridor. Soon, Allen started to make out other sounds, faint voices and some sort of – singing? It was coming from the last door just next to the staircase, pretty clear now that he stood right in front of it. Puzzled, Allen slid the door open a crack and looked in.

Something whizzed past his head at a dangerous speed and smacked loudly against the window behind him.

“Sorry!” a voice inside the room called. “Can you get that?”

Allen turned around and picked up the deadly projectile. It was a card – fairly big and springy, with a few columns of hiragana printed in a simple font. He turned it in his fingers with interest, so preoccupied that he nearly tripped as he stepped into the classroom. Grasping at the doorframe, he steadied himself quickly and tried not to look too embarrassed under the taxing gaze of the two students watching him from the tatami mat set out on the floor.

“Thanks.” One of them, a guy with an eyepatch and red hair of a delinquent, reached out his hand with a smile. Allen gave him the card and watched that smile grow even wider as he inspected it.

“See, Yuu, I told you! You got it wrong! This is The spring has passed, not If I lay my head. That’s another penalty for you! You’re careless today.”

“Whatever,” the other one snorted, his long dark hair flying as he snapped his head around to glare at Allen. “Hey, you! Be useful and get that one as well.” He pointed at another card laying under a desk by the door, seemingly thrown there with the same force.

“Yuu!” the redhead hissed with a slight panic. “You can’t order people around like that!”

“Then what the hell am I the captain for?” Yuu rolled his eyes and once again fixed them expectantly on Allen. The redhead cringed.

“He’s not even in the club!”

“It’s fine,” Allen minced out politely and bent under the desk to retrieve the card. It looked similar to the first one, but with a different set of lines.

“What withers and falls away in this place is I myself,” he read out loud, his eyebrows rising higher with every word. He looked up from the card, shifting his eyes between them, from the red hair and piercings to the murderous scowl. “… Are you a poetry club?”

“Something like that,” the redhead laughed and leaned towards him, eye glinting with curiosity. “Hey, you’re that transfer student, right? From England? Have you ever heard about karuta?”

“A little bit,” Allen admitted, glancing at the tiles spread out between the two of them. “It’s a card game, isn’t it?”

“It’s a sport,” Yuu growled with emphasis. “For fuck’s sake, we’re a sport club.”

The redhead laughed nervously.

“I know, Yuu, I know.” He turned to Allen again, his smile apologetic. “He’s right, it’s a sport, in the same way go and shogi are, I guess. You can play for fun, too, but it takes some skill to do it at a competitive level. The rules are pretty simple, though! After all, even kids play it, you know. Once you memorize those hundred cards, it’s a breeze. In the end, it all boils down to how quickly you can match the poem being read with the correct ending – not that hard, eh? By the way, we haven’t introduced ourselves yet! You’re a first year, so you go first. What’s your name?”

“Uhh… Allen. Allen Walker,” Allen said, his head reeling a little from this rapid speech.

“Nice to meet you!” The redhead grabbed his hand and shook it with joint-twisting enthusiasm, plucking the card from his fingers while he was at it. “I’m Lavi Bookman, and this grumpy prettyboy here is Kanda Yuu, our esteemed club captain.”

“Shut up, moron.” Kanda turned away, glaring at them with the corner of his eye. “We both know you should be the damn captain.”

“And we both know you need it more, Mr. I-Have-No-Social-Skills-To-Speak-Of-In-My-College-Application.”

“College?” Allen looked at them with surprise. “So you’re third years?”

“He is.” Lavi pointed his thumb at Kanda and lowered his voice to a conspiratory whisper. “I should be. Got held back a grade cause I was travelling abroad last year. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Everyone knows,” Kanda growled. “Now stop clowning around and get back to the game already.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Lavi saluted and scooted back to his spot, but his eye was still fixed on Allen. “Hey, just a thought. How good are you with reading?”

“I can read, thank you very much,” Allen replied, offended. “I wouldn’t be going to school here if I were illiterate.”

“Relax. I meant loud reading,” Lavi chuckled, waving his hand towards the clunky CD player at his side. “I’m sick of the recordings. Let’s see how you’ll do with these.” He reached over to a nearby box and procured another deck, which he promptly thrust into Allen’s hands.

“What do I do with them?” Allen shuffled through the cards, taking in the colourful pictures and the crisp lines of kana.

“Just read the poems out loud, slowly and clearly. You can stop when either of us takes a card, just finish the line so we know which one it is.” Lavi cracked his knuckles and turned to Kanda with a wide grin. “Come on, Yuu! Let’s show the kid how it’s done!”

Allen cleared his throat and started reading, his voice wobbling uncomfortably. He didn’t even get through the first line when Lavi and Kanda both slammed their hands on the mat and sent the cards flying across the floor.

“It’s mine.” Kanda got up and went to pick up the card that landed the furthest, casting Allen a patronizing look as he passed by. “Speak up, Beansprout, we can barely hear you.”

Allen looked back at him with annoyance and deliberately raised his voice a little too much with the next card. Once again, though, he was cut off by the both of them pounding on the mat just three syllables in.

“Nice one.” Lavi smiled as Kanda took the card off his field and put it to the side. “Your guard is sharp as always, I see.”

“You could put up yours more, too,” Kanda grumbled. “Don’t let me leave you behind, idiot. I know you can do better than this. Stop being lazy!”

“All right, all right,” Lavi laughed, poking at Kanda’s hand as he straightened his cards. “I’ll take the next one, if you insist.”

Allen watched them over his cards, only partly paying attention to what he was reading. There was something mesmerizing in them, in this air of fierce focus shooting sparks between them as they moved, bent low over the mat, faces hovering just inches apart. He barely had any work to do there at all, it went so fast. Their hands cut through his words with the speed and grace of a tiger, taking the cards out one by one until just three remained, all in front of Lavi.

“Thank you for the game.” Kanda bowed deeply, his long hair obscuring his face as he touched his forehead to the mat. Lavi followed suit, though it seemed more like he just banged his head on the floor in frustration.

“I can’t believe you beat me again! Three times in a row! Man, this isn’t my day.”

“It’s never your day,” Kanda shot back, tapping his cards flush into a neat pile.

“You’re just too good.” Lavi sat up with a sigh and turned to Allen, his sour face lighting up immediately. “Nice job on the reading, by the way! Not bad for a beginner at all, I’m surprised. You should work on keeping the rhythm though, your intonation was all over the place. But you have a pleasant voice, even if it cracks a lot, and you breathe with your belly, that’s good.”

“Uhh… Thanks,” Allen said slowly, not sure if he should be more flattered or embarrassed.

“See, this is why you should be the fucking captain.” Kanda measured Lavi with a long glance, waving his hand in frustration. “I can’t do any of this… people shit.”

“Aww, don’t sell yourself so short, Yuu! You’re great at other things!” Lavi wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, rubbing his cheek on top of Kanda’s head. “You’ve got this awesome, intimidating presence, you know! And a strong sense of leadership! And a proper Japanese name, let’s not forget about that. You’re perfect for the job! If I was the captain, no one would ever take us seriously at the tournaments!”

“We don’t go to any tournaments.” Kanda rolled his eyes and swatted half-heartedly at Lavi’s bicep to shake him off. “We can barely keep it up here. You heard what the principal said. Find more people, or we’re out.”

“But now Allen is here, so we’re good, right?” Lavi let go of him, only to throw his arm around Allen’s shoulders instead. “You’re not in any clubs yet, are you? Help us out and join here, how about that?”

“And what will I have out of it?” Allen freed himself from the embrace and looked at them both with a frown.

“Participation points?” Lavi shrugged. “It will look good in your papers. Plus, you’ll get to hang out with two coolest guys in this school,” he added cheerfully, leaning into Kanda once again.

“I don’t know…” Allen scratched the back of his neck, hesitantly eyeing the discarded cards between them. Sure, it looked fun, but could he do that? And was it okay for him to burden his two senpais with his lack of experience? Club activities were for people to have a good time with their friends. The last thing he wanted was to get in the way.

“I’m not really sure this is my thing. Sorry. I need to go.” With a twitching smile, Allen heaved himself up, brushed his pants off and reached for his bag.

“Of course,” Kanda scoffed with a nasty smirk, not even looking at him. “Didn’t expect anything else. At least it’s good that you know when you’re too weak to handle something, Beansprout.”

“Weak?” Allen turned to him in a blink, gritting his teeth. True, he had a similar thought just a moment before – but he couldn’t stand hearing it in this tone, from this guy. “What does weakness have to do with this? It’s a memory game!”

“That just proves how little you know.” Kanda crossed his arms, finally meeting him with a burning gaze. “I’ve told you, it’s not a game. It’s a sport. You need training and technique. Reflex. Stamina. Precision. And clearly, you don’t have any of these.”

“Oh, you think so?” Allen took a step forward and dropped his bag back on the floor, fists clenching. “Challenge accepted. Bring it on, I can show you just how much I’ve got.”

“It’s pointless,” Kanda scoffed. “Waste of time. You don’t even know the poems.”

Allen held his glare, his stomach twisting. Too late to back out now.

“It’s the One Hundred Poets, right? That classical anthology. We’ve discussed them in the literature class recently. I’ll give it a shot.”

“Oi, Allen!” Lavi piped in, his eye wide and shooting between the two of them. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into? Yuu is a B class player. He’ll run you into the ground!”

“We’ll see about that.” Allen narrowed his eyes, still piercing Kanda with a furious look. Somewhere deep down, he realized he was on a straight course to disaster, but right then, he didn’t care. If he had to make a fool of himself, he’d rather do it trying than giving up.

“All right, then. Here’s a quick rundown of the rules for you, sprout.” Lavi scooted over to make room for him on the mat. “You get twenty five cards each. The first one to clear all of his is the winner. With me so far?”

Allen nodded, watching him shuffle the deck, cut it in half and in half again.

“Great.” Lavi pushed the two stacks towards them. “Here are your cards. Now, you put them in front of you and memorize the positions. Remember to pay attention to your opponent’s side as well, you’ll be taking his cards too.”

“Like hell he will,” Kanda snorted. “I’ll be damned if he can take even one in the whole match.”

“He might get lucky.” Lavi shrugged with a smirk. “You know sometimes it’s just guesswork and gamble as much as skills.”

Gamble. Allen lit up a bit, hopeful. That, he could do.

He placed his part of the deck in three rows in front of him, mirroring Kanda. The cards felt weird in is hands, thick and heavy and unfamiliar; still, he caught a glimpse of a few verses that rang a bell faintly – or so he thought. Allen glared at them with determination, doing his best to remember their positions and ignore the seething presence in front of him.

“Are you ready?” Lavi looked between them, impatiently fiddling with the reading deck at his side.

“Yes,” they replied in unison. Allen wiped his hands on his pants, anticipation tingling like steel needles on his dry tongue. Across from him, Kanda took a deep breath, his eyebrows knit together as he eyed the cards in front of him.

With a sigh, Lavi took the first card from his pile and brought it slowly to his eye. Allen barely managed to register the first word he read when Kanda already slapped a card out of his field with a force that sent it spinning to the other end of the room. Lavi leaned away just in time, clicking his tongue with reproach.

“Careful, Yuu! Wanna knock my other eye out?”

“Is that what happened to you?” Allen blurted before he could stop himself. Lavi just laughed, following Kanda with a fond gaze as he stood up to pick up the card.

“Nah, but I like telling people that just to mess with them. It’s fun to watch them get all shocked when they learn we’re actually best friends.”

“I can see that,” Allen muttered, just before Kanda returned to his place to hear it.

It went on much like he had seen in the match before. Kanda took the next card too, and the next two after that, lunging on them before Allen could even make a move. It got his blood boiling, his heart pumping faster, raising the pressure until he felt ready to burst. The frustration coursing in his veins made his head light, but his limbs felt lighter too – weightless. Matching Kanda’s swift movements, Allen started throwing himself at the cards with a newfound aggression. He was going in blindly, but it didn’t matter, just as long as he could be quicker than his opponent – just to get the card he was aiming at, just to swipe it right from under his fingers. His hand knocked into Kanda’s more times than he cared to count, always just a second too slow. Lavi’s voice, strong and oddly melodious, rose over the battlefield, a sharp contrast to their violent thuds and cries. Another card, and another – and then Allen finally got this chance. This one, he knew – he had read that line out himself not long ago.

He remembered.

And in a blink, he slammed his hand against the mat so hard it reverberated in his bones, hitting the card right in front of him and sweeping a couple others out along with it.

“Whoa, Allen!” Lavi cut himself off, staring at him with a proud grin. “Your first card! Congrats, man! It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Allen let out a heavy breath and squeezed the card tight in his fingers.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It does.”

It was not the turning point he was hoping for, though. This one small victory set him on fire, but it was merely a flickering flame compared to the roaring inferno he was faced with. A few more strikes, fast and forceful, and soon enough Kanda was giving him the obligatory bow of the winner, bent over his empty field with a neat stack of cards to his right.

“Don’t worry.” Lavi gave Allen a consoling pat on the shoulder. “You stood no chance against Yuu on your first try. Even I hardly ever get to win against him, and I’ve been playing for over ten years.”

“Wow, really?” Allen blinked at him in amazement and turned to Kanda, his frustration slowly dissipating into grudging respect. “Have you been playing that long, too?”

“More or less.” Kanda shrugged, looking right over his head at Lavi. “So, what do you think?”

“A little rough on the edges, that’s for sure.” Lavi tapped his chin with his finger, shuffling on the floor around Allen to look at him from all sides. “But you’re quick, and looks like you have a pretty good memory. You’d only seen those poems  in lit class and when you were reading out loud for us earlier, right?”

“Right.” Allen nodded, fidgeting under their insistent stares. “I guess a few of them stuck.”

“That’s great.” Lavi beamed, turning to Kanda with a shine in his eye. “Maybe he doesn’t know much yet, but he makes up for it with a hell of a fighting spirit. Some practice, and who knows what will come out of it!”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” Kanda flicked him lightly in the forehead before piercing Allen with a steel gaze again. “All right, so maybe you’re not as completely useless as you seem. And hell, we can’t be picky right now, anyway. You sure you don’t want to join?”

Allen hesitated. He thought back to the thrill of the game, the tension coiling up in him, the adrenaline-driven focus that sharpened his senses; and most of all, to the warm wave of satisfaction flooding his chest as he gripped the card taken right from under his opponent’s nose.

It was fun.

“I think I can try,” he decided, looking up at them with a small smile. “If you will have me.”

“Woohoo!” Lavi yelled and grabbed both him and Kanda by the shoulders, pulling them in a painful, awkward group hug. “Welcome to the team! Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you”

“You take care of him,” Kanda growled. “I’m not babysitting a complete newbie.”

“But Yuu! Isn’t that your responsibility? You’re the captain!”

“Yeah, and as your captain, I’m telling you to do that.”

“That’s mean.” Lavi pouted, poking Kanda in the cheek with his finger. “I’ll train him to kick your ass for this, is that what you want?”

“I’m counting on you.” Kanda gave him a punch in the arm, probably a light one by his standards, but it still made Lavi wince.

Allen watched them struggle for a moment, sinking back into the silence of the empty room. It was new to him – people wanting him to join them, to be a part of a team. Was there really something he could help them with? Even if they just took him because they needed members, it would be wrong not to give it his best. He still wasn’t sure if it was really a good idea – but somewhere inside him, the spark had already been lit, and now it was glowing faintly in his chest, warm and pleasant.

[droneseco]

Dip Your Toes Into a Smart Home, with Stitch from MonoPrice Starter Kit (Giveaway!)

Our verdict of the Stitch by Monoprice Wireless Smart Home Starter Kit, 5-Piece: A great starter kit for smart home beginners who don't have a hub. The Stitch app isn't perfect, and the products vary in usefulness, but it's great for dipping your toe into the world of home automation.810

Monoprice’s Stitch brand provides a great way to start making your home a smart home. It doesn’t require any hubs, is easy to set up, and won’t cost you a fortune. When you’re just getting started, the Stitch smart home starter kit is a great value option–discounted at $76 until 4/21/2019 (usual price $99)!

This pack comes with five products to get you moving on your smart home journey. Keep reading as we break down each one, and be sure to enter our giveaway at the end of the review for a chance to win a kit for yourself!

What’s In the Stitch Smart Home Starter Kit?

The Stitch starter kit includes the following five items:

Water Sensor

Smart Bulb

Door/Window Sensor

Smart Plug

Motion Sensor

While all of these products work over Wi-Fi and don’t require a dedicated smart home hub, you’ll need the Stitch app for Android or iOS to set them up.

Download: Stitch by Monoprice for Android | iOS (Free)

Using the Stitch App

After opening the Stitch app on your phone, you’ll need to create a new account (this is different from a Monoprice account). After this, you can start adding new devices and managing your home.

The basic process for adding a new device is tapping the Plus button at the top-right corner of the screen, then choosing the type of device you want to add from the list.

You’ll also need to put your device into the proper pairing mode so the app can find it. This varies by device—some automatically put themselves into pairing mode once you turn them on, while others require you to hold a button to activate it. This can be a bit confusing, but you’ll know a device is in pairing mode when its LED flashes quickly.

Next, let’s look at each of the devices in turn.

1. Smart Water Sensor

This is a fairly simple device that allows you to detect leaks. Place it near a toilet, hot water tank, washing machine, or other appliance that might leak. If the metal prongs on the bottom detect water, it will beep and send a notification to your phone.

While you can place the unit on the ground directly, it also includes a bracket and probe. This allows you to mount the device on a wall and snake the probe to a hard-to-reach area.

At first, we found the notifications for this were delayed slightly, but they worked fine after a bit more testing. Monoprice claims the built-in battery lasts for up to four years with two activations per month, or up to five years in standby.

2. Smart Bulb

Up next is a 50w equivalent smart bulb. Just replace any compatible bulb in your home with it, and you can then control it with the Stitch app or virtual assistants.

The bulb worked perfectly in the first lamp I tried it in. This was my first smart bulb experience, and I was pleased to find that the dimming feature worked even though my light switches don’t have that capability built in.

Since I had already linked my Stitch account to Alexa and Google Home when I reviewed Monoprice’s Strata Home vacuum , both assistants picked up the bulb without any extra steps. With voice commands, you can turn the light on or off, or change the brightness level.

3. Door/Window Sensor

Monoprice’s simple two-piece sensor lets you install the unit on any unit that opens and closes. This is usually a door or window, but you could also use it on a garage door or even a mailbox.

All you need to do is mount the two pieces close to each other (within 0.4 inches) on a door. You can do this via the included sticky tape or screws. The smaller magnetic piece goes on the door frame, while the larger part moves with the door.

When the door opens or closes, you’ll get a notification on your phone. The unit also includes a tamper-sensitive switch on the back that sends you an alert if someone tries to pull it off the door.

4. Smart Plug

Smart plugs are another staple smart home tool, and this one is easy to set up. Just plug it into any outlet, sync it to your Stitch app, and you can control lamps or other small appliances with your phone or voice.

It handily includes a color-changing light to represent different levels of energy output. Through the app, you can also review how much energy the plug has used. This piece of the kit also works with Google Assistant and Alexa. Just ask and you can turn your plug on or off. If needed, you can also use the physical button to do so.

Unfortunately, the smart plug blocked the second socket in the outlet when plugged in. This may vary depending on your home, but it’s a shame that using it renders your other socket inaccessible.

5. Motion Sensor

Wrapping up this bundle is a simple motion sensor powered using the included batteries or by plugging it in with a micro USB cable. After you’ve set it up, you can mount it using the included 3M sticky tape or screws. The sensor detects motion (up to 33 feet away) and sends your phone a notification when something walks by.

When setting it up, I received notifications that someone had tampered with the device. However, it’s not clear what triggers this, as when I took off the stand and bottom cover, the tamper notification didn’t show up again.

There’s not much more to this one. It doesn’t seem as useful as some of the other items due to the potential for false positives (perhaps from a pet). But it’s still a neat little gadget.

How Is Stitch as a Smart Home Platform?

Now that we’ve looked at all five products, how do they and Stitch as a whole feel to use?

Overall, this is a solid starter kit for a smart home beginner. All devices are easy to use out of the box, the lack of hub is convenient, and the products “just work” for the most part. The Stitch app also lets you organize your devices by room and set up automated routines, which is neat.

However, Stitch has a few minor issues that prevent it from being stellar.

The setup could use a bit more direction. Some of these products go into pairing mode as soon as you insert the batteries. Conversely, the water sensor had a clear tab over the battery (which the manual didn’t mention) for activation. Meanwhile, the smart plug requires you to hold the power button to enter pairing mode. Having this become more consistent across devices or more obviously spelled out would be an improvement.

Stitch also doesn’t make it clear what functions of each device you can use with Alexa and Google Assistant. Since you can set a timer for the smart plug using the app, I tried doing so with a voice command, but that didn’t work.

Actually, the Echo itself seemed confused about what it could do with these devices. After setting up the motion sensor, Alexa let me know that I could ask her to enable it. Yet when I asked her to disable the Stitch motion sensor, she instead disabled the entire Stitch integration. This required me to re-connect accounts in the Alexa app.

Finally, the Stitch app offers no way to change individual notifications on Android. Since you don’t have fine-grained control, the notifications can get a bit overwhelming if the sensors go off several times in a row.

Should Stitch Be the Start of Your Smart Home?

With all these products considered, we’d say that Stitch represents a fine way to dip your toe into smart home automation. For less than $100, you get five varied products that are easy to use.

The Stitch app isn’t perfect, but it’s totally serviceable. If you don’t want a bevy of advanced smart home products yet and don’t mind a few quirks in the app and setup, give this a look.

Note that these products are also available individually. If you don’t plan on using one of them, you can order the others separately to save some money.

Enter the Competition!

Stitch Smart Home Kit Giveaway

Read the full article: Dip Your Toes Into a Smart Home, with Stitch from MonoPrice Starter Kit (Giveaway!)

Dip Your Toes Into a Smart Home, with Stitch from MonoPrice Starter Kit (Giveaway!) published first on http://droneseco.tumblr.com/

[shatteredskies042]

NaNo Day 14

“I don’t mean to be rude or crass about this,” Ally prefaced, looking at one of the pieces of garlic bread before taking a bite out of it. “But there’s bigger problems and things you need to be dealing with that’s not just these mercs,” she told him, looking up at the soldier. “I understand, I do, but if you focus on this, you’re going to suffer in other places.”

Michael fell quiet, quieter than he did when talking about his loss earlier. “You’re not gonna talk me out of this, Ally,” he promised her.

“I have to try,” she implored quietly as she watched him, “you need to let this go, before it eats you alive and gets you killed.” When she got no response, she sighed deeply, “I’m not helping you with this.”

“I never asked,” he said softly. “It’s my fight, not yours.”

Ally fell quiet too, knowing she wouldn’t get to change his mind. She kept eating, as did he, until they were both finished. Without a word, she took both their plates and started to clean as he rested against the table. Once the dishes were clean, or otherwise soaking, she turned to him. “Come on,” she told him, cocking her head and walking for the hallway.

Michael stood and followed her, looking around their surroundings before they reached a heavy door. A smile came over the blonde’s lips as she pushed the door open, and turned the lights on inside. “I know you’ll appreciate this room,” she told him.

He looked around, a smile coming to his lips. “You know me fairly well,” he grinned. It was a large room, one of the interior rooms in the structure, but he foresaw himself spending a good bit of time here: The walls were lined with weapons, one wall had rifles and other long weapons in neat racks, another rows of swords and hammers. Other sections had rows of handguns, knives, body armor, “how long have you been building this arsenal?” he asked as he walked around the workbenches.

“A while,” she promised with a grin. “Funny enough, I only had to make a few minor adjustments to the room to update it,” she said as she walked to a row of metal cages. She opened them for him to inspect, and he strode over to peer inside: some held crates of ammunition, grenades, others cases of heavy weapons.

“Planning on running an insurgency?” Michael asked as he wandered, inspecting the gear. “What’s this armor made of?” he asked, running his hand over the rough, scaled surface.

“One of my dreams is to restore this place to what it was, bring back the Huntsmen as a peacekeeping force,” she said, “teach what I know to them. As for that,” Ally joined him, and took one of the vests off the rack. “Dragons, they shed scales a lot, just like dead skin,” she explained. “I’m on good terms with two of the biggest groups of them, and they have people who make armor out of the scales, and I get a fair sized cut of the production,” she grinned.

“And how good is it?” Michael asked.

“Lightweight, so it doesn’t restrict your movement,” she promised first. “But it resists small arms fire better than anything out there right now, as well as providing good defense against heat and fire.”

“Would have loved to have that,” he mused as he looked back at her. “What about the rest of these weapons?” he asked.

“I’ve got a friendly neighborhood arms dealer,” she grinned, “I’ve actually been using the same one for years, Sol has always been good to me,” she told him. “If you want anything specific, I can let her know and she’ll be more than happy to accommodate you,” she said with a smile. “You’ve got your handgun, but I suspect you want more.”

“You’d be correct,” Michael agreed as he looked over the rifles. Some were a mix of older M4 rifles, while some were the newer 416 model. “I’ll get you a list in the morning,” he promised.

“Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to manipulate Excalibur,” Ally promised, before gesturing for him to follow her again.

“Excalibur?” Michael asked, before his tired mind put the pieces together. “Wait, as in, King Arthur’s sword?”

“Only someone worthy may wield it,” Ally told him as they walked, “and those the wielder designates or allows. And that old sword has quite a few tricks you’ll enjoy or come in handy,” she promised with a smirk as they entered a large room. It was almost like a gym, with a raised platform in the center. She stepped up onto the white platform, walking to the far side. Moonlight streamed down from a skylight ceiling, and Michael looked around cautiously. “As for now, I want to test something,” she grinned wickedly, then a pair of swords appeared in her hands.

“This doesn’t look like something I’ll survive or enjoy,” Michael observed, taking a defensive posture.

“Don’t worry,” she promised, a dangerous look in her eye as she tossed one of the swords to him on a flat trajectory. “I won’t hurt you, much.”

Michael reached out and caught it by the handle, feeling the lightweight of the weapon and the way it molded to his hand. “I don’t know how to fight with a sword,” he told her, holding it up as he examined the weapon. The blade glowed in the dim light, with a gold guard and some sort of upswept material running part of the blade.

“Then you’re going to learn,” Ally told him, before she ran at him with the other sword.

Michael tore his eyes from the blade and onto her and her attack. He had trained for defeating an opponent with a knife, and he tried to apply that training here. He quickly committed to the objective of disarming her so he could fight her hand to hand, where he felt he had a better chance. As she approached, he swung the sword to meet her oncoming attack, bracing against the coming strike. He pulled everything he had seen in movies to the front of his brain for reference, hoping it would do him some good.

The first parry came as a hammer blow that shuddered through his tired arms. Michael retreated a step, then swung, almost using the sword like a baseball bat. The blonde parried it easily, a look in her eyes that he could do better. He caught her body weight shifting, and dove into a roll to the side as she kicked out at him. Once he got to his feet, she was on him, swinging at his half crouched form. Michael met each oncoming blow, feeling his hands move to block without thinking about it.

He was losing ground and barely holding off, but he thought he was doing good. At least, until Ally kicked one of his legs out from under him as he was focused on blocking. Michael stumbled, and she took advantage of his poor position.

He barely had time as she levied a powerful strike against his sword, knocking it to the side. The blonde spun, one of her hands coming off the hilt of her weapon and latching onto his hands, while the blade of her weapon stopped at his neck. She wore a proud smirk, holding the position for a moment before she backed away with a flourish of her blade.

“Not bad, for a beginner,” she said, looking at the panting and defeated soldier. “You still have a long way to go,” she told him. Ally had a hunch, and was going to explore it. “Again?” she asked, after giving him enough time to recover.

Michael nodded, looking up at her, before he adopted the same posture until she came after him again. He parried her initial strike, then formed a plan in the milliseconds before the next. He stepped backwards quickly, putting some space between him and the blonde, and waiting for her to attack again.

As he expected, she came at him with a downwards strike, and he made his move. Michael sprung under her, driving his shoulder into her torso to stagger her back. Her strike followed through, and instead she hit him with the pommel of her sword in the ribs. Then she did something unexpected.

Ally pushed off her hands on the sword on his back, and acrobatically jumped, using where she struck him as a pivot point around him. Before he could get out of the way, she was on his other side, and he dove away as he felt a slice of pain come from his calf. He landed oddly, and stumbled, coming up to look up past the entire body of Ally’s sword and at the grinning blonde. “At least you’re trying,” she said, “get up,” she told him, backing away.

Michael hesitated for a minute, looking down at his cut and bloodied pantleg, she’d barely nicked him, but it spoke to the otherworldly sharpness of the blade. The soldier stood up, favoring his other leg and adjusting his stance so he wasn’t putting as much weight on his injury.

“You’re not going to last long on that,” Ally pointed out, twirling her blade around.

“I’m not going to last long anyway,” he told her, before he charged her, taking the initiative and hoping things would work out differently.

She entertained the thought, easily and almost boredly blocking his untrained strikes. “You’re putting too much into your attacks,” she told him, dancing around him and blocking his strikes. “Use the sword as an extension of yourself, it’s not a club or a baseball bat,” she chided, putting separation between them. “Slow down,” she told him, looking in his eyes. “You’re taking things too fast, trying to make something happen when you don’t have a clue as to how to bring it about,” Ally told him. “Breathe, feel the weapon in your hands, then come at me,” she instructed.

Michael slowed as she started teaching, adjusting his tight grip on the sword as she spoke to him. His inexperience was getting him beat, and the injury wasn’t helping. Michael forced the idea from his mind before he advanced again, breathing steadily as he watched her movements as she moved to block his attacks. She was just too fast, too good at this, and he had to change something, get her unarmed, something.

He went to strike at her again, to lock their blades together before he acted. He drug the blade down almost to where their guards were together, and stepped closer to her. He slid one of his hands off his blade and onto her hands, like she had done to him earlier, and tried to pry her weapon away.

She pulled one hand away from his grip, cocking back into a fist, telegraphing the strike and knowing he could not do anything about it. He lowered his head so she struck his skull instead of something softer, and felt the stars erupt in his vision as he moved. He tore his other hand away from hers and wrapped around her bicep, trying to throw her or move her off her base, and actually succeeded. However, he lost his sword in the process, the blade clattering to the floor as Ally rolled to her feet, then sprung at him.

Michael turned to face her, bringing his hands up defensively as she marauded towards him. He stepped out of the way of her attack, and on his sidestepped began to move to strike her until he felt something poke at his side. Michael froze, then looked over, and saw her sword laid flatly against his side.

“Never lose your weapon,” Ally chided, the swords disappearing as she looked at him with a hint of a smile. “Not bad,” she complimented. She reached out slowly and touched his shoulder, her hand glowing as she closed her eyes and healed his injury. “You’ve got the training and dedication,” she said quietly, “but there aren’t many who can go toe to toe with me.”

“I’m all for training and learning,” Michael stated, “but I don’t fight with swords,” he told the blonde once she finished, stepping away to give her space.

“You do now,” the angel told him, walking back to the living area. Michael gingerly followed after her, still feeling the remnants of pain in his leg. “It’s another important tool you can carry and use, and knowing how to defend against someone using one is important too,” she promised.

“But you’ve been doing this for a while,” Michael observed as they walked.

“Who better to teach you?” she grinned as she glanced at him. “And that? About a quarter speed, faster than any human attacker you’d face,” she told him, to at least build him up a little after the defeat. “You start beating me then, and I’ll step it up, until you’re beating me consistently again, until you can stand toe to toe with me at full speed,” she told him, outlining her entire training method.

“There’s one problem with that,” he said, looking at her to point out the one big flaw: “I’m not an angel, I don’t have any supernatural powers,” he reminded her.

“All the more reason for you to train harder and harder,” she countered. “So you can fight vampires and angels and demons and whatever else you’ll face working with me. Besides, have you ever backed down from a challenge?” she tested him with a smirk.

“I don’t intend to start now,” he told her.

“Good,” the blonde said affirmatively as they returned to the living room. “For now, go upstairs and rest. Tomorrow, I want you to explore the Institute more, then I’m going to take you to meet some of my friends.”

“Are they going to attack me?” he wondered quietly.

“They shouldn’t,” she grinned, “sleep well, Michael,” the blonde wished, before she turned on her heel and walked into another wing of the Institute.

Michael watched her go, then went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He drank down a cup, then refilled it and headed upstairs to his new bedroom. He changed into shorts and a simple shirt, finding his sword and handgun on one of the dressers. He would have to put pictures up at some point, but for now, he moved his handgun to the nightstand just out of sight.

He slipped into the stiff sheets, and laid his head down on the pillow. It was like sleeping in a hotel, somewhere unfamiliar, it was strange at first. He stared at the ceiling for a good while, thinking about what had happened today, what he had learned, and knew this was the beginning of something. Something that would probably get him killed, but he had to try and see it through.

Sleep finally came for him, but it proved hardly restful. Even as busy as he had been, the nightmares plaguing him attacked in this barely guarded moment. Playing horrible images of the ambush in Siberia, seeing the people he knew and care about die horribly, and being powerless to save them. Then came the events of Georgia, of a struggling family of a man he had killed, of the body of the innocent... what? Technician? Analyst? The innocent, unarmed man he had shot and killed just out of reflex.

The whole scene played through in his mind again, but the man did not die, instead looking accusingly at Michael as he stood with the pistol in hand. He spoke in Russian, speaking of his wife and infant son, how they would be at risk without him.

About how much of a monster Michael was for killing him.

Fire and light engulfed him, and Michael bolted awake with his hands coming up to shield his face from the onslaught. He breathed deeply, his lungs burning, seemingly from disuse. Once he calmed down, he palmed his hands over his face, wiping the sweat from his skin.

He pulled himself out of bed, and found his watch on the nightstand, checking the time. He’d only slept for close to three hours, and he knew he needed more, but after that, he doubted it would come to him anytime soon.

Michael shuffled out of bed and out the door to the bedroom, back towards the walkway over the kitchen and living area. He leaned on the railing and stared out at the dark, moonlit forest out the second-floor windows of the Institute. This was dangerous, he knew, just letting his mind think and work over problems, knowing it would only feed into his issues and problems recursively. The moment he stopped occupying his mind he put himself at risk.

“Can’t sleep?”

Word Count: 28000 something

[t-baba]

Understanding the Model-View-Controller (MVC) Architecture in Rails

The following is a short extract from our book, Rails: Novice to Ninja, 3rd Edition, written by Glenn Goodrich and Patrick Lenz. It's the ultimate beginner's guide to Rails. SitePoint Premium members get access with their membership, or you can buy a copy in stores worldwide.

The model-view-controller (MVC) architecture that we first encountered in Chapter 1 is not unique to Rails. In fact, it predates both Rails and the Ruby language by many years. Rails, however, really takes the idea of separating an application's data, user interface, and control logic to a whole new level.

Let's take a look at the concepts behind building an application using the MVC architecture. Once we have the theory in place, we'll see how it translates to our Rails code.

MVC in Theory

MVC is a pattern for the architecture of a software application. It separates an application into the following components:

Models for handling data and business logic

Controllers for handling the user interface and application

Views for handling graphical user interface objects and presentation

This separation results in user requests being processed as follows:

The browser (on the client) sends a request for a page to the controller on the server.

The controller retrieves the data it needs from the model in order to respond to the request.

The controller gives the retrieved data to the view.

The view is rendered and sent back to the client for the browser to display.

This process is illustrated in Figure 4-2 below.

Separating a software application into these three distinct components is a good idea for a number of reasons, including:

improved scalability (the ability for an application to grow)–for example, if your application begins experiencing performance issues because database access is slow, you can upgrade the hardware running the database without other components being affected

ease of maintenance—as the components have a low dependency on each other, making changes to one (to fix bugs or change functionality) does not affect another

reusability—a model may be reused by multiple views

If you're struggling to get your head around the concept of MVC, don't worry. For now, what's important to remember is that your Rails application is separated into three distinct components. Jump back to the MVC diagram if you need to refer to it later on.

MVC the Rails Way

Rails promotes the concept that models, views, and controllers should be kept separate by storing the code for each element as separate files in separate directories.

This is where the Rails directory structure that we created back in Chapter 2 comes into play. It's time to poke around a bit within that structure. If you take a look inside the app directory, depicted in Figure 4-3, you'll see some folders whose names might start to sound familiar.

As you can see, each component of the model-view-controller architecture has its place within the app subdirectory—the models, views, and controllers subdirectories respectively. (We'll talk about assets in Chapter 7, helpers in Chapter 6, and mailers later on in this chapter. jobs and channels are beyond the scope of this book.)

This separation continues within the code that comprises the framework itself. The classes that form the core functionality of Rails reside within the following modules:

ActiveRecord

ActiveRecord is the module for handling business logic and database communication. It plays the role of model in our MVC architecture.While it might seem odd that ActiveRecord doesn't have the word “model” in its name, there is a reason for this: Active Record is also the name of a famous design pattern—one that this component implements in order to perform its role in the MVC world. Besides, if it had been called ActionModel, it would have sounded more like an overpaid Hollywood star than a software component …

ActionController

ActionController is the component that handles browser requests and facilitates communication between the model and the view. Your controllers will inherit from this class. It forms part of the ActionPack library, a collection of Rails components that we'll explore in depth in Chapter 5.

ActionView

code>ActionView is the component that handles the presentation of pages returned to the client. Views inherit from this class, which is also part of the ActionPack library.

Let's take a closer look at each of these components in turn.

The ActiveRecord Module

ActiveRecord is designed to handle all of an application's tasks that relate to the database, including:

establishing a connection to the database server

retrieving data from a table

storing new data in the database

ActiveRecord has a few other neat tricks up its sleeve. Let's look at some of them now.

Database Abstraction

ActiveRecord ships with database adapters to connect to SQLite, MySQL, and PostgreSQL. A large number of adapters are available for other popular database server packages, such as Oracle, MongoDB, and Microsoft SQL Server, via RubyGems.

The ActiveRecord module is based on the concept of database abstraction. As a refresher from Chapter 1, database abstraction is a way of coding an application so that it isn't dependent upon any one database. Code that's specific to a particular database server is hidden safely in ActiveRecord, and invoked as needed. The result is that a Rails application is not bound to any specific database server software. Should you need to change the underlying database server at a later time, no changes to your application code are required.

Note: The Jury's Out on ActiveRecord

As I said, ActiveRecord is an implementation of the Active Record pattern. There are those that disagree with the approach taken by ActiveRecord, so you'll hear a lot about that, too. For now, I suggest you learn the way ActiveRecord works, then form your judgement of the implementation as you learn.

Some examples of code that differ greatly between vendors, and which ActiveRecord abstracts, include:

the process of logging into the database server

date calculations

handling of Boolean (true/false) data

evolution of your database structure

Before I can show you the magic of ActiveRecord in action, though, a little housekeeping is necessary.

Database Tables

Tables are the containers within a relational database that store our data in a structured manner, and they're made up of rows and columns. The rows map to individual objects, and the columns map to the attributes of those objects. The collection of all the tables in a database, and the relationships between those tables, is called the database schema. An example of a table is shown in Figure 4-4.

In Rails, the naming of Ruby classes and database tables follows an intuitive pattern: if we have a table called stories that consists of five rows, this table will store the data for five Story objects. What's nice about the mapping between classes and tables is that there's no need to write code to achieve it; the mapping just happens, because ActiveRecord infers the name of the table from the name of the class.

Note that the name of our class in Ruby is a singular noun (Story), but the name of the table is plural (stories). This relationship makes sense if you think about it: when we refer to a Story object in Ruby, we're dealing with a single story. But the SQL table holds a multitude of stories, so its name should be plural. While you can override these conventions—as is sometimes necessary when dealing with legacy databases—it's much easier to adhere to them.

The close relationship between objects and tables extends even further. If our stories table were to have a link column, as our example in Figure 4-4 does, the data in this column would automatically be mapped to the link attribute in a Story object. And adding a new column to a table would cause an attribute of the same name to become available in all of that table's corresponding objects.

So, let's create some tables to hold the stories we create.

For the time being, we'll create a table using the old-fashioned approach of entering SQL into the SQLite console. You could type out the following SQL commands, although typing out SQL is no fun. Instead, I encourage you to download the following script from the code archive, and copy and paste it straight into your SQLite console that you invoked via the following command in the application directory:

$ sqlite3 db/development.sqlite3

Once your SQLite console is up, paste in the following:

CREATE TABLE stories ( "id" INTEGER PRIMARY KEY AUTOINCREMENT NOT NULL, "name" varchar(255) DEFAULT NULL, "link" varchar(255) DEFAULT NULL, "created_at" datetime DEFAULT NULL, "updated_at" datetime DEFAULT NULL );

You don't have to worry about remembering these SQL commands to use in your own projects; instead, take heart in knowing that in Chapter 5 we'll look at migrations. Migrations are special Ruby classes that we can write to create database tables for our application without using any SQL at all.

Note: Seek some SQL Smarts

Even though Rails abstracts away the SQL required to create tables and database objects, you'd be doing yourself a favor if you become familiar with SQL and its syntax. SitePoint has published a book on learning SQL, so check that one out.

Using the Rails Console

Now that we have our stories table in place, let's exit the SQLite console (simply type .quit) and open up a Rails console. A Rails console is just like the interactive Ruby console (irb) that we used in Chapter 2, but with one key difference. In a Rails console, you have access to all the environment variables and classes that are available to your application while it's running. These are not available from within a standard irb console.

To enter a Rails console, change to your readit folder, and enter the command rails console or rails c, as shown in the code that follows. The >> prompt is ready to accept your commands:

$ cd readit $ rails console Loading development environment (Rails 5.0.0) >>

Saving an Object

To start using ActiveRecord, simply define a class that inherits from the ActiveRecord::Base. We touched on the :: operator very briefly in Chapter 3, where we mentioned that it was a way to invoke class methods on an object. It can also be used to refer to classes that exist within a module, which is what we're doing here. Flip back to the section on object-oriented programming (OOP) inChapter 3 if you need a refresher on inheritance.

Consider the following code snippet:

class Story < ActiveRecord::Base end

These two lines of code define a seemingly empty class called Story; however, this class is far from empty, as we'll soon see.

From the Rails console, let's create this Story class and an instance of the class called story by entering these commands:

>> class Story < ActiveRecord::Base; end => nil >> story = Story.new => #<Story id: nil, name: nil, url: nil, created_at: nil, updated_at: nil> >> story.class => Story(id: integer, name: string, link: string, created_at: datetime, updated_at: datetime)

As you can see, the syntax for creating a new ActiveRecord object is identical to the syntax we used to create other Ruby objects in Chapter 3. At this point, we've created a new Story object; however, this object exists in memory only—we're yet to store it in our database.

We can confirm that our Story object hasn't been saved by checking the return value of the new_record? method:

>> story.new_record? => true

Since the object is yet to be saved, it will be lost when we exit the Rails console. To save it to the database, we invoke the object's save method:

>> story.save => true

Now that we've saved our object (a return value of true indicates that the save method was successful), our story is no longer a new record. It's even been assigned a unique ID:

>> story.new_record? => false >> story.id => 1

Defining Relationships between Objects

As well as the basic functionality that we've just seen, ActiveRecord makes the process of defining relationships (or associations) between objects as easy as it can be. Of course, it's possible with some database servers to define such relationships entirely within the database schema. In order to put ActiveRecord through its paces, let's look at the way it defines these relationships within Rails instead.

Object relationships can be defined in a variety of ways; the main difference between these relationships is the number of records that are specified in the relationship. The primary types of database association are:

Continue reading %Understanding the Model-View-Controller (MVC) Architecture in Rails%

by Glenn Goodrich via SitePoint http://ift.tt/2yLOnUr

[thesixweekseeker]

Kauai: The Garden Isle (South Shore)

(January 2017)

I just wrapped up my time in Kauai and I could not have imagined a better place to spend the New Year and launch our January Six Week groups: A+++.  We decided to start our Kauai adventure on the South Shore “the sunny side of the island” and had the good fortune to have Steve from Steve’s Taxis, who grabbed us from Lihue Airport on day one.   He became our super helpful “hey – what’s the best place for…” guy over the next few days as he was taking us to/from excursions.  (Side note on getting around in the South Shore: if you go over the holidays, and get quoted a ridiculous amount for car rentals like we did, using a taxi is totally do-able and you’ll likely come out positive vs the rental price.) 

We picked Koloa Landing for our hotel option, and this turned out to be a great choice for the no-car situation. We were a five-minute walk to the beach and within easy walking distance to all of the little village centers.  It was a large property with good pools, hot tubs, a practice putting green and the rooms are big and recently updated.  The big winner for me was the washing and drying machines IN THE ROOM.  Coming from 2.5 years of needing to schlep my laundry a few blocks to the wash and fold, I felt like a big time baller.  If traveling to the area, especially if you don’t have kids (fine if you do – just less “kid crowded” than the other nearby hotels) this is a great option without breaking the bank.

Once lodging was situated, I of course needed to find and become friends with a local barista (me caffeinated = everyone benefits).  I was excited to find my new local coffee shop in Koloa: Cortado Coffee Bar. I met the owner Schuyler, who decided to pack up life and relocate to Kauai (good choice) three years ago and set up this small fabulous coffee shop.  There were several drinks on the menu that I wanted to try, but this cute bubbly girl in front me told me to get the CocoLoco since that’s what she had every morning for the past two weeks, and I of course wanted to be cool like her, so I got the CocoLoco… and proceeded to come back for that drink every morning during my time there.  The CocoLoco included a delicious blend of espresso, cayenne, coconut milk, local raw honey and coffee ice cubes.  For my Six Weekers, I’m now throwing in some cayenne with my coffee, coconut oil and cinnamon blend and it gives it a nice little kick.  From someone who usually doesn’t like the kick – this is a big deal.  Five stars to you Schulyer for making my morning java jolt fantastic!

Now that coffee was covered, I had a goal to eat fish tacos for every meal. Luckily I didn’t accomplish that goal, but I did find Savage Shrimp in the Kukulu'ula Village shopping center (just a few minutes’ walk from Cortado).  It’s a little hole in the wall but please do yourself a favor and get one order of the Garlic Shrimp Tacos and one order of the Fish Tacos.  The service is definitely on Hawaiian time, but well worth the wait brah.  Another winner for fish tacos was Duke’s in Lihue, which also happens to serve a gigantic complimentary macadamia nut ice cream chocolate something for birthdays, so they clearly won my heart. (This happened in between Six Week programs so don’t judge.)

One of my favorite dining experiences of the trip was dinner at The Beach House.  Look ahead to see what time the sunset is on the night you want to go, then make your reservation for about 30 minutes before that.  In addition to amazingly fresh fish dishes, you will have a front row seat to an epic sunset.  They have a professional photographer there if you want a legit pic and you can go to/from your table during the sunset to take it all in if/as much as you want.  Another bonus - if you have a celebratory bottle of wine that you want to bring with you, which we did, they only charge you a small corkage fee.  Double bonus, since we had a special birthday that night, they waived the fee.  High five.  

Two additional favorites that are well worth the mention: Kauai Juice Company and Anuenue Café.  Kauai Juice Company has a great story as the owner got her start by making homemade Kombucha on the side.  Through the support of her community who helped her raise funds through a Kickstarter, she has successfully started her business and is now in three locations on the island using 100% organic and locally-sourced ingredients.  The girls behind the bar (who all happen to be beautiful, friendly and helpful – so I’m guessing the juice works, right?) anyway, they introduced me to the benefits of Blue Magik Algae and Moringa.  Since I hadn’t tried either in my previous juice concoctions, I went with the Avatar, Shine On and Sexy Baby Maker (because why not) and all three were super.  

Anuenue Café was right next door, and was the only spot open for breakfast on New Year’s Day, so we gave it a shot.  I’m not sure if it was that crowded because of New Year’s or if it’s always that packed (assuming the latter) but it was worth the hour wait.  I was greeted by the friendly owner who rocked my world when she had me order the Rip Tide (Eggs Benedict with Kalua Pork) and also had me get some Haupia Macadamia Nut French Toast on the side (twist my arm but again, in between Six Week courses, so game on).

Since my life isn’t JUST about finding great food, I wanted to get out there and explore everything that the South Shore had to offer.  We went big on day two and set out with Mauna Loa Helicopters to see the island.  Bruno, our happy Brazilian pilot, took us all over beautiful Kauai and kept us entertained with his music and commentary for the entire hour.  We decided to go “doors off” and I would HIGHLY recommend it as you get more of an adventure, the best unobstructed views and most importantly there is no glare in your selfie game. 

There were tons of great options for helicopter tours in Kauai, but I picked Mauna Loa because they were the only ones that offered the two seater planes/private ride – and let’s be real, I don’t like to share my toys.  Since 90% of the island is only visible by air, and you definitely don’t want to miss Na Pali Coast, Jurassic Falls, Waimea Canyon and Mt. Waiale’ale Crater from up top, make this a top priority if you are visiting the island.  It was unbelievable and hands down my favorite experience in Kauai.

A close second was the kayak/hike/waterfall swim that I did with Ancient River Kayaks.  You do a tandem 2-mile kayak ride on the Wailua River.  (Fun fact: Wailua River is the original home to the very first Hawaiians.)  After the beautiful 2-mile kayak, you have about 1.2(ish) miles of hiking through the rain forest in search of your half-way point destination: Secret Falls.  This is a 120-foot waterfall into a natural pool, and though it was on the “brisk” side, taking a dip in and behind the waterfall was such a cool experience.  We took a break at the falls for some lunch (provided by them) and we got to learn more about our awesome tour guide Annie. Huffington Post featured her in an article and my favorite quote from that (which rings true for most people that I met in Kauai) “I’m so rich here. I mean, I don’t have a lot of money but my quality of life is abundant. I get to do what I love every day and my heart is so full.”  

Side note: once you finish the return hike and kayak back, you should definitely head over next door to Lava Lava Beach Club on Waikoloa Beach.  This is the perfect spot to grab some beers (I was hooked on Wailua Wheat– great golden ale with a passionfruit flavor) and you can even watch some highlights of your favorite sports team losing to USC ...sigh.  

We did the obligatory luau and chose the Grand Hyatt Luau on NYE.   I was told the Hyatt and Smith’s were the two best luaus on the island and this one did not disappoint (though I’ve never been to any other luaus so I can’t compare).  It was neat to see the rich history of the island and its local people, and they had performances/tributes for all of the “relative” islands (Samoa, New Zealand, Tahiti).  Since we had a birthday in the house, we were selected to go up with a few people to learn how to hula in front of everyone.  I failed pretty miserably at this.  However, where I didn’t fail is the all-you-can-eat buffet.  Our host told us that we would fall in love at a luau …and I did …. with Kalua Pork.  As I mentioned with my world being rocked at Anuenue (the day after this luau happened) this pork tasted beyond delish.  Click here for a recipe (Six Week allowed) which includes three ingredients: pork butt, natural liquid smoke (make sure no molasses added) and Hawaiian sea salt.  Pop those bad boys into a slow cooker for 7-12 hours and you will fall in love too.  

Once I was done eating all of their food, I of course wanted to see some fireworks on NYE.  I was laughed at when I asked if the fireworks went off at midnight, to which the reply was “oh honey, the entire island is asleep by 9 – fireworks are at 8.”  So we capped off NYE with some early fireworks over Poipu Beach and went to bed like the rest of the island … at 9pm.  Cue 2017.

To cap off the South Shore adventure, we decided to go surfing on the last day. There is no shortage of surf schools in Kauai but we stumbled upon Kauai Surf School.  It was a picture perfect day in Poipu and the baby waves by the surf school were perfect for my beginner skills.  Asher was our instructor for the day, and he obliged when I asked him to pretty please just push me right into each wave for two hours so I could easily stand up and feel like a stud on my board - thanks Asher.  I was gaining major confidence with my surfing ability and felt ready to try out the North Shore surf as we were heading to Hanalei the following day.  FAIL.  To read more on the episode of Susie vs Surf Board, check out Part II of my Kauai blog.