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abugeatbugworld · 2 years ago

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Falling, Part Two

part one

dedicated to @whiteswarmart and their undying love for dot and dim. thanks for the inspiration <3

“Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re almost there.”

Dot rolls onto her belly and cracks one eye reluctantly open to see Dim gazing back at her. The moonlight reflects in his pupils, tiny stars sparkling in pools of black. She doesn’t remember falling asleep on her beetle friend, but it must have been hours ago.

“Five more minutes, Dad,” she says with a yawn. His laughter rumbles in her bones and she digs her knees deeper into the sides of his nose, afraid of saying something so funny he’ll shake her right off.

“Not ‘Dad,’” Dim corrects her. “I’m your brother. Remember?”

Dot smiles and pushes herself into a sitting position, swinging her feet back and forth over the dirt several inches beneath them. “Do you really think of me that way?”

Dim looks surprised by the question. “Of course,” he says. “You and all your friends. Don’t you think of me that way?”

Dot’s heart aches at the hint of hurt in her friend’s voice. Rosie once told her that Dim was abandoned by his parents and left on his own until the black widow took him in, so he tended to be extra sensitive when it came to the idea of family.

She scoots forward to plant a kiss between his eyebrows, leaning back just in time to catch the light pink hue rising in his cheeks.

“Of course I do. You’re the best big brother ever.” She cups her hand over her mouth and says the next part in a hushed voice. “And Francis is the best Den Mother.”

“I heard that, you little raisin!” the ladybug shouts from somewhere inside the wagon.

Dot giggles, then glances backward to see the other circus bugs beginning to stir from their slumber. Flik is the only one who seems to be wide awake, standing at the edge of the wagon’s opening and gazing into the distance. The expression on his face makes her stomach curl into knots.

At this moment, Dot’s friend doesn’t look like a chief about to lead his warriors into battle against the grasshoppers.

He looks afraid.

His eyes suddenly flicker to Dot’s, and just like that the fear is gone. A tired smile takes its place. She gives one right back, adding a thumbs up for good measure. Out of the corner of her eyes she sees Dim doing the same.

Flik’s smile widens before he’s summoned by Slim, who wants to go over their plan one last time. He gives her the smallest wave before turning his attention to his troops. Dot wonders if he’s slept at all since leaving the Island.

“Are you nervous, Your Highness?”

Dot smiles at how the beetle insists on calling her by her royal titles, even though she’s told him a million times that Dot is just fine.

“A little,” she admits, tracing the tip of her finger along the curve of his nose as she thinks through her answer. “I mean, I think the bird will work. It’s Flik’s invention after all, and his inventions are the best. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Dot bites down on her lower lip as it begins to tremble. She hates how after all this time the fear is still there, waiting to strike.

To remind her how small she is.

“I’m afraid of seeing Hopper again,” she finally says. Something sparks painfully in her chest. “And Thumper.”

“Thumper,” Dim repeats slowly. His eyes narrow, the stars eclipsed by angry shadows. “He’s the one that made you fall?”

Dot nods, clenching her eyes shut as she tries to push the memory from her mind. Her stomach swoops as though she’s in mid-air again, dropping like a stone through the fog and waiting for the ground to break her fall. And everything else.

What was that breathing trick Atta taught her? In, one-two-three. Out, one-two-three. In, one-two-three. Out, one-two—

“Princess?”

Dot opens her eyes and swivels her head to look at Dim. The fury in his eyes has melted into worry and…something else. Pain?

Dot gasps as she realizes that her fingertips are digging into her friend’s flesh. She quickly lets go, wincing at the tiny divots left behind.

“Sorry Dim,” she whispers, ignoring the prickle of tears in her eyes and giving him a wobbly grin.

He doesn’t seem to hear her. “I oughta rip that Thumper to shreds,” he seethes, stopping to paw at the ground as though getting ready to charge.

Hearing her gentle friend say something so violent cheers Dot up instantly. She giggles and leans over to pat his nose. “It’s okay, Dim. I’m okay now, right? Besides, I can fly now thanks to him.”

She emphasizes her point with a flutter of her wings, a sensation that still feels strange in the best kind of way.

Dim is quiet for a moment. Somewhere in the distance a cricket chirps, announcing to the world that night has fallen just in case they didn’t notice the darkness.

Finally the beetle speaks. His voice is so soft that Dot almost misses it.

“Yeah, but he still tried to hurt you.”

Dot can’t bring herself to look into her friend’s eyes, knowing that if she does the tears will come back and she might not be able to stop them. Instead she lays her cheek against the bridge of his nose and runs her hand along the smooth skin of his cheek.

“Yeah, he did,” she whispers.

They’re both silent for a while. Eventually Dot rolls over so she’s lying on her back, staring up at the stars peeking through the canopy of clovers above her. It seems like only moments ago she was staring up at that same sky from the top of one of those clovers, her heart breaking in two as she remembered how Flik and the circus bugs had looked after Atta sent them away. She’d refused to sleep that night, sure that the bad dreams would come back and there would be no one there to wake her up.

No one to protect her.

But now they’re here, and they’re going back to fight the nightmares together. She doesn’t have to be afraid of grasshoppers anymore. The bird will scare them all away and the ants will be free from them forever. Even if some do stay behind and try to fight, Dot knows her friends won’t let anything happen to her. After all, Dim is twice the size of all of them. Even Thumper.

Dot’s antennae perk up, a smile slowly spreading across her face. She flips onto her stomach and then rises into the air, hovering so she’s at eye level with her very large beetle brother.

“Hey Dim,” she says, flashing him her most mischievous grin. “Wanna help me get Thumper back?”

#a bug's life #pixar #disney pixar #pixar movie #pixar movies #pixar fanfic #disney fanfiction #fanfics #dot #flik #dim

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

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Okay what about going to the pumpkin patch and carving them with Calum

I can do that. Reader Insert. No gender or race.

Halloween blurb night going until 8PM PDT. Writing for Shawn Mendes, 5sos, Harry Styles and FAHC.

See the Halloween Blurb Night Masterlist.

Enjoy my complete masterlist.

_____________________

The air is crisp but not too cool as you sit out in the backyard. Your cup of tea is still steaming. Calum’s mug of coffee is creating small tufts of clouds as its own warmth escapes it into the cooler air. The beanie on Calum’s head is low and covers his forehead and ears as he stands, green bag in hand and tying it close. Duke trots up to the door that leads back inside. The thud of the garbage bin top hardly disrupts the call of the birds flying over head.

“Halloween’s soon. Want to do something?” Calum asks after going inside to wash his hands and settling back down next to you. After the mugs are emptied, the two of you will take Duke for a walk and then the rest of the day will be all to yourself.

You shrug. “Like should we throw a party?”

“Believe me when I say there are plenty of others that have that covered. But possibly a pumpkin carving? Just us? I dunno. Or a group if you want.”

“The patch in town’s probably got slim pickings now.”

“I know about one a little further out that Luke told me about. He and Sierra went to the one close by and said there wasn’t much left to it either.”

“I’d be down for a road trip,” you agree before taking another sip from your mug. The tea’s still warm enough that the moment it touches your tongue you recoil slightly. “Gagh!” you exclaim.

Calum chuckles from next to you. “Patience, young grasshopper.” He digs in the tease by taking a pointed sip of coffee.

“Curse your burnt nerve endings.”

Your walk with Duke is nice. Most of the neighborhood hasn’t waken up yet. It’s early and the sun’s hardly turned the sky a hazy pink to signal the start of the day. As Duke pulls a little on the leash, his nose dug brushing the base of a bush as if something is wrong, Calum makes a quip about being a better pumpkin carver than you.

“That’s a lot of talk there,” you laugh, gazing up into the more normal sky. The sun’s climbed out more from the horizon, the sky it’s bright blue. “Put your money where your mouth is?” you asks.

“You the betting type?”

“Against you, Hood? Any day of the week. But we need to find out who’s judging?”

“Poll on IG. Let the public decide,” Calum returns.

“Fine by me.” The three of you soon start back up and then loop back around to the house. The scents are as new this time around as on the initial loop. Duke is content just to trot along. Back home, you shower and change. You find that it’s at least an hour and half drive so while Calum gets ready, you decide to put together a little basket with some snacks and something for lunch.

“Having a picnic too?” Calum asks as he slips into his leather jacket, noticing the basket in your head.

“Just some snacks. In case.”

He kisses the center of your forehead. “Snacks are always important.”

The two of you discuss what’s the best shape of pumpkin to get and what ideas you have. Though the conversation slowly fizzles out and the twinges of the guitars swell around you from the radio. Gazing out of the window you watch the buildings pass by you. It’s all stationary. All unmoving but somehow constantly moving forward too. And maybe that’s just you. Maybe that’s just you constantly moving forward and like from the window of the car it all seems to be moving with you.

A hand settles into your knee and without thinking you wrap your fingers around Calum’s hand. His thumb brushes along the skin of your hands and it’s just comfort--that’s all you can describe it as as the world stays and you move and Calum rubs and your hand.

Calum takes your hand as you walk into the patch itself. There are more pumpkins that you anticipated being left but you can still some haven’t weathered the test of time too well. Calum spies a pretty decent looking section and tugs on your hand before nodding in that direction. You follow behind him. Pausing him only once to show him the teeny tiny pumpkins. He laughs at the way you pout.

“Go on. Grab one,” he encourages and you zip off to grab the most robust looking one of the tiny ones. It fits all too well in the grip of your curled palm and you finally come to the section Calum noticed.

You turn over pumpkin, pressing inspecting them and trying to envision your design onto it. Calum goes off a little ways, not too far but he too is inspect his choices. You find one that’s tall enough to handle the idea you had for a little cartoon like ghost on the pumpkin and still have some width to it. Clutching your pumpkin close you set the tiny one on top and trot over to Calum, who’s crouched now, tracing over a pumpkin with his fingers. It looks like he’s spelling out something, but you can’t be sure.

“That’s a thinkin’ face if I ever seen one,” you tease.

He looks up, the sun casting the perfect glow around you and the fly aways of your hair. “Yeah thinking of all the ways I can kick your ass carving this pumpkin.”

You scoff. “You don’t have a tiny one. Clearly, two pumpkins are better than one.”

He laughs. “Clearly.”

“Can we stop by a craft store too? I don’t think we have paints at the house and I have an idea that involves painting the tiny one.”

“Yeah, we can make a stop.” Calum places the pumpkin back onto it’s bottom and searches around for another moment. He spies another one that he thinks might be wide enough for his plan. He stands with a small grunt and throws a pointed finger up at you. “Not a peep.”

You roll your lips together to keep the snicker at bay and trot behind him as he carries on and squats yet again at another potential canvas of the squash variety. He traces again with his finger and you watch out over the patch to take in the sounds of some children and possibly teens laughing. Their smiles are big as they survey their pumpkin pickings.

“Alright, you all set?”

“Been set,” you return still watching the young group pick up pumpkins to each the group.

After paying for your pumpkins you set them into the trunk and Calum pulls out the basket. There are some benches right on the edge of the makeshift public lot and Calum suggest a small reprieve to munch on the snacks you packed. Though the food break is short, you enjoy taking the moment just to sneak jelly onto the tip of Calum’s nose.

“Hey!” he calls out with a laugh. He scrunches his nose and face up when you stretch across and lick it off. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you taste like grape jelly.”

Back home, with pumpkin carving sets and paints spread out on the table in the backyard, and old newspapers from the local gas station covering the table, the two of you set out to cut open, deseed, and carve your pumpkins. You sit across from Calum and can only see the way his tongue peeks out from his lips as he takes the sharpie carefully over the ridges and bumps of the pumpkin.

You cut open and pulled out the seeds to the big one but switched to painting your tiny pumpkin first so it could try while you wrestled with your actual carving. The little witches hat is perfect on the tiny one and you set it off the side before exhaling and turning to you big on.

“Scared now? Got you shakin’ in your boots, I reckon. Going up against a professional.” Calum grins, driving the tiny saw into the rind. His sleeves that he previously rolled up are starting to slip.

“You wish. I’m exhaling because I know you want to, but you’re too scared to show that I’m getting into your head.”

Calum pauses, eyebrow raised but you’ve turned attention back to your carving. And it’s true. You are in his head. But not the way you think and the shakes come back. They first started in the pumpkin patch. He was going to stick with you until you picked yours but he needed a moment to breathe. His plan would work. It would all work out. You two had been dating for three years at this point. You had moved in with him. You two had worked out so that you’d spend Christmas one year with your family and the other with his--but you always made sure on the years that you spent Christmas with your family, that you spend News Years with Joy and David in Australia.

You coming home for the holidays, or Calum coming home with you weren’t even a point of discussion--in that it was a big deal. Everyone’s family just knew. Where one of you was, the other wouldn’t be far behind. And it all just fucking worked out. So this would too.

You giggle to yourself, setting the tiny pumpkin into the tiny whole you made so that the hat lines up perfectly onto of your cartoon ghost who’s smiling and there’s a tiny speech bubble with “Trick or treat.” It’s such a silly design but you’re so proud of it, even if your finger are covered in black paint and smell like pumpkin guts.

“Totally kicking your ass, Hood.”

He scoffs. “I doubt it.” He looks at his pumpkin. He couldn’t go with the full design--he needed two pumpkins he realized when he got the patch. He couldn’t get two big ones it would be too suspicious. But the tiny ring he might’ve butchered attempting to carve it with his lack of art skills but it’s not terrible. The question is still legible and that’s the most important.

You put in a tiny tea light and watch the ghost flicker and hand one over to Calum too. “Done?”

“Not quite.”

“Okay. I’m just going to start cleaning up a little bit.” The newspaper holding the pumpkin guts is thankfully layered a few times so it doesn’t make a huge mess as you walk over to the garbage can. You take the hose to try and get the paint off but you efforts will work best with soap and water.

As you settle back down at your side of the table you take a picture of it and watch the way Calum fidgets across from you. “You okay? What’s going on?”

Calum really is a do-or-die situation. He’s already got the pumpkin carved. He just needs to ask. “Not-nothing. It’s okay. I’m done now.” He looks up to you with a tiny smile. It wavers for a second but he continues on before you can ask again. “Reveal on the count of three.”

“Yeah. One.”

“Two.”

“Three,” you two say together and spin the pumpkins around. You hear Duke’s small bark and check for a second but he’s off in the corner tussling with one of his toys and your turn your attention back to the task at hand.

As you turn back around there’s tiny ring box sitting next to Calum’s pumpkin. Open to a gold band. It’s ornate but still simple without being overly decorated with gems. Marry me? is carved into the pumpkin. You gasps looking up to find Calum and he’s hand settles onto your knees, bringing your attention to your side. The tears blur his face for just a moment.

“I know you hate too much attention and even the thought of asking this in some stuffy overpriced restaurant wasn’t ideal for me either. But we’ve had a really great three years. And I love you. I don’t know how else to say it is. I want as many years with you as you’ll give me. So, will you marry me?”

You nod before your teeth, tongue and lips and push out the word, “Yes.” Once you can speak, you chant yes over and over even as Calum slips the ring onto your ring and you slip down out of your chair to burrow your face into his chest. “Oh my god, yes. I’d be so honored to marry you,” you exhale bringing your head up to gaze at him. “So, so honored.”

The kiss is soft and short and you both giggle into you. “My ghost pumpkin seems so stupid now.”

“Your witch ghost is so cute. And thank you. For allowing me into your life.”

#calum hood #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #calum hood x reader insert #calum hood blurb #5sos #5sos blurb #5sos fluff #5sos imagine #h writes #halloween blurb night 2020 #asks #answered #anon

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holder-of-stars · 4 years ago

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The Tricks to Fishing: Basics of Hooks, Lines and Bait

Fishing is a great hobby to have if you are looking for an outlet from work or school. It can also be a very relaxing way to spend time with friends and family, or even by yourself. However, fishing may seem like it's confusing at first glance because there are so many different pieces of equipment that you need in order to do it properly! That's why we're here today, giving you the tricks on hooks, lines, and bait so that your next trip out will be successful.

What is a hook and what does it do?

A hook is a piece of metal that has either one or two angles on it, which point backward away from the direction in which the fish will be pulled. The purpose of hooks are to give you something to attach your line and bait onto so that they can stay connected until after you catch your next big trophy!

There are multiple different types of fishing hooks out there, but they all serve pretty much the same purpose as their predecessor. There's J-shaped hooks (which look like an "J"), circle shaped ones (as if someone took half of a ring), O'Shaughnessy Hooks, offset worm hooks...the list goes on! That being said, what type should you use?

This depends largely on where you're fishing, the species you are trying to catch, and how big it is. For instance, if you are fishing in saltwater or freshwater for larger fish like tuna or salmon then circle shaped hooks would be your best bet because they have a higher chance of staying attached if their mouths get snagged on it! The basic rule of thumb is that bigger is better when it comes to hook size.

As we mentioned above there's also two different types of hooks: single angle ones and double angles ones. Double angles obviously give more strength than one angled ones do so they can hold up against even the biggest catches out there!

However, these only come into play after you've caught something with an angled hook. Why? Because they can get stuck in the fish's mouth and cause it to suffocate, which is why single angles are a better bet for beginners since their simpler design won't hurt or kill your catch! According to the fishingmet you can choose the right hooks or bait after following some tips and tricks.

There you have it: hooks explained from A-Z! Whether you're looking for J shaped ones or double angled ones we've got something that will work perfectly with what you need out on the water today. Now all that's left between catching big fish and coming home empty handed is choosing your line...and bait of course but we'll cover those too so don't worry!

How to choose the right bait?

There is no right or wrong bait to use, it all depends on what type of fish you're trying to catch! Some baits work better in saltwater and some are used exclusively for freshwater. The only way that you'll know which one will work best for your fishing trip is by doing research beforehand. Which we've done the legwork for so don't worry about a thing. If you live near water then typically worms (red wigglers), crabs, crickets, grasshoppers, minnows/crickets would be your bets since many species of fish love chowing down on these little guys including bluegill sunfish, largemouth bass and catfish just to name.

Conclusion

The type of bait you use can make a big difference in the success rate of your fishing. Using the wrong kind will either get snapped up by birds or eaten by fish before it gets to where the fish are waiting for their lunch! There is no reason not to give this little bit of knowledge, which has been passed down from generation to generation, a try. You never know what might happen when you start paying attention and discovering how much more there is out there than just sitting on dry land with nothing happening at all.

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thesims4bug · 4 years ago

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hi :)

im brand new to making sims 4 cc, but Im working on getting better. Any tips and tricks are highly appreciated!!

-grasshopper

#sims4 #thesims4 #sims4cc #maxismatch

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januarywren · 5 years ago

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I’m slowly getting back into writing Harry Potter fics, and I just finished a remix of my sevmione story, ‘Rose Dew’. It’s fairy tale inspired, with Fae!Hermione and a brooding, aged-down Severus. 🤍

Here’s a link to it on ao3, and I’ll post the remix chapter down below (it can be read as a standalone - while the original story is nsfw, the stand alone chapter is sfw!!). Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it! 🦕💙

Life was nothing like a fairytale.

If it were, his mother wouldn't have been marred by harsh bruises, and constantly weeping when she thought he wouldn't hear. He always did, his heart sinking beneath the worn floorboards.

If it were, his father wouldn't keep the world away so none would see him ranting and raving when he was deep in his cups, and how he was cruel to those closest to him, namely his wife and his son. There was no one that came to visit, there was no one that cared about any of them.

(Your father is sick," his mother whispered, as she slipped him bits of her biscuit. "He wasn't always like this –" and Severus couldn't help but think if his father were sick, when would they find a cure? Only his father wouldn't let them cast magic, and they never had enough galleons to ring the doctor.)

If it were, his nose wouldn't be long and hooked at the end, as if he were a troll.

Severus scowled at the thought and rested his temple against the cold windowpane. He heard the muffled sounds of his parents below as his father ranted and his mother begged for him to behave.

Nothing would ever change -

Until his eyes met gold.

There against the opposite side of the glass pane was a creature - no, a little girl, a sweet Fae who was hardly bigger than his hand.

Severus's breath hitched as she fluttered against the winter wind, her golden wings prettier than anything he had ever seen. They glowed in the dim light, translucent enough for him to see their tiny dips and folds.

She paused for a moment, her warm gaze meeting his. He pressed closer to the window, taking care for his feet not to touch the floorboard that creaked.

Words rose to the tip of his tongue, words that he kept still.

Are you here?

Are you real?

He held the words back as if they would send the Fae scattering away. For at that moment Severus knew that he didn't want her to leave, not as his parents' voices grew louder from down below.

Slowly Severus moved to open the window, mindful of the girl on the other side of it. She watched him intently, her dark curls framing her young face. She didn’t look much older than him, though Severus knew the Fae were never as they seemed.

‘Never tell them your name, or they can steal you away, my heart,' his mother often warned when he was younger and able to steal away into the gardens. He loved the sun and the gentle breeze and never felt as free as when he dallied in the gardens and crept to the edge of the forest.

There he would listen to the birds as they called to one another and watched as the squirrels leaped from branch to branch, and garter snakes slithered through the high grass. There were times when he dreamed that he was the same as any fox scampering through the forest or a salamander that made its home beneath fallen brush. There, he was free, more so than in the whole of his life.

He was happy.

His father had brought an end to his joy, barring the doors to the outer world.

"You may come in, if you'd like," Severus whispered, pulling the latch free. There was a gap between the pane and the glass then, one that the Fae slowly slipped through.

She was smaller than he'd first thought, Severus realized as she leaned against his hand. She was small enough for a squirrel to carry away or a bird to catch, and he felt his stomach roll at the thought of her vanishing with the harsh wind.

"Are you alright?" Severus whispered, not expecting an answer. It seemed that she understood him, though what creature wouldn't take shelter from the cold winter?

Snowflakes clung to the tip of her nose, and she sneezed making her blush. Severus started in surprise, his cheeks turning the same shade of pink as hers.

"Ah...you can use my sleeve," he suggested, and he found that he wanted to laugh when she shook her head.

(Did she think it was rude?)

She moved to climb on top of his hand, holding on to his thumb for support. It seemed she was weaker on her feet than when she flew, her wings fluttering far slower than before.

She covered her mouth as she yawned, before looking up at him with sleepy eyes. They were pools of warm, glittering honey; the kind that dripped from his spoon when he stirred it into his tea.

'Thank you,' he heard a tendril of warm magic curling around his own. 'I was caught in the storm and had nowhere to go...I was trying to find some silk string for my familiar to play with, you see, and wandered too far.'

"It's alright," Severus assured her, his magic far calmer than he had ever felt before. It was a ball of tightly wound chaos, one that often felt as if it wanted to press him into the ground. "I don't mind - at all."

At her knitted brow, Severus felt he wanted her to understand. "I'm alone here," he confessed, feeling all of his fifteen years, "Tobias - my father - he never allows anyone into the Manor. He doesn't trust any witch or wizard, or the hares in the garden. He doesn't trust anyone."

The Fae's expression turned solemn then, and Severus was still as she hugged the top of his thumb.

'I'm here.'

He felt his heart skip inside of his chest as if it were a light and silly thing.

"You are," Severus agreed, his tone far softer than it had ever been before. "Do you live in the forest?" he asked, inclining his head toward the window.

The forest had surrounded the manor for as long as the Prince family could remember. It was a mass of tangled brush and whispering leaves, and creatures that scattered throughout every acre.

'I can't tell you,' the words were tinged with regret as the Fae held on to his finger. Her words rang clear through his thoughts, carried there by their entwining magic. 'You would look for me then, Severus,' her look knowing then as she studied him. 'The court would never allow that.'

He knew that she could only mean the Fae court, one that was the subject of countless, fantastic legends. Every witch or wizard knew to fear the Fae, as the creatures delighted in wordplay and tricks, and were known to steal children away in the night, leaving a changeling in their stead.

Yet Severus found he wasn’t afraid of the Fae before him.

His magic sang with hers, a harmonious tune as they entwined together. No, Severus had little reason to fear the girl near him, as if he knew deep down, they were kindred spirits. It was a thought his father would have mocked him for, yet Severus found he cared not.

His father wouldn’t dare to laugh at them there, as afraid of magic as he was.

"You know my name," Severus murmured, his response a statement and not a question. "And my nature, it seems. Isn't it fair that I know yours?"

She seemed to agree as she flew up toward him. Hovering in front of his nose, she tapped the tip of it; the feeling the same as a feather brushing against his skin. 'My name is Hermione -'

Your truest friend.

For as Hermione confessed years later when she lay in his arms and had set aside her Fae nature for love, she had interfered as much as she could in his life. At the time, she hadn’t dared to reveal herself to him; knowing the court would never agree.

“I broke more than one law for you,” Hermione told him, her lips curving into a smile, and Severus found himself amused in turn.

She had watched from the forest as he suffered, and his mother cried and had wanted to do something for him while the others of her kind laughed. She had never quite found her place among the Fae, with their sharp tongues and narrow minds.

The boy in the window never looked foolish to her – he looked like a solemn boy, a sad boy, and Hermione found herself drawn to him. Severus (how the name danced on her tongue after she heard his mother's call!) was her most dear secret, one that she was careful not to share with the others. There was no telling what they might do, even dear Luna, who once cured her familiar's twisted ankle, and his singed whiskers.

Hermione had no family of her own, her parents a blurred memory. She was a child of the Fae court, a child with little place in the Fae world. She knew that she would never lure a child into a mushroom circle and make them dance to her will, nor could she face the idea of serving the court with blind loyalty. She knew how to be brave – oh yes, she faced toads and grasshoppers without flinching – but she faltered when it came to lost men and crying children and creatures that needed help.

Her help, no matter what others of her kind whispered, and assumed.

Closer and closer she drew to Severus, the call of his misery like nothing she had ever known before. She wanted to help him however she could, though she knew that she had little place in his world. He could easily squish her underfoot, the same as he could tear her wings from her back; an atrocity that more than one wizard had committed against the Fae.

Only Hermione thought that Severus was different, no, she knew that he was different, as she watched him tend to a bird with a broken wing, gently setting it with a spell. Severus was different from other humans that she saw, ones that had lashed out with their fists and their words, the memories of which she wanted to forget. It was the opposite with Severus, as she found she wanted to remember everything about him, from the way that he cradled his wand near, to the tune he sometimes hummed after his father was particularly cruel.

His father –

Her skin always crawled when the man came into sight (and the sheer memory of him still made it so). He was a twisted man, a cruel man, the kind that her kind would have tortured with their tricks. They wouldn’t see any value in him, as he seemed to revel in cruelty. It was beyond her comprehension, the same as when one of her peers had covered snails with buckets of salt and laughed himself sick as they twisted and burned.

(‘Sick,’ Hermione thought, ‘it was sick and wrong, the same as Tobias was.’)

The sickness repelled her the same as iron, and she wept for the poor creatures in its wake. There was more that she wanted to know, more of the world that she wanted to see, and she knew that she had chances that others never did.

Hermione knew that she could never change his father's nature nor make time reverse, but there were other things that she could do. Hermione had sent mice from the forest to scurry throughout the manor, carrying his father's galleons away to hide in places where his mother would find them, and save for their escape. Nor did she allow the meager food in their cupboards to rot, or for their milk to spoil as she cast charms that kept the flies away, and decay.

She was more than a kitchen witch too, as she whispered charms into the soil, and flowers bloomed outside the manor’s locked doors. When the breeze was gentle and the sun was bright, Hermione would sway in the wind; her wings fluttering as she waltzed outside his window, oftentimes with a hummingbird or cooing dove. It was a sight that Severus adored far more than he would ever admit to as he found himself wishing that he would be the one to ‘dance’ with her.

And as Severus began to brew potions with his mother’s old cauldron, Hermione often zipped through the forest, collecting ingredients for his potions. She knew the forests the same as she knew her name, and often returned with a bag stuffed full of ingredients. (The bag was miniature in size until she unlocked it, and it would expand to human size, with ingredients spilling from it.)

She drove herself to exhaustion and Severus found her asleep on his pillow more than once, with drool running down her chin. He would always wipe it away, before settling next to her; his hand curled near her small frame.

"I wept the first time I saw your father hurt you," Hermione whispered, when he held her against him, never wanting to let go, "I wanted to help you in any way that I could, even though it wasn't -"

She hesitated, the words faltering on her tongue. The language of man was one that she had carefully learned, and Severus helped her practice throughout the years as if she were a child.

And at the beginning, she was, as she struggled with the strange vowels and curved words.

"It was enough," Severus interrupted, trailing kisses down her jaw. She shivered at the feeling, pink emerging on her cheeks. She was a girl no longer, the same as Severus wasn’t an abused, and sorrowful little boy. "It was more than enough, Hermione."

She had done more than anyone ever had for him.

More than his mother, certainly more than his father, and the ghosts that haunted the halls of the manor. She was there, and she was his light, the only one that had never been snuffed out. For she had never left his side the night they met, always appearing when he needed her the most.

And when she needed him, his arms, and his heart opening to her in turn.

“There will never be anyone like you,” Severus whispered, nipping at her pulse. He would leave a bruise that she would cherish, a mark that made her his own. “I love you – “

I always will.

#sevmione #harry potter #snamione #hp fanfic #snape #hp #hermione granger #severus snape #hermione x snape #harry potter fanfiction #hurt/comfort #fluff #sfw #archive of our own #ao3

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miled72 · 2 years ago

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youtube

In this new Grasshopper tutorial, we will learn how to create a Faceted loft. And at the end, we will see how to can subdivide each polygon into 2 triangles using the LunchBox plugin: https://www.food4rhino.com/en/app/lunchbox.

#rhino3d #rhino grasshopper #grasshopper loft #grasshopper tutorial #rhino tutorials #mcneel rhino #mcneel grasshopper #learn grasshopper #grasshopper tips and tricks #Youtube

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styomi · 6 years ago

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Friday Girl: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Huangshan Maofeng Tea - Yellow Mountain Fur Peak

Prompt: Sees the others' living space

Quote: "It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line."

Kuga Terunori was in high spirits. Though, it wasn't his usual cheery self. No, this was different. He was in extremely high spirits. Genuine ones. There was some kind of a different spark to the way he moved that wok around, and there was a spring in his step as he served the food he'd made with absolute pride. Heck, he even bothered to thank the men at the Chinese Cuisine RS for taste-testing. Altogether, this odd occurrence made the second seat of the Elite Ten quite interested.

"You got some new spices that will burn my tongue off, Kuga?" Rindō asked, sitting on the chair at the Chinese Cuisine RS, her legs pulled up on it in a very unladylike manner. Nene would definitely scold her if she saw that.

"Maybe," Terunori blew her a raspberry, but still served her food. He knew by then exactly how to avoid questions from the persistent and quite nosy second seat - feed her. Rindō was easily distracted, like a small child or a curious animal. Terunori planned to use every single one of the tricks and tips on how to avoid the Elite Ten in order to hide Mayumi from them.

It wasn't that he was ashamed. No, far from that. Mayumi was nothing to be ashamed about. She was, in fact, everything to be proud of. However, Terunori was all too familiar with the nature of Tōtsuki students and staff. After all, he was one of them. Arrogant, snobby, determined, childish and borderline insane was how he would describe anyone at the school, in just a few adjectives. And, he knew how Rindō was. If she found out about Mayumi, Terunori could kill his peace at The Emerald Dragon goodbye. Rindō would definitely bring the whole council there.

"Eat up, eat up," and so Terunori opted for the safest path out of that minefield. "Eat up and get out. You know, leave, hurry, go, bye-bye sempai!" He shamelessly urged her, waving his hands for her to get out.

"But I'm bored, Kuga!" Rindō bored was always trouble. He knew that he needed to redirect her attention as quickly as possible to something other than his private Friday afternoons. "Entertain me! Kuga!"

"I heard they needed some help with identifying grasshoppers at the Insect RS," actually, he'd been asked to help. After all, they had wanted to spice the grasshoppers up and make them the traditional Chinese way. However, due to the bags being unlabeled, the two types of grasshoppers, differently preserved, had gotten all mixed up. Terunori had never quite fancied eating them, so he'd been avoiding going down to Insect RS and try grasshopper after grasshopper from three shipments of mixed bags.

"Grasshoppers?!" His tactic had worked brilliantly, as Rindō polished off her plate, placing it into the sink and bounding off with glee. "Thanks for the food, Kuga!"

But, Terunori 's hard day was just starting. He hadn't slept that night. In fact, he'd been having trouble sleeping for a while. He knew what he had to do. He just had to do it. But, the task was beyond daunting. It was more daunting than facing Tsukasa in a Shokukegi. Alright, perhaps he was exaggerating. Perhaps it wasn't that bad. But, it still got his hands to falter in their movements through the recipe whenever he thought to what he had to do. The stopwatch dinged, telling Terunori that he had to go if he planned to be on time. And, he had to be on time, because everything had to be perfect. He would make certain that it was perfect.

The Emerald Dragon was busy, as always, when he got there. He was just on time, right past noon. The girl who greeted him at the door wasn't Mayumi. It was the Chinese server who always gave him sly looks, as if she knew a secret even he didn't.

"Welcome back, Terunori-bocchama," she greeted him, giving that coy look once more. Terunori didn't rise to the challenge, though.

"My usual table, Chunhua-chan," he grinned cutely at her, enjoying the slight jump of her eyebrow when he didn't take the bait. "I'll have Huangshan Maofeng, with the pot."

"Understood, young master," Chunhua bowed to him politely, then vanished from the traditional table which he sat at comfortably. It had been at least a month since he'd gone stargazing with Mayumi. And, their Fridays at the Emerald Dragon had changed. She stopped by his table often, just for a chat, and spent her breaks in pleasant conversation with him, rather than alone in the back. On the other hand, that had made it incredibly hard for Terunori to actually get some work done. He would always have different mixes of spices that he would try upon leaving the Emerald Dragon. But, those times were gone now. Now, he left the tea shop with only millions of questions in his brain, scurrying around like his workers when the recipe was new. And, he didn't mind it one bit.

"Hello, Terunori-kun," Mayumi offered him a small bow as she passed and Terunori felt the feeling from before in his limbs again. His hands were trembling, and he ended up squeezing the life out of the small recipe notebook.

"How hey are you?" How did he manage to botch that up?! Hey, how are you? How hard was that? How?! Terunori felt his face flush, hoping for the earth to simply open up and swallow him. But, instead, all that happened was Mayumi giggling, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"I'm doing good, what about you?" Terunori wanted to slap himself and try and get past these yips that he was having. It was beyond embarrassing.

"Good," he chose to stick to one-word answers. After all, how hard would it be to mess those up? "If I were to ask you out on a date, would your answer be the same as the answer to this question?" However, his brain had decided to stop cooperating with his mouth at the most unfortunate of times. And, apparently, it had decided to spill out all the silly pick up lines he'd looked up in the past week. Mayumi's head tilted to the side, in absolute confusion.

"E-eh? What?" Terunori was only aware of his mouth opening again and the blush on his face intensifying to almost impossible proportions.

"Cupid called. He wants to tell you that he needs my heart back." Curse his brain. Work, dammit, not the mouth, but the brain! However, there was no cooperation. Judging by Mayumi's growing smile, she found it beyond amusing. "I'd say God bless you, but it looks like He already did."

"Oh my God!" She finally broke at the last one, bursting into laughter and successfully gaining them the attention of the whole tea shop. Terunori spotted Chunhua practically dying in a corner behind the counter, wheezing. However, his brain wasn't done placing him into yet another degree of mortification.

"Do I know you?" Mayumi's head shot up, the girl trying to hold in her laughter. "Because you look a lot like my next girlfriend." And she lost it again, putting her hands up to physically try to stop him from going for more backup lines.

"Stop, stop, oh God, Terunori, please stop," she wheezed through laughter, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes as she tried to stay standing. "I'll go out with you, just please, no more lines!"

"Today?" He really wished his brain would connect to his mouth and put some kind of impulse control filter on it.

"Sure, today," Mayumi agreed, nodding. Maybe, though, his mouth was doing a fine job of it.

"After work then?" Terunori finally gained some semblance of control over himself, looking at the girl brightly.

"Sur-oh, I can't," Mayumi frowned. "I need to go home to change, because I dirtied my clothes today. I've only got the uniform here." Terunori couldn't help but look down at the qipao which suited her more than he could ever word. It was alright with him, going on a date in that silk dress. Though, he probably wouldn't be able to hold himself back from taking his hands off of her form if she did wear it.

"I can drive you?" he suggested with a shrug. "Then we can decide where to go, Mayuchin?" Terunori could tell that the tension that had been present like a fever in his body was draining, leaving him feeling slightly boneless. Though, he still managed to grin brightly at the girl, slipping into his comfortable persona that he'd developed after entering Tōtsuki.

"Oh, alright then," Mayumi smiled at him, then bowed and walked away to return to her duties. Chunhua passed moments later, tapping him on the shoulder in a rather patronizing manner.

"Nice going, bocchan," she coyly remarked. "Top comedy marks." And she was gone, leaving a horribly blushing Terunori in her wake.

Mayumi didn't live in a 'good' neighborhood. Then again, she didn't live in a 'bad' neighborhood either, if he dared to be a little more objective. Her building was one of the many, almost indistinguishable ones, that lay on the peaceful street. When Mayumi directed his driver, telling him where to park, Terunori couldn't help but stare. The two exited the town car as he asked, unable to stop himself.

"How do you know which one's yours?" With a tilt of his head, arms crossed, the boy glanced between the buildings. Mayumi didn't get offended. Instead, the girl giggled.

"Well, I used to have that issue," she admitted, fishing out her keys and waving him over to follow her into one of the numerous similar buildings. "I used to remember that mine was the fourth after the willowy tree, but they cut it down some time ago. Now, I just kinda know?"

"Ah, instincts," Terunori laughed to himself, and she joined in. The girl led them into the building, the lights turning on automatically. They entered the elevator and she pressed the fifth floor. Her door was on the left, number twenty-three.

"Here we are," Mayumi said shyly, unlocking the door and turning on the lights. Terunori stood still for a second, not really sure how to proceed. The girl took off her coat and hung it beside a tall mirror, toeing off her boots and entering. "Coming?" Terunori nodded, mimicking her actions and following her inside.

It wasn't a big place, he could see that immediately. In fact, compared to his own apartment, it was tiny. To the left, there was a small bathroom, and to the right, a closed room which he deduced had to be her bedroom. The hallway led them straight into the living room, with a small couch, low coffee table, and sitting pillows. There was a soft carpet under their feet, as well. The apartment didn't have a TV, but Terunori spotted a laptop on the couch. The living room connected to an open kitchen, separated only by a small counter, behind which he found a surface designed to making food. Cupboards lined the wall inside the kitchen, and he eyed a tall fridge, as well as a sink and a dishwasher. There was also a microwave and a coffee maker in the corner, which didn't look much used.

"Cozy," Terunori commented, swinging back and forth on the balls of his feet. Mayumi placed her bag next to the coffee table and turned with a nervous smile.

"It's not much, but it's mine," she told him.

"No, no, it's great," Terunori smoothly lied. He felt like it needed more space. He needed more space. Perhaps she could move into his own apartment? Yes, that would be quite nice. He wouldn't mind sharing the space, especially as Mayumi seemed rather tidy.

"It's really not," the girl frowned, letting him know that she'd seen through his lie. "It's smaller than I would've liked it to be. But, this is what I could rent from my salary at the Emerald Dragon. So, nobody can interfere with the space."

"Ah, overbearing family?" Terunori suddenly understood. She didn't want to use her family money to get her own space. She wanted it to be hers. Only hers. Even though he'd never faced that kind of an issue, he could understand it.

"You could say so," Mayumi grinned. "I'm just going to take a quick shower and change, make yourself at home." The girl took out some things from her bag and went into the room near the entrance. Terunori was left awkwardly standing in the small living room. When she exited her bedroom again, he stopped her, despite the change of clothes and the towel in her hands.

"Say, Mayucchi, wanna have our date here?" He smoothly asked. When she looked at him with an inquisitive glance, Terunori quickly elaborated. "I could cook us something and we could watch a movie? I bet you're tired from all the work you did today." With a smile from him, he knew that she was sold.

"Um, alright," the girl agreed. "Then, if you don't mind, let's do that." Terunori eagerly nodded, pushing her towards the bathroom.

"Go, go, shower," he paused in his movements for a second. "Do you like spicy cuisine?"

"As long as it's not too spicy, I'm alright," she told him before he finally pushed her into the small bathroom, catching a glimpse of the insides of the room. A toilet, a low shower, a big mirror and multiple shelves stacked with products.

"Okay, have a good time in the shower," Terunori grinned, closing the door on the girl's amused face. He went back to the living room with a determined face. Terunori wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge and the cupboards, inspecting her supplies. "Not too bad," he grinned to himself. "I can work with this."

And, Terunori started working his magic. He'd decided on making the usual, traditional Chinese food from the available ingredients. The dishes would be sweet-sour chicken with rice and dumplings, and the nian gao as dessert. He knew that he would have to get a bit creative with the dessert, but the rest could be made with ease from the contents of Mayumi's kitchen.

Terunori found an apron next to the fridge and tied it behind his back, washing his hands at the sink, before he got started. He resisted placing a little more than necessary spices from his back pocket into the chicken while preparing it. He kept holding himself back, as Mayumi wasn't a big fan of spicy things. He got so absorbed in his work, that he didn't even notice when the girl herself joined him, opting to sit on the counter from the living room side.

"Woah, you scared me!" Terunori balked, placing his hand over his quickly beating heart when he turned from the stove, only to see the girl curiously watching him. She giggled, her hand going up to cover her mouth.

"I'm sorry," Mayumi apologized. "You seemed like you were in your element, so I felt bad interrupting," she watched as his hands moved with practiced precision, quickly over the numerous ingredients, getting the dough for the dessert ready. "You seem to be an expert in the kitchen." She mused, making Terunori falter in his movements. He hadn't meant to show her. Heck, he needed to slow down. Terunori purposefully started slowing down gradually in his usual routine.

"Ah, I suppose I'm not that bad," he laughed.

"Where did you learn how to cook so well?" That question made him stop short. Then, his hands continued working as he heard that the chicken was ready for the next stage by the sizzling of the oil.

"Nobody's ever asked me that," he chuckled, thrown off. "I had a caretaker growing up, since my parents were always busy with work," Terunori divulged a secret he rarely brought into the open with anyone. "She had this way of making the house smell really homely, with her cooking. She was Chinese and she always made the spiciest things. I suppose I learned a lot from her." He concluded with a shrug. True enough, he had learned a lot from the woman. But, those had merely been the seeds to the tree he'd grown on his own. His skills weren't those which one would use to cook every day in a kitchen for the family. He was a chef. He was a chef worthy of his 8th Seat, regardless of the spiciness on the menu.

"That's really cute," Mayumi giggled again, making the boy turn around, red-faced, and pout at her.

"Don't make fun of me," he whined.

"Oh, I'm not," Mayumi slid from her spot on the counter, walking over to him while he was finishing up the chicken. "I just find you really cute, Terunori-kun." That got his face to become even redder. And, then she completely destroyed him by snaking her hands around his middle, head resting at his back for a brief moment. Terunori felt his body go into overdrive, suddenly more aware of every place which Mayumi touched, rather than the food in front of him. A gentle kiss pressed right under his ear, before the girl pulled away. "Honestly, I'm surprised that you're this cute. I always thought that you were kind of creepy, always watching me silently." Terunori managed to collect himself enough to retaliate.

"Well, it's kinda hard to gather the courage to talk to a girl for us guys, alright?" He shot back with another pout on his face as he continued checking on the food and adding things here and there.

"True, it must be hard with your sense of direction," Mayumi mused with a smile on her face. "Never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line." Terunori balked, turning to her.

"They were all decent, I'll have you know!" That made her laugh, and honestly, he didn't even mind that she was laughing at him. The way she looked at that moment, in her oversized sweater and tights, with that long hair still damp from the shower, laughing merrily in the kitchen, it was more mesmerizing than her working at the Emerald Dragon. She was exquisite, and Terunori knew that he would never let her go.

"Decently hilarious, sure enough!" Mayumi laughed and he couldn't help joining in. Yes, she was truly exquisite, like the rarest of spices or the most delicious of teas. He was certain that he wouldn't be letting her slip through his fingers anytime soon.

That's all for now folks! I hope you enjoyed :D

Next chapter prompt preview:

Prompt: Takes a photo together Quote: "I was going to go for a suave pickup line, but I got all flustered when I saw you."

Looking forward to your feedback on this :D

#kuga terunori #kuga terunori oc #kuga terunori x oc #friday girl #Shokugeki no Soma #fanfiction #styomi #bansheehime #shokugeki no soma oc #shokugeki no soma fanfiction #drabbles #styomi oc

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zendozebra · 7 years ago

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All the Time in the World Chapter 13

Midoriya was nervous. Sure, he wasn’t as nervous as he had been on his first date with Mina, but he was still a nervous creature. It runs in the family, if his mother was any indication. Every family has some sort of shared trait, like Asui’s bluntness and Kacchan’s temper. Even Kokiri-san told him that he gets his bad memory from his mother. But, he has to “tough it out”, as Kokiri-san would tell him. They leave for the training camp in just a few days, and he wouldn’t get much time to spend with Mina once they left. That meant this would be their last date before camp started, and they wouldn’t get to spend much time together between all of the training they’ll be doing.

Plus, Aizawa-sensei told the class that Kokiri-san won’t be joining the class during their time at the camp, so Izuku won’t have to worry about any tricks during his training. He’ll be able to focus and take his training seriously, instead of keeping an eye out for a flying fish that ends up smacking him in the face. While Kokiri-san laughs at him. Really hard, for like an hour. That day was really weird.

“Alright, I’m back! Hope you like strawberry!” Izuku smiled when Mina put down their milkshakes. This is a shake shop she’d been going to since she was younger, and probably knew the menu better than she knew her school schedule. She knew that he got anxious when he went to new places, so she’d offered to order for them while he found them a place to sit. She herself had gotten something called a grasshopper shake, which she seemed to like. He was happy with strawberry, but he was relieved that she hadn’t order something new and ended up not liking it.

“Oh no, we forgot to make a toast, dangit!” Mina yelled out, starting to frantically look around for something, anything to dedicate their meal to. That was one of her weird little habits, every meal needs to celebrate something. Their first dinner was dedicated to, obviously, their first dinner. Their second date, when they went out to lunch at a small cafe, was dedicated to that cute cat they passed on their way to the cafe. Izuku thought it was adorable, and he always played along because it was something small that made her happy, and he loved seeing that goofy smile on her face and her bright eyes whenever they clinked their glasses together.

“Oh, I got it! Cheers to Iida not-killing Majima-sensei!” That had been a hot topic at school after the exams were over. A few of the students from both classes had been watching the recordings of each exam, and that moment had been pretty popular amongst both 1-A and 1-B. Well, that, and Izuku and Kacchan’s defeat of All Might at the end of the exams. He remembered Iida feeling absolutely terrible after the exam, even though he’d passed with almost flying colors. His essentially lethal attack on their teacher docked them a few points. Iida thought it was a punishment given by Nezu, but Izuku thought it was probably Kokiri-san being bitter.

“Oh, hey, what do you think Majima-sensei is up to now? He couldn’t supervise our study session today because he said he was busy, but did he tell you what he was up to?”

“Oh, he said he wanted to meet up with an old friend of his, so they could gather some information for Nezu-sensei.”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

This ought to be easy. Just knock on the door and tell them you want to talk to the boss. He’s done it a thousand times, even a few with this boss in particular. True, that was back when Time Enough was one of the most wanted support villains. Man, the shit he helped to pull off were fuckin legendary. Maybe that was why Nezu set him up to this. He knew all about Majima’s past and all of the connections he used to have, so that’s what was probably going on. Plus, it’s a good thing he managed to find his old costume in his storage locker over in Osaka. It looked almost exactly the same as his hero costume, but with an oni mask instead of a bear, and he wore a red outfit underneath instead of black. It’s weird, he remembered this outfit looking much cooler when he was younger, but now it just looks kinda dumb. Oh god, he really is getting old, isn’t he?

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, watching a slot open up at he saw a pair of red eyes. “What do you want?” Well that was rude, he’d have to get used to that again.

“I’m here to talk to Iwasaki. Tell ‘im Majima is here to see him.” That oughta work, not a whole lot of people forget him and his dumb bullshit. The guy closed the slot and didn’t come back for a few minutes.

“Boss doesn’t know anyone named Majima, get lost.” Excuse me, what? That’s not good.

“Son of a bitch. Tell him it's Time Enough, and he’ll let me in if he knows what’s good for him.” The man raised an eyebrow and closed the slot again. Seriously, it’s like his entire reputation just evaporated over the last 20 years. Sure, he was out of the game for a while, but all of the shit he’s done should be able to get him further than the front fucking door.

Said door was thrown open when Iwasaki himself appeared like a crazed madman, standing there with wide eyes. His breath was ragged, and he looked far older than when they’d last seen each other. He’d gained quite a bit of weight too, and he didn’t carry it well. Eugh. “Ma-Majima-sama. What are- You’re here?” There we go, that’s more like it. Seems like Iwasaki thinks he’s pissed him off, let’s roll with that.

“Well, I’m just going around, you know, visiting some old… Friends. I just came back from visiting Murata. It was a fun visit, very nice, he even had one of his guys waiting for me at the door, just to make sure I felt welcome.” There we go, the fat bastard took the hint and let him into the office, where his grunts were sitting around watching tv or playing cards. They weren’t villains, just your average small-time criminals, so he can imagine their confusion when their boss, blubbering like a fool, led a tall man into their base, dressed very obviously like a villain.

“If you’ll follow me, Time-sama, I can lead you to my office. We can discuss business as much as we want once we’re there. I have the whole room sound-proofed for our privacy.”

Instead of doing that, Majima grabbed a chair at one of the card tables, this one being used for blackjack. That’s good, he hadn’t played a set in years, let’s see if that old Majima luck could still come into play. “Nah, I’m not really concerned about privacy, we can talk here. I want to play.” He through some coins into the small pot at the center of the table, throwing a nod to the dealer, who took the hint and dealt him a hand. A glance from the corner of his eye showed him that Iwasaki grew even more nervous, but didn’t argue with him.

“What is it I can do for you, sir?”

“I’m looking for a broker, one who’s better than you or any of your guys, and you’re gonna point me in his direction. Once you do, I’ll put your lack of hospitality to the side, pretend like it never happened, and I’ll be on my merry way. Easy as that, I’m not asking for much.”

“Of course, sir, we can work out payment as soon as we find who you’r-”

“Hey, oh, woah, woah, hey, hold it right there. Payment? What exactly would I be paying you for?”

“Well, the standard fees for information collection, plus a price adjustment depending on who ex-”

“You seem to have forgotten just who exactly is in charge here, Iwasaki. Remind me, who gave you your first set of recruits? I had even given you some of my best men. I treated you very fairly, I thought, and when I stop by to check in on one of my favorite pet projects, you’re gonna tell me that I have to pay?”

“Sir, you told me that I have to charge everyone, no matter how high profile they are.” There was a beat of silence, about thirty seconds, where Majima just stared at Iwasaki from behind his demonic mask, before he slapped the man hard enough to knock his glasses to the ground. He cleared his throat, glancing around the room while Iwasaki picked up his glasses.

“I’m looking for a guy, goes by Giran, and you’re going to tell me where he is or I will rain hell on you for all of time. And no one you run to, be they heroes or villains, will be able to save you from me, not even that Watcher guy those UA chuckle-fucks have been trying to threaten me with.” Iwasaki gave him an odd look, one of confusion. Good, that’s what we’re going for. “The fuck is that face for, boy? You got a problem with me, you fuckin’ say it. We’re men here, now act like it.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I was under the impression that you were the Watcher.” Perfect, time to fix that shit mistake that Nezu made by posting his alias and quirk up on the official UA website.

“Excuse me?” Majima stood up, turning to Iwasaki and grabbing the man’s hair, slamming his head onto the blackjack table. The money pot tipped over, spilling coins and bills onto the table. Everyone in the room All of the goons watched this man brutalize their boss while he begged for forgiveness. “You really have forgotten who the fuck I am, boy. Time Enough is immortal, a fucking GOD, and there is no one who can ever be what I am, no matter what quirk they have, or how much they fucking try! You think you’re funny, a fucking comedian? Then get some better shit, boy, cause I’m not laughing buddy. Am I? AM I?!”

There we go, Iwasaki was now crying like a newborn, snot and tears were flowing from his face and onto the table, all of his men standing around him and freaking out. They watched their boss cry out as Majima ground his face into the table, but one of them seemed to have a bit more courage than the rest. He grabbed Majima from behind, going to throw this stranger off of his boss, but the time stopper did what he does before he got the chance. Majima walked around the room, checking everyone’s pockets until he found a switchblade, using it to cut the fool’s fingertips, keeping them small but deep. Then, he used the blade to carve ‘FOOL’ into the man’s forehead, snapping his fingers and watching the man double over from the sudden burst of pain.

Majima looked at the knife in his hand, wiping it off on his cloak and tossing it back to its owner, who was surprised when they realized it was theirs. He grabbed the back of Iwasaki’s jacket, dragging him out of the room and towards where he assumed his office was. He dropped him and moved behind the desk, sitting in the chair and folding his arms as he watched the disgusting excuse for a man pick himself up, staring cowardly up at the time stopper in front of him.

“Now, I believe that you were going to tell me where I can find Giran, ain’t that right?”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Next chapter is going to have a ton of action, as well as reveal a lot of secrets and offer a ton of answers. I’ve been taking extra time to make sure that it is detailed, as well as easy to understand. As an aside, I have plans for future plots, but I wanted to ask a question- Would you like to see Majima take on an apprentice, and if so, who would you like him to train?

Also, an apology to Entomoid, because I completely forgot that Koda Koji was supposed to be a rock monster or something. His design tends to blend in with the six-armed Shoji and the pink-skinned Ashido. So, as an apology, a quick omake-

Majima’s neck was still stiff from Iida’s kick earlier, so he was trying to ignore the pain as he walked into his office. Seriously, why’d he have to go sober again? He’d kill for some vodka right about now. Maybe he could cheat, he might still have some smirnoff in his des-

“Oh, shit, what are you doing here? School’s over, kid, what’s keeping ya?” He didn’t mean to scare Koda, but the kid jumped almost 5 feet in the air, spinning around and flailing his arms around wildly. Wait, no, that was sign language, wasn’t it? The fuck was he saying, forgot bag? Oh, yeah, that reminds him.

“Your bag is under my desk, kid, I noticed that you left it here when the academic portions of your exams were over.” Koda gave him an odd look, before signing something to him.

‘You know sign?’

“Yeah, just a bit though. Ueno, the gun runner I talk about from time to time? He had a quirk that enhanced his hearing, which didn’t really mesh too well with all those guns he spent his time around. He went deaf about two years after I met him, and I worked with him long enough after that I picked up some bits here and there. The only sentence I know by heart is, ‘They got the money, go get the product.’ Saw that one almost every day, got used to it real quick.”

‘Is Ueno-san still a gunrunner, sensei?’

“Nah, he died about… I wanna say, 30 years ago? I visit his sons now and again, they keep his business running. Now here,” He threw Koda his bag, “Get out of my office, and congrats on passing the practicals. Yamada’s voice isn’t easily overcome. Oh, and good work on getting over that fear of bugs, those things aren’t too easy on the eyes.” Majima looked at his desk, waited a second, then stopped time. Now that he wouldn’t embarrass the kid, he looked over at Koda, seeing a small, proud smile on his face. That’s good, kid deserves the praise for this one. He snapped again, watching the kid leave before opening his wallet. He’s got a few bills, he’ll just settle for a soda from the vending machine down the hall.

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octaviainthewasteland · 7 years ago

Text

Haribo Hearts

AO3

Summary: "Once we are born, we begin to forget The very reason we came But you I’m sure I’ve met Long before the night the stars went out We’re meeting up again"

Rating: Teen and Up

Artist’s work: by amazing @zoemaru boop

Beta: BIG THANKS TO @sondeneige for being patient with my sorry ass and making this work much easier to read.

Thanks to @pidgebigbang for organizing the event!!!

“But you can love other people, right?”

Mum falters, and together over her and the dough, which she has stopped kneading, settles an odd silence. Like when someone asks for a question to be repeated, as if they have not heard it, but they definitely have, they are just trying to buy time to put the social puzzle together, to understand if it is a trick or a genuine question, because, really, who asks that kind of question anyway?

“Of course,” she says eventually, pinching Katie’s cheek and leaving sticky fingerprints, “I love you, for one. And Matt.”

Katie frowns and wipes her cheek with sudden ferocity.

“You know what I mean. Of course…”

Of course you love us. We are your children.

Of course you love dad. He is your soulmate.

The pie ends up mediocre, but after all, mum has never claimed to be a perfect housewife. Katie’s parents met in the office. Two kids, a dog, guests sometimes on Fridays and a few journalists here and there. They are a normal middle-class family, a specimen of the intellectual elite. They have never been stopped in the middle of a street for an autograph, but the wall of the staircase is covered in photos from school science fairs. In these photos, Sam Holt is always surrounded by excited kids with their volcanoes and planes and other projects.

Katie glares at these photos, munching on a piece of the pie, which has been highly praised by dad and has always been completely tasteless. There is no point in lowering her eyes to her shoulder, the lines are not visible. Not yet, only under the bright light and only if she squints, she can make out some general figures – but she can feel a little swelling under the tips of her fingers. First there was just an itchy patch of skin, and now this. Her mark is beginning to appear, right when dad and Matt have begun to get ready for their Kerberos expedition, and they are going without her, and it means that she would have to apply to the Garrison in their absence. Her application is going to be successful, no doubt, how can they reject one of the Holts?

Before, she used to love the idea of being accepted to the Garrison, but when all the action happens somewhere else, and she will be stuck in the dusty classrooms, behind a tiny desk.While dad and Matt will be exploring the universe and will be the first people to go so deep in space?

And now, of all times, she is reminded about all that soulmate crap. Someone’s writing, someone’s name on her, like a stamp, an official sign that now she belongs to someone else. No funny story at the table in fifty years: “Oh, I met your grandpa by accident…” Because everything is set. She knows. They know. Everybody knows.

To be fair, it is not like she has her doubts about her parents loving each other. Nonetheless, isn’t it so cruelly ironic? So many movies and books, plots and stories about a person, who is about to get married but meets their soulmate and it changes their whole life? They’re unable to resist, and is it realistically possible to resist, and if it is, why doesn’t anybody resist?

It may be another way for Mother Nature to ensure the procreation of humanity. But what about people who cannot biologically or psychologically or plainly do not wish to procreate? To begin with, there would not be any same-sex soulmates, then. They have been taught in history about the LGBT movement, and one of their mottos has been: “The Universe is never wrong”.

The Universe is never wrong.

Katie shakes off the crumbs and leans on the banister, listening to soft voices of her parents in the living room. So what would Descartes think about all this? Did he have a soulmate?

Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am. Without doubting there is no existing. Then how can they study the theory of knowledge and that blind faith in the authority is dangerous, and then just accept something so unexplainable? Some time ago people believed the Earth was flat, and they imprisoned Galileo because he doubted that. If now they know that they can be wrong about something as big as the Earth, how can they not doubt ‘the universe’s choice’?

Katie does not believe in God, and refuses to abide by a random choice.

The invisible mark on her skin is itching.

“We’re so sorry.”

“My condolences.”

“Katie, tears are normal. It’s okay to be sad.”

But the thing is, she is not sad. She is angry. She swallows hot tears, peeved by her own powerlessness, with mum’s apathy, with Iverson’s annoyed expression that morphs into pity, with the guard’s indifference, when they drag her out. Let them not even hope she would comply. That she would surrender, she twists and turns like a crazy cat. She scratches and bites them, tries to kick or head butt anyone at arm’s length, and she screams, screams, screams – cadets, who pass by, look at her, immediately recognizing the Holts’ girl.

“Poor thing.”

“What a nightmare.”

Sympathetic faces are fusing into a whirlpool, and it makes her sick, and she throws up in the ‘ladies room’, her whole body shuddering. Sobs become coughs, then slowly turn into frantic hiccups, and it is all lies that it gets better. It doesn’t. Not a bit. Just worse. Because the Kerberos accident has already become yesterday’s news, and they “have to move forward”. Because they never told them the truth, thinking that some quick excuses would ever be enough to bury two empty coffins, so they would stop asking and simply give up. The flowers at the little memorial have not withered yet, and already everyone seems to have forgotten about Sam and Matt Holt. And Shiro. He hasn’t even got a coffin, as he had wanted to be cremated, for his ashes to be scattered from as high as a bird flies. He has even chosen a pilot to perform that. Yet there is nothing to scatter.

She grits her teeth. Not yet. No coffins and no ashes yet. Even if everyone gives up, even if nobody else in the whole world gives a shit about them – she will not forget, she will find them and bring them back. Everyone knows the Holts’ girl, but no one knows a Gunderson’s boy.

It gives her its own twisted glee. She has never been considered pretty, not that it ever bothered her. Her palms are too big, her knees knobby, frog-like eyes and of course her bushy eyebrows, wide and expressive. Everyone has agreed, though, that her hair was nice. Long and wavy, only if difficult to tame into a plait. Gnawing her lip, she butchers her long hair, she relished the thought that this ‘Lance’ would never meet Katie Holt, and Pidge Gunderson is nobody’s soulmate.

She should have known better.

The boy is all legs and arms, all jumpy and jerky, like a grasshopper. His friend lifts his arms helplessly, mouthing a silent sorry. Pidge is still shaken by the fact that Iverson let her be – or not her, but a ‘distant cousin’ of Matt’s, a live copy of a diseased boy, so Iverson doesn’t look too closely, averts his eye to avoid the eye contact for longer than two seconds, he’s “yes yes, cadet, try your best” and Pidge would never give him a reason to look at ‘him’ more closely. So she misses the moment, when the boy’s arms snakes around her shoulder, and she is struck by an electric bolt, she is suffocating and feverish, and before the boy opens his mouth to introduce himself, Pidge already knows his name.

Lance.

She never says it out loud, but she kind of envies the rest of the team.

Pidge realizes that while scrubbing the sink in the kitchen. Thanks to her allergy, she is relieved of the dusting duty, because instead of cleaning the table in the common room. Lance started doodling on it, and when she pointed out that he has the worst case of the chicken scratch, he kept poking her nose, which ended up in an endless series of deafening sneezes.

It has been hardly a doodle, to be honest, more like a wiggly writing, a name, repeated all over.

Katie Holt, Katie Holt, Katie Holt, Katie Holt, Katie Holt – Keith destroys that obsessive scribbling with one wipe, and Lance attacks him of course, because apparently, his mark isn’t quite normal, just a single letter ‘S’, and obviously, he must be super mega jealous of Lance’s amazing soul mate. Hunk grunts disapprovingly, because he has nothing at all, and Lance is quick to apologize for his inattentive words, but still reaches out to smack Keith. Hunk doesn’t hold it against him, because Lance shoots words like he shoots a rifle – carelessly but dead on target – but Hunk is used to it. He is a little bit concerned about not having a mark, but if you have priorities and if you’re not Lance, you realize there’s not much time for romance and soulmates with all the training and the whole universe under oppression from an advanced alien race of violet lizard cats.

So, Keith has a wriggle of a letter for a soulmark, Hunk has none at all and Shiro has lost his mark with his right arm. Not forgetting to mention that soulmates as a concept is unknown to Alteans in general.

When asked, Pidge lies and says that she does not have one either.

“Maybe your soulmate isn’t born or hasn’t hit puberty yet,” Shiro tries to console her. “Mine appeared quite late. I was already thinking I got none at all.”

“Meet me and my sugar baby in thirty years,” Pidge mumbles in reply.

Not that they talk about it often or something – unless you’re Lance, of course – it just pops up now and then, especially when Allura and Coran notice the marks on the actors during the movie night. Coran thinks it’s wonderfully romantic.

More like a premise for groundbreaking disappointment, if you ask Pidge, as she moves on to polish the tap. Lance seems enamored with this imaginary ‘Katie Holt’, he flirts and falls in love with every skirt, because she’s a reflection of his little dream. Because he’s so full of love for the One and Only that he just can’t hold it anymore and the love spills over the edges and covers everyone around. It’s a little bit disturbing. It’s a little bit scary.

Because sooner or later Lance will find out that his sweetheart ‘Katie Holt’ is just scrawny Pidge, who is always sweaty and has moons of dirt under her nails.

Which yet again proves that this whole soulmate thing is crap, because they haven’t suddenly fallen madly in love at first sight. Maybe it has some activation code? Like your soulmate has to address you by the name that is on their soulmark or touch it or something? Does that mean that soulmarks mean nothing for mute people or someone in a situation like Shiro? Figures why he’s so unbothered by the whole ‘lost my soulmark in space’ issue.

After ten thousands years of slumber, the castle has stood up quite well, and yet it still resembles most of all a haunted house. Dust and alien spider webs everywhere, the windows have grown turbid. The exterior of the castle is covered by plates that resemble their solar panels, so there has been enough energy to preserve Allura and Coran’s bodies and coordinate cleaning bots, but many of them got broken or lost throughout the time. The energy also supplied the defense system, so nobody could break in, but at the same time nobody has aired the place for ten thousand years, and the air conditioning system has been defeated by time and lack of sentient presence.

There seemed to always be a distinct odor in corridors and they even spotted some mold. Usually (always) it’s the cleaning bots’ job, but blabbing something about discipline and necessity of chores for self-organization, Shiro has coerced them into helping out. More likely he couldn’t sleep at night so he busied himself with something while they stayed on Arus. It would be foolish to jump right into the action, while nobody had any idea what has been going on in the Universe for the past thousand years and paladins still didn’t have any sort of training with the Lions. Thus, they have stayed for a while to prepare and catch up.

Pidge wonders who used to sleep in her room and she is grateful that the cleaning bots have removed previous owner’s belongings before she moved in. The paladin uniform has no size, but she had to adjust the seat in the Green Lion. She can’t help but wonder what life had been like then. Allura and Coran do not let too much out, and all the documents are in Altean – they understand each other because of the universal translators, but in order to read stuff, she has to be better than the intermediate level she can read at now.

They have watched a couple of classic Altean movies, too, during the movie nights. Pidge tries to watch them in the evenings, with subtitles rather than translation. Altean language is unlike any language on Earth (not that she personally speaks many, but she’s not a brat who resorts to generalizing, she checked it against any known languages in the system.) It’s difficult to distinguish separate words, as their speech is melodious and mostly consists of vowels. Although Lance’s vocabulary is built on the derivatives of ‘quiznak’, he often joins her. Hunk is busy learning how to pilot with Shiro and after a unanimous vote, he is not allowed to culturally exchange with Coran. However, it has been too little, too late, the damage has already been done. Now they are running laps and exercising to BTS and Girls’ Generation, transmitted throughout the whole castle

There are certain things that will most surely turn you listless, that will rob you of any energy and make something as essential and undemanding as a trip to the restroom into a challenge. One of those things is Coran’s enthusiastic account of the adventures of his youth. While the components of these anecdotes individually are unbelievable and would suffice for a next generation of Hollywood movies, and Coran’s manner of speaking is quite engaging, he has a habit of focusing on wrong details, the aspects of these stories that are the complete opposite of cool.

Another one will be writing reports. No explanation necessary. Everyone hates writing reports.

For Pidge, the third one is summer. There was no school in summer and yes, she didn’t like school that much, but sometimes it was nice. Summer was never nice. She knew that her classmates went someplace together or at least keeping contact, FaceTiming, Snapchatting, WhatsApping or otherwise osculating each other through social media. No one has ever sent her a message to ask how her summer was going. She didn’t bother, because she had Matt. He’s never been really popular either.

But then he left for Garrison, where population of nerds is three to one. “Don’t call them nerds,” – often said Dad, - “call them people of extreme passions”. Yeah, for example, he and Matt, who seemed to have an extreme passion for this Shiro guy. Shiro was a special kind of nerd, like the mastermind of espionage who managed to blend into the crowd of jocks, but a nerd nonetheless. He could not tell Nitrogen from Sodium (he still tried to drop cringy jokes: are you made of Copper and Tellurium?) but he could draw the star map with his eyes closed and all while piloting a can without an engine through a meteor shower.

Shiro would sometimes come around, but more often than not he would snatch Matt away somewhere, because apparently there was a Buttercup to their Bubbles and Blossom, who resided closer to the Garrison than here. They invited her along, but she didn’t want to be a deadweight, so she refused, reduced to a sulking amoeba at her desk, melting under the July sun, too lazy to open a book or even lift her eyelids, but too hot to have anything more substantial than constant drowsiness.

So one cannot overstate the extent of willpower it requires keeping concentration, while being stuck writing a report under Coran’s guidance, while being horribly sunburnt. Pidge peels off a little piece of dead skin from her nose and sighs. Thanks to conditioning systems, it was nicely cool inside the castle, but she can’t appreciate it, because she’s already a boiled crab and she’s not in the castle, she is in a tent with almost transparent walls. Objectively guys have it worse, because they’re currently digging wells for a nation of desert dwellers, but Pidge is not a very sympathetic person, especially while impersonating Freddie Krueger. Coran remains to look fresh and chirpy, which is beyond annoying.

The planet of eternal July, wonderful. Pidge can’t wait to return to the cold abyss of outer space.

Had they been more careful, the robeast wouldn’t have destroyed the reservoir, the only reservoir for miles and miles of dust and soil so dry it cracks. It is their responsibility (plus there’s a high probability they’re the only ones capable) to build a new system of water supply.

And so they have stayed for a little longer. First day they have worked with Lions, but it proved that the soil was too crumbly and needed a careful approach. They resolved to good old digging and sometimes applying bayards, namely Hunk’s cannon or Lance’s blaster. It was time-consuming, tiring and seemingly unsuccessful – although Allura assured them that they would soon reach underground waters. Pidge got her free pass, when she got sunburned even through damp clothes. Others had to continue.

That’s the kind of work they do everywhere. In Allura’s words: not only fighting, but also rebuilding. Pidge hates all this physical work, but she can’t deny it has its own merits, when they make living a little bit easier for someone. She tries to keep a journal of all the different races and cultures they come across, but there’re so many. Could she have imagined that back in her room, paralyzed with boredom? She has always had a vivid imagination, but she couldn’t process that Earth, a whole separate world, a multitude of languages, practices and traditions, different people and countries – always has been a speck of the cosmos, with histories much bigger and older than her.

So far none of the alien had an idea even remotely similar to soulmates. It puts a whole discourse of soulmates into a new perspective. It puts a whole discourse on the existence of God into a new perspective. They have seen aliens larger than life: ancient, powerful, terrifying – totally godlike. Woods of Olkarion, Balmera, Ziggurat and many more. Meeting such entities is a lot like having a religious experience.

The further from Earth, the more Pidge rethinks her own views and in fact she finds herself leaning towards agnosticism rather than atheism.

Coran stops short of the climax of a recount of his days with fashion pirates (for the seventh time), when the drapes are drawn for a mere moment, and they are hit with a strong wave of dry air, devoid of anything but sand. Guys crawl inside and drop dead on thin cushions. Coran goes around, literally nursing them from a little clayey cup. After a while, one of them jiggles like a worm, refusing to get up and walk like a human being, and gets closer to Pidge.

It’s Lance, obviously. He uncovers his face, blinding her with a grin.

She should comment on him reeking of sweat and how funny he looks in a turban made of wet cloths. The truth is, she must look as ridiculous as he. More ridiculous, because despite turban and Halloween mummy inspired costume, he still manages to look… nice.

Lance reaches out to flick her nose, but stops at the last second and chucked with affinity.

“Wanna check something out? We’ll need to take the Lions, though.” “What? Now?” she tries to say that without moving any muscles. “Yep.”

She means to say no, but shrugs and nods instead. With a sudden burst of renewed power, Lance jumps up and drinks some more water, eager to take off right away.

“What about others?” she finally croaks. “Hunk?” Lance pokes him. “No, thanks,” mumbles back the pile of clothes. “Shiro?” “No.” “Coran?” “Thank you, but I must decline.” “See? They’re quitters. Sad and bitter.”

With a raised eyebrow, Pidge turns to Keith, but before even asking she realizes he’s definitely not interested.

Maybe it’s a smart move, she considers, while entering the world of heat and sand again. They take Blue, because Green channels Pidge’s mood about moving in such weather, and Blue carries them towards the horizon, rigged with steep mountain peaks.

This planet has its own sun, larger than the Earth’s one, like a ball of blazing whiteness. She doesn’t rotate, which means there’s no night and day, and the other side of the planet is nothing more than frozen wastelands. Tribes’ greatest punishment is being stranded on the borders of the eternal night. Throughout the whole known history of several millenniums, there are only six known cases of such sentences. There is also a myth of a lost tribe, though. At the beginning of civilization, there had been Thirteen Tribes, but after the Great War, one of them had been banished forever. However, the Thirteenth Tribe survived, tamed the night and prepared to return one day and get their revenge. Voltron has scanned the surface of the planet while passing and they haven’t noticed any life forms on the icy half, but who knows? Maybe they’re good at hiding. Maybe they’ve gone underground. Maybe they’re ice zombies. Game of Thrones might be onto something.

There is some irony in the fact that one part of the planet suffers from water shortage, while the other is basically covered with water. In times of the greatest needs, there were many expeditions to bring the ice, but only few returned. Not only there is a drastic gap in the temperatures, the only way is through a mountain chain. Being better equipped, Voltron has brought large chunks of ice, but people really need those wells.

Blue gracefully lands on a secret plateau, and Lance commands Pidge to put on the paladin suit. They leave the armor, content with the layered black jumpsuit.

When they exit Blue, Pidge is about to ask what’s it all about, but swallows the question.

The high sky is heavy with reds and orange and smudges of yellow, blues and purples – it looks like a mindless watercolor practice, it looks like nothing she has seen before. They have passed it on their way and she hasn’t even paid attention. It’s not visible from far above.

“One side is eternal day, another is eternal night, and in the middle…”

In the middle is the eternal sunset. Sunrise. Neither and both.

Lance looks smug and rests his elbow on her shoulder. The soulmark pulsates, and she’s afraid for a moment, that he will feel it even through the clothes, but Lance remains oblivious. The cool air gently touches her hurt face and eases the pain.

For once in a while, Pidge doesn’t think anything. She just stands on the edge of a plateau and enjoys the sunset. Or sunrise.

Neither.

Both.

#pidge big bang #plance #pidgance #pidge gunderson #vld lance #voltron

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nightsblossom · 4 years ago

Text

Fate Stay Re:Tail

Synopsis: A mysterious store appears in Shirou's neighborhood.

Genres: magical realism, action/adventure, alternative universe

Rating: teen and older

Content: canon divergence: au, retail: au

Chapters: 1/13

- - - - -

It was midnight.

The cool wind traveled through the dew dripped grass

beneath a shabby house,

beneath two little feet that kicked back and forth,

as he gazed interminably at the dangled stars above,

"one star...two stars...three stars", the little boy murmured.

"four stars...five stars...six stars", his kicks motioned gradually.

"seven stars...eight stars...nine stars", his kicks continued,

the wind traversed its way to his soft linen kimono loosely wrapped in an obi belt.

His skin prickled but not enough to make him shiver.

"I wonder where he is? It's past his usual time" , he thought to himself.

- - - - -

The pleasant evenings of being held by his father’s hands furnished his mind.

They crossed a field of pasture dipped in shades of blue below a dark sky.

The temperature was slightly breezy with a subtle hint of cold.

Luckily for Shirou, he didn’t need to bring an extra kimono to keep himself from the weather.

This man whom he called father assured the boy not to worry, since he was familiar with Japan's seasonal changes.

At least, from how he confidently spoke about it.

The dark-haired man held Shirou’s hand close to his waist,

as their wooden sandals left trails of cemented footprints at each corner.

- - - - -

It seemed like a winded path to Shirou as he wondered where?

where was Emiya taking him to?

Could it be a relative he wanted to meet?

Could it be a new shop he wanted to eat at?

Or could it be his secret workshop where all those talks of magic and tricks he creates?

Whatever it is - it made Shirou lit a small flame inside of him.

His thoughts deepened until a foreign object whacked him in the eyes.

His left hand jerked Emiya’s arm back.

Emiya stopped and turned his head to his son.

Shirou slowly rubbed his eyes from the hit.

“Is something wrong, Shirou?”

He nodded.

“I’m alright.”

“What happened?” Emiya leaned over with a concerned look.

“Oh I got hit by this weird thing”

Emiya retraced Shirou’s step and then, saw a strange U-shaped object.

His eyes were fixated on it.

It looked strangely familiar, he thought.

As his thoughts pondered,

his fingers dwindled around the outlines like a confectioner who pinched and smoothed out the dough.

They made their way to the stem inwardly, then outwardly to the end tip.

He leaned in, while his thumb and index gently pressed to avoid tears. He sniffed it. He stood in awe.

“Oh! This smell- this is an x.”

“An x?” Shirou tilted his head.

He never saw his father this excited since he took him from the children’s hospital.

“Shirou, this plant is an x. It’s part of the genus family x. The Latin term means y. If you put them together is w”

“Ohhh…”, Shirou nodded and pursed his lips.

“This kind of stuff sounded like those big brain books grown ups like him enjoy reading .”

- - - - -

There was silence.

“I don’t get it but it sounds neat.”

Emiya chuckled. “Here”, he said, while he motioned his hand to come forward.

He went close to him to see the spectacle.

“When a plant comes into bloom. It gets plucked and then, it gets turned into many different

things...like...”

His left hand gently laid upon his son’s shoulder.

“The blanket I wrap around you at night.”

Shirou’s mind felt the warmth of the softest cotton.

“The lingering scent of the woman...or a medicine to cu-rr-”

His eyes widened. He tried to open his mouth again.

“To-to..he..”

“To he?”

“No-no, it’s he he-”

“He-he?”

Emiya fell silent.

The wind flew past them like a ghost.

The cool temperature turned cold.

Nothing but the sounds of grasshoppers filled the void between father and son.

Shirou felt a sudden strong pressure on his shoulder.

It was heavy.

It was shaky.

It was his father’s hand.

Now, this wasn’t something he was used to either.

The movement reminded him of an earthquake rumbling through hard cement -

creating, breaking, and destroying everything in its path.

Curious, but frightened the little boy slowly looked up at his father.

His countenance was shadowed by the darkness, but with one small squint fell a teardrop.

Another fell and then another.

A stream of glistening water overflowed his shadowy eyes.

Shirou didn’t know what to do.

Emotions like sadness and anger are hard to soothe away.

It’s even harder to know what caused him to cry.

“I’ve never seen him like this..” , Shirou thought.

His brown eyes slowly moved away from his father to the strange big plant.

“I didn’t know this plant could bring so much pain…”

- - - - -

The boy’s body remained unmoved, except for the increased pressure on his shoulder blade.

He couldn’t just let it go on.

He had to say something. Anything to calm his father. With all his strength, he formed a small o with his

lips and whispered,

“Father..your hand…”

His fingers gradually opened and then, his palm lifted up.

“Shhhhiruo…”, he croaked. “I-I’ sorry you hadd to see me like this.”

“It’s okay to cry.”

“No - it’s just allerg-ies.”, Emiya replied as he cleared his throat. “I should’ve known this plant was the

problem.”

He clenched his left hand to his mouth.

He coughed.

Shirou sidestepped away to make room for him.

This was the first of his life he witnessed grief.

But what pondered him the most about it.

This moment revealed a hidden past he couldn't rewind.

If he had the ability to go back, would it damage or enhance his view of his father?

"I don't know what to do...what should I-"

His eyes widen at a touch on his shoulder blade.

He slowly nodded back, still turned away.

Emiya lowered his position to Shirou's height.

His hand still on his shoulder gently pulled him towards his direction.

Shirou's eyes looked down at his own feet, avoiding eye contact.

His father's eyebrows were raised by this peculiar behavior.

He was always so attentive regardless of the situation.

Emiya thought for a second. And then, an idea popped up. It had to be his outburst.

"He must think it's his fault..."

"Shirou....", he spoke calmly.

He hummed back.

"The years I spent with you weren't because you were a burden. My life is fulfilled because of you."

Shirou's shoulders jumped a little.

"I awaited for the day to help others; others who were needed someone to carry their burdens.

Whether it's big or small- I will help them."

He pivoted his entire body to face his son.

"One day, I know you'll become a champion of heroes" he murmured as his face titled to see his son's.

Shirou's stomach dropped by those words. Those words he remembers him reciting like a prayer to God.

'Champion of heroes' carries a strong aura in its title.

It evokes an image of a king clothed in the finest material and with the most

powerful weapon in hand.

He stood on the highest peak of a mountain oversees his works and the people served.

The image moved Shirou ever since.

"I must tell you something I've kept from you. It's important you listen very carefully."

He refocused his attention on Emiya's instructions.

He whispered it so faintly in his ears.

Shirou heard it... but couldn't understand it. The message was cryptic.

"What does it mean, father?"

He stared at him.

"You'll know, Shirou. You will know.."

Emiya looked up at the star-lit sky.

- - - - -

The stars in the sky seemed to move like an ocean.

They were vast in numbers.

They shined brilliantly as if guiding the viewer who sees them to their destination.

The destination had returned to a place he knew - home.

Shirou's felt his presence again in the same place he sat.

This was like the moment back in the fields.

Calm and unfiltered.

Before he got up to sleep, a doorbell rang from the hallway.

His eyes leaped with joy.

"It's got to be him. I know it's him."

Shirou rose while clutching his kimono up to his chest.

He opened and closed the screen door.

Then trotted on the floorboards.

The doorbell rang agian.

He couldn't wait to see his father.

He always brought something interesting from his job.

He opened the door and to his surprise, it wasn't his father but Fujimura, Taiga.

"Oh, Shirou...I'm surprised you're still up?", she inquired suspiciously.

"Umm..yes", Shiruo replied as he looked down at his feet.

"Did the big mean Tenju woke you up?"

He nodded his head no.

Taiga let out a chuckle while holding a brown package in her right arm.

The package jingled inside. It almost sounded like bells. It caught his attention.

"I got a special gift for you from a special person."

She laid her left hand under the bottom, then with her right hand on the top.

Taiga flipped it over and gave the box to him.

"From father?"

Her lips curled like a cat's whiskers.

She wanted to say it but couldn't say it. It was visible in the way she clasped her hands together; tingling with excitement.

"Fujimura-san, where is he?

"Open the box."

"Is he coming back?"

"He will after his trip.."

"A trip to where?"

"Oh, he didn't tell me when... but I'm sure it would soon."

Shirou noticed something off but couldn't figure it out...

Taiga is usually upbeat but her reaction towards his questions was a bit different.

"Maybe it's for the best right now to ask more."

His fingers thumbed at the thick wrapping paper.

The box was addressed to him in English.

Slowly but surely he ripped the covering with force.

Leaving behind scraps of trash.

It revealed a white square object folded in tri-folds.

One by one, he flipped the folds and saw what he couldn't believe.

#fate stay night #fate stay night unlimited blade works #fate stay night fanfiction #shirou emiya #taiga fujiwara #kitsurgu emiya #fsn chapter 1/13 #fate stay re:tail #unlimited blade works #fsn #aus #46chromo

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livingcorner · 4 years ago

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How to Keep Snakes Out of Your Garden – Gardening Channel

by Matt Gibson

You're reading: How to Keep Snakes Out of Your Garden – Gardening Channel

If you’re trying to keep snakes out of your garden, we certainly don’t blame you. Unfortunately snakes love to hang out in areas that are covered in a dense array of plants. They are drawn to spots where there is plenty of foliage that can serve as camouflage while they sneak up close enough to their prey to strike. They also prefer densely canopied areas because the coverage provides shade to cool their skins while the weather is warm. Snakes love a location that is an abundant source of food.

Unfortunately, these preferences mean that your garden is most likely a paradise to the eye of both venomous and non-venomous snakes alike. This article will cover the best strategies for keeping these reptilian rascals from making your garden their home.

So what makes your garden such a perfect habitat for snakes? Gardens are usually packed full of plants that cover the ground and provide both shade and plenty of hiding places. Most gardens also have at least one or two beds that are devoted to food production, whether that means fruits or vegetables, and some also have an herb garden. Even gardens that are completely devoted to blossoms and blooms still most likely contain plenty of plants that would make a great meal for a snake. In addition, gardens are usually a hotspot for rodents and other small prey that a snake can add to their feast on if they are not in the mood for simply a light salad.

Luckily, there are steps that gardeners can take to make their yards less attractive to serpents. There are even plants you can grow that will make snakes think twice about making your garden their home—or even just a comfortable place to spend an afternoon.

Read on to learn all about how to keep snakes out of your garden, and you’ll also pick up a few steps you can take to deter these pests before they become an issue. If you’ve already spotted snakes in your garden beds, this article will teach you a few tricks to send them packing quickly in search of a friendlier place to set up shop.

Tips to Keep Snakes Out of the Garden

Mow and Tidy Up the Lawn

Snakes love nothing more than to slither through tall grass undetected. Piles of rocks, wood, and other debris have lots of crevices and crannies that make a perfect place for snakes to hide between or underneath. Eliminate this allure by cleaning up the ground in your yard, removing any and all unneeded debris, and mowing the grass regularly. Snakes are not likely to stick around your yard when every spot they can find exposes them to the elements. If they were safe and sound under a blanket of grass and debris, and find one day it’s all of a sudden clean and tidy, snakes will pack up and leave in a hurry.

Read more: Foxes, cats and squirrels: how to deter them from your garden – Which? News

Keep Hedges and Bushes Clean, Too

Small prey, such as mice and frogs, tend to seek out the shelter of hedges, shrubs, or bushes to hide from predators and relax in the shaded areas that these small, ornamental garden fixtures provide. To make these spots less of an all-you-can-eat prey buffet for snakes, clean out the dead leaves and other debris that tends to accumulate underneath bushes and shrubs. If the small prey have no place to hide, they will move on. Once your garden area is lacking small prey for snakes to devour, they will search out places that are more accommodating to their appetites.

Check Structures for Gaps or Holes

Check the foundation around your home for small openings and gaps where snakes and other tiny reptiles can slide in and start setting up homes for their families. Also check for cracks underneath the doors of your garage, tool shed, storm shelter, or other structures on your property. When cleaning up the lawn, pay special attention to clearing debris away from structures as well. Inspect the outside of your home for small holes and cracks, then seal them up for protection against any unwanted houseguests—especially the snakes that are so attracted to these nooks and crannies.

Collect Eggs Before Snakes Have a Chance

Snakes thoroughly enjoy chicken eggs, and they have often been spotted lurking around chicken coops, waiting for the chance to fill up on their favorite protein source. Once snakes have already found your chicken coop and successfully snagged a meal or two made of your chickens’ prized eggs, the snakes will keep returning to see whether another treat is on the menu. If snakes have already infiltrated your chicken house, you may want to move the coop entirely to throw them off course. Alternatively, you can be sure to always collect your eggs regularly and never give a snake the opportunity to feed again. They will eventually get tired of striking out and lose interest in hunting around your chickens and their eggs.

Mulch With Rough, Jagged Materials

No one likes stepping on broken glass or rolling around in a bed of sharp rocks or thorns—and snakes are no different. Their sensitive scales do not like to travel over sharp surfaces. Therefore, one great way to deter garden snakes is to add a top layer of a rough, sharp mulch to your garden beds that they’ll find uninviting. Use natural materials, such as pine cones, sharp rocks, eggshells, or holly leaves, and lay out a surface that no snake would choose to slither across.

Use a Nontoxic Snake Repellent

Repellents are often packed full of potentially harmful chemicals that you don’t want anywhere near the garden where you grow your food. These chemical repellents can also be a problem if you have pets, who are susceptible to harm due to exposure to toxic chemicals because of their small size and tendency to eat whatever they find on the ground. Luckily, there are some nontoxic snake repellents available on the market that will effectively deter snakes from your garden—while at the same time keeping your pets, friends, family, and yourself safe from exposure to harmful chemicals and toxins.

Granular snake repellent can be sprinkled all around the garden, along the sidewalk, and around the foundation of the house. It can also be used to create a barrier around any structure that you want to deter snakes from entering. Treat your garden and other high-traffic areas on your property with granular snake repellent once every two to three weeks until your yard has been free of snake sightings for a while.

Target Other Pests

Most snakes are predators. They survive off of small prey, such as mice, moles and rats, as well as an array of insects, including crickets, grasshoppers, snails and slugs. If your garden area is free from the small prey and insects that snakes love to eat, they will have no reason to stick around and starve. Once you get rid of their food sources, the snakes in your garden will go somewhere else in search of more abundant sources of food.

Cultivate Plants That Deter Snakes Naturally

Luckily, gardeners have access to some of the best weapons out there when it comes to fighting unwanted garden visitors. We’re talking about the plants that have evolved to repel pests on their own in various ways, such as with strong odors or sharp thorns and leaves. The four plants we’ve listed below are great choices to keep snakes moving along past your garden. Choosing one or two of these may do the trick to prevent a snake infestation from occurring, but growing all four of these plants should do the trick to keep snakes away and send any current reptilian garden occupants slithering away in search of some new digs.

Lemongrass:

West Indian lemongrass produces a strong citrus smell that deters snakes. The pungent aroma that lemongrass creates (similar to lemon) doesn’t just ward off serpents, though. It can also drive away pesky mosquitoes and even disease-carrying ticks. As if you needed any more reasons to add lemongrass to your garden arsenal, it’s also drought resistant, easy to grow, and its foliage makes it a pleasant addition to any garden.

Onions and Garlic:

Onion and garlic plants emit a smell that is not only unpleasant to snakes, it also disorients them. Garlic, especially, is effective at fending off snakes. As they slide over a clove’s papery husk, the oily residue of the garlic gets on their skin, and this oil affects the snake in the same way slicing an onion affects a sensitive-eyed chef. Snakes react to garlic oil as if it were pepper spray. They will leave your property quickly, and likely take the memory with them as a lasting reminder of why they should not return.

Snake Plant:

Read more: 5 Ways to Keep Snakes Out of Your Garden

Also known as mother-in-law’s tongue, the snake plant is a great garden addition as a way to keep snakes away. Just the sight of this plant’s sharp leaves and striking appearance is actually said to frighten snakes away from the general vicinity where it grows.

Marigolds:

The marigold has a deep-growing and aggressive root system that emits a smell that keeps snakes moving along, and it has the same effect on many other garden pests, such as gophers and moles. The brightly colored flowers and pungent aroma attract beneficial insects and pollinators, like birds, butterflies, and bees, while driving away pests large and small.

Videos about deterring snakes from your garden?

Check out this informative list of plants that deter snakes:

youtube

This video reviews several popular snake repellents and lets you know which ones actually work to keep snakes and other reptiles out of your yard:

youtube

Want to learn more about deterring snakes from your garden?

Gardening Know How covers Getting Rid Of Garden Snakes – How To Keep Snakes Out Of Garden For GoodHGTV covers How to Keep Snakes Out of Your Garden Huffington Post Life covers 5 Ways to Keep Snakes Out of the House and Yard this Spring I Must Garden covers How to Repel Snakes Pests.org covers Best Plants to Naturally Repel Snakes The Spruce covers How to Get Rid of Snakes Naturally

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/how-to-keep-snakes-out-of-your-garden-gardening-channel/

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