#soup moth??? the beloved

[obsessivecelestial]

Hegh

I found my old wacom tablet (It's so scratched up *sobbing*) and decided to try and draw using Paint-

Surprisingly, went better than I thought :3

[ghoodles]

HEBEBEBBEBEBE YES.

INFODUMPING ENGAGED!!!

so, quilt

Quilt is my little soup goober, i love him very much.

He's a multighoul for the ministry (ghost bc) and doesnt exactly play in the band

Instead, he just works around the ministry helping with tasks such as cooking, cleaning, ect.

There is a small bit of lore i decided to put in, because we have no idea which ghoul had euthanized the papas in i think chapter 3.

Yeah it was him

And he feels absolutely guilty for it. 100%, always.

Why? Because Copia wasnt the one that summoned her.

Terzo was.

She was summoned in the late-meliora era of ghost, AKA Terzo's run. This not only makes her the oldest multighoul (i think, correct me if im wrong), but also makes him more attached to him and his ghouls. So, when Quilt was assigned the task, directly by Sister Imperator, they, well..

They suffered.

A lot.

Because not only was he mourning, but everyone she was attatched to blamed him for it, especially Omega.

And, well, they arent wrong to. She knows that, but.. they sometimes wish that they wouldnt, just for that taste of what once was again- and to not be met with coldness and agression.

ANYWAY MORE DOODLES

Oh there was an artemis one too

I might ramble about her soon but for now just ignore the spider ghoul, its like 1:30 am i need to sleep

You. Tumblr user reading this. This post is an excuse to rant about your OCs. If you want to, reblog it and tell everyone all about them in the tags/replies <3

[bugthingsdaily]

i also spam you with many (not all but many) of the bug things from my room

TW for taxidermy bugs in the last 2 images-

We have: dragonfly fabric from the vest I made, mantis sparkling water can, stag beetle pin, little ladybug guy, spider garland, snail pincushion i made for my friend, and then my beloveds turkey sub (moth), chicken noodle soup(Japanese beetle), and salami (praying mantis)

SO COOOOOL!!! that pincushion is amazing i need one of those so bad omg. and your specimens are so neat

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

i’m kinda sick rn so just some brainrot of FL when reader falls sick. The poor baby doesn’t know what to do, Childe himself rarely ever gets sick so he doesn’t know what to do to take care of reader. I’m just imagining him sitting beside reader’s bed whining softly as he watches them sleep. He sees how they seem really uncomfy but he can’t do anything to help his beloved because he’s so clueless on what to do.

i think later FL would just let Childe take control of their body so that he can take care of you

-sleepy anon

in honor of both of us not being at 100%, here is some cozy moth comfort!!

you shift when you hear soft, sad whimpers beside you, turning over and opening your eyes just a crack to see Foul Legacy staring at you, claws worrying the bedsheets. he lets out a concerned whine, leaning forward and nuzzling your cheek with his as you grasp one of his talons with your hand, giving him a weak but reassuring smile. Legacy trills sadly, closing his pretty blue eye and allowing the Abyssal magic to fall and melt back into Childe, who exhales deeply and laces your fingers with his. he fusses over you for the rest of the day, tucking your blankets in around your chin and bringing you hot soup- his mother's recipe! he swears that he didn't put any weird fish in it like he usually does, only sitting down on the bed and watching to make sure you eat every last bit. Childe insists that he doesn't GET sick, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and tenderly petting your hair. you idly begin poking his freckles and the Eleventh Harbinger just chuckles, a wonderful rumbling sound from his chest, and brushes the tip of his nose against yours

it's midnight the next time you wake up, the outside world hushed and silent apart from the chirping of cicadas- but your room isn't quiet, the opposite, actually, with how deeply Foul Legacy is purring. his arms are wrapped firmly around your waist, the consistent purrs soothing your aching head, and you attempt to snuggle closer despite how your eyes burn and your breath comes out weak and shaky. Legacy grumbles in his sleep and pulls you closer, his armor cool against your warm skin and claws gently grasping your shirt. for a moment it feels as if all the pain fades away, your head against Foul Legacy's chest as you lean up and peck his cheek before closing your eyes again, the soft, constant purring and perfect temperature lulling you to sleep once more <3

[paranormaljones]

ok, first off you are beloved friend mutual<3, but also somehow cowboy and fox and moth and #1 Lucy Carlyle defender (bless) mutual!

💙💙💙 i am honored to be known for such things!! i realize now that i could have listed so many more things for what mutual you are because we have so many shared interests XD you are also the Psych mutual and the correct Star Wars opinion haver mutual and the making soup mutual and of course the Lockwood & Co. mutual and countless other things 😂

[accessible-tumbling]

[ID copied from alt:

a tweet from @hollycassell saying: "The best New Year's resolution I ever made was to start devouring all my nicest things, and save no small pleasure for an unspecified future. Now I burn the good candles, wear the expensive perfume at home, scribble imperfectly in pretty notebooks. You can't pin joy like a moth."

a tweet from @yashatovah saying: "Yeah, olive oil and cheese and pastries can make you a little fat. Yeah, sunshine gives you wrinkles and wine ruins your liver and spending money on pretty things eats up your savings. But unfortunately, I've decided to enjoy life anyways"

a tumblr post from @moveslikekeithrichards saying: "doing my damnedest to free myself of the “just gotta get through this week” “only x more days til the weekend” mindset & learn to appreciate each day for whatever it is lest i be driven to madness. so what if tomorrows monday i have leftovers & maybe this week i will make soup. maybe ill see a cat. maybe each day will show me something worthwhile even if im tired & maybe i can enjoy it"

a tweet from @FitFounder saying: "Your body is a machine: Use food, workouts & mobility to upgrade your hardware. Use books, writing & meditation to upgrade your software."

a quote from karl marx saying: "The less you eat, drink and buy books; the less you go to the theatre, the dance hall, the public house; the less you think, love, theorise, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more you save – the greater becomes your treasure which neither moths nor rust will devour – your capital. The less you are, the more you have; the greater is your alienated life—the greater is the store of your estranged being."

"Please don't forget your kindness, your energy, comes from your body."

a tumblr post from ursulaklegay saying: "actually i love growing older and learning how i work as a person like realizing what kinds of fabrics feel best on my skin or what brand of yogurt i like best or how I want to be touched. watching myself change, enjoying brussel sprouts when I used to hate them as a child, understanding why I got angry in that one conversation 10 years ago… there are so many mysteries inside me that i have yet to unravel and there will always be more and sometimes i think maybe its all worth it"

a tumblr post from pathologising saying: "Dismiss the idea that you are cursed to suffer for eternity and start bringing little joys into your life NOW. It will build up in time..." tumblr user ledbet adds a reply saying: "- Flowers in your kitchen, fresh, home friendly, paper, whatever! - that special type of cookie you like - a family recipe or recipe shared by a friend - nice soft clean sheets - a new hobby - buttons, marbles, sun catchers, glass vases - watching birds in the park or your backyard - homemade ice tea. Homemade lemonade! Homemade hot chocolate!!! - a beloved pet - a good friend - a neighbor you’re getting closer too - a walk in the sun - a nap while its raining - a game or book from your childhood - A treat, because you *deserve* it." End ID]

my 2023 moodboard

[jess-themess05]

I posted 901 times in 2022

That's 901 more posts than 2021!

117 posts created (13%)

784 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theohnocorral

@basyacriptid

@lovelymoonmagic

@ice-reblogs

I tagged 778 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#fnaf sun - 186 posts

#fnaf security breach - 179 posts

#fnaf daycare attendant - 167 posts

#fnaf moon - 159 posts

#fnaf - 123 posts

#beloved mutuals - 69 posts

#mutual shenanigans - 63 posts

#fnaf security breach au - 48 posts

#fnaf au - 38 posts

#fnaf eclipse - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#despite probably putting the fear of god in everyone who came across you admitting to have drunk fire starter and sulfuric acid

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

tehehe yes spider lmao

Actually im shoked I didn't saw anyone draw him like that before, bc he is litteraly

CREATUR CRAWLING ON WALLS AND HIS WIRE IS LITTERALY LIKE SPIDER WEB!!!

hmm

checks out.

53 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

#4

oh hey a finished art piece

wow would ya look at that

in case you’ve never heard of this fanfic tHIS

this is the bug love fanfic! by @theohnocorral respectfully

this is just my interpretation of him, but of course he has a more official design hehe

my next plan of action is moon man!! he’s a gosh darn moth :)

extras down below!

See the full post

141 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

#3

See the full post

398 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

#2

Favorite fics?

oh geez. i’m gonna try keep it sweet and simple less i go on and make it unbearable to read. also these summaries are gonna be terrible but i think all of these are gonna be fnaf sun and moon fics i’m SORRY ITS IN MY HEAD BUT ANYWAYS- SHORT N SWEET LES GO

A Dose of Sunshine and Starlight - @give-me-your-monsters a slow burn w/ lots of angst and bittersweet-ness aww but you are all mentally ill.

Bug Love - @theohnocorral the boys are now bug-ified gods and take a liking to a mortal who probably apologies to inanimate objects

Universal Jesters - @lovelymoonmagic you accidentally become the handler to pair of bots with memory loss and mystery trauma

it was, in reality, not fine - @bones-of-a-rabbit you, the reader, have the self preservation skills as a bowl of soup. also oblivious to love hehe

Late Night to Early Morning - Loyal_Backstabber reader meets neglected robot clowns and vows to risk their life for them

Solar Lunacy - @bamsara its- ITS SOLAR LUNACY. anyways you meet certified murder robots and say i can fix em, they’re gonna fix u too.

copper cogs rusted through - @paper-lilypie “oh what’s this, one of these jesters tried killing me? eh it’s fine” then you fall in love

Rotating Shifts - LightningTriceratops protag mistakes sun for unconscious, jaundice ridden man and realizes he’s a robot with a not dead brother and separation anxiety

basically ANYTHINGGG by @naffeclipse , but the first story i ever read from them was In Deep Dreams Between the Waves very different fro, eclipse in sleuth jesters cause he’s actually decent. (also poor vanessa girl don’t get a break)

Clowning Around - EngageSage you overcome your anxiety to protect a poor jester, and are fueled by spite to fuck up moon man for being a certified bitch

Celestial hearts in a purple mind - @kabra-malvada *finds ominous object* *touches it* *is shocked to find they are possessed*

Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time on Their Hands - @twinanimatronics & @dana-chan-the-control-brain you fall in love and fight the temptation to resurrect a dead dude and kill him again

The Night Shift - @certified-handler oopsie you now work with a needy jester who sweeps you off your feet, even more oopsie he turns into a psychopath when the lights go out and triple oopsie you fall in love with HIM too

Star Crossed Souls - @faz-friendly-light-up-shoes reader said “god give me a sign i’ll find love.” gets the sign, and ignores it

404: Personal Space Not Found - CrazedAuthor anxiety filled individual thinks they will be fixed by a child supervisor, gets surprised by his stab happy twin

Celestial Syzygy - @echoingkarma you’re like the jack of all trades, including befriending animatronics who may or may not hate you (and want to maim you) you are probably underpaid.

My Neighbor Mr. Roboto - @kagedbird oh what’s this? you think moving into your new apartment will be simple and boring? WRONG there’s a robot in your closet. and everywhere- why are there so many-

Apology Flowers and Blooming Hours - @daunsun you’d think sentient flowers would have no angsty backstory huh? well actually...

Our Orbit is Elliptical - @sycopomp like your intrusive thoughts came to life, and you choose to ignore them

Lost and Found - SmolShampoo technology is so cool right guys? you got ai, and that ai can get traumatized! how cool??

Stare at the Abyss; It Might Look Back - @characcoon reader becomes a human punching bag and finds new rusty robot roommates. once they escape a deteriorating child’s play place they walked into

Ventura Highway - @madamemiz says “hey is anyone gonna take this robot?” and doesn’t wait for an answer.

Repaired Unstable - @blonde-fraumell you decide to work alongside your childhood friend! oh how non threatening he was- hey why’s this man TEN FEET TALL. and why’s this other man so kickable.

also, obligatory mer may fics! even though it’s no longer may these are still being updated :D

Luminescent Charm - @finfiprince reader finds the fishy dudes they saved as a kid in a cage, continues to spite god until they can save them

Celestial Omens (that really like Fishsticks) - @bamsara (again yes) you save two scared bastard fish and feed them in your bathroom, a decade later they see u and go “well they gave us fishsticks no drowning for them”

See the full post

441 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

guess who made one of those ask game things :] yknow cause why not

you know the drill

10,538 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

hey look it’s

it’s the thing!

i forgot i had this in my drafts

[kember-writes]

*＊✿❀ Kember's 400 Follower Celebration - CLOSED ❀✿＊*

Oof, boy. Well, here we are again. I have more Tumblr followers than Facebook friends, which is neat. I still haven't recovered my energy from the 200 celebration, but since I didn't do anything for 300, I want to mark this occasion somehow. Let you know that you're all appreciated and I'm very grateful that you pay attention to my ramblings :)

But, on the note of having limited energy... you guys are going to be doing some of the work here, because I love you so much >:) It's kind of a raffle, it's kind of a fest, and hopefully it's kind of fun too! The rules are, hm, not as simple as usual, so let's go over them:

Step 1 — You send a ❀ to my inbox

You can do this as many times as you like until the celebration closes! That'll be on the 27th February at 3pm GMT.

But, you CAN'T do it anonymously. I need to know who you are!

Step 2 — I answer with a randomly-generated pairing and trope mash-up

So, yeah, there's gonna be some wild ones. Make of that what you will.

Characters may come from any era. There's a good chance they won't be a common, or even unusual, pairing. BUT - I will try to match up characters from the same era, to pre-emptively avoid that kind of ickiness.

For the sake of my sanity, I've only included characters mentally and emotionally capable of maintaining a relationship with a human, so no dragons, no house elves, and no giant spiders will be coming out of my hat. Also the sorting hat doesn't count because I say so. He's a gaslighter. Nagini also does not count because while she may have been an Asian woman in a past life, she is now a snake and that's poor representation.

Step 3 — You respond with a fic prompt based on that

There'll be a cut-off for this - I'll only be taking prompts back until the 6th March at 3pm GMT (again).

Your prompt can be anything you like, from a one-sentence description to an in-depth scenario with accompanying Pinterest vision board and Spotify playlist.

You'll be limited to returning one prompt per ask, to keep things somewhat tame - but as mentioned, you can ask as many times as you like.

Remember to @ my username (@kember-writes) in your response to make sure I see it - I'll reblog them all, so if I haven't reblogged yours, let me know!

Step 4 — When they're all in, I pick the best one and it gets written up as a full-length* fic!

This'll be announced on the 13th March at... yeah, you guessed it, 3pm GMT.

*Full-length referring to something under 10k words, so no multi-chapters.

And the better you know me, the more you'll be able to play this game to your advantage...

Of course, if your prompt doesn't get chosen (or even if it does), you're more than welcome to write it yourself! I'll be claiming no ownership of them.

So to summarise those all-important dates:

Sunday 27th February - I stop taking asks

Sunday 6th March - I stop taking prompts

Sunday 13th March - the winner is revealed

And in the spirit of healthy competition - good luck, and don't fuck it up! I can't wait to see how this turns out.

Mutuals my beloveds below the cut :)

@0theyoutubewhore0 @accio-marauders-bullshit @acciorxses @aeridi0nis @andromedas-star @annie-x-o @ardentlychaotic @astranix @ben-barnes-enthusiast @billsfangearring @blitheringmcgonagall @carolinesalvawhore @chaoticregulusstan @chiechie97 @couldibeanymorechaotic @dead-james-potter @definitelyamarauder @de-sire-blog @dragonsandbeans @dreamyremu @dykesiriusblack @emmacata @enbysiriusblack @exilesblack @gayremus @graceful--chaos @greyeyedmonster-18 @gryffindorsong @howlingpadfoots @impishtubist @iwishiwassiriusblack @jamespotterinskirts @jegulus-trash @jeguluswhore @kismet-ly @lilgaywolf @lostmykeysie @lotta-soup @min-blogg @mischiefhasbeenmanaged @mollymarymarie @moth-rothko @myloser @nymphadorathebubba @officialyobsessedwithmoony @padfoot-supremacy @padgayfoot @pinesconemaybe @problemmarshall

[fwoopersongs]

回眸 - Look Back

by 席慕容 (Xi Murong, 1943 - present)

a quick translation for @rainandginkgo​

佛说：前世的五百次回眸才能换得今生的一次擦肩而过，[1] Buddha said: It takes five hundred backwards glances in a previous life to exchange for one instance of shoulders brushing past this lifetime.

那么，我要用多少次回眸才能真正住进你的心中？ Well then, how many backwards glances must I use to truly make a home in your heart?

前世 我频频回眸 That previous life, I glanced back again and again.

挥别的手帕飘成一朵云 [2] The handkerchief waved in farewell rose, drifting, becoming a cloud plume.

多少相思 多少离愁 The more I think of you, the more our parting grieves me,

终成一道水痕送我远走 [3] until it becomes a swathe of dampness, sending me off on my journey afar.

今生 我寻觅前世失落的足迹 This lifetime, I search for those footsteps that were lost,

跋山涉水 走进你的眼 [4] over mountains, fording streams, walking into your sight.

前世的五百次回眸换得今生的一次擦肩而过 The five hundred backwards glances of a previous life exchanged for one instance of our shoulders brushing past this time.

我用一千次回眸换得今生在你面前的驻足停留 I've used a thousand backwards glances to trade for a pause in my steps before you this lifetime;

问佛 要多少次回眸才能真正住进你的心中 I ask Buddha, how many times must I glance back to truly make a home in your heart.

佛无语 我只有频频回首 Buddha does not speak; I can only glance back again and again,

像飞蛾扑向火 like a moth throwing itself toward the flame,

可以不计后果 可以不要理由 refusing to care about consequences, refusing all logic and reason.

回眸 再回眸 Glance back, and again, glance back.

千次万次 你在我眼中 也在我心中 A thousand times, ten thousand times, you are in my eyes and in my heart too.

我频频回顾着 期待你的温柔 Again and again, I look back, anticipating your gentle tenderness.

我频频回顾着 渴望长相厮守 [5] Again and again, I look back, thirsting for an everlasting companionship.

前世 我在舟中回眸 In that previous life, upon that little boat, I glanced back.

莲叶一片一片 连成我眼中的哀愁 [6] Lotus leaf after lotus leaf join up, up into the despairing sorrow within my eyes.

今生 佛成全我的思念 This lifetime, Buddha has satisfied my yearning,

让我走进你的眼中 allowing me to walk into your sights.

我寻觅了很久 累了 I’ve searched and searched for a long time, and being tired, I

只想在你怀中停息 just want to stop and rest in your embrace,

只想让你的手揩去我脸上的泪痕 just want to have you wipe away the tear tracks on my face with your hand,

只想让你的体温温暖我冰凉的双手 just want to have the heat of your body gradually warm my ice-cold hands.

不要问我为何今生千里迢迢将你寻觅 Don’t ask me why I’ve traveled so very far to find you in this lifetime.

我没有喝孟婆汤 心中牵挂着你 [7] I did not drink Old Lady Meng’s Soup; in my heart I could not let go of you.

不要问我为何哭泣 Don’t ask me why I cry.

我没有喝孟婆汤 仍记得前世离别时心底的绝望 I did not drink Old Lady Meng’s Soup; I still remember the despair in the deepest depths of my heart in that previous life when we had to part.

说我喜极而泣吧 Let’s just say I’m crying tears of joy, hey.

泪落在你的襟上 The tears land on your collar.

前世的种种哀愁开成一树繁密的丁香 [8] All the various sorrows from that previous lifetime have bloomed into a tree dense with lilac flowers.

我只想与你携手在树下看那一朵开成五瓣向我们预言幸福 I only wish to hold your hand beneath the tree and watch that single blossom unfurl its five petals, foretelling our bliss and happiness.

今生我仍旧频频回望 This lifetime, I still glance back again and again.

今生我仍旧不喝孟婆汤 This lifetime, I still do not drink Old Lady Meng’s Tea.

来世我还会千里迢迢将你寻觅 In the next life, I shall still journey far to find you again.

来世我还会和你手牵手寻找五瓣的丁香 In the next life, hand in hand, we shall look for that five-petaled lilac.

………………………………………………………………………………….

Notes

[1] 佛说：前世的五百次回眸才能换得今生的一次擦肩而过 Buddha said: It takes five hundred backwards glances in a previous life to exchange for one instance of shoulders brushing past this lifetime. Just to be clear, this is not a quote from any of the scriptures. The poet dreamt this up herself. This many many lifetimes to meet once is a beloved trope throughout the ages. Even in Ming dynasty, it was popular - and maybe even further back. See 《增广贤文》 Popular Collection of Traditional Chinese Wise Sayings, Line 191 and 192.

一日夫妻，百世姻缘。百世修来同船渡，千世修来共枕眠。

For personal reference and your MTL needs, some love stories with a Buddhist covering.

[2] 挥别的手帕飘成一朵云  The handkerchief waved in farewell rose, drifting, becoming a cloud plume. Was surprised to read this because waving a handkerchief in farewell seems like a very western thing to do!

[3] 终成一道水痕送我远走  until it becomes a swathe of dampness, sending me off on my journey afar. Literally, 一道水痕 is ‘A [countable noun for flowing water bodies] trace of water’.

[4] 跋山涉水 走进你的眼  over mountains, fording streams, walking into your sight. Where 走进你的眼 is sort of slang these days for ‘being to your taste’, like with a ‘this person is good enough that I’d want to look at them’ sort of vibe.

[5] 我频频回顾着 渴望长相厮守  Again and again, I look back, thirsting for an everlasting companionship. To my surprise,  长相厮守 is not an idiom! No one online seems to know its origins, only pointing to this well known Han Dynasty poem 《上邪》 By the Heavens Above! for its meaning.

[6] 莲叶一片一片 连成我眼中的哀愁 Lotus leaf after lotus leaf join up, up into the despairing sorrow within my eyes.

[7] 我没有喝孟婆汤 心中牵挂着你  I did not drink Old Lady Meng’s Soup; in my heart I could not let go of you. Just a link to this article on Old Lady Meng / Meng Po.

[8] 前世的种种哀愁开成一树繁密的丁香  All the various sorrows from that previous lifetime have bloomed into a tree dense with lilac flowers. Lilacs in poetry are often symbolic of unhappiness and melancholy.

See Li Shangyin’s 《代赠》 A Present Written On Behalf of Another, Part 1.

See Feng Yansi’s 《醉花间·独立阶前星又月》 Drunk Amidst the Flowers · Standing Alone Before the Stairs, Stars and Moon Above

Also, five petaled lilacs are apparently a sign of good luck!

[g-on-ef]

Hey is it possible to ask for Striker being extra protective over 8 month pregnant Blitz?

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Anon 2: Hellos I was hoping you still did prompts because I would Love to see one of Striker being over protective of a heavily pregnant Blitz if possible

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A/N: Since these two prompts are relatively the same I decided to combine them together ^^ hope you guys enjoy it ^^ also sorry for being MIA I wasn't feeling good but today is a good day ^^ my boys got a number 1 on Billboard for a second week ^^

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Month 1

Finding out he was pregnant was the scariest thing to ever happen to him, seriously knowing that there was a new life growing inside him was scaring him shitless, what made it worse was he wasn't sure how to tell the baby's father.

After vomiting out his lunch in his and Striker’s bathroom Blitz began to think what to do next.

It's not like Striker would leave him or anything, he was just scared that he wouldn't want the baby or worse would leave him once he finds out he was pregnant.

It was weird to think like that since he has shown time and time again what an amazing father he is, than again Loona wasn't a little kid nor was she a baby so maybe that's why it was easier for him to be a parent to her than it would be an actual baby.

Blitz leans against the bathroom wall as he thinks about what to do, lying to Striker was out of the question, the man knew Blitz better than anyone and knew when he was lying so there was no point in doing it.

Maybe he could avoid Striker...who was he kidding he could barely go a day without his beloved no way he was gonna be able to go nine months without him.

Blitz curled into a ball and wrapped his tail around himself. No avoiding him won’t work. Maybe he could ease him into letting him know he’s pregnant like letting him know by dropping hints and let him figure it out himself.

"Blitz?"

The city imp jumped a little as he turned to see Striker approach him.

"Loona told me you were, whoa are you okay?" Striker stared at his beloved who was curled in a ball and face was a little paler than it should be.

“Umm...well...you see...” 

Striker approached the city imp he placed his hands on his forehead and checked his temperature.

“You seem a little warmer than usual but nothing a bowl of soup can fix,”

“I’m pregnant!” so much for easing him into the news.

Striker stare at his beloved for a good minute.

The silence was making Blitz a little uncomfortable, he wasn’t sure if this was him trying to find the words to say something sarcastic or him to try and find the words that he didn’t want the baby without upsetting Blitz.

“If...if you don’t want the baby your more than welcome to leave, I won’t stop you,”

That seem to snap Striker out of his trance.

“Not want the-Blitz are you crazy?”

Blitz shrugged his shoulders, Striker just stare at his mate and saw how scared he looked, Striker didn’t blame him, he probably thought Striker didn’t want the baby since he was...silent...

“Oh, shit Blitz,” he grabbed the smaller imp and placed him on his lap Blitz curled himself against Striker as his cowboy began to stroke his cheek.

“Oh baby, I was quiet because I was trying to think of ways to tell you to get rid of the baby I was just quiet because I am shocked that you and I are gonna have a baby,”

Blitz pulled back a little to stare at Striker,

“So...you’re not gonna leave me and our baby?”

“What? Of course not baby,” he held Blitz closer to his body.

“I would never leave you or our misfit family,”

Blitz smiled as he purred and got closer to Striker. Striker stood up and carried Blitz out of the bathroom and into their own bed.

He tucked him and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Get some rest my beautiful, you’ll need it, and you,” he began to rub Blitz small tummy.

“You take it easy on your daddy okay?” Blitz smiled as he watch Striker place a kiss on his tummy, maybe things won’t be so bad.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Month 3

What was Blitz thinking that things wouldn’t be so bad with Striker knowing he was pregnant. 

Seriously Blitz was just 3-months pregnant and Striker baby proof not only their apartment but his office.

There were times he couldn’t find the stapler and whenever he asked Striker he would take the papers and stable them himself.

Blitz was still looking for the damn thing.

He was worse with Moxxie, the poor assassin came rushing in with a pair of scissors and Striker respond with a punch to the face.

He gave the cowboy an earful for that and made him sleep on the couch.

Striker wouldn’t let him do any heavy lifting and while Blitz love being pampered Striker was taking it to far.

He can still lift a stack of papers.

“Ugh, your not even born yet and daddy dearest is already protective of you,”

“SIR!” and there goes Moxxie no doubt being thrown around because he was carrying a glass of soda...again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Month six

He was gonna kill Striker, no seriously he was gonna kill him. Loona and Nathan (he’s still surprised that the little imp agreed to join their family with no questions asked) ate all the chips, cookies, and other sugary sweets and process food there was in the kitchen.

“Where the fuck are all my chocolate?!”

“Dad told us we can eat them,” Nathan asked as he munch on some nachos.

“Why the fuck did he do that?!”

“It’s not good for the baby,” Loona said as she finished the last of the soda.

He glared at his two teenage children, the two tagged team with Striker to make sure that no harm came to Blitz or the baby.

Honestly he was beginning to think his family of three where just using the “we are protecting you” excuse to hurt anyone that came near him.

He was still apologizing to Charlie for Loona shooting at her when she was coming to congratulate her brother and was excited for being an aunt.

Not to mention he owed Angel Dust some whisky after Nathan caught him in a trap.

“You didn’t have to eat all of my snacks he whined.

Loona passed him a box of sliced apples and strawberries.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Food that will be good for you and the baby,”

Blitz groan, he was killing Striker when he got back. 

“Hey Blitz-”

Striker felt pain in his groin, he kneeled down and watched as Blitz walked away from him.

“He’s still pissed about his diet?”

His kids nodded their heads as they kept eating Blitz’s junk food.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Striker maybe protective but he was so sweet like now how he was rubbing his tummy and singing to his tummy,

Moonchild you shine When you rise, it's your time C'mon yo Moonchild don't cry When moon rise, it's your time C'mon yo Moonchild you shine When moon rise, it's your time C'mon yo

Blitz always loved Striker’s voice and hearing it sing to their baby was the best thing for him especially when their little one always calmed down when they heard their daddy’s singing voice.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Month 8

Blitz held onto his children, someone was in their home, an overlord...and not just any overlord, Valentino, the moth pimp was still pissed at him for refusing to kill an innocent child all because Vox dumped his ass.

He, Loona, and Nathan were hiding in the closet as Val and his men destroyed his house, he prayed that Striker would return soon from the human world.

The door to the closet opened and Val stood there with a wide grin.

“Found you,”

He brought Nathan and Loona closer to his body while both teenagers wrapped their arms around Blitz’s stomach in an attempt to protect his belly.

“You know Blitz you shouldn’t have refused me, if you didn’t maybe your sweet family wouldn’t be harm.

His eyes landed on Loona,

“Oh yes, your little hellhound would make a fine addition to my collection,” Loona growled as Blitz held her closer.

Val’s eyes landed on Nathan,

“The little imp boy and the thing inside you will definitely serve my clients really well,” Nathan whimpered as Blitz growled at him.

“Touch my kids and I’ll kill you,”

Val laughed.

“You? Kill me? now how could you possibly do that?”

A loud bang could be heard in the house making the family sigh in relief.

“What the fuck?” 

Before Val could turn around Striker began to stab him with a holy blade.

The moth demon howl in pain as the knife was stabbed inside of him repeatedly Striker stabbed the moth multiple times, he didn’t stop, not until he was certain the moth was dead.

Once he saw that the demon was reduce to ash he turned to his family.

Opening his arms his children and Blitz ran to him. He wrapped his arms and tail around them, thanking La Santa Muerte that his family was okay and nothing bad happened to them.

He checked them all one by one stroking their faces, checking to see if there was a scratch on them or not hugging them close to his body.

He rubbed Blitz’s tummy and bend down to kiss it.

“Are you okay Blitz?”

“Yeah, we’re fine, don’t worry about us,”

Striker just hugged his family Blitz purred and was thankful that Striker came to save them than again, he knew Striker and knew that his mate would always be there to protect him, their teenage children, and their unborn baby.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

A/N: So what do you guys think? remember if you have any Striker and Blitz Prompts send them my way ^^ I will be posting more as week goes by ^^ GoNEF out ^^ and remember Armys to stream butter !!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~    

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 2: Hei Mao

A Miraculous Fan-fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

Adrien went about his day grocery shopping and stocking his new home with personalized essentials. Something to make it more him and not as much Amelie, bless her heart fro trying. It had been nice having a mother even if it wasn’t his mother. Emelie remained in a coma in London. He had visited her everyday. It felt like he had finally healed from her loss only to have the wound ripped open again. The ache still seeped from his being as a dark shadow hung over him. Not only did he have to hide from the identity his father created for him, but also the bad publicity his father created as well. 

With groceries put away, and Plagg fed, Adrien set about finally unpacking his bags. He could hear the television turn on as Plagg scrolled through channels. News reports still talking about the capture of Hawk Moth even though it’s been two years. A report came on their air and he recognied Feliz’s voice. He hung his shirt and went downstairs to see. 

“I have been given full authority over the former Agreste Brand and we will be revitalizing this brand starting…” he stopped talking to the microphone at the podium to turn around. He was standing in front of the Agrest Building that Gabriel had built. Felix raised his hand as the blind covering the company name was removed and exposed the new name. 

“Graham De Vanily” 

“In honor of our beloved Emelie Graham De Vanily who was so terribly stolen away from us by the heinous villain Hawk Moth.” Felix’s fist clenched near his chest as he closed his eyes for a moment. Adrien was hurt hearing the words but Felix’s scheme was working. The crowd cheered. No one really knew exactly what happened to Adrien’s mother, but making her the face of this company’s new facelift, making her the victim in all of it, took the public's eye off of Adrien and showed the company’s sympathy for the victims rather than the villain. 

Camera flashed as Felix reopened his eyes. Reporters pushing forward with their demanding questions and microphones ready to accept his answers. 

“What about Adrien Agreste?”

“I’m sorry there is no Adrien Agreste.” Felix said sharply. It was what Adrien had asked him to do. 

“Then who was the model Gabriel used?” This was the part that Adrien knew Felix could handle. He watched as Felix threw on his best Adrien smile and scruffed his hair into the shaggy mane that was Adrien’s trade hair style. He was good. Adrien missed the antics of their childhood with his twin of a cousin. Adrien snorted a laugh then shook his head returning to his chores. 

“Is it dinner time yet?” Plagg complained. Adrien returned to the seating area. Plagg was still seated on his favorite armchair with a lump of cheese. It wasn’t Camembert but it seemed to satiate him enough. 

“You're right.” he smiled realizing how quickly the day went by. “Let’s go.” Adrien walked to the front door. Looking back at Plagg wondering why the little guy wasn’t moving. Plagg stared at him stupidly.

“You're not planning on taking the metro again,” Plagg complained. “When we can take the quicker route.”

“It’s still light outside, I can’t risk Cat Noir being seen by the public.” 

“He was seen last night by those guys?” 

“But who is going to believe a bunch of criminals?” Adrien realized he would have to think of something to maintain his own cover of darkness.

“But you're not even Cat Noir anymore.” Plagg reminded him. “Just change the appearance of your suit.”

“Wait,” Adrien walked back into the seating area. “I can do that?” 

“Kind of,” Plagg explained. “You will still be dressed in black, but you could… add a hoodie to cover your sunshine blond hair.” Plagg flew up and looked Adrien over. His tiny hand on his chin. “Maybe you could check out Marinettes’ website for some thoughts.” 

“But when I transform it automatically puts this design on me.” Adrien was confused. 

“It’s too basic,” Plagg complained. “Shadow Moth never wore a dress I can assure you but Mayura did. Polymouse looked nothing like Multimouse, and let’s face it, Luka was a way better holder for Sass than you.” Plagg was still sore about that one. Adrien thought about it. Sure a hoodie would help, but he didn’t want people to know there was A BLACK CAT superhero in Shanghai. 

“I’ll think about it. For now, we take the Metro.” He grabbed his coat and key then opened the door. 

Adrien got off the bus at the same stop as last night and went into the same store. This time he would grab something at random then head to the restaurant. He could smell something amazing coming from the restaurant down the street and it made him think of a seafood dish he had the last time they visited. Adrien found the seafood tanks in the back of the market and picked out 4 hairy crabs. 

“Cheng Sifu, I am here,” Adrien said as he entered the kitchen. He handed the bag with the four live crabs in it to Cheng. His eyes widened in excitement as if he had hoped for this.

“This is a very fortunate fateful food, Adrien.” He dropped the four crabs into the already boiling pot. “I started this broth earlier for another crab dish but these are much fatter and tastier.” Cheng proceeded to show Adrien how to prepare the broth and they worked quickly as the crab's shells turned bright red before they used a wire scoop to lift them from the pot. Cheng strained the broth from the pot setting it aside as they rinsed the crab in ice-cold water so they could deshell them. Cheng flung droplets of water from his fingers as he worked so quickly. Splattering Adrien on the face. Adrien laughed like a little kid seeing the playful grin on Sifu's face. 

“I give you Adrien Soup.” Cheng set a bowl down in front of Adrien. 

“De Vanily Soup.” Adrien corrected him. The steam rolled off the bowl as chunks of crab bobbed in the bowl. The red broth with vegetables floating sent an aroma into Adrien's face. He was proud to be able to know how to make this. Cheng played the accordion as Adrien scooped the soup into his mouth. He lost himself somewhere in the memory as he looked to his side smiling expecting to see Marinette laughing at her uncle. She wasn’t there. The smile drained from Adrien’s face as he looked back at Cheng. 

“We could call her.” Cheng set the accordion down then took a seat across from Adrien. He let his face fall back to his bowl as he continued to eat trying to regain his composure. He felt the burning in his eyes as the tears tried to well up but he swallowed them down with another bite of soup. 

“Best not.” He said then looked at his watch. “You know, the time difference.” He shrugged then lifted his empty bowl. They returned to the kitchen to clean up but the kitchen staff took his bowl and there was nothing more to do. “See you tomorrow Cheng Sifu.” Adrien gave him a quick wave then headed for the alleyway. It was very dark now as clouds were rolling in. Adrien thought about what Plagg had said earlier and imagined what his suit would look like with a hood. 

“Plagg claws out.” He said. Sure enough, as his suit covered his body from toe to head, a leather hood sprouted off the neck covering his head, his cat ears protruded from the top. It came down far enough over his eyes that while he could still see, it would make seeing his face that much harder. It was much different from the suit he wore as Aspik which completely covered his head, this one instead felt more modern and airy. He made his way back to Chao. 

“It will rain tonight, Xuesheng,” Chao said as Mao landed on the ground before him. “We will start with a few small lessons, but you will need to rest your Kwami.” Mao had to take a minute to take in what Chao had said.

“Rest my…” his breath caught in his lungs. “Kwami?” 

“You think me a fool? That I do not know what powers your ability.” Chao turned and headed into a side room of the temple. Mao followed him. There were many drawings on the walls, various characters that depicted magical beings. “Many believe them to be folklore. And to those who are not trained, they are.” Adrien sees a black cat adorned character from an ancient Chinese battle. “Many are taught here and sent to the guardian temple to become guardians. I was one of them.” Chao said.  

“You were a guardian?” Mao asked. 

“I was there when the temple was gobbled up by a sentimonster.” Chao turned to look at him. “It was you, and your partner that defeated it, and restored the temple.” 

Mao was shocked as he stood before his Sifu. Chao turned and walked deeper into the temple down a flight of stone stairs to a large room filled with various weaponry, sparring dummies and in the middle of the room a large sparring mat. Mirror lined the four walls surrounding the mat. The torch-style electric lighting illuminated the room in an orange glow. There was a small table in the corner with a plate of cheese and crackers.

“I assume Plagg still eats human-sized portions of cheese?” Chao asked. Mao chuckled. He was still nervous at the prospect of exposing his identity to anyone but Master Fu. “I assure you, it is safe here.” 

“Claws in.” He whispered. Plagg zipped out. His eyes exposing his shock as he found himself in a strange place. Until his eyes fell on the Sifu.

“Chao Sifu?” Plagg asked in surprise. He flew up to the old man gripping his face in his tiny hands. Chao chuckled at the action, bringing his hands to cup the Kwami.

“You seem… friendly.” Adrien felt a bit jealous as he watched his best friend warm up to a stranger.

“Plagg and I encountered much mischief.” He stared at the Kwami now sitting in his hands. “I was but a child when I went to the temple. I felt caged in. I did not want to be there.” he set Plagg down by the plate then brought his hands back together in front of himself. “Sometimes at night, Plagg and I would escape the temple and bound free through the mountains.” Adrien's jaw dropped as he heard the Sifu talk about his rebellious side. 

“Sounds like someone I know,” Adrien said acting innocent. 

“Cat Noir had plenty of freedom, while Adrien was locked in the best bedroom any teenage boy could want.” Plagg scoffed as he gobbled some cheese. 

“Oh, is that so?” Chao asked. 

“It’s a long story.” Adrien swung his arms in anticipation of his first lesson. 

“We shall start with some basic steps.” Chao led him to the center of the sparring mat after they kicked off their shoes. 

Adrien hurt so bad as he rolled out of bed the next morning. Not sure if he would be able to move. In the bathroom, he stripped out of his pajamas tossing them on the floor. He caught sight of his body in the ever-present mirrors that encircled the room. The main thing he hated about the bathroom. He was his own constant reminder of his father. 

“Hmm…” he mused in the mirror. “At least now I know what father would have looked like after taking a beating.” he chuckled. Plagg droned on something about being awake so early and not having anywhere to go. 

After soaking in the steaming hot jet stream tub Adrien sat on the couch with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He had to lower the eclectic blinds on the windows to prevent possible sighting of the mysterious floating creature even though they were up high enough that it was most likely not a concern. 

He opened his laptop and began searching through design pages looking for ideas for his Hei Mao suit. 

“Nothing,” Adrien said frustrated after a while. 

“What about Marinette. She could design something for you.” Plagg offered. Adrien shook his head, he wanted nothing more than to wear a Marinette design again. 

“I can’t talk to her Plagg.” Adrien groaned. 

“But Felix can, and if I remember right he is the CEO of a fashion company am I right?” Plagg was on to something. He picked up his cell phone and dialed up his cousin.

“Adrien to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” He sounded upset. 

“What is it, Felix?” Adrien’s question could wait. 

“I just got out of a meeting with public relations and they’re screaming for something to boost the community morale.” Adrien smiled. This was purrfect he thought.

“I think I can solve your problem and you can solve mine.” Adrien started. “Initiate a community-wide design competition. The theme is aged-up versions of Ladybug and Cat Noir in more… fitting attire.”

“It’s a competition?” Felix asked. “What would the reward be?” 

“How about the winner gets to spend an entire day or week as a Graham De Vanily designer and their design is featured in the catalog, as say a costume.” Adrien grinned. “I’ll be the final judge, a silent Judge.”

“How,” Felix started, his voice sounding confused. “Does this benefit you?” 

“Remember that girl, Marinette?” Adrien asked him. 

“How could I forget,” Felix remember the beautiful girl from the video sent to Adrien.

“She’s a designer and well, I really want a costume designed by her.” Adrien wasn’t entirely lying. 

“Let me guess, you want the Ladybug costume.” Felix scoffed. 

“Exactly, well one of each. But the winner will be the one who designs the best of each costume, it’s a two for the win.” Adrien’s face beamed and he was glad that Plagg was the only one who could see it. 

“I’ll put the word out,” Felix said coldly before hanging up the phone. 

It had been nearly a month since the announcement for the costume design went out. He watched Marinette’s webpage and even found Alya’s blog. They definitely knew about it and even commented that Marinette would be entering her designs in as well. Adrien was so excited. His body was getting more accustomed to the beatings dished out by Chao Sifu, and his cooking skills got better with Cheng Sifu. During the day he often went past the temple to watch Chao Sifu teaching classes to groups of younger kids. They seemed to be far too young to learn martial arts but he was also forced to participate in far more activities by the time he was their age. 

He spoke a number of different languages and played the piano. Adrien hadn’t touched one since he left his in his old bedroom. Felix said he wanted to move into the Agreste manor but felt uncomfortable with that idea given the current state of the public opinion regarding it. So he agreed to ensure the mansion was being maintained for when Adrien was ready to return to it. 

Adrien felt a little stalkerish as he checked Marinette’s social media accounts daily, followed Alya’s blog, and even yes. The Lady blog. Marinette got more beautiful as she grew up. He had been watching his friends from afar. Nino seemed to be doing good. He even found Luka’s page. He wondered why Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything on her pages about her boyfriend or husband. Luka seemed happily married as he bragged about various things his twins were doing, never posting pictures of them though, or his wife. 

Something tugged at Adrien’s heart as he scrolled through her pages. Juleka now served as her primary female model for her designs and even Luka joined in on occasion. He used to be Marinette’s model. As the contest date closed in, Adrien had to fight the urge to return to Paris for it. He wanted to be there, to witness Marinette winning. He knew her designs were going to be the winners. The days dredged by as Adrien maintained his covert agenda. His evening meals with Cheng Sifu, and his training with Chao Sifu. Two people that maintained his secrets. Even the grocery clerk aided him in his endeavors as she would help him pick out his fateful food items each day. 

“So, are you planning on being here for the judging?” Felix asked. 

“You know I can’t.” Adrien felt like his father, he had always had Nathalie walk around with the tablet showing him each of the designs. He didn’t even want to be that present. 

“I have an idea,” Felix said. “I’ll call you right back.” A few minutes passed when Adrien’s phone chimed on his duo to pick up a video call. He saw Felix standing in a mirror wearing a pair of clear lens glasses. The image was coming from a micro camera in the frames. “This way, You can hear and see everything and no one will be the wiser.” 

“How, can you hear me?” he asked. Felix reached up to the earpieces over both ears. 

“The speakers are her like with earbuds only they don’t go in the ear. I can’t see you though unless I look at my phone.”

“This is purrfect.” Adrien beamed. He saw his cousin groan dropping his shoulders.

“Did you just make a cat pun?”

“Yep.”

“Are you blushing?”

“Pawsibly.” 

“You’re encourageable.” Felix turned away from the mirror. He was in his suit at the Bourgeois Hotel. It was just like the one Chloe used to live in. 

“I know.” Adrien fought back the urge to say something cattish. 

“Goodbye, Adrien.” Despite his cold tone, Felix really did seem to enjoy their dynamics. He was the straight-laced one and Adrien, fun and playful. 

“Could you imagine Plagg?” Adrien slumped back in his chair. “If Felix was given this miraculous,” he said holding up his hand. A look of terror crossed Plagg’s face as if he was threatened to never be given cheese again. Adrien laughed. 

It was the day of the competition and Adrien watched as Felix straightened his tie. A chill running down his spine as he recalled how his father used to do it. Felix really was the younger version of his father. Sometimes he forgot that they had different fathers. Even though he looked nothing like his father, rather they both looked like Gabriel and Amelie. 

Adrien shook the feeling off his shoulders as he watched his cousin leave the bathroom. The venue was set up at the Graham De Vanily building in the showroom. There were tons of people scattered about the room with various changing stalls set up using temporary wall structures. Felix walked through the halls slowly inspecting each station. Two models to each one in a Cat Noir suit, the other in a Ladybug suit. The gender specification had been an explicit requirement for the event. 

Felix stopped by each inspecting the details and scoffed moving on to the next. Most of them were near replicas of the original suits. 

“Is there just one person here who didn’t copy the original design?” Felix fumed. 

“There,” Adrien said through the screen. He had to mirror his phone to the TV so he could get a better look at everything. His heart dropped when he recognized the old familiar midnight hair. It was no longer pulled into two down ponytails, instead, it was long and flowing. There was a bit of curl to it as it swayed back and forth with her movements. She was preparing her model already in costume. “I hope she’s not married,” he said before he realized his cousin could hear everything. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix said stepping up behind her. “What have you got for us this time.” He at least sounded pleasant. She spun around to face him. Adrien watched her face as it lit up in a bright red hue. 

“A..A... Adrien?” Adrien could feel heat welling up in her heart even though she was, once again mistaking Felix for him. The fact that she was still thinking about him and tripping over her words at the thought she was in his presence made him wish he had gone. 

“Felix, actually.” he took both of her hands in his looking down at them as he placed a kiss on each knuckle. “Adrien was a fool for letting a gem such as yourself slip through his fingers. Adrien fumed as his cousins’ obvious attempt to annoy him. Marinette’s cheeks returned to their normal hue as her face melted into sadness. Adrien’s heart broke for a minute. 

“Do you need a tissue, Adrien?” Plagg asked. Adrien ignored him so as to not expose him to Felix who could hear everything except the Kwami. 

“Show us what you have made for us.” Felix said. No one knew he was televising this for Adrien. Marinette explained in detail the design of this new Lady Noir Suit. It wasn’t all red as Ladybugs had been instead there was more black around the waist with a light red tulle skirting around the waist allowing for movement while offering a bit more coverage to the more sensitive areas. Another Tulle adornment lay over the breasts. 

“Exquisite Marinette,” Felix said.

“Ask about the signature stitching.” Adrien chimed in quickly. He was nearly biting at the bit as he watched his cousin explore every detail of the suit.

“Ah-hem. Um, show me your signature stitching.” He looked up at Marinette who suddenly blushed.

“How do you know about that?” Marinette shrieked. 

“Tell her Gabriel had made reference to it after other designs she had done.” Adrien threw in.

“I am the CEO of a fashion company, it is my job to know about that,” Felix smirked. Marinette pulled out another suit, it was designed for a man but she held up the collar piece showing the distinct gold embossed threading signing her name through the stitch. 

“You did that with each of these designs?” he mused then moved on to the Cat Noir suit. Adrien swallowed hard when he saw Luka wearing the Cat Noir Suit. He almost didn’t recognize him with the hood pulled nearly over his face. The Ears protruding through the hood even seemed to have a little fluff to them. The hood flowed down the back with fine red lines detailing the changes in the material. The extra padding around the soft spots was highly more with the deep red. Felix walked around Luka slowly inspecting every detain including the attached belt that held a baton. The extra-long belt that also served as Cat’s tail dangled down to the floor. Adrien wondered if his belt was actually longer now than it was when he was a teenager, he was much taller now. “Why is this red and not Neon green as his ring?” 

“This design is meant more for stealth. The red.” Marinette blushed. 

“Ah, she’s so cute.” Adrien didn’t mean to say that out loud. Felix snorted. 

“Who is Cat Noir without his Ladybug?” she finished. “I added more black to her’s to signify him on her so I thought I’d give him a piece of her.” Adrien felt warm at the thought. “As for the hood, Cat Noir has such bright hair, so this would provide him more stealth.” She scooped up the tail belt holding the end out for Felix to inspect. In fine detail along the edge of the belt was the customary Marinette signature. 

“Very good Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix again took her hands. He flipped them over and even rubbed his fingers along the back of her hands. “Lovely, sure you didn’t make these by hands these hands are far too nice to have labored so.” Ooh, that smooth talker. Adrien was standing now anger fumed on his face. Felix turned away and began walking to another stall. 

“Wait.” Marinette’s voice was small through the receiver. Felix turned around. Luka was holding her shoulders as she stood in front of him face Felix. She nearly shook as Adrien swore he saw a teardrop from her chin. “Can you tell him, if you see him…”

“What that you love him? I saw that video message you sent him. Was that your attempt to confess your feelings or just console a friend.” Felix seemed a bit harsh but Adrien bit back his words wondering what it was Marinette had said in the video.

“Tell him we miss him.” Ah there it was the fire in her eyes she was angry. “We miss our friend.” She turned away from Felix in a huff. Felix laughed.

“What are you doing Felix?” Adrien barked.

“Congratulations Marinette, I think you might just be our winner.” He scoffed then turned around. 

“I just had to see her fire up, oh Adrien,” Felix whispered. “I can see why she means so much to you.” Felix tapped a button on his phone and disconnected the call. Adrien had recorded the entire video call. He replayed the video showing Cat Noir’s suit. He memorized every detail. Mulling it over in his head before setting his phone down and calling on his transformation. 

He ran to the bathroom to examine his new suit. Every detail mimicked Marinette’s design. He suddenly realized and reached for his belt tail. It was longer. He studied the red stitching design and found it. Her signature was embedded into the magic suit he now wore. 

[beneath-the-continents]

Maybe I wanna know everything 🙄😤 tell me about Dia then

Dia my beloved <3

Dian cultures are somewhat mysterious to most outsiders. Although the country is generally quite warm and lush, because of their geography, surrounded by a nearly impassible mountain range on its western side and an ocean to its east, the interior of the country is rarely visited by outsiders. Its main point of contact with the outside world is its largest city, Hila, which is situated in a wide valley of its mountain range along the coast, where traders from the east come over land and from the west by boat. Here Dia’s three main peoples and their traditions mix with those of outside countries, but the influence of this foreign trade is relatively limited outside the city. The city has architectural elements of all three cultures, including cave dwellings along its cliffs and many narrow streets of low, rounded houses that bleed into the surrounding forests, as well as rafts and foreign trading ships docked within the bay.

Dia’s three peoples are separated by geography as well, into mountain-dwellers, forest-dwellers, and coast dwellers. These people consider each other to be cousins, and will typically refer to each other as such. Although mingling between groups is relatively limited, they do trade with each other for everything from necessities to highly valuable items, and friendships and marriages between groups are not uncommon. The mountain dwellers subsist primarily on two forms of agriculture, growing hardy plants and keeping small animals on specially engineered terraces on the mountain sides, and keeping honey moths in large hives within caves, which are sacred to their people. They also dwell in complex cove dwellings, which according to their own legends the designs of which they learned by watching the moths build their hives. They also raise large dogs to guard their fields and hives, which have a second set of eyes which they use for night vision (this second set sees Infrared light). Of the three cultures, they are the most secretive, and control who enters their mountains by the few maintained routes carefully – visitors to the mountains must leave a small gift upon entering, to signal their good will. The forest dwellers have cultivated their forests to produce ample amounts of fruit and nuts, and hunt small birds and rodents as well, mainly during their dry seasons. They live in somewhat conical dwellings reminiscent of the shape of beehives, a distant connection to their mountain dwelling cousins, sometimes built out from the bases of large trees. When they marry, the couple will plant a tree to symbolize what they wish to grow in their union, with different trees symbolizing different things. Coast dwellers live most of the year on large rafts that they have built and float within coves along the coast, fishing for most of their food, and withdrawing to cliff-side dwellings during stormy weather. They are more open and friendly than their cousins, since sometimes lost vessels will wash up on their shores, who they will typically care for and help to return to their own homes once they’ve recovered.

These three peoples have their ancestral meeting place where the city of Hila has now grown up around, and in the fall season, after harvest, many will still travel to Hila for its annual harvest festival, where they exchange things they will need during the coming winter, and celebrate with one another for many days. During this festival, a special soup using ingredients from each of the three cultures is often made, and paper lanterns in the shape of fruits are hung throughout the cities narrow street corridors, and it is common for many weddings to take place, so visitors from out of town can all celebrate together. The city’s second main festival is known as the festival of the sweet-toothed man, and takes place in the spring, when traders from the mountains arrive with the remainder of last seasons honey, signalling the start of the new year and the coming of spring. Children will dress as these traders in moth keepers clothes and parade through the streets, and many sweets are made with honey and wax candles lit and placed on window sills.

Dia has no established currency, mainly trading with one another for the things that they need, or when someone has nothing to trade, usually they will simply be cared for by those around them, because they consider one another to be family, and trust everyone to contribute what they can and take no more than they need. When dealing with foreign traders, sometimes gold and silver will be used as stand ins for things the citizens of Hila really want, because they know they can use them to acquire goods from other traders, but they hold little value to Dian people themselves, outside being used to ornamentation. Dia also has no centralized government, but usually conflicts between people are simply debated between those involved until a solution that each party is satisfied with can be found. If outside help is needed to resolve a conflict, usually village elders will be asked for their opinion and assistance, since their experience and knowledge is highly valued to the Dian people.

[heirsofdiscord]

                 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒚 ♦ Moth’ir Karga

DEITY OF: Mischief & Misfortune; Patron of the Unlucky and Lost

ASSOCIATED WITH: Harvest Moons, Liminal Spaces, Pixies, Star-Crossed Lovers, Quiet Nights, Rogues, Dry Thunderstorms, Cycles of Unintentional Self Sabotage, Lost Things

SACRED PLANTS: Wilted Flowers, Thorned Plants, Weeds, Moss, Trees struck by Lightning

SACRED STONES/GEMS: Cinnabar, Jasper, Obsidian, Fossils

SACRED ANIMALS: Corvidae, Black Cats, Moths, and, to a lesser extent; Rodents

COLORS: Red, White, Black

FOOD: Spicy Foods-especially Soups and Seafood

SCENTS: Ozone, Charcoal

ACCEPTED OFFERINGS: Precious Things Forever Lost, Beloved Meals Spoiled, Illness Without Cure, Loved Ones Passed, Feelings Unspoken, Broken Hearts, Homes Ruined by Disaster, Favored Stories and Songs Forgotten, and so on and so forth

A god whose favor cannot truly be bought. Thought to be a bringer of misery due to his appearance whenever things go awry. A fact which is only true so he might visit a measure of protection equal to the suffering that drew him in. He is fond of playful trickery but true malice is normally reserved as retribution for his charges for whom protection isn’t enough or rendered redundant by circumstance.

Those who he finds truly unforgivable or claim to be turning over a new leaf can be visited by his trial; One Very Bad Day. Failure means a lifetime of misery but those who prevail are privy to the rare miracle. The chances of someone undeserving receiving such a boon is next to none as the god is not above unfairly stacking the deck to the extent that prevailing anyway is a miracle in itself.

tagged by: stole it from @windupnamazu (I hope that’s okay!) tagging: I’d tag someone but I think everyone who wasn’t tagged has removed themselves from tumblr for good so uuuuh [finger guns]

[renee-writer]

Pride and Prejudice Outlander Chapter 6 A Failed Courtship

Mary and Tom welcome her into their home. It is a very nice little personage. It was made more so when Mary lead her to the parlor and shut the door.

“Tom seldom comes in here, “ she explains as she pours tea. “It is my own personal space.”

Claire smiles at her. Despite her fears, her friend seems happy and content in her marriage.

“It is nice to have run of my own house.” Mary is saying when Tom comes to the parlor's window, startling us both.

“Grand news Mrs. Christie and cousin Claire. We have been invited to visit with Duchess Leticia at Castle Leoch.”

“Don't fret Claire about what to wear. Just wear the best you have brought.” Mary says.

Castle Leoch is an imposing structure. Tom spends the journey up to it informing Claire and Mary on it's history. Claire is soon bored with his talk of the Raising and the aftermath. After all, the kilts, tarden, and Gaelic are all back.

He leads them in and they are introduced to the Duchess Leticia and her daughter, Leery.

“My cousin, Claire Anderson.” She curtsies and as she comes up, she meets the extraordinary blue eyes that still haunt her dreams. She manages to keep her composer.

“Miss Anderson, you know my nephew then?”

“Yes ma’am. We meet in Aberfoyle.”

“Miss Anderson, may I introduce my mate, Ian Murray. Ian, Miss Claire Anderson.”

“It is nice to meet you Miss Anderson.”

‘Mrs. Christie your husband tells me you play the piano but do not have one in your home.”

“Yes ma’am. That is true.”

“You are welcome to come play at the servants quarters. There is one there. You will not disturb anyone there. My Leery would have made an excellent pianist if she weren't do sickly. Do you play Miss Anderson?”

“Only poorly, I am afraid.”

“Well, as in all things, it is only improved by practice. Play some for us.”

“No truly, I am afraid I am not at all good.”

“The duchess insist, cousin.” Tom urges her over to the piano bench. With a deep sigh, she starts to play. She sees Mr. Fraser approach.

“If you came over here to intimidate me sir, I fear you have wasted your time. I do not intimate easily.”

“No. You don’t and I would never try thus.” He replies with a half smile. His mate joins him.

“So tell me Miss Anderson, how did you find Jamie in Aberfoyle?”

“Prepare yourself, my good sir. He refused to dance, when first we meet. Leaving many a lady without a partner.”

Ian laughed before moving off at the Duchess summons. Jamie stays cup moving a bit closer.

“Miss Anderson, I find it hard to make small talk with strangers.” He confesses.

“Well then sir, I would suggest what your aunt did. Practice.”

Supper found her sitting between him and Mary. The soup was excellent but she can barely get a spoonful in with all of the Duchess' questions.

“So, you have four other sisters?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“None yet married?”

“No ma'am.”

“But all out in society. That is unheard of.”

A quick taste of the soup before answering her. “Yes ma'am. My parents do not believe it fair to hold the younger ones hostage to our older ones matrimony. It would not be fair for them to sit at home while we wait for husband. That it would not encourage sisterly affections.” She takes several more sips as she digest her answer.

“Your governess? Surely she has an opinion of such goings on?”

“No ma'am as we never had one.”

“No governess and five daughters. Unheard of. Your mam must have been a slave to your education.”

“Not at all ma'am.” She shakes her head, her own soup barely touched as Claire quickly finishes hers. Beside her, Jamie flushes with pride. He had never heard his aunt spoke to thus. Claire was a rare woman, not at all meek of obedient.

The next day finds her in her cousin's rectory. He is not a very good preacher and she finds herself struggling to stay awake. She is seated beside Ian and engages him in whispered conversation.

“How long will you be in town then?”

“That will be up the Jamie. I am quite at his disposal.”

“Seems at lot of people are. He needs a wife that will follow him everywhere.”

“A lucky lass she would be.”

“Truly?”

“Oh aye. Jamie is a bonny companion and a loyal friend. Why he just recently saved a friend from an ill advised marriage.”

Claire, no dummy, quickly put it all together. “Who and how? What was it about the lass he disapproved of? Was it her lack of money?”

“No. It was his best mate, Lord John Gray. It was the lasses family he found displeasure in, I believe.”

She sits beside him through the rest of the service casting the evil eye on Jamie, sitting behind and to the side of them. As soon as she can, she escapes the stuffy confines of the rectory, and unmindful of the typical Scottish rain, runs out and away. Soaked, she finds shelter under a eave of one of the buildings on the property. That is when he approached. Mr. Fraser.

He is equally sodden, his red curls molded to his head. He walks up to her and bows. “Miss Anderson.”

“Mr. Fraser.” She curtsies and waits to hear what he has to say.

“This last few months I have been in a desperate fight with myself and my own common sense. I find myself unable to deny my feelings for you despite your unsuitable family. I thought I would fall for someone of my own social class. But, I love love love you Claire. You are who my heart yearns for. I can no longer fight it.”

She stares at him. Is he serious? This man who's eyes haunt her dreams is also the same man who ruined her sister's happiness. Not to mention what he did to poor Mr. Randall.

“I am sorry I have caused you pain. It was never my intention.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No.”

“Rejecting me then.”

“I am quite sure that the same issues that caused you to fight against your feelings will help you to get over them.”

“Claire, what have I done to earn such derision?”

“Besides calling my family, unsuitable. Well, there is the matter of ruining a beloved sister's chance at happiness. Do you deny it sir?”

“No. No I don't. I watched carefully you see. I saw that he cared more for her then she did him.”

“You are wrong sir. She loves him. She is quite shy. It is hard for her to show her true feelings, even to me. And what of Lt. Randall?”

“What of him?”

“You left his destitute.”

“You believe such!”

“I believe, no I know sir that a man, such as yourself, would be the last person I would choose to be married to.”

He takes a step closer. His eyes travel over her face and stop at her lips. The urge to kiss her is strong. Her passion, even in the form of misplaced anger, draws him to her like a moth to a flame. But, he will not take what is not freely given. They both take several deep breathes.

“Aye, then I will not trouble you farther. Good day Miss Anderson.” He takes a step back, bows and turns and walks away.

Her heart is thumping like a drum as she leans against the pillar behind her. She is drawn to him even as she wishes to loath him.

Later that day, standing in the deepen shadows of the Christie’s kitchen, he comes up behind her and lays a letter on the counter in front of her. “I didn’t wish to trouble you. I just wish to answer the charges you brought against me.” He says. When she finds the will to turn around, he is gone, already riding away. She picks up the latter with shaking hands.

“Miss Anderson,

I will not repeat my stated feelings for you. But, I do wish to address the two charges you brought against me.

First, in the matter of Mr. Randall. My father did love the lad as another son. That is why he left him a living. The lad, averse to work, asked for the worth of such at my father's passing. It was given to him. He promptly gambled it away. He returned, a year later, asking for more. I refused him. He then set his sights on my baby sister. She is set to inherit 30,000 pounds. He set out to court her until I informed him that he would get naught from her. He left her heartbroken. She is but fifteen.

As for your sister and John, I did as I did to spare a friend. I was unaware of the lasses true feelings. I am sorry.

Yours

James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.”

She read the letter through tear filled eyes. Mary finds her and inquires of her welfare.

“Are you alright Claire?”

“I am not sure.”

She returns home the next day.

[zamancollective]

The Constructive Agony of Talking Politics at Shabbat (Or How to Survive a Debate with Your Relatives) 

By Gabriella Kamran  

Illustration by Sophie Levy

I wasn’t yet 20 years old and I had already forgotten what it felt like to join my relatives for Shabbat dinner and eat brisket without a side of political commentary. Was that a new phenomenon? Was I too busy spitting tomatoes into napkins as a child that I didn’t notice the moral axioms being thrown above my head? Regardless, charged conversation after charged conversation gradually emerged from background noise while I chewed to a dynamic that captured my interest and charted the course of my intellectual development. 

It seems accurate to say that I entered the fray around the same time I started buying my own clothes. These were the early teenage years: I was testing the waters of feminism, experimenting with political Facebook posts, and learning that not everything I believe to be true is, in fact, the truth. Every young person has a moment of realization that adults can sometimes be profoundly wrong. Mine took place gradually over a series of weekly dinners, as my male relatives argued and I felt an arsenal of my own opinions weighing in my chest. 

I will say with no qualifiers that it is difficult for a fourteen-year-old girl to wedge herself into a conversation with several adult men. First, there is the issue of a quiet voice, not yet amplified by the support of social affirmation. Then there is the matter of being taken seriously — that is, the unspoken surprise that I was not in the living room talking to my girl cousins about nail polish. 

(The aunts, for their part, either ladled soup in the kitchen or listened at the table, inserting a comment when appropriate. For a long time, I interpreted their disinterest as ignorance or resignation to gender norms, but with maturity one gets better at recognizing weariness. I remember once my jaw dropped when a cousin’s grandmother expressed a political opinion out loud- something about Hillary’s foreign policy. I hated myself for being so shocked that she’d have something to say.) 

I learned quickly that family debate is rocky terrain. The post-meal discussion usually unfolded as follows: 

Man 1: This ObamaCare is going to put doctors out of business, I’m telling you. 

Man 2: Just awful. The liberals are pushing us towards socialism. Aunt: We’re just giving more and more money to the lazy bums. Me: What about the majority of poor people who aren’t lazy and were born into poverty? I don’t think anyone genuinely wants to be on welfare. 

Man 2: Oh, no. We send our kids to the conservative schools and they still get brainwashed by liberals. 

Man 1: Question everything your teachers tell you, Gabs. They have an agenda. An agenda. 

Alternatively, the “elders” card was pulled and the conversation stopped short: 

Me: I don’t think you should call people _____ 

Relative: You can’t speak to me like that. How can you disrespect your family?

The more politically conscious I became, the more these dinners began to wear on my nerves. At school, I was learning so much I could almost feel my mind growing into itself. The classic teenage practice of finding oneself was in full force for me as I wrote school newspaper op-eds in my successive editor positions and defined myself in the lines of my rhetoric. Dinner with relatives sucked this pride out of my chest and pulled the plug on my budding confidence. I oscillated between righteous indignation that prompted me to sit firmly in place when the political debate started during our meal and outright fear that anyone would ask me at any point in the night about something of more import than my week’s activities. Family dinners became a matter of fight or flight.  

I took refuge in journalism and books. They seemed to possess more certainty than my relatives’ armchair sociological analyses. I read Betty Friedan, Ta Nehisi Coates, Ari Shavit… and the fact that I considered these all to be radical texts is indicative of how intimidated I felt in political terms. My progressive ideals were no longer inclinations; I could use words like “neoliberal” and “reactionary” to match my relatives’ rhetorical skill. Vocabulary aside, however, a gulf persisted between me and some of the men in my family.

What was this gulf, exactly? Was it a generational gap? Surely an ideological divide existed between every new crop of cousins, fathers and daughters, uncles and nieces. Common wisdom dictates that naïve youth will always be more progressive and open-minded than their older counterparts. It seemed to me, though, that something more was at play here. These Shabbat dinners meant more than a blasé tidal shift in opinions, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. 

The time came for me to go to college, and I was surrounded for the first time by a collection of politically conscious people who had enough intellectual acuity to rigorously critique the elder generation’s values. 

I met friends who told me their grandparents were “hella liberal” and still smoked weed on the weekends, and I beheld these friends in awe. This must have been the diversity they extolled in admissions brochures, the expansion of horizons — but which one of us was living in a bubble? Then there were the students who seemed to have swallowed their relatives’ platitudes like pills, rolling their eyes when they passed a student protest or snickering at T.A.’s requests to state our preferred gender pronouns. These students made me the most uneasy.  

Mostly, though, college brought me a network of friends who shared my experience. By this time we had all developed standby strategies to deal with opinionated table talk: some blocked out the rhetoric and ate their khoresht in peace, and some, like me, often ventured back into the weekly scuffles like moths to a partisan flame.  

But, of course, it was more than righteous indignation that pulled me back into the tides of argument. The supposed radical leftist hegemony on college campuses gave my relatives plenty of dinner table fodder on the nights when I made the ten-minute journey from my dorm to their dining rooms. They particularly liked to raise an issue with my chosen minor, Gender Studies, which they denounced as man-hating. As they prodded me about my professors in order to attack their liberal agendas, I felt the familiar nagging anxiety: Was the leftist haven I found in college making me tone-deaf, insular under the pretense of high-minded morality? I felt obligated to listen to every dismissal of Hillary Clinton, every racial slur, and every condemnation of Islam. This was my internal protest at their accusations of narrow-mindedness. 

I still wondered what was really new in our political conversations. Topics had changed — Obama and McCain became Hillary and Trump, Al Qaeda became ISIS, gay became LGBTQIA+ — but the emotions I had as a young progressive facing several elder conservatives were constant. What were we all feeling during those semi-heated exchanges? We one-upped each other and attacked arguments at weak points, but what was the seed of all this debate? Perhaps it was a sense of familial betrayal. 

We swear to keep family and business separate but there is no such promise when it comes to politics, although we know they are equally divisive. “The personal is political” is also true in reverse — to disparage someone’s worldview is an affront to their world. Political standpoints are currents that run deeper than the surface waters of opinion. Debate is healthy and insult is not, and the line between them is fine. 

One August night before my freshman year of college, one family member reminded me once again to question everything my professors would tell me.  

“These are a different kind of people. Really liberal. They don’t think like us.” 

I wondered briefly what he meant by “us,” considering our often radically divergent opinions. He had been at the dinner table all these years — could it be that he never truly listened to me? 

My cousin leaned toward me, interrupting my thoughts. 

“Or you could come back from college a flaming liberal, and we’ll still love you.”

 I was struck by the resonance of my cousin’s joke, and I still think about it often. By the very merit of calling one another family, we make an implicit promise to stand by one another and love unconditionally – that is, regardless of ideology. When we sit across the dining room table, embroidered white tablecloth stretching between us, and launch attacks intended not to teach, not to strengthen, but to change, there is a sense of combat that doesn’t belong in a family. These mealtime political debates are not a leisurely pastime but a battle driven by an attempt to win, and to win means to vanquish. Hovering over the platters of chicken and tadig is an intention to change one another, and the promise of loyalty feels contingent upon your next comeback.  

Isn’t that what families do, though? We change each other. Any amateur psychologist will tell you that our personalities begin at home. Parents, and to an extent other relatives, are charged with the responsibility of edifying their children. It takes a village, and a large part of this is the admonitions and proverbs of the villagers. Perhaps my relatives feel this weight of social obligation propelling them forward as they critique my beliefs. They crave my confirmation that they are succeeding in their efforts. Maybe when I push back and hold my own, they feel some kind of failure. 

There’s a Jewish parable in which a sage, faced with a crowd of scholars who disagree with his judgment, asks God to determine who is correct. God declines to comment. The wise men debate and eventually move forward with a decision. From heaven, God laughs with joy: “My sons have defeated me!” 

The goal of true mentorship has never been indoctrination. Young people look to their beloved elders to create some kind of safe space to learn to walk, to stumble, to mess up. The goal is that eventually, the pupil becomes the teacher. A student who recites their teachers’ talking points is a student lost.  

Through the ages, a 7 p.m. roundtable over plates of freshly-cooked dinner has been the family’s classroom. The curriculum is set by the routine inquiries of “What did you learn at school today?” and, “How was work?” Some families study in groups of three, and some are lucky enough to learn alongside dozens. I should hope that men in my family take enough interest in my growth to stretch my mind and challenge my thinking. So, too, should they hope I prove them wrong sometimes. 

[bethestaryouareradio]

Sprig Succession

By Cynthia Brian 

 “I’m grateful for the opportunity to live on this beautiful and astonishing Planet Earth. In the morning, I woke up with a sense of gratitude.” –Earl Nightingale

 In California, May reigns as one of the most colorful months of the year. Mother Nature has fully awakened from lingering winter doldrums to burst into bloom. The radiant combination of lush green lawns against cheerful vignettes of glowing, flowing flowers, trees, and shrubs is mesmerizing. Beauty, fragrance, and food beckon from every direction.

 With appreciation, I awake each morning and fall asleep each night to the lullabies from a multitude of songbirds. Pollinators are busy buzzing from nectar plants to other food sources signaling a healthy garden environment. The succession of blossoms changes daily from spring bulbs to robust roses; bright bearded iris to sprouted seeds scattered last fall. 

 May is the optimum time to plant annuals, vegetables, and herbs together in a potager garden. By combining a medley of edibles and florals, biological pest control is ignited providing plants to protect one another and be a shelter for beneficial insects. Nasturtium, calendula, and marigolds are the colorful workhorses attracting hungry caterpillars and blackflies away from brassicas and beans. Garlic planted between roses, lettuce, potatoes, or even fruit trees will keep the aphids, Japanese beetles, and ermine moths at bay. Parsley attracts pollinators and protectors of tomatoes. Mint deters ants and aphids but make sure to plant in a pot as mint can overtake an entire garden. Before planting, weed thoroughly, enrich the soil with compost or add new soil, and rotate crops to maintain vigor while producing greater yields.

 Jerusalem star, also known as go-to-bed early, vegetable oyster, or salsify is considered an invasive weed in some areas, but this dandelion-related plant is a forgotten beloved Victorian-era edible that tastes like an oyster and grows like a carrot. Its yellow-flowering relative is named goatsbeard. The taproot grows to twelve inches into the ground. Harvest with care to not break the root. In the kitchen, salsify is versatile and delicious in soups, stews, bisques, casseroles, or grated like beets in a salad for a fresh seafood/artichoke flavor. The entire plant has been used medicinally. 

 Be cautious of poisonous plants invading your vegetable garden. Poison hemlock is everywhere and is deadly if ingested. The pretty plant displays lacy and fernlike leaves with very delicate white flowers. A member of the carrot family, it is often mistaken for Queen Anne’s lace, a less- lethal specimen. The best way to identify poison hemlock is to look at the stems which have red or purple spots or streaks. Its most poisonous alkaloid is coniine which causes complete respiratory collapse. Only mechanical or artificial ventilation can save someone who has ingested poison hemlock. Wear gloves and a mask to dig out the root. Don’t weed whack it or burn it as small particles could be inhaled. Socrates drank hemlock tea as his preferred method of dying. 

 The yellow blooms of the elderberry tree signal spring’s arrival, and people need to be aware of the toxicity of this beautiful tree. The stems, seeds, leaves, bark, and roots are all poisonous to humans containing a cyanide-inducing glycoside. The blue-black berries are safe to eat only after boiling for at least twenty minutes. Elderberry jam and wine are popular and include major health benefits.

 Foxglove, Digitalis purpurea, a spectacularly beautiful biennial plant, is extremely attractive to children and every part of it is lethal to humans. Compounds from this plant are used in heart medicines. Since they grow tall, five to seven feet tall, plant them at the back of a flower garden and keep them out of your kitchen garden.

 Besides getting my potager and vegetable garden installed, my latest fun spring project has been creating a living wall garden by using a decorative frame from Nature Hills Nursery that features a built-in watering tray and a reservoir for drainage. This instant wall planter is a step up from the DYI picture frame with chicken wire-filled moss that I designed several years ago. I added potting soil to the portrait garden, arranged a variety of succulents, attached a found turkey feather, watered, and hung it on the exterior of my house in the sunshine as a growing art piece. 

 Every day I am immersed in gratitude for the wonders of Mother Earth as I watch the procession and succession of nature’s bounty. Walk gently through your garden to enjoy the miraculous magic of May. 

 The Goddess Gardener’s Gardening Guide for May

 ü  FERTILIZE: If you haven’t already, fertilize trees, shrubs, rhododendrons, azaleas, camellias, lawns, and ground covers while the days are warm, and the evenings are cool. 

ü  FEED indoor plants

ü  BAIT for snails and slugs that will damage new seedlings with organic Sluggo. The active ingredient is iron phosphate. Corry’s Slug and Snail Killer contains 5% sodium ferric Exceda that is safe for pets and people and can be used on edibles. After eating the bait, these gastropods slink to their hiding places to die. Because both male and female mollusks lay eggs, one slug or snail can contribute to thousands of these pests terrorizing crops if not eradicated. 

ü  SPRAY roses, crape myrtle trees, and ground cover susceptible to aphids and fungal diseases.

ü  DEADHEAD roses as the petals fade to encourage continuous blooming.

ü  PLANT annuals and perennials including zinnia, salvia, calibrachoa.

ü  ELIMINATE standing water from gutters, old tires, or saucers to reduce the breeding of mosquitoes.

ü  TRANSPLANT small trees, including fruit trees such as nectarine or avocado to the desired area. 

ü  MOW tall wild grass to three inches or less as a fire defensible space.

ü  COMBINE edibles and flowers in a kitchen garden with a variety of tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, beets, squash, garlic, parsley, borage, nasturtium, calendula, roses, and marigolds.

 Happy Gardening. Happy Growing. 

Photos and more: https://www.lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1606/Digging-Deep-with-Goddess-Gardener-Cynthia-Brian-Spring-succession.html

Press Pass: https://blog.voiceamerica.com/2022/05/12/digging-deep-with-goddess-gardener-cynthia-brian-in-may/

 Cynthia Brian, The Goddess Gardener, is available for hire to help you prepare for your spring garden. Raised in the vineyards of Napa County, Cynthia is a New York Times best-selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are!® 501 c3. Tune into Cynthia’s StarStyle® Radio Broadcast at www.StarStyleRadio.com.

Buy copies of her books, including, Chicken Soup for the Gardener’s Soul, Growing with the Goddess Gardener, and Be the Star You Are! www.cynthiabrian.com/online-store. Receive a FREE inspirational music DVD and special savings.

Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures.

Cynthia@GoddessGardener.com

www.GoddessGardener.com