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noodyl-blasstal · 2 years ago

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Walk this Fae

Day 20 of @taznovembercelebration! Today's prompt card was "fae AU" (FaeU) and I drew another card for fun and got "sweet"

Read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday's? Find it here.

Kravitz fills the dish with a few chocolates and questions, yet again, whether this was rock bottom.

The break up hadn’t been unexpected, per say, Cyrus had been drifting further away and things had felt heavy and weird for a while. Not that they ever felt particularly good, but Cyrus was there and things were fine and then they weren’t. He wasn’t sad about it per say, hadn’t even really cried apart from quick self-pitying one in the shower. But feeling fine about the split didn’t change the fact he’d said he was bringing a plus one to the awards ceremony and he’d definitely said ‘he’ when talking about his boyfriend so he couldn’t really bring Sloane unless he fancied trying to explain the concept of a he/him lesbian to his immediate and very distant coworkers and then also explain why he, Definitely A Man, was dating said he/him lesbian. The prospect sounds deeply unappealing so he turned Sloane down, even though she ‘generously’ offered to wear a tux for the occasion (she’d find any excuse, honestly).

At some point in the thought spiral about the whole mess of it, he decided the best and most logical option was to turn to folklore. He wasn’t going to do anything insane like hiring a date, obviously, so he had to find another solution. This one is simple. He just has to leave the dish out for a final night now and then he can up the ante. It was supposed to be cream, but, well, that seemed unhygienic and he didn’t know if Themselves understood about clingfilm, so he’d been leaving a few Lindt chocolates instead. They were basically just solidified cream if you thought about it. He also didn’t have a back door so he’d been leaving them outside the front door, but you know, they were going, so it was probably working.

Now there were just two more weeks left and he was going to be at the point where he could have a conversation! Probably? Either way it was unequivocally easier than attempting to do dating ever again. Deals with Themselves have rules, there’s a clear path, it’s all laid out in the book and you can cross reference! Kravitz loves to cross reference. It’s simple, the offerings increase until a time when one of Them will be prepared to make a deal with you, usually related to Cornish Fairings as far as he can tell, but they can negotiate biscuit preferences closer to the time, he’ll buy a few packets of different things and they can taste test. Maybe he can make it a fun thing? The fae can rate the best dunkers and see if he agrees with Kravitz’s preferences. There’s no reason a business deal has to be dull.

–

The chocolate is gone the next morning, and there’s a note! “Thanks, T xoxo” is scribbled on the back of a receipt. Kravitz has no idea why a fae lord needs to buy cat litter and dark chocolate - maybe he found it? But he’s happy to take it as an auspicious sign. He just needs to figure out his next steps. Probably leaving the door open to tempt the fae in? No, not tempt, that sounds creepy, invite! That was better. Invite them in.

Kravitz surveys his efforts, the door is propped slightly open, (he tries not to feel weird about that, it’s fine, he can break the ‘always lock your door’ advice that his Mums gave him for something this important) but it doesn’t look as inviting as it should. Even the string of lights he added just look a bit ominous.

He can fix this. More snacks inside! The sign’s not subtle, but it should do the job.

–

“Knock knock!” Comes a lilting voice.

Shit. It’s happening! Yes! “Come in!” Kravitz tries to keep his voice even.

“Are you going to serial kill cha’boy?”

“No?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“Telling! I’m not going to murder you.”

“Cool!” The voice says, and there’s a swishing jangling step as someone approaches.

Kravitz squeezes his eyes shut, he’s got to stay calm. He can’t eat any food or drink anything he’s offered. Oh! Thinking of drink, he quickly pours the water into the teapot and sets the timer. He knew keeping the pan at a boil would be sensible.

“Oh, hey Krav!” Taako appears in the doorway. “I didn’t know this one was you.” “Is this some kind of trickery thing?” Kravitz asks in the most even voice he can manage. Maybe this is what they do, appear wearing the face of something you desire.

“What? You invited me in.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You said there was more snacks inside?”

“That wasn’t for you… wait… have you been?”

“It’s a long way up the stairs. Cha’boy thought you were leaving snacks for sustenance while the lift’s out.”

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no!

“You’ve been eating the offerings?”

“What?”

“For Themselves!”

“You’ve been leaving offerings for the fae?”

“Just to get one in here. You’re the one who’s been eating random door chocolates!”

“Hold on, you’ve been trying to fuck a fairy?”

“Don’t call Them fairies! You know They don’t like it.”

“You’re not denying the ‘fucking one’ bit of that accusation.”

“It’s for a work thing!”

“What do you do?”

“No, it’s not like… shit.” Kravitz wonders exactly how hard it is to disappear. He doesn’t really want to cut up his bank card and throw his phone into the sea, but he’ll do it if it means he gets to stop having this conversation.” He settles for flopping into a seat at the kitchen table.

Taako perches on the one opposite him. Maybe he is fae, he’s certainly ethereal enough for it with his colourful clothes and his layers and his cheekbones and his ass. Wait. Not the last bit, fuck. This isn’t about Kravitz’s stupid pointless neighbour crush.

“Wait, did you make these?” Taako tugs one of the biscuit rating cards towards himself.

“Give that back!” Kravitz snatches it out of his hand. He doesn’t need to be mocked any more. He’s going to be reliving this every time he wakes up at 3am for the rest of his life, there’s no need to prolong it or add dimension to the torture.

Taako grabs the other sheet and reads it as if nothing happened. “Big fan of the rubric.”

“What?” Is Taako complimenting his biscuit criteria right now?

“It’s important, durability but also mushiness, they’re two separate things.”

“Yes.” Says Kravitz stiffly. He’s scared to lean too far into the conversation, worried it’s a trap. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had pretended to be interested in what he was saying to flip it back on him later.

“Did you make the tea already?”

“It’s brewing. There’s a timer.” If he doesn’t say too much he probably can’t make this situation worse. It could even be salvageable if they promise never ever ever to speak abot it again.

“Mmmhmm.” Taako drops his usually casual demeanour. “Would you like cha’boy to go? Taako doesn’t like to outstay his welcome.”

“No!” Kravitz says it fast and panicked. He’s not sure why. If Taako goes he can sit on the floor very still and very quiet and think about how exactly which lie to tell about why he can’t come and get the biggest award of his career… but also, also, it’s nice to have him here. This is better than chatting in the laundry room, it’s always hard to hear him over the washing machine.

Taako shrugs as if it’s no big deal, as if this situation isn’t ridiculous, and settles back in his chair. “Which one’s your favourite?”

“I can’t tell you that!” Kravitz cannot believe Taako’s lax approach to research ethics. “It’d bias your opinion. You’ve got to go in fresh.”

“So Taako’s allowed, then? To stay and play?” Taako gestures at the array of biscuits.

If he wants to then he definitely can. “Yes. I want to know what you think.” Kravitz nudges a custard cream themed pen at Taako - appropriate tools were necessary for the job. He keeps the one with the springy Jammy Dodger on top for himself. Taako eyes is jealously, but he should have brought his own.

The tea timer bleeps delicately, Kravitz got it specifically for its tiny boop. He hates being startled and the old one was too aggressive.

“Do you take milk?”

“Yes, no sugar.”

“You’re sweet enough.” Kravitz finishes.

Taako smiles a big smile at that. The pride swelling in Kravitz’s chest at the sight of the delight on Taako’s face. It’s unexpected and he did that!

“Hey Krav?” Taako asks, somewhere between biscuits 8 and 10. “What’s someone like you doing messing with the Mooinjer Veggey?”

“Someone like me?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the usual type, lost fiddler on a hill and all that.”

“I’m pretty good on the cello.” Kravitz shouldn’t be offended, but how dare Taako not assume Kravitz is a fiddle prodigy? He could be! There’s no evidence to the contrary.

“Oh well then, private concert for one, do you take requests? Can you do the Thong Song?”

He can, is the thing. He shouldn’t go and get his cello right now and demonstrate that fact.

“One second!” Kravitz leaps up.

“Are you serious?”

Kravitz doesn’t say anything, just runs to the corner of the living room and opens the case with a flourish.

“My dude, if you are about to crack out some Sisqó on the extra big violin Taako’s going to lose it.”

Kravitz pretends he’s in his fanciest suit, flips the tails, and sits. Drinks in Taako’s smile, relishes the fact his eyes are fixed on Kravitz. It’s not usually something he likes, but in this case he’ll take double staring.

By the time he hits the chorus Taako is laughing so hard he’s flopped sideways and snorting and still just about managing the backing vocals. He’s perfect.

“So I think that Themselves would probably keep me under their hill forever.” Kravitz says once the last note has died. He tries not to be smug, he does, he knows it’s impolite, but it’s hard, he deserves to be pleased with himself.

“You’re not wrong, handsome.” Taako says, still slumped on the sofa. “I think I’m crying.”

Kravitz automatically offers the tissue box, he has one in most rooms, just to be safe.

“Why did you do this?” Taako asks again.

“You said you had a request.” “No, not this.” Taako points to the cello. “This!” He gestures at the tea, the biscuits.

Kravitz isn’t sure if it’s wise to admit the truth, but a minute ago Taako was crying on his sofa about the Thong Song so Kravitz isn’t sure Taako has much room to make fun of him right now.

“I need a date.” Kravitz says quickly. Maybe if he just gets it over with it won’t be too bad.

“You what now?” Taako looks like he’s about to try and reboot his ears for being defective.

“I won’t be accepting any supplementary questions at this time.” States Kravitz, wishing more than anything he had a business curtain to close, or a door to lock, a tannoy announcement. Shut for business for the day, no further questions, thank you all so much for playing!

“So this is a monster fuck thing! I didn’t think you were the type.” Taako gives him a very slow once over that Kravitz doesn’t have any bandwidth to process right now.

“No!” Kravitz is fairly sure the werewolf cowboy romances on the shelf by his bed don’t count. Probably.

“Then why?”

“There’s a work thing.”

“Hang on, you’re serious?”

“I just said it was!”

“It sounded like a lie.”

“Would you like me to make up a more plausible lie than the lie-sounding-truth?”

“No no, go on, cha’boy needs to hear this.” Taako looks positively delighted, but it’s probably too late to back out.

“There’s a work thing… it’s an awards thing, and I was dating a guy and now I’m not, but they already ordered the food and I don’t want to tell anyone because they’ll do the weird squinchy face and not know what to say bit and we’ll all just have to marinade in the terribleness together and long for escape.”

“Bad.” Says Taako with feeling.

“Bad.” Kravitz agrees. “You get it.”

Taako nods solemnly. Then cocks his head to the side. “Taako could be your date.”

“What?”

“Well, I ate your cream… Wait, no!”

It’s too late, Kravitz is laughing hard and ugly and happy.

“I ate the chocolates.”

“You did.” Gasps Kravitz, trying to calm down.

“And the biscuits.”

“Yes.” That was true.

“So now I owe you.”

“You don’t.”

“I think I want to owe you.” Taako smirks and Kravitz is almost convinced it’s flirting.

“It’s black tie, the event. You know. Fancy nonsense.” He’d better make sure Taako knows what he’s getting into.

“Oooh! Is there fancy nonsense food too?”

“Probably. I can check the menu.”

“There will be.” Taako says confidently. “It’s gonna be bad and your company will have paid too much for it.”

“You don’t even know where it is.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you about why it’s all shit.”

“Okay.” Says Kravitz, scared to break the spell.

“Okay.” Taako replies firmly, solidly, making a date-ly. “We’re going to take the world by storm. Anyway, what’s the awards thing for?”

“Nothing much. Just, you know, work stuff.” Kravitz waves a hand dismissively. There’s no way he’s going through the embarrassment of admitting to Taako that he’s the guest of honour. It doesn’t change anything about what they’ve agreed.

“Okay. Well, just send cha’boy the details, I wrote my number on the biscuit form.”

“Before the Thong Song?”

“Before the Thong Song.” Taako confirms solemnly.

I hope you enjoyed! Want to read more? Tomorrow's prompt is here.

#“Aren't you so proud?” Asks everyone at the party while Taako - completely clueless - nods enthusiastically and uses it as a chance #to make Kravitz blush #Then he gets called up on the stage and Taako is ???????????#Noodyl Writes #TAZNC #taz november celebration #Taz fic #Taakitz

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themilky-way · 5 years ago

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on a foreign planet

gif credit: santigarcia

pairing: din djarin/the mandalorian x reader

summary: din isn��t too fond of touch, but after a particularly cold mission, he realizes just how important it might be.

warnings: uh is me being touch starved a warning bc if so oh boy

author’s note: got the cot inspiration from 1) the literal fucking cot scene-you know what i’m talking about and 2) miss birbs’ lovely fic @whirlybirbs

-----------

from what you saw, it had been a faulty mission on tatooine. the minute he stepped off the lift of the crest and set out to look for something was the minute your gut tightened in an all too familiar feeling. you came to know it like the back of your hand-living and occasionally partaking in conversation with the mandalorian the leading cause. you learned to trust that ache and never questioned it despite many efforts to do so; desperate attempts to urge him to not leave the safety of his ship were made, and sometimes a laugh threatened to escape because of how silly you must’ve sounded. the mandalorian never listened and never would, so all you could do was prepare the emergency kit stationed within the cabinets of the cockpit.

he’d bust in whenever you’d least expect it. a weary hand clutching the side of his abdomen or a limped gait indicated he needed some form of assistance, and the responsibility was almost always yours. most of the time he never said a word, as was his usual demeanor, and just situated himself on the floor near your bed, his back leaning into the mattress. he knew you’d do it-care for him and restore his health-and now it’d be no different.

“i’ll be back before sundown,” din informed. his armor seemed to glisten more in the early morning rays than it did in the evening, an odd comparison you made when he entered the cabin. he stood proudly at the door, as he definitely should, wiping his pistol with a small rag and inspecting its crevices and compartments to ensure its performance. then he looked up.

you were sitting-cuddled, more like-in his pilot’s chair with the baby pulling on the strings of din’s blanket from the ground. short, high-pitched sounds came from him to gain attention. this isn’t yours, he wanted to say, but was stuck with the only language he knew: gibberish. “feel free to keep my blanket by the way,” the mandalorian assured, “you’ll need it for the blizzard tonight.”

“what blizzard? i thought it was just desert here,” you inquired, sitting up a bit in bewilderment. the blanket slid over your legs at the sudden motion, falling over the child still tugging at it. it covered his tiny head all the way to his tiny toes, outlining his (rather large) ears and torso. “maker,” you huffed after hearing a muffled, yet complaining coo, “what’s up with you today?” lifting the sheet with one hand, you brought the baby along with you and positioned it on top of your leg. “there. take a nap, will you?”

when you finally got the opportunity to look away, you captured a glance of din exiting the craft with his equipment in hand. you didn’t expect anything less; his attitude was meant to be cold and harsh. he didn’t have to say good-bye every time he left for a mission or tell you good morning whenever he woke up, yet you’d be lying if you said that the absence of these aspects didn’t take a toll on you. hell, a friendship would've been nice considering all the time you’ve spent with one another, but what you received would have to suffice.

it wasn’t often that you were left alone. somehow, and for some strange reason, the man who so earnestly follows his creed never lets the child or you out of his sight. it was fun at times; you bought the weekly groceries while din scavenged for an alien for its monetary value. a win-win.

“i’m gonna go in that room...” you pointed to the small door of the cot, “...and i’m gonna sleep for a while, okay?”

the child looked at you and gurgled a reply. it began pointing its ears forward as a cat would if it were content. his stubby hands, which were hard to differentiate between that or paws, reached upward to indicate his wish to be hoisted. “you wanna come with?” you asked quietly, and a set of miniature teeth that were barely there flashed in a wide grin.

the plan wasn’t to doze off for more than two hours. the siesta wasn’t meant to last through the whole evening either.

the quilt (that wasn’t rightfully yours) was too warm for you not to fall asleep. the baby cozied up in the junction of your arm and elbow with its fuzzed head against your shoulder. your legs and torso were contorted to accommodate the limited capacity of the bunk; it wasn’t the best position per se, but it did the trick.

on his way back from an assigned trade, the mandalorian’s field of vision turned foggy. a gloved hand that was possibly blue with the frost clung to his belongings in the same manner as when he’d left. to discard the items and shield himself from the falling snowflakes was what he wanted to do, but each slow, deep tread of his boots promised a closer distance to the comfort of his plane. snow developed into sleet as he neared the engine, with the droplets of water trickling down the “T” of his visor serving as a fun game of ‘which drop will reach the bottom first?’ it was childish in itself and not in the slightest bit appropriate for his current conditions.

when the sleeve of white beneath his shoes became metal, his back straightened with a few cracks (one of his perks, he liked to say). his brain was running automatically, directing his steps and turns to where he could find one fragment of peace: the cot.

he knew you were inside. the visibility his helmet equipped him with was astonishing; a single click of a button and the steps you took during his leave would be all his to analyze and detail. the same trembling hands from before reached for the latch and opened the door of the compact room. he tried to speak as clearly as he could without arousing a scare in the child or you, a free palm gently grasping and shaking your ankle.

“hey,” he whispered. “canyouwakeupplease?” it came out rushed and scrambled, his teeth chattering in between syllables.

“din’ika?” you slurred, voice heavy with sleep. “what time is-okay, why are you holding my feet?”

“needed s-something to wake y-you up,” din shivered. he took a step back, and for the first time that day, you fully saw him. there wasn’t much light in the space besides the one light coming from the cockpit but the shape of his beskar helped diminish your fatigue.

“maker, din, you’re freezing. get inside.”

he didn’t hesitate or fight your suggestion as he typically did. instead, with some trouble, he gradually squeezed himself inside the little space as you slid up the mattress. you swallowed a giggle when the top of his head hit the ceiling because, well, it’s funny.

“don’t l-laugh at me, i’m c-cold,” he said.

“i know you’re cold,” you smiled.

din made the choice to sleep on his back, while your option was to lay on your side and the baby in the middle. it wasn’t horrible. the three of you could live with it.

a few minutes followed before you felt the cold leather of his fingers encircle the tips of yours. the sensation was new; an experience that wasn’t in the script for him. he was afraid of how you’d react. is this too tight? too clammy? i’m wearing gloves, it doesn’t even matter. no wait, yes it does.

the thoughts stopped as abruptly as they came. he felt the air surrounding the room span across the skin of his wrist, and then the top of his hand. it flowed beyond that to the beginning of his fingers until his covering was completely off.

your hand was warm and it fit so perfectly in his when you melded it together. a sharp breath hitched in his throat, unaware of how to speak and how to act. in this moment, din’s instinct demanded him to turn away and be who he was presumed to be, but that was nearly absurd now with his hand wrapped in yours.

“is this okay?” you spoke softly.

he squeezed his eyes shut as if it would dissipate him from existence, trying to overlook your breath fanning into the opening of his suit. “yes. is this alright with you, too?”

“yeah. it is.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #star wars fanfiction #pedro pascal #all my fics w din include hand holding LMAO #it's cuz its cute #my writing!

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boasamishipper · 4 years ago

Note

otp questions for icemav of course, but also harry/perry from kiss kiss bang bang

1. Are they more “cute forehead kisses” or “hot making out” kind of couple? Maybe one prefers first option and the other one the second? How do they deal, in that case?

Ice and Mav are more of a "hot making out" kind of couple when they first get together, but as the years go by they develop a fondness for cute forehead kisses and the like as well - especially once they're married and can engage in the occasional public display of affection. Mav likes it when Ice kisses him on the nose and on the forehead, and Ice is a fan of cheek kisses and neck kisses, and both enjoy making out lol. Whatever feels most natural at the moment is what they go for.

Harry and Perry are definitely a "hot making out" kind of couple - the more cutesy types of kisses aren't really their thing, especially not in public. Occasionally Harry will bring Perry his morning coffee and kiss him on the forehead, or on the top of his head, and Perry will do his utmost to pretend not to like it.

2. If they wanted to shower their significant other with affection, how would they do that? Dinner in some fancy restaurant, gift, kisses and cuddles or an evening together on a couch with hot tea and very intimate talk?

Mav would treat Ice to dinner in a fancy restaurant, followed by a romantic evening featuring wine and rose petals between the bedsheets. Ice would cook Mav's favorite meal and they'd either go out for a night on the town or they'd spend the evening together at home with a stupid movie on TV (while they make out and/or have sex on the couch).

Perry is not really one to shower anybody with big displays of affection, least of all his significant other - with Harry, he shows his affection through touch (holding hands, kisses, embraces, cuddling, etc.), and calls him an idiot a little less often (or just with more fondness than normal). Harry tries now and then to shower Perry with big displays of affection, except in typical Harry fashion his attempts always end in disaster - his gift is stolen, his dinner reservation is canceled, Perry and Harry are kidnapped by the people they're investigating on their way to go to the theater, and so on and so forth. Perry likes old musicals, expensive whiskey, and Harry. Harry does his best to provide.

3. Are they comfortable with showing each other affection in public? If one is and the other one not, how do they interact in public?

Ice and Mav become more comfortable with PDA after they get married - Ice takes a little longer to get used to actually being able to show Mav affection in public, to just be out after so long in the closet, but Mav is patient with him and helps him loosen up. Their PDA doesn't really go further than chaste kisses and holding hands, at least at work functions (where at least half of Mav's sentences start with My husband and I); when they're with friends Mav will put his head against Ice's shoulder when they're seated, maybe sit in his lap as a joke, or Ice will stroke Mav's hair, kiss his hairline.

Perry thinks PDA is stupid until Harry gets flirted with one too many times in front of him; after that, Perry makes a habit out of touching Harry in some capacity, kissing Harry in public, flirting with him, but after a while it becomes less out of jealousy / staking his claim and more of something he actually enjoys doing. Harry flirts right back - he has an entire notebook's worth of pet names for Perry (ranging from baby to Per-bear) - and is pleased that his not-so-evil scheme of being flirted with in front of Perry resulted in Perry being more affectionate with him in public.

4. Do they have pet names? Do they like to embarrass each other in front of their friends/family/coworkers with some silly ones? Or do they keep it with basics, like “sweetheart” or “honey”?

Mav and Ice occasionally call each other by their ranks - mostly as foreplay - and 'baby' when they're feeling particularly romantic, but Mav and Ice are usually just Mav and Ice or Mitchell and Kazansky with one another and in front of their friends/family/coworkers.

Perry and Harry's list of pet names for one another are Varied. There are the tried and trues baby and sweetheart, and fond versions of idiot, dick, asshole, pretentious fuck, moron, and stupid fuck, and (in Harry's case, because Perry Will Not Do This) pet versions of their real names, e.g. Per or Per-Bear.

5. If one of them was away for longer time, like a week, how their significant other would greet them back?

Mav and Ice would do their best to keep in touch while the other was away, and would greet the other with Much Enthusiasm when they'd return. Afterwards, to celebrate the other's return, they'd go out to dinner, or take a couple day vacation, or just go straight to bed together and celebrate Properly in the morning. Either way sex is definitely involved.

Harry is more enthusiastic when Perry returns after being away for a longer time - he gets the house clean and/or the office in order and then pretty much jumps Perry the second he gets through the door. (Not that Perry minds.) Perry tries to play it blasé when Harry comes back from an extended trip - he pretends to not have remembered Harry's arrival date, when he's had it circled on his calendar from pretty much the second Harry walked out the door - but is absolutely terrible at it. That blasé attitude lasts about five minutes before Perry and Harry end up in bed with one another. The phrases "So you did miss me" and "shut up Harry" are very well worn by now.

6. How often do they say “I love you” to one another? On daily basics, leaving to work, with a kiss on a cheek and quick “love u, bye!” or it’s more rare and more emotional?

Daily (or almost daily) basics the longer they're together for Icemav, in more rare and emotional cases for Harry and Perry. Harry and Perry are quicker to throw around the occasional sarcastic Love you too babe and I can't believe I love you, but just regular I love yous are reserved for more serious occasions.

7. Do they keep track of each other during the day? Asking how is that important meeting going and texting “I <3 u”? Or they just text each other grocery list and talk when they are both home?

Harry and Perry text each other a lot. Harry is a magnet for trouble, and Perry texts him often during work to make sure he's doing his job (and, during more dangerous cases, because he wants to know if Harry's alright). They text about work more often than not and do talk more often about non-work-related things when they're at home, but there is some overlap. Harry loves it when he can get Perry to go on long rants about something he's passionate about over text when they're both supposed to be working.

Ice and Mav work together as well, but due to the nature of their jobs they don't text each other a lot during work, and catch up on their days at home. They don't have a lot of serious conversations over text either; texts between them contain anything from grocery lists, cat pics, complaints about students, reminders to pick up dry-cleaning, memes, links to interesting articles, strings of emoji, and - yes - many instances of "I <3 u".

8. How long into their relationship they are, when they say “I love you” for the first time? Who says that first? In what situation?

I'm fond of several scenarios for Harry and Perry exchange I Love Yous for the first time - quiet moments, Harry-does-something-stupid-and-gets-injured moments, Perry-does something-stupid-and-gets-injured moments - but the one thing that stays consistent is that it is a While after they've officially gotten together, and Perry is the first one to say it (when Harry is not expecting it).

My main headcanon for Icemav involves their relationship going from friends to FWBs to lovers over the course of a few years, with Mav proposing right before DADT goes into effect. I'm all for Big Dramatic I Love Yous, and no one is more dramatic than these two when they want to be, but honestly, I feel like their first I Love You would come during a quiet moment, not long after they've officially begun a relationship. Maybe Mav says it to Ice over breakfast and Ice responds in kind without even thinking about it. Maybe Ice says it to Mav when they're cuddling in bed. The sky's the limit re: potential situations and who says it first, but I like the idea of it happening during a Quiet Moment.

9. Do they have some unusual ways of saying “I love you”? Squeezing hands, that they both know what means?

(princess bride voice) That day, Harry was amazed to discover that when Perry called him an idiot, what he meant was, "I love you." (I mean, there are a Lot of instances where Perry calls Harry an idiot in the fullest sense of the word, but the point stands lol.)

Ice told Mav once not long after they officially got together that he thought 'boyfriend' sounded juvenile and 'partner' felt too formal, so Mav just stuck to referring to Ice as his wingman. They both have a certain fondness for the word now, and (princess bride voice) When They Say 'You Can Be My Wingman Anytime', What They Actually Mean Is I Love You.

10. How they show affection to the other one in everyday life? Do they cook dinner for each other? Or wash the dishes, even though it’s not their turn, cause they know the other one hates it?

For both couples, it's about the little things. Ice and Mav trade off chores, but if one of them is working late, the other will be responsible for dinner and/or cleaning - Ice Hates shoveling the snow, so Mav hires one of the local neighborhood kids to shovel their driveway and the walkway so Ice won't have to. Perry and Harry may argue about Harry's organization skills (or lack thereof), but Perry knows that if he asks Harry to get something important done, that important thing Will Get Done, and it will get done well, and Harry will get a head start on the work needed to be finished next.

#thanks for asking!#top gun #icemav #kiss kiss bang bang #harry x perry #quinnmorgendorffer #beautiful mutuals #thanks for the ask alex!!! sorry it took me so long to get this answered lol

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ktheist · 5 years ago

Text

lie to me, lie with me.

warnings. mention of miscarriage, divorce and alcohol.

[day #1348]

jeon jungkook doesn’t not believe in soulmates per se.

“i just don’t believe that you’re supposed to give your whole life to someone some invisible force decides is ‘right’ for you,” his eyes hadn’t particularly been observing the every change of emotion on your face.

but you were half-expecting that he would see through your seemingly momentous pause - when in fact, you were only going over the odds of him shutting you out if you spoke your mind. that all your life, you spent staring at the digits in your wrist for the moment you’d meet the destined one.

the other half of your soul.

he seemed like it though.

the kind of person to turn someone away at the romanticized mention of red strings and destiny, that is.

you couldn’t really say those words weren’t planned - no, by then, you’d already gone over the possibilities of this attractive but emotionally cautious man shutting the hopeless romantic-you out and you chose the only other option to stay by his side.

“me too.”

that’s the first lie you ever told to jungkook.

“really?” his unnervingly hollow eyes seemed to sparkle even just a little bit as though he wholeheartedly believed you.

“yeah,” you’d shrugged, eyes rolling as though the notion of two souls combined had been ludicrous, “like who’d want their lives decided on some countdown?”

in less than a minute, you’d told your second lie to the man you’d since then decided, could easily break your heart.

“cool.” but the ghost of a smile and the lull of his head as he looked at you with a sort of comforting mutual understanding, as if thinking ‘so it’s not just me’ - had been worth it.

and so began the series upon series of lies you tell jungkook who after several ‘would you like to grab dinner’s and ‘i like spending time with you’s later, became your boyfriend.

the numbers kept decreasing whilst long sleeves, wristbands and hand scarves began to find home on the surfaces of your counter, coffee table, couches - anywhere that you could think of, there’d be a colorful flowery piece of cloth or a black nike wristband lying around in your periphery. they blended so well with the background.

jungkook was tolerable for the most part. that is, until you moved in together and he bought a an empty bowl which started to get filled up by your wrist accessories.

“you know, i don’t really mind the countdown,” he’d told you casually while you were huddled up together on the grey couch of your shared living room, every change of color scheme from the tv reflecting in his eyes like a second projector, “you don’t have to hide it from me.”

he never did.

but that was because his was on 0.

it always had been ever since you met him that night at some party that your uni friends invited you to.

“i just like having something on my wrists,” by then you’d lost count of how many lies you’d spoken with your sweet lips as you laid your cheek on his chest, a hand on his abdomen whilst his arm tugged you closer to him as though he couldn’t stand a hair breadth’s distance separating you.

“what would you say about having something on your finger?” jungkook’s eyes had slanted to your gawping ones ever so casually but the way his gaze quivered told you of the nervousness that he hid almost perfectly underneath his unbothered facade.

“what?” you breathed out, lips threatening to curl into a full blown smile but didn’t because you couldn’t let yourself make up scenarios of a home and mini you and him running around the living room but when his lips quirked the way it would whenever he was happy but didn’t want to show it - you knew it had been jungkook’s way of promising for a future.

“what?” he casually shrugged.

you’d went back to crushing your cheek against his chest as the hand on his abdomen went around to his hip, hugging throughout the movie.

[day #899]

it was your second christmas together, surrounded by your family and relatives who’d all been supportive of you and jungkook’s relationship - that they’d teased you just as you were about to pass jungkook a bowl of salads to place it on the dining table. the spot you’d happened to intersect each other at had been none other than the doorway, underneath a mistletoe.

you were seconds away from going for a quick peck but he’d been faster to fall on one knee and pulled out a velvet red box.

“yes,” lie. “yes,” lie. “yes,” lie. “yes!”

fucking lies.

he’d lifted you off your feet with his arms around your waist while you kissed him passionately in front of your family. your grandmother had looked impressed, your mother had tried to hide her smile while your father was gripping the fork a bit too tightly - you’d then, commented on the slightly bent condition of one particular cutlery as you helped your mother with the dishes.

[day #542]

convincing jungkook to wear a bow had not been an easy task. he hated anything so formal and restricting, just as he hated the surprised look in your friends and extended family’s faces when they found out that your countdown was still running.

it took a lot of promises and pecks on his cheeks, lips, knuckles - anywhere you could get your mouth on - to get him to stay throughout the reception and after party instead of whisking you away to have your first night at the five-star hotel he’d saved up for almost a year to book.

but you were married and you were beginning to wonder if that was all that mattered.

“i love you, i love you,” you’d echoed the words as he’d slammed you against the wall after the guests left, drunk or sober but sleepy.

“you better,” the smirk he had on had been a smug one - almost as though he was the proudest and happiest man in the world to be able to have you. to call you his.

at least, even if he didn’t say it, you knew his love was more solid and real than your meaningless lies.

[day #248]

“we’ll get through this.” jungkook’s hand swallows yours as he squeezes it in what you assume to be a reassuring gesture - he’s never said anything he doesn’t mean.

but your heart is broken in half and your lower body is sore and hurting from the extraction process. you couldn’t even bear to look at the forming parts of a human - of who could have been your second child. or first.

you don’t know anymore.

“how, jungkook?” you question, eyes boring into his.

“wh-”

“how do you expect me to ‘get through’ losing my second baby?” the first time, you’d planned your child to be born on september just like daddy’s birthday. but on your second month of pregnancy, you’d felt an excruciating pain in your lower abdomen.

you didn’t take a hard fall on your butt. didn’t do any rigorous lifting. didn’t even do any chores - jungkook had insisted.

he’d been the most attentive, if he could, he would have marched up to your boss and demand that she’d let you work from home but you’d stopped him and convinced him that nothing could go wrong when all you had to do was sit on your ass in an air conditioned office until he came and pick you up.

“i lost a child too, ___,” it’s the first time he sounds so vulnerable. so fragile. almost as if another word from you would break him beyond repair.

“please just... don’t leave.” the sob escapes you before you can even suppress it.

“i won’t- i never will.” he kisses your forehead and climbs into the fit-for-one hospital bed with you after the lights went off and the nurses left.

but the truth hovered in the air like an overdue storm.

every soul who rejected their other half and took on another’s will never truly be complete. or at least, they’d never feel complete.

[day #76]

jungkook hardly gets nervous. the handful of times he did, you could count with your fingers.

the day he proposed to you. the day you both decided to take a pregnancy test for the first time after trying for a baby for months. and today.

“what’s this?” you’re burning holes through the beige colored document that jungkook just slid over to you.

“what it looks like.” is all he says, shoulder line sagged and eyes refusing to meet yours.

“i don’t know what it looks like.” thorny tendrils wrap around your voice - you start to regret it as soon as you see the way he physically flinches at your tone, “what’s it supposed to look like, jungkook?”

“you’ll be happier.” he doesn’t offer you an explanation. and yet those three words ring in your ears like a summon.

“no,” it’s a surprise that your neck hasn’t snapped from the way you’re shaking your head, “no- i’m happy with you.”

“we haven’t been happy in awhile now, ___.” it’s the single drop of tear that mars the back of his hand that rushes to wipe it away as though he’s the one trying to convince himself that he’d do fine without you.

like you would without him.

but you’ve fought too many times. tried too many options. marriage counseling. therapy. even trying for and losing another baby. as if third time’s the charm. as if you’re not doomed from the moment you both sat in his car at target’s parking lot, holding a beer in one hand. alcohol and 3 am conversations can lead to so many things.

“if you want to go back to her-” the lump in your throat forbids you from saying more.

“no- no, i won’t.” jungkook hurriedly refutes, his eyes burning with a sort of disappointment that you’re not sure if you can bear, “how could you even think that i would...”

“people change their minds all the time, jungkook.” you shrug, trying to be casual about it even though your cheeks are wet and your vision is blurred with tears.

a pause hangs over the kitchen you both shared and spent countless mornings making breakfasts.

“are you...” he starts but you don’t - couldn’t let him finish before you find yourself gasping and sobbing all at once.

but you don’t deny the possibility of your hand picking up the pen and flipping through the pages until you get to the back before scribbling your signature once the countdown strikes zero.

[day #0]

it’s been on zero for quite some time now. on the first week, you spend your days and nights curled up under your sheets. your cheeks don’t even have the time to dry before they’re wet again and there aren’t many occasions where your eyes aren’t swollen.

your heart feels like it’s being pierced by a thousand spears and your body feels like a tonnes of brick are crushing down on it. your legs, they’re shackled by the marriage you refused to nullify and rather teeter on a tightrope on in a guise of a break. separation. whatever they call it.

jimin’s crestfallen expression burns at the back of your mind and jungkook’s tear stained face etches itself at the back of your mind.

one chosen and the other destined.

one loved and the other, you can feel yourself falling for.

but you know better than to prolong both of their sufferings just because the young adult version of you thought you had the excuse of leaving anything and everything for your other half at your disposal. but lies upon lies built up into truths.

“i met him at a restaurant i was supposed to meet a client at,” you explained to the man with dark circles around his eyes and looking lesser than you’d last saw him.

but you probably didn’t look all that flattering either. throwing on what clean clothes you found in your closet and barely able to apply makeup before you left.

“he knows i’m married - he saw the ring.” it still wraps around your finger like a miniature cuff. a promise. a vow.

jungkook’s is missing, a lighter hue marking the spot where his ring finger should be.

“so you’ll finally sign the divorce papers?” his usually velvet voice sounds much harsher. as though he hadn’t used it in awhile. as though his throat had been filled with alcohol instead of words.

“what is it with you and acting like your time’s up? you said...” you have to take a well-needed breath to recenter, “you said you’d never leave,” if it was you from three months ago, you would have wept and cried like a baby. but at the moment, all that’s left is dried up tears and chilled anger.

but perhaps, jungkook’s is the shade of blue. a sort of flame that looked like it would burn less if not at all until you learn that it’s more fatal than its amber counterpart.

“yeah but weren’t you looking for a way out?” he laughs, the sound almost scratching against your ear drums like sand paper, “i always wondered when you’d stop this whole act... maybe feel a little guilty for tricking me... but your sleeves are full of those, huh?”

tricks, he means.

the last piece of your heart drops straight to the ground.

“what are you-” and yet you still try.

“don’t pretend like you’re all innocent!” the cups on the table shakes when he slams his fist down on the smooth surface. but when he doubles over, hands pressed against his eyes as though physically trying to push the tears back, the heart you thought you’d lost in this long, emotional battle - with whom, you’re not sure - begins to clench painfully.

jungkook might as well tear your chest apart and take the organ in his hands and crush it.

“it’s true, i was never sure if i truly loved you,” the confession is overdue. perhaps even lacking in so many aspects, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?

“but i’m tired of second guessing - i... i want to grow old with you... i want us to buy that barn and start raising chickens and milking cows and adopt a bunch of cats and dogs,” the tears you thought have dried out are now pouring like waterfall, “two’s a family. two and a bunch of cats and dogs’s a family.”

your eyes hurt from the way you wipe your tears with the back of your hand but your heart aches more as you watch your husband try so hard to hold back his own tears, “i’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

you’re undeserving of his forgiveness and yet when he goes around you and gather you in his arms, you cry and cling onto him like he’s about to fade away any moment.

“i love you, goddamn it,” he curses before kissing the top of your head, “i fucking love you.”

“you think i don’t?” you manage to force out, trying to glare but failing spectacularly as you weep harder, hands crunching his sweatshirt in your grasp.

truth.

fucking truth.

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fangslikedaggers · 5 years ago

Photo

❝ he was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges – sharp jaw, lean build, wool coat snug across his shoulders. ❞

huh, who’s DAVID CORENSWET? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually ALAIN LESTOAT. he is a TWENTY FOUR year old PART-VAMPIRE wizard who is an UNSPEAKABLE. he is known for being RETICENT, MERCURIAL, ALOOF, EVASIVE, and DECADENT but also CHIVALROUS, ADROIT, PRAGMATIC, DEBONAIR, and INTUITIVE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song THAT’S OKAY BY THE HUSH SOUND and THREE PIECE SUITS, LONE MATTRESS IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT, CODED NOTEBOOKS, INK-STAINED HANDS, BLACK COFFEE GONE COLD, UNSENT POSTCARDS, OLD TABACCO PIPE, SOFT DIMPLED GRINS, PERFECTLY COIFFED HAIR, ÉDITH PIAF RECORDS ON LOW, and RED LEATHER GLOVES. i hear he is aligned with NO ONE, so be sure to keep an eye on him.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Alain Danet Lestoat NICKNAME(S): some people call him ‘Drac’ for some reason, but he prefers to simply be called Alain AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 24, 09/19/2005 (will update graphic soon) OCCUPATION: Unspeakable, works in the Death Chamber most days GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England ALMA MATTER: Beauxbatons BLOOD STATUS: Part-Vampire (1/4th) / Halfblood

BIOGRAPHY

If you’ve ever had a chocolate frog, then there’s a great chance you’ve heard the name Lestoat. Among the many trading cards you can find in the packaged confection there is one for an Amarillo Lestoat, a vampire born at the same time that America declared its Independence, immortalized on enchanted cardstock. Amarillo’s rise to fame came with a single piece of literature which the vampire had published during his two hundred and one years. A Vampire’s Monologue, a mind numbingly boring read that offered the vampire a way to disable his victims so he could feed off them without trouble. It’s a story that has followed his grandson Alain throughout his twenty six years -- a fact that isn’t exactly welcome to the 1/4 Part-Vampire.

Alain Danet Lestoat was born on a cold and murky September day in the commune of Eguisheim in Haut-Rhin to Marguerite Babineaux, a pureblooded witch whose family was one of the most prominent pureblood families in France during the 20th century, and her Part-Vampire husband Alexander Lestoat; the unexpectedly conceived son of the bore himself. Amarillo had no intention of fathering halfbreed offspring, but was surprised only ten years prior to his death to find out he’d impregnated a young witch he’d used his book on during a trip to Madrid, thus beginning the equally magical and vampiric lineage of the writer. Sometimes Alain wishes the man had managed to keep to this plan. From the moment he opened his eyes to the world he was instantly met with hardships and difficult hurdles to overcome.

From his father’s side Alain had inherited a severe allergy to garlic, an acute aversion to direct sunlight, canines that were far too long and awkward for braces, and, of course, a slight penchant for the taste of blood. For her part, Marguerite had managed to pass down dark, thick curls and dimpled smiles, but that was not enough to quell the sort of fear that one got whenever he flashed a toothy grin at them. In Eguisheim, among the non-magical denizens, it was important for the Lestoats to stay incognito. Wixen could hide easily among the non-magical, ashen complexed and fanged Vampires could hardly do the same. As such, his childhood was rather isolated and sheltered. He spent most of his days roaming the rather large manor house they had acquired on the edge of town, reading the vast collection of books his two-centuries-old grandfather had left in his father’s possession, consuming knowledge about the world outside he could seldom take part in.

It wouldn’t be until he’d received his invitation to study at his mother’s alma matter that he would get to see the outside world. With its sprawling gardens, never-melting ice sculptures and enchanting fountains, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic felt more like it belonged among Perrault’s stories than in the real world, and yet it was very real. Equal parts excited and horrifyingly nervous, Alain travelled to the secluded chateau to begin his education. His only hope was that among the magical folk of France he would be able to be more readily accepted. He was only a fourth vampire after all -- he was more like the other wixen around him, how could they abhor him? Disappointment would soon become a constant acquaintance for him. All it had taken was one excitedly large toothy grin to a fellow first year within the first minutes of the welcome feast and Alain’s reputation had been set. Leech. Bloodsucker. Monster. All desperately unfair labels since, as he constantly reminded others, he was more wizard than vampire, but it hadn’t mattered. Having knives for teeth was enough to cause anyone to instantly write him off as a danger and liability.

After a particularly disastrous first year, including a rather humiliating question-and-answer session during a DADA class, he had sworn he would turn his back on the wizarding world and never come back. I’ll run away into the words, become the Bête in an enchanted castle and make friends out of the utensils I’ll steal from maman’s cupboard. It hadn’t been until Alexander intervened, having gone through a rough schooling experience himself, that Alain would be comfortable with returning to the academy. You’ll just have to prove to them they’re wrong by showing what kind of person you are. It was with this advice that Alain would come back year after year, despite the harassment from his classmates, in order to study. He had resolved to be the best wizard he could. He studied hard -- an easy feat since he was rarely invited along to field trips or outings with his classmates -- excelled at his academics and managed to be top of his class. Despite the naysayers, he’d graduated from Beauxbatons with top honors, and plenty of prestigious internships and job proposals to choose from. Tired of the isolation of both his small commune and the secluded chateau, he had taken what he felt was the most lucrative option -- an internship with the Bureaux des Mystéres in the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France.

It wasn’t a particularly glamorous position -- he mostly helped file nonsensical reports. He wasn’t allowed anywhere near the actual Chambers within, but he’d caught on quickly enough to know that some really interesting and important stuff happened in there. Why else didn’t anyone talk about it? When he was able to, he applied to become an Unspeakable trainee and before long he was finally setting foot inside those elusive rooms and learning their secrets. He could be trusted to keep them; he was never one to socialize anyway. Who was he going to tell? The only person who was ever privy to his intimate thoughts was his little sister Amélie, and she was still too little to have discussions about his job. Quickly, he’d come to find the secretive and confidential world within those chambers were far more comforting than the vast world outside. His hunger for knowledge about the things he was studying had lead him to submit an application for another Ministry of Magic across the channel. It was said that in the UK they had made more headway with the types of things that were being studied within their own Department of Mysteries, and Alain was desperate to understand everything. When he’d gotten a response back from their Department head eagerly welcoming him to the team, he left first thing and didn’t once look back. France had already taught him enough, it was time to find something more on other shores.

He’s been in the UK for only a year and a half now, and most of the time he’s spent sitting before a stone arch and shroud, listening to voices calling to him. The Death Chamber. There was something kind of funny about a vampire studying death, but Alain doesn’t care. Each day more mysteries open up to him, keeping him from sleeping and eating as his mind reels with everything. He’s been so occupied with his highly secretive work that he hadn’t noticed the climate changing around him. As a foreigner he understood the past conflicts in England in a textual sense. The Wizarding Wars and the Death Eaters were footnotes in his textbooks, a foreign problem to learn from. They weren’t close to home or part of his own history, so he hadn’t given them much thought. When a string of high prolific deaths began taking place they were sad, no doubt, but not warning bells of something dark to come. As such, he hasn’t taken a side. Per his letters home, he insists that should things become grim in England then he will secure a portkey back to France and resume his post in the Ministére, but Alain figures that whatever is happening will eventually de-escalate. Hadn’t they stopped a rise in dark wizardry in this country a matter of decades prior?

ok so basically: alain is an introverted part-vampire who migrated to london about a year and half prior to start of game to work at the department of mysteries in the ministry. he started his career as an unspeakable in france’s ministry but is eager to learn more than he thinks was capable back in his homeland.

BULLYING AND SLIGHT NON CON TW. generally he’s kind of introverted and keeps to himself; this is because he was harassed and bullied a lot as a beauxbatons student for being “halfbreed”. he’s 1/4 vampire and the grandson of a famous vampire writer, a legacy he really hates. in particular he hates that he’s 1. labelled as a monster by ignorant people (he lives off regular food, thank you very much) but also 2. if people know about his grandfather, then they know he wrote a boring af book and in a shady way to get people to submit to him for feeding. kinda feels non-consensual ya know??

PHOBIA MENTION TW as both a vampire and a frenchman, he dresses impeccably, so he’s usually seen around in long trench coats and thin tailored suits. he wears red leather gloves as both a fashion statement and also because he is a bit of a germaphobe. he won’t divulge details but this has to do with a vicious prank that was done to him when he was a student. he was kinda carrie’d if ya feel me.

despite an air of decadence and debonair, he’s kind of poor (rip) and lives in a dingy little shoebox flat where he sleeps on a barren mattress and eats instant ramen and boxed wine for dinner. most of his money goes towards his closet or to his family back home, who doesn’t really need it but he loves spoiling his little sister so he would rather fund her life than his own. claims he’s making enough to live elegantly so they don’t realize he’s a l i a r.

look he’s gonna be a bit of a hard egg to crack but i promise once he is cracked he’s charming and sweet and a loyal good friend so pls don’t give up on his interactions if he’s aloof and distant ;-; give the boy a chance.

idk i’ll probably add to this as I think of stuff; it’s 3 am lmao

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteromantic LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish, Some German FAMILY: Alexander Amarillo Lestoat (father, b. 1967 in Madrid, Spain), Marguerite Celeste Lestoat neé Babineaux (mother, b. 1981 in Mulhouse, France), Amélie Marguerite Lestoat (sister, b. 2011 in Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France), Amarillo Lestoat † (grandfather, b. 1776 in Philadelphia, America, died 1977 in Madrid, Spain; vampire and author of a vampire’s monologue) PETS: Barn Owl named Archimedes and Black Kneazle named Persephone FACE CLAIM: David Corenswet ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo MBTI: TBD PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

tbh i have nothing in mind so just hmu if you have ideas. if not, we will brain storm :)

bonus:

alain danet lestoat, beauxbatons first year c. 2017. ignore that wonky ass eye i’m too lazy to fix it

#potterintro #&& about.#spent my weekend drawing while babysitting #so i decided to make a thing #obviously he's not gray skinned; that was a stylistic choice #i can't make graphics so this is my way of making up for that #afeafea #i'm also sorry this is so poorly written; i literally attempted to write this while babysitting which was ahfiehapfea hard

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sushihail15-blog · 5 years ago

Text

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rionsanura · 6 years ago

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@jadefyre said: hello yes I would like the deets of how the POTC theme evokes the swashbucklery so amazingly please

@mochuelita replied to your post: I am HERE for the swashbuckle deets

@jackironsides replied to your post: Will you divulge the secrets??

Oh I will absolutely try. I have no perspective about how much anyone knows about music, so I am likely going to vacillate wildly between explaining basic concepts in insulting detail and glossing over things that seem obvious to me but may not be, but I love this damb song so much that I am bout to EXPLAIN IT SO HARD. (Pls let me know the degree of unintelligibility you encounter here, and in what deet, and I will try to ameliorate.)

This glorious Hans Zimmer/Klaus Badelt/Geoff Zanelli thrill, the crowning achievement of hollywood pirate music, named, appropriately, He's A Pirate, is a deep and riotous well of perfectly executed brain-melting techniques. Welcome to my Deet Tour. The biggest categories of secrets here are

1. hemiola 2. augmentation(**) 3. orchestration 4. modal borrowing 5. cadential rhythm

So the biggest and most important rhythmic secret anyone can ever learn has a name that sounds hilariously like either an unfortunate blood disease or an unfortunate Ancient Greek poet. But it is Life and Greatness; it is the secret that makes compound time magic, and I am such a huge sucker for it that back when facebook was an exciting new platform that had just been opened to a few schools outside the ivy league, including mine, back when fb groups were a form of self-expression and not a freebooting nightmare, I made a facebook group called "If Hemiola Were A Person, We'd Be Married." Yes. And 17 of my closest music school friends joined, because hemiola is really that great.

Here is what it means: you are in compound time (a kind of meter that has beats made of 3 smaller beats). You arrange those tiny beats into groups of 2 instead.* Like this:

| | | | | | -> | | | | | |

Think of the coolest thing about the rhythm in the classic Theory 101 hemiola demonstration standby, America from West Side Story. It goes onetwothree onetwothree onetwo onetwo onetwo. That's one way to hemiola. The most obvious way, very good, very satisfying.

A more advanced (and more connotatively piratical, but we'll get to that in a bit) way to hemiola is to do the 3 and the 2 at the SAME TIME. This can be in different instruments, or in the same instrument at different points in the melody of the same bar; the options are endless. You end up with a rhythm that, devil take it, can only reasonably be called Rollicking. Is it in 3? Is it in 2? DOESN'T MATTER. IT'S HEMIOLA. IT'S IN BOTH. Listen to the A section of He's a Pirate; it has everything that can possibly be in both 3 and 2 going on at once. The melody, played by some forthright horns and low strings, has a rhythm that mostly divides the bar into 3, while still keeping the pickup subdivision that makes you feel like the little beats are in 2 big groups of 3. I'll write the rhythm out with periods for rests and pipes for played beats and divide them into the groups I hear them in, with big spaces between the bars: (...) .|| |. |. || |. |. || |. |. || ||. .|| |. |. || |. |. || |. |. || |.. .|| |. |. || |. |. || |. |. || ||. .|| |. |. |. ||. .|| |. |. || |.. ...

The most ambiguous thing here is the middle beat of the bar, the 4th one if you're counting it in 6 (2nd if you're in 2, 1.5 if you're in 3). This whole melody hinges on that empty beat. Is it part of the second note? Or is it a springboard for the last two notes? Is it an on-beat or an offbeat? IT'S HEMIOLA. IT'S BOTH. MAGIC. Obviously some bars will be easier to hear in 2 (the fourth bar at end of each phrase, for example, which starts with two notes in a row with no space between, and a really emphatic drum hit on beat 4 (or 2, or 1.5) while no notes are happening). Some are easier to hear in 3; the rest of the phrase, besides the fourth bar, has at least two notes per bar that sounds like they should be grouped in Big Three (two little beats per group). The best part about it, and what makes the Rollicking so successful (one might even say, as OP did, that it is Jaunty) is that for most of these bars, it is equally easy to hear them in 3 or in 2. The British Isles, particularly the bits that the English tried and failed to assimilate, are deeply associated with this kind of rhythmic ambiguity. In fact the wikipedia example of what an Irish drum (bodhrán) sounds like is mostly composed of 6/8 hemiola, and though it's not the best playing I've ever heard, it is a good example of the rhythms usually played on that drum.

I'm counting the climactic bit that sounds like cutlass swipes (there's our Swashbuckling) about 0:33-0:46 as a B section. Why does it buckle the swash? Because all the beats of the melody have been occupied so far in this tune, and now there are big holes. Are they still hemiola? Yes. It's just the slightly more obvious kind that switches back and forth between 2 and 3 beats per bar in one voice instead of both at once through ambiguous beat 4 (or 2 or 1.5):

|.. .|| |.. ... |.. ... ||. |.. |.. .|| |. |. |. |.. .|| |. |. |. ||. ... |. |. |. ||. ... |. |. |. |.. .(||) (the last two pipes here are the pickup to the C section and can be counted as rests for the purposes of the B section)

But don't worry, both kinds of subdivision are still happening everywhere else. It's a mechanically complex but simply majestic pearl of a tune.

Which brings us to Secret #2: augmentation. This is why we feel the buckle is swashed atop the bowsprit, rather than anywhere else on board. This one is Particularly Secret, because to be honest there is no literal augmentation going on in this song, just the implication of it.** This might be a bit harder to explain.

The C section of this song, starting at 0:45 right after the cutlass swipes, goes rhythmically like this (basically two times in a row, with different notes the second time):

(||) |.. .|| |. |. |. |. |. |. |.. .|| |.. .|| |. |. |. |. .. |. |.. (...)

Look how many groups of unambiguous 3 there are in this horn melody! With big holes in the rest of the bars! This makes the melody sound slower, because not as many small notes in a row are being played, even though there are still the same underlying rhythms happening in the drums and the accompanying figures that are not the melody. It's like we're on the top of the ship instead of underneath in the waves being bashed on the hull by all the little chops and splashes we hear in the drums and cellos. We can see/hear those little subdivisions, we're just not involved in them right now: this is how we become majestic. The drums are definitively in 2, which emphasizes the moments when the melody is more 3ish. The bass line and accompanimental figures are ambiguous.

This brings us to Secret #3: orchestration.

The magnificence and high wind (which causes rough seas) are indeed related to some cellos. The swash wouldn't be nearly so all-encompassing if the orchestrators hadn't picked the instruments they picked (I'm not sure who orchestrated this particular moment of the soundtrack; see the wikipedia entry on the 7 different composers hired to orchestrate this score because of weird production reasons). There is an ASTONISHINGLY small number of kinds of instruments used in this song considering the forces available in an orchestra, and all but the cellos, horns, basses, and drums are basically decorations on top of the main tune.

Here is the obvious thing: it's very low. Cellos are pretty low instruments, basses are Really low instruments, horns have the capability to go high but do not do it in this song, and drums have no exact pitch but most of the ones used in this piece for the main beats are low in frequency with occasional high crashy sounds for emphasis. Cellos, and I don't think I'm making this up, I've read association studies, sound like wood. Horns are used in hollywood scores (and for hundreds of years before movies were invented) for noble and majestic melodies, associated with noble and majestic characters and environments and qualities (check out some Wagner for more information about the association of melodies with story elements before movies were invented). This is the deet where we start thinking about notes instead of just rhythms.

It is pretty unusual for notes so low to be so fast. A gem of an aphorism I picked up in high-school-orchestra rehearsals (from the director, no less): "an octave lower, an octave slower." (This was usually meant as a gentle tease to the bass section for not playing their part right, or on time, but it works as an explanation of normal orchestration principles.) We don't expect our driving, foundational bass frequencies to move from note to note so fast. Usually if they do, it's an exceptional showoff moment in a bigger orchestral context where the violins or other high instruments are doing the rest of the fast stuff. Here, the violins are just doubling the low strings to emphasize them when the melody is repeated; the high strings aren't even playing all the time. What this means is that the low instruments are showing off all the time, so it's very drivy and feels much faster than it would if just the high instruments were doing the tune.

It's also one of the reasons the song is foreboding; very low notes, punctuated with high shrieky interjections (like the violin swashes in the cutlass section), is the technique used in horror scoring, which we have been conditioned to associate with something scary. Also I think there is some science there.

Another reason it is a bit foreboding (though other sections of the soundtrack are More Foreboding, for example Fog Bound but we're just talking about the main theme in this post) is Secret #4: modal borrowing.

Let's be clear here, there's nothing Super Weird going on in this melody modally, but there are several ways to do a minor scale, and it takes advantage of more than one. Minor keys have a surprising amount of options regarding what notes to use after the fifth scale degree; you can have a low 6 and 7 (often used coming down the scale), or a high 6 and 7 (usually for going up), or low 6 and high 7 (this is often used to sound middle-eastern) or a high 6 and low 7 (this is not often used, since low 6 is good for tension in that half-step going to the 5th degree, but if it is used, it sounds folky and maybe Old). This array of usual options means you don't really have to borrow much to have both kinds of 6th and 7th scale degrees, but the fact that the melody so frequently emphasizes the low 7 (whole step between 7 and 1, instead of half) makes it sound modal and British-folk-ish. Listen to some jigs (Butterfly, for example) or reels (like this whole set of them) or really any minor-key Irish or Scottish folk music and you'll find it has low 7.

This frequent low 7th scale degree means the chord that starts on the 5th scale degree, usually called the V chord in classical parlance, is in fact in this situation the v chord, because it's minor. That's modal borrowing! The minor v chord is not really native to any mode, because usually we make the V chord major even if 7 is low in the scale, but we call it borrowing anyway. It is a particular kind of sound where the drive of the five chord to the one chord is less strong, because the low 7 doesn't want quite as badly to lead to 1. This makes the chord more atmospheric than functional, and it might be more foreboding this way. It's not rare, it's not exceptional, but it is definitely associated with the British Isles (more the 19th century than the 17th, but fewer people know actual 17th century tunes) and folk music and sea chanties etc. This may be how we know it's the jolly roger flapping from the mast.

However! The tune also has moments of high 7! And this means V is major sometimes! Like the end of the A section before it repeats slightly differently (0:17). The fact that both of these chords exist in this tune makes it even borrowier, because usually you get only one of these kinds of five chord. But sometimes we have major V, which makes it More Climactic, the spectacular flaps of the jolly roger.

The last Secret I would like to relate is #5: cadential rhythm. This is the reason we have any actual association with the 17th century instead of the 19th (most piratey music anyone knows is from the 19th century).

Cadences (a cadence is the way a phrase ends) have been classified over the centuries, in terms of both rhythm and melody, into two kinds. They are conventionally called masculine and feminine, or strong and weak, but those are bullshit names so I am calling them direct and indirect. A direct cadence lands on the downbeat, and probably on the root of the chord. An indirect cadence lands after the downbeat, and so the first note of the bar isn't the cadential note; the note after it is.

The way He's A Pirate uses indirect cadential rhythm is especially emphatic. The very first phrase (0:05-0:08) cadences on the second tiny beat of the bar instead of the first. Since the tiny beats go real fast, it's very obvious how the phrase lands on Not The Big Beat. The tinier the beats are, the more emphatic the syncopation is. BUT THEN: the second phrase cadences directly (0:08-0:11). It goes back and forth between direct and indirect until the end of the A section when we have two indirects in a row, which makes the direct (on major V, no less!) last one especially swashbuckly.

Here is a playlist of 17th century English songs (mostly in compound time), the first of which is also full of hemiola, many (especially the third, 14th, 15th and 16th) of which have indirect cadences at the end of nearly every phrase. The switching back and forth between the two kinds of cadential rhythm is really important to the piratical nature of this song, contributes to the jauntiness, and has actual connections to historical 17th century tunes (though this cadential strategy is also common in the 19th century sea folk tunes people are more likely to know). BEHOLD THE GALLEON.

I hope that these Secrets have been Revealed. If my explanatory techniques have been too obscure, please do ask me about things you find unclear; I larve this song to tiny tiny bits and would be delighted to explain it forever.

*Or the other way around. Hemiola just means messing with the subdivision of beats, regrouping them either from 2 to 3 or 3 to 2. OR BOTH AT ONCE YAAASSSS. also you don’t necessarily have to be in compound time (which is subdivided into 3); you can be in any meter, as long as you are regrouping things between 2 and 3. it’s just easiest and most rollicking when you’re in, for example, 6/8 or 9/8. **Despite my 11 years of music school, I have not found a better inaccurate but explicative term for this technique, but let me explain to you what augmentation actually is, so that you know why this isn't exactly augmentation. When you make a melody twice as slow but with the exact same thing happening, that's real augmentation. Like if in the original melody from my first dumb rhythmic transcription had values of quarter notes instead of eighth notes; if it just sounded slower with the rest of everything going the same speed. Obviously the melody in the C section is not the same as the A section, and it does not actually use values that are twice that of the A section, but it expands the beat to feel slower in a way that is compatible with the flexible ambiguous 2 or 3 subdivision of compound time.

#jadefyre #mochuelita #jackironsides #copperbadge #anybody else who was interested #music nerdery #potc

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adelyn-talks-vgm · 6 years ago

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OST #4 - Wave Race 64

Wave Race 64 Developer: Nintendo EAD Publisher: Nintendo Composer: Kazumi Totaka Released September 27, 1996

playlist

wait totaka wrote this?!?! oh, we are in for a GOOD time...

(sorry this one is out so late, had some things come up the past couple days and couldn’t find the time for this! also be aware that as a result of being stretched out over a little less than a week, this post might be a bit all over the place, so sorry in advance!)

wave race 64 was the first game to come out after the launch titles in japan (and in the US), and was a pretty big hit all-around. i never played it myself, nor had i even heard the soundtrack before doing this, hence why i never realized that it was written by kazumi totaka, one of my favorite nintendo composers of the ‘90s. as such, i was very excited to take a dive into this to see whether it holds up to the standard of his other works. does it? let’s listen!

youtube

here in the title theme, totaka provides us with a catchy and memorable melody line over this nice driving rock beat, with a cheerful chord progression to boot, and also presents to us what is all but a totaka staple: a recurring theme, a simple-but-effective way to brew a sense of familiarity within the soundtrack (and also a very easy way to save creative energy when writing!). this theme sees reuse in a number of other songs, including “options” and all of the “prize” songs (1st - 2nd - 3rd - 4th), and also to an extent the “score” music. the ending music also goes into this category, but i’ll hold onto that for the end, as is typical fashion for these posts.

what makes all these songs really cool is how much variety there is in all of their takes on a single melodic line - this can apply to any totaka soundtrack, really. take for example “options”: in contrast to the title theme’s rock beat, this one just goes straight bossa, with some nicely accented aux percussion, some very specific chord progressions, and that classic “bummmm-bum-bummmm-bum” bass that defines the genre. “score” is actually basically the same thing with more liberties taken on the melody to keep the piece short.

then we’ve got the “prize” songs, which have quickly become my favorite uses of this main theme. the “1st prize” song holds a lot in common with the source in terms of style but has not only a furiously slappin’ bass, but also takes some liberties in the chords to give it a different flavor of sound, and it’s just - MMMMm. love it.

“2nd prize” takes a completely different approach, with these very ‘80s-reminiscent disco-rock-type sound, with a driving bass, all kinds of guitars, and SO many synths. an oddly-fitting step down from 1st prize in terms of style.

“3rd prize” is also interesting, being disco again, but this time more disco than before, with a piano lead, an organ at points, and some good ol’ sine arpeggios hovering in the back, managing to be just a bit more mellow than 2nd prize.

“4th prize” is the only logical next step: a ballad. it’s got it all: rhodes outlining the somewhat sentimental chord progression, the bass playing 1-2 notes per measure, the drums consisting of a hi-hat and nothing else, and a nice piano to top it off. this whole piece is as laid back as it oughta be.

there’s actually a couple more i didn’t catch at first in the course themes, like “sunset bay” and to an extent “glacier coast”, and to a much greater extent “southern island”

now, with all this motific stuff outta the way, let’s get into the bulk of the music and take a look at some of the aforementioned course themes!

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this one just screams totaka, the guy just has such a distinct style to his work that i love oh so much. something about the way he writes melodies is just so good, and you already know how much i care about chords, this being no exception - totaka progressions are always real nice, more complex than average but still simple enough to fit good melodies.

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this next one of note, “milky lake” (also known as “drake lake” apparently), is also pretty cool, starting off with what seems like a 4/4 rhythm before immediately dipping into 6/8, a subversion of expectations that i can always appreciate. it’s a nice little song, kind of evokes the same “nintendo sports game music” feel that i mentioned back on the pilotwings post at points. good tune

youtube

this one, “marine fortress”, is also pretty evocative of the totaka style in terms of melody, with that classic riff at around 5 seconds in (C Eb G Gb) and other variations thereof being particularly prevalent in totaka’s other work, especially in songs based around wario (1, 2, 3). it also has big slappy and you know how i feel about big slappy. this song is also a bit on the harder side of rock in terms of this game’s music, as is “port blue”, giving some nice contrast in style to the soundtrack overall

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some other songs of note: - “sunny beach” adopts a similar rock-style that many other pieces in this soundtrack do but still sounds pretty cool, also has big slappy - “twilight city” is a really cool mix of latin-type music and disco and i kinda love it, the beginning reminds me of earth wind & fire’s “september” (funny enough, it’s actually the 21st night of september as i’m posting this!) - “glacier coast” sounds like that kind of music that accompanies flying levels in platforming games, especially with those strings and flute in the beginning, but then it goes into some cool stuff with a sound that i universally recognize as the kirby bell sample. really cool sounding tune all around - the goal songs are pretty great too, with “1st goal” just being slap city, and having some really interesting musical content for being such a short loop. “2nd goal” is similarly a jam surprisingly, totaka really knows how to make small loops count. “3rd goal” is almost just a faster 2nd goal, and “4th goal” is STUPID laid back, all of them have a great sound to them.

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this final arrangement of the main theme ties things up pretty nicely, with some good ol’ melancholy progressions, but i wish it was as long as it made itself out to be in the beginning.

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as i’d stated before, i went into this with pretty high expectations on how this would sound knowing the composer. did this live up to those? i would say... yeah, a bit. it’s certainly a totaka soundtrack, with some good ol’ totaka tunes, although i feel like some tracks are less...memorable? mostly the course themes, which is funny because those don’t use the main theme as much, so they kind of outline totaka’s strengths in a way. who knows, though - my opinion of these songs has varied a lot over the course of the 5-6 days it took to write this, so even i’m not sure if i know completely what i’m talking about!

in the end, i’d say overall the soundtrack is very much worth a listen, but whether or not the tracks stick with you might be up to personal taste (or whether you’ve played the game before).

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thank you very much for reading! if you have any questions, feedback, or thoughts you’d like to share, send me a message and i’ll try to get to it as soon as i can. check back here next time for Mortal Kombat Trilogy!!

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RESULTS:

Top 3 Tracks: 1. 1st Goal (how did a loop manage to beat out 20+ other songs) 2. Twilight City 3. Glacier Coast

FINAL SCORE: 8.5/10

#vgm #video game music #nintendo 64 #N64 #n64 ost ratings #wave race 64 #kazumi totaka

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themildestofwriters · 6 years ago

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Writing Ask Game

Thanks to the magnificent @gottaenjoythelittlethingzz for tagging me in this wonderful little tag.

I don’t think I’m going to choose one WIP rather just the universe itself – The Divine Intervention universe. By that, I mean I’ll be doing it for these two novels I’m working on: Divine Intervention or: What Comes After Immortality? & The Trials and Tribulations of a Virgin Goddess.

1. Describe the plot in one sentence.

Divine Intervention or: What Comes After Immortality?

A goddess and a girl meet at a bus stop and while things are a bit awkward at first, they soon begin hitting it off and begin regular correspondence, however, there’s something more lurking under the surface that neither of them wish to peruse and that one thing is forgiveness and love respectively.

The Trials and Tribulations of a Virgin Goddess

Sex and Babette go together as well as water and oil, yet it was not always this way and in this story she decides to heal herself, to improve herself, and to choose love over her almost selfish desire to dwell on the past and wallow in a pit of guilt and suffering.

2. Pick one sight, smell, sound, feel, and taste to describe the aesthetic of your novel.

Divine Intervention or: What Comes After Immortality?

Flashes of blood, death and gore in the small hours of the night. The smell of petrichor as rain descends. The sound of deathly silence. The feel of soft arms holding you tightly. The metallic taste of blackened blood coughed from the lungs.

The Trials and Tribulations of a Virgin Goddess

Bodies intertwined in a lover’s embrace. The smell of lust in the air. The sound of ceaseless screaming. The feel of suffocating pain and smooth stone. The bittersweet taste of lip balm.

3. Which 3+ songs would make up a playlist for the novel?

Because I’m not very knowledgeable on music myself, this list is filled only with songs I have on my phone.

Divine Intervention or: What Comes After Immortality?

“Viva La Vida” by Coldplay; “Accidentally In Love” by Counting Crows; “Superman (It’s Not Easy)” by Five for Fighting; “Stressed Out” by Twenty-One Pilots; “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran

The Trials and Tribulations of a Virgin Goddess

“Somewhere Over The Rainbow” by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole; “All of Me” by John Legend; “Let Her Go” by Passenger; “Like A Virgin” by Madonna; “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri

4. What’s the time period and location in which the novel takes place.

Both books take place in the modern era and mostly in Salisbury/Adelaide, South Australia. WCAI? takes place in 2016 and TTVG takes place in 2017. However, at least specifically in TTVG, it does take place in other countries with Babette visiting Japan, America and perhaps even England as either a part of her job (Street Performer) or as the plot demands.

5. Is this a standalone or a part in a series?

Well…

6. Are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded?

For WCAI? I only had Divine Interruption and for TTVG there was “Babette Visits A Sex Shop” “Babette Visits An Adult Shop” and The Weird and Wonderful Sexual Awakening of Babette Mewlyn.

7. What’s the first line of your novel?

I have a tendency to only have a single line to begin a book.

Divine Intervention or: What Comes After Immortality?

“The sky was a dark crimson haze.”

“It was supposed to be a bright and sunny Saturday morning in suburban Adelaide.”

The Trials and Tribulations of a Virgin Goddess

“We had planned this for nearly an entire week now and today was the day.”

8. What’s a dialogue you’re particularly proud of?

“ “心配しないで,” she said, a devilish smirk twisting onto her lips. “少なくとも見るかわいく、ジョセフィーン様.” “ – Divine Intervention or: What Comes After Immortality? Chapter 2(draft)

If you’ve got a problem with my Japanese, please tell me because I’m winging it on Google Translate and outdated information.

“ “It—it hurts.” It took all my power to just say that and once I did, I was hit by a new wave of grief—of agony—of heart-rending guilt. ” – The Trials and Tribulations of Babette Melwyn Chapter 3(draft)

9. Which line from the novel most represents it as a whole?

“It—it hurts.”

10. Who are your character faceclaims?

Babette… well, I’m tossing up between these girls: Jaimie Alexander; Abbey Lee Kershaw; Amanda Seyfried; Astrid Berges-Frisbey; Zoey Deutch; and Willa Holland.

For Josephine, she’s a bit difficult to find a face claim for. If you’d like to help, that would be appreciated but so far, I’ve not found anything that fits her yet.

11. Sort your characters into Harry Potter houses!

Babette Melwyn – Slytherin

Josephine Williams – Hufflepuff

Henrietta Phillips – Ravenclaw

Maria Camhain-Schmidt – Gryffindor

Kurt Schmidt – Gryffindor

Flynn Camhain-Schmidt – Hufflepuff

Adrien Williams – Hufflepuff

Samuel Meric – Gryffindor

Sofía Meric – Hufflepuff

Harrison Williams – Ravenclaw

Alyssa Williams – Gryffindor

Samantha Bailey – Ravenclaw

12. Which character’s name do you like the most?

Respectfully, I love them all, specifically the girl’s names. Henrietta, Josephine, Babette, Alyssa, Maria, Sofía.

13. Describe each character’s daily outfit.

Babette Melwyn; Babette’s daily outfit could be summarised as well cared for rags with a history with radioactivity. By this I mean, Babette hasn’t changed out of the dress she wore when a group of revolutionaries decided to nuke her. While incredibly old, magic makes a great cleaner and preserver for the cloth and during the course of this novel, she’s usually seen wearing it often. It’s a plain black form fitting V-neck dress with long sleeves that reach up to her hands. The skirt used to be long and flowing, but since being nuked, it’s much shorter, ending around her calves—jagged and looking like some kind of tattered flower blooming from her waist down.

Aside from the dress, she wears leather strapped calf-high sandals and her ruby necklace—her ruby necklace is a constant with every single last outfit she wears.

After settling down on Earth, she finds herself wearing other bits and pieces. She feels comfortable outside her tattered remains and has a small wardrobe filled with a verity of clothing. Her aesthetic could best be described as gothic and Victorian gothic. Expect lots of lacy black dresses of varying lengths along with several sundresses and perhaps a few gowns. Hats are usually wide-brimmed and floppy, and she will not wear heels.

Josephine Williams; Josephine doesn’t have a daily outfit because she’s a normal person who doesn’t have a set outfit and often changes as the clothes she wore previously gets dirty. However, she has that kind of… art student vibe to her, befitting her artistic inclination, though she does were certain jewellery or outfits that have a certain Hellenic aesthetic. What you’ll mostly see her around in is either some kind of cardigan, perhaps a really large jumper while wearing a dress, whether short or long with some leggings underneath. She mixes it up, shirts and shorts, pants and with different colours as well. She keeps her options wide and varied but if you spent enough time with her and paid attention, you’d notice similarities.

Heels, like her girlfriend, is a no-no, but her outfits are certainly more colourful then Babette’s who prefers black and occasionally other colours.

14. Do any characters have distinctive birthmarks/scars?

Babette has a lot of scars but specifically there’s the scars across her heart—two, specifically, one on her back and on her chest, both from being impaled by a weapon that wiped out all life in a galaxy. It wasn’t fun getting that one.

Josephine once had a scar on her calf, but I think she might not have any major scars nor any tattoos—yet. I might give her a distinctive back tattoo that’s basically a string of astronomical symbols which relate to the Underworld in Greek Mythology.

15. Which character most fits a character trope?

I wouldn’t be able to say for sure but I’m sure that Babette and Josephine both fit into a character trope/archetype.

16. Which character is the best writer? Worst?

Babette, hands down. Babette’s not so good at writing songs and whatnot but she’s an academic and a Bard, having transcribed ancient texts, her own stories and a few she’s plagiarised from Earth because Earth Copyright doesn’t exist outside of Earth. Out of the main characters, I’d say that Josephine isn’t so good at the writing of things and prefers visual art. Like, she could write a story, but it’d read like a synopsis.

17. Which character is the best liar? Worst?

This entirely depends on when we take the characters. Before Babette was unceremoniously dethroned, she was a magnificent liar who would often use the skill in her youth on the run. However, at the same time, she’s spent literal aeons alone and her skills at lying have atrophied. She still does it, she’s just noticeably worse. I would say the worst liar would probably be Adrian because out of the children characters, he’s younger and got the biggest tells out of the lot of them. And yes, I have to pick children because everyone else are massive liars whether it’s lying to themselves, their parents, or others. In my experience, everyone lies at least once and their skill isn’t proportional to how much they

18. Which character swears the most? Least?

Henrietta swears like a fuckin’ sailor, Josephine can swear but only does it rarely—or at least where people can’t hear her.

19. Which character has the best handwriting? Worst?

Babette, again due to living for millions of years and the necessity she had to perfect her handwriting. So far, I’ve described her handwriting thusly:

‘…it was clear that it was one-hundred per cent handwritten, and it was a masterpiece. Each letter, each word was written in a way that made reading it clear and easy to read, but also incredibly pleasing to the eye. Cursive, almost like calligraphy but written in clear bull-point pen, as if someone managed to distil handwriting into an artform then decoded to perfect it because why not?’ – Divine Intervention or: What Comes After Immortality? Chapter 4(draft)

Unfortunately, she’s not so good at art unless it’s literally putting the image in her mind onto paper using magical means. Nevertheless, I could see her girlfriend asking Babette to do some calligraphy for her blog.

Flynn has the worst but honestly you can’t blame the kid… he’s a kid!

20. Which character is most like you? Least like you?

I’d probably have to say Babette, but it’s a close tie between her and Josephine because both of them contain facets of me but are also their own people with different desires and personalities.

Least like me are the other characters, pretty much. Henrietta, Maria, Kurt, Samuel, Sofía, Flynn, Harrison, Alyssa, I’m not really like these characters at all.

21. Which character would you most like to be?

Josephine. Hands down, Josephine. Listen, I like Babette and all and she’s an extension of myself in some ways, and, honestly, I’d feel a lot more comfortable in her skin then my own, but Josephine is just a quiet suburban girl with her own slice of the Earth doing her own thing. She’s an artist, she’s got a loving family, a healthy online presence, a healthy sleeping schedule, and… yeah.

To tag some folks, I think I’ll tag: @randomestfandoms-ocs; @rose-writes-and-drinks-tea; @ariellaskylark; @focusdumbass; @i-tried-and-i-loose; @undinisms; @alixismad; @sweet-scribes; @sunlight-melodies and literally anyone else who wants to try it!

#oc: josephine williams #oc: babette melwyn #original characters #oc #original character #my writing #my wip #wip questions #writing #writer #writers on tumblr #writing tag #wip tag #writeblr #work: divine intervention

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lanh3284929460-blog · 6 years ago

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Convert MIDI To MP3, MIDI To WAV Converter, Burn MIDI To CD

Ease MIDI Converter is a fast audio utility that lets you convert MIDI to ogg, WAV, WMA, MP3,OGG, AAC ,APE,FLAC,MP2,MP4,M4A, MPC(MusePack), AC3, TTA,SPX(Speex) and WavPack formats in batch. Though every of the commands has been designed for a particular sort of musical material, you'll be able to sometimes get very interesting results by applying the вЂњwrongвЂќ command. For example, Convert Harmony will often create chords. So operating it on a monophonic clip (like a vocal recording) will often generate notes that werenвЂt present in the original audio. This can be an effective way to spark your creativity. We might discover a plenty of music files in some recreation and leisure software program are with MIDI as the file extension at present. These can be the most common MIDI recordsdata on COMPUTER. Some of you may feel astonished at the truth that a four-min MIDI file only occupies tons of of kilobytes while a WMV file takes up 40MBytes. Even though it's compressed to be a MP3 file, it is going to engage 4MBytes as properly. In distinction, a MIDI file is admittedly dreamy little. The opposite vital safety concern is data privacy. We do not suggest using on-line functions to transform sensitive materials like financial institution information or confidential recordsdata. Even if the service guarantees to delete and destroy all data of your file, there's still a grey space. As soon as your file is uploaded to a developer's cloud or server, the service can crawl that file for data to store or sell to the very best bidder. Though audio files are less susceptible to information breach than picture or document information, there is still a chance that a copy of your file may very well be saved elsewhere. Enter notes along with your laptop's mouse, a MIDI keyboard or laptop keyboard. There is not a virtual piano, but Finale has no shortage of input options. Whenever you end coming into notes, listen again to your composition with the Human Playback feature that performs your music utilizing one of many hundreds of constructed-in devices, together with strings, horns and percussion devices. Finale has a great listing of sharable output codecs. It outputs publisher high quality printable files in addition to PDF and graphic files. You can also output an MP3 file to share an audio model of your finalized score. Finale is probably the most acknowledged name in music production software program because it is easy-to-use and has an ideal choice of notation tools for beginners and advanced user alike.

Probably the most obtrusive and necessary difference between free and for-pay software is velocity of conversion. During testing, Freemake, the very best free audio converter software program, took 4 instances so long as the quickest program, Swap, to convert a 625MB WAV file to MP3. The opposite free converter we examined, File ZigZag , is a web-based converter instrument that was 30 occasions slower than Switch at converting our test file. It also limits you to at least one file over 180MB per day and 2GB or smaller information. If you could often convert information or a lot of files at once, we recommend spending between $20 and $30 on a program that does not crash usually and may batch convert multiple information without delay. The video confirmed the outcomes (fairly predictable) of using this technology as a "Magic Wand" so to talk. With a purpose to use the product effectively as a part of a midi to mp3 converter mac free download conversion process (or for that matter, transcription to notation) it's best to undergo the modifying & correction process that it was designed particularly to do. You'd then use the outcomes to help your ears in the really transcription much like Zuill recommends utilizing Audacity. Melodyne is a much more effective tool for this goal than Audacity however this comes with non trivial costs. The product is dear and takes a major investment in time (in all probability a whole bunch of hours) to make use of it successfully. Whether it's well worth the funding is dependent upon what your wants and objectives are. For those who need a one-off, fast & soiled conversion, do not trouble. The results can be just like the video, probably helpful but probably not so much.Will it ever be potential to do what I described in the first paragraph? As I said, not with typical laptop know-how. Neural networks, although, are one other matter. Most small baby can hear a piece of advanced music and select the people singing phrases, and hear the person devices (or sections of the same instrument taking part in the same notes) from the combo - even if they don't know the names of the instruments, they'll still hear that the tones made by a flute sound very totally different from those made by a violin, which in turn are completely different from these made by an electrical guitar with excessive distortion or fuzz effects. Furthermore, the child does this in real time, and does not have to think about performing Fast-Fourier Transforms and other advanced math analyses on the analog audio waveforms coming into their brains via the cochlear nerves of their inside ears in response to vibrations of their eardrums.MIDI, the abbreviation of Musical Instrument Digital Interface, is a well-liked file format that's used to play keyboard instruments. The past few days, I saw some forum customers ask how one can convert MP3 to MIDI or YouTube to MIDI You probably have the identical doubt, right here is the proper place. On this article, we will offer you the very best MP3 to MIDI converters.The brief reply is yes, if it is accomplished by a good service provider. There are two major security concerns to bear in mind before you utilize file conversion software. The primary is the security of your laptop. Most on-line file converters require you to add the file to a server. Then the service, most often, sends you an e-mail with an executable file connected. Once you obtain and run an executable file, there's a chance it may carry a virus or malware. The same pitfalls exist for a desktop conversion software that requires you to download the application. If the software program developer does not have contact types or a good About Us web page, be wary.In the Midi2Wav Recorder from the problem is solved by operating a take a look at of the pc sound equipment in the course of the first trial of this system. The program is enjoying again MIDI notes and concurrently recording them into the Wave file. Then the acquired knowledge are being analyzed and it chooses the optimum configuration of tunings for mixer and sound units.

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makeurii-blog · 7 years ago

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The Crossbow Handles And Performs Flawlessly

I {wanted|needed|desired|wished|required} to {learn|discover|find out|understand|study} as {much|a lot|significantly|considerably|substantially} as {possible|feasible|achievable|attainable|doable} about the crossbow. I was pleasantly {surprised|shocked|stunned|amazed|astonished} by its {durability|sturdiness|toughness|longevity} and {consistency|regularity}. This {makes|tends to make|helps make|can make|would make} it {ideal|perfect|best|excellent|great} for NFAS {field|area|discipline|subject|industry} archery as it {meets|fulfills|satisfies} the rEven on the {high|higher|large|substantial|significant} {setting|environment|placing|location} it can be cocked by hand - a {bit|little bit} {more|much more|a lot more|far more|additional} of an {effort|work|energy|hard work|exertion} {however|nevertheless|nonetheless|even so|on the other hand}!

A {heavily|seriously|greatly|intensely|closely} applied deer {trail|path} {passed|handed} just {15|fifteen} yards to my {front|entrance}, and {every|each|each and every|every single|just about every} {one|1|a single|one particular|just one} of the {12|twelve} does I {saw|noticed|observed} from that stand would have been in the freezer {had|experienced} I been in the {market|marketplace|industry|market place|current market} for a baldie.

This is {one|1|a single|one particular|just one} of the lightest {models|designs|versions|types|styles} in the Barnett {range|variety|assortment|selection|array} and {still|nonetheless|nevertheless|even now|however} heavier when {compared|in contrast|in comparison|when compared|as opposed} to the Excalibur Axiom. The Bear X Bruzer FFL is compact, powerful, and a {serious|severe|significant|critical|really serious} asset to {big|large|huge|massive|major} {game|sport|recreation|match|video game} hunters.

The string {should|ought to|must|need to|really should} be drawn also as locked into placement appropriately. This {implies|indicates} that there {really|truly|actually|genuinely|seriously} {should|ought to|must|need to|really should} be {exactly|precisely|specifically|just|particularly} the {same|exact same|identical|very same|similar} {level|degree|stage|amount} of serving for {each|every|each and every|every single|just about every} {facet|aspect|side}.

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399, this is {one|1|a single|one particular|just one} {smooth|easy|clean|sleek} and {accurate|correct|precise|exact} bow. Weighing in at 6.6 {pounds|lbs|kilos|lbs .} with a 320 fps, {it’s|it is} {plenty|a lot|lots|loads|a great deal} {fast|quick|quickly|rapidly|rapid}. The 3.5 pound {trigger|set off|cause|bring about|induce} has a “crisp” {feel|really feel|truly feel|come to feel|sense} and is {easy|simple|straightforward|effortless|uncomplicated} to pull {without|with out|without having|with no|devoid of} {being|becoming|getting|currently being|staying} {too|as well|also|way too|far too} {soft|gentle|delicate|comfortable|smooth}.

To {really|truly|actually|genuinely|seriously} {shine|glow} in your {hunting|searching|looking} {game|sport|recreation|match|video game}, {though|although|even though|however|while}, I’d {recommend|suggest|advise|advocate|propose} a {good|great|excellent|very good|fantastic} {set|established} of {third|3rd}-{party|celebration|get together|social gathering|occasion} 20” carbon bolts with broadheads, with a {total|complete|whole|overall|full} {weight|excess weight|bodyweight|fat|body weight} of {400|four hundred} to 425 grain.

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{Once|As soon as|When|After|The moment} assembled, the Wicked Ridge Invader is {tight|restricted|limited} and rock {solid|strong|sound|reliable|stable}, {built|constructed|developed|created|designed} to {take|consider|get|just take|acquire} a beating on any {hunting|searching|looking} {trip|journey|excursion|vacation}.

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{Furthermore|Moreover|In addition|Additionally|On top of that}, the {style|fashion|design|type|model} {allows|enables|permits|makes it possible for|lets} the {user|consumer|person} to {rest|relaxation} the crossbow {against|towards|in opposition to|from|versus} the shoulder. Mission Archery {leads|prospects|qualified prospects|sales opportunities|potential customers} the {industry|business|market|sector|marketplace} with the {first|initial|very first|1st|initially}-{ever|at any time} silent mechanical cocking {device|gadget|unit|system|product} for crossbows.

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shireness-says · 7 years ago

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Scrooges and Setups

Summary: Emma doesn't want to work Storybrooke's yearly winter carnival. She especially doesn't want to work the kissing booth. And she really really doesn't want Mary Margaret to turn this into a setup. ~5.5K. Also on AO3.

A/N: Another pre-tumblr one, transferred over for the Fandom Crescendo! This is another really fun one. I particularly enjoyed writing Wildly Inappropriate Ruby - hopefully I can revisit that soon... Still unbeta’d. Rated T because my basic vocabulary includes a lot of swear words. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Emma’s neighbor, Mary Margaret, is a witch. Or a demon. A witch or a demon very focused on the holiday spirit and community service. She must be. It’s the only explanation for how Emma Swan – full time bartender, part-time hermit, and slight Scrooge – has been roped into volunteering at the Storybrooke Winter Carnival.

(Well, that and the fact that M’s said all the proceeds went to help out the local children’s home – a cause that could melt even Emma’s cold heart.

But still. Probably witchcraft too.)

Emma has volunteered – been volunteered? The technicalities are still a bit of a blur to her – but that doesn’t mean she has to be happy about it. She’ll be there, just not with rings on her fingers or bells on her toes, or whatever the kids say. She certainly won’t be wearing a Santa hat or a Christmas sweater or any of that nonsense. Mary Margaret will just have to deal.

It’s not that Emma hates Christmas, per se. She really has nothing against the holiday, it’s just not something she celebrates. Growing up in the system, she was lucky to get a new pair of shoes for Christmas. Maybe a dollar store craft set or some school supplies. As an adult, she’s never really had anyone to celebrate with. But she moved to Storybrooke back in March – just needed a change in pace, had sporadically kept in touch with Jeff after they both aged out of the system, and finally caved to his begging for her to move closer – and discovered very quickly that holidays here were a Very Big Deal. Especially when you lived next door to Mary Margaret Blanchard, local princess and holiday enthusiast.

Technically, she has the whole day off. When she asked Jeff for a few hours off from the Rabbit Hole, he had gotten very excited – “Of course Emma! It’s so great to see you getting involved! Grace and I will see you there!” – and given her much more time than she had requested. She could get to the town square early, like a respectful professional. But she doesn’t. Emma doesn’t want to go at all, so she shows up as late as she thinks she can get away with without being yelled at by the petite, pixie-d brunette.

Even Emma has to admit, the square looks great. Mary Margaret has clearly gone all out, stringing lights everywhere, all the booths decked out in candy stripes, garlands and snowflakes everything. Unfortunately, Emma barely has a moment to admire the scene before the woman herself comes rushing over. In an elf costume. Of course.

“You barely made it on time, Emma!” she scolds. Emma’s not entirely sure why – she was on time, right? As Emma contemplates this, Mary Margaret has clearly moved past her pseudo-disappointment, ushering Emma across the grass towards God-knows-where. “That’s alright, the person you’re working with is late too, it will be fine. You’ll be working right over here.”

And then M’s stops right in front of the kissing booth.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

No, no, it’s not enough just to think that thought. “Mary Margaret, are you kidding me? What the hell?”

At least Mary Margaret has the grace to look chastened. “Well, you see, almost everyone else has a significant other… I just thought, you’re so pretty, you could pull a lot of traffic and make a lot of money for – “ and oh God, Emma does not want to hear about the kind of traffic she’ll pull.

“I need you to stop right there, Mary Margaret, before this sounds even more like you’re prostituting me out than it already feels.”

At least she has the decency to look slightly ashamed.

Looking around the room, Emma sees a crowd of people with better jobs than her. David is at the arcade games, taking tickets; Regina is manning the silent auction table; Robin is making a valiant effort at the cotton candy stand. Ruby and Belle even get to work together, selling pie – both the ones made by Granny and the more questionable products of Belle’s recent cookbook explorations. Meanwhile, she’s stuck here. At the kissing booth. Where she has to kiss people.

“It won’t be that bad,” Mary Margaret tries to reason. “You won’t even have to kiss everyone! We set it up on a wheel, and only half the options it lands on are for a kiss! The rest are for, like, Granny’s coupons and free arcade tickets. And there’s another person too! So, you know, that’s not so bad, right?”

Emma wants to scream, wants to cuss Mary Margaret out, but the fact of the matter is that she can’t say no to the sweet teacher’s cherub face. So she’s left weakly nodding, as Mary Margaret beams.

“Wonderful! Thank you so much for doing this, Emma, you won’t regret it! Now, you can take two 15 minute breaks as long as your booth partner is still here, it’s a dollar per spin, and doors open in fifteen minutes. Great? Great!”

Mary Margaret is officially a whirlwind of enthusiasm and Emma has no idea how she’s gotten pulled in. Again, probably witchcraft. She thinks the worst is over, she hears M’s pipe up one more time.

“Oh! Here’s your booth partner now! Killian, over here!”

And when Emma thought things couldn’t get worse, she was wrong, because M’s looks far too innocent and yet, at the same time, smug, to not be up to something.

A man – Killian, must be – veers in their direction, and Emma realizes in a horrible moment of clarity that today isn’t just forced merriment and community service, isn’t just being roped into working a kissing booth. No. This is a damned setup.

Emma could kill her neighbor. She really could.

“Killian, it’s so good to see you! This is Emma, she’ll tell you all about how this works. I think David needs something, I’ll see you both later!”

And then she bolts. The witch.

To his credit, this Killian does look a little confused. Emma almost feels bad for him. “I take it she didn’t tell you where you’d be working, either?”

He scratches behind his ear – somewhat adorably, at that.

(No, not adorably. She resents Mary Margaret’s efforts to meddle. She will not be charmed by this man who’s been shoved in her direction.)

“Er… not as much, no. I actually figured I’d be working with my brother.”

She’s not particularly interested, but this whole situation is bad enough as it is. There’s no need to add an awkward silence to make things worse. So instead, she asks the obvious question. “Your brother?”

He practically beams, and Emma hopes she hasn’t encouraged him too much. “Yeah, my brother, Liam. He and his fiancé are over working the snow cone station.”

Sure enough, glancing over, she sees a tall, curly-headed man with Killian’s eyes handling the cash box as a slender blonde works the ice shaver with gusto. As she turns a skeptical eye back to Killian, he shrugs.

“I know, it looks awfully unchivalrous, but would you believe me if I said she insisted? Says it’s a good place to work out her stress. Elsa’s actually got arms of steel under that fleece.”

Emma can only hum in return. She’s fine, now to let things fall into silence, but her new booth partner jumps back in. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. Work down at the docks. And you are…?”

“Emma. Swan. Bartender.” She quickly remembers the instructions M’s tasked her with. “I guess it’s a buck to spin the wheel, and we get two fifteen minute breaks, whenever you want, as long as I’m here to be in charge.”

He nods. “Simple enough.” But suddenly – maybe it’s because she put him at ease, letting talk about his brother – she can just see him put on an attitude. “What do you say, love? Want to practice kissing before the crowds get here?”

And ugh, she remembers why she doesn’t do set ups.

This is going to suck.

------

It becomes quickly obvious that Emma and Jones have very different strategies for the day.

Emma’s plan was to sit slouched in one of the provided chairs, generally looking unenthusiastic and discouraging any traffic. Killian, on the other hand, has taken up the role of a carnival barker, bringing in a steady stream of traffic.

“Having fun yet, Swan?” he offers after the first half hour. Emma can only glare.

------

She was right. This fucking sucks.

Ok, not all of it is bad. A troop of Mary Margaret’s second graders came through, and it was very cute how the little boys blushed when she planted one on their cheeks. And it was hilarious seeing one particularly bold little girl pull Killian down to plant one on him, instead of the other way around.

However, with the good, comes the bad. The very, very bad, in the form of Leroy.

Emma doesn’t normally have issues with Leroy – he’s a bit cantankerous, sure, but so is Emma, and he tips decently whenever he’s at the Rabbit Hole. Which is often.

But today, he seems bound and determined to test Emma’s patience. In the two and a half hours the carnival’s been running, he’s come by the booth three times, and is now approaching for a fourth. And, of course, he’s landed the wheel on a kiss every time. Bastard. If he lands on kiss a fourth time, he’s not getting a smooch – he’s getting a knee to the balls.

The universe truly must have it out for her today, because he does land on a kiss again. Of fucking course. She watches, practically in slow motion, as Leroy leans in, and with a feeling of dread, Emma just knows that he’s going for the lips this time. She braces herself, ready to punch him or knee him or something else violent… when Killian swoops in and pecks him on the cheek.

“There you go, Leroy, a nice smooch. You enjoy the rest of your afternoon!”

Leroy sputters, but stalks off as Emma just looks at Killian with confusion – and wonder.

“Uh… thanks. I think. I could have taken care of that, but thanks.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I’m perfectly aware of that, darling, I just thought I’d spare you the trouble and scraped knuckles. Let’s just hope that nuisance doesn’t come back.”

(And when Leroy does start making his way over, another fifteen minutes later, Emma happily takes Killian up on his suggestion that she take advantage of one of her breaks.)

------

Emma takes the opportunity during her break to go talk to Ruby and Belle. Not only can Ruby catch her up on any gossip there might be about Jones (because mark her words, that man is a mystery), but she can probably weasel some pie out of them to boot. She needs food, after all.

As she approaches the ladies, it’s a struggle not to laugh at Belle’s forlorn look – seemingly over her poor culinary attempts.

“Of course they taste fine, babe!” she overhears Ruby placate as she approaches. “They just… well, they’re not the prettiest. But so tasty, and isn’t that what matters?”

Emma has to admit, Belle’s pies do look a little bit of a mess next to Granny’s masterpieces, what with their deflating meringues and messy, torn up crusts and lattices. Emma takes pity on the poor woman and orders a hefty piece of the Boston crème pie. (It is actually pretty good, looks aside.)

Newly distracted by Emma’s presence, Ruby turns to her with a wolfish grin and a waggle of the eyebrows. “So, I see Mary Margaret walked you right into a set up again. At least he’s good looking.”

Belle has a more concerned look on her face. Really, some days it’s a wonder how her and Ruby’s relationship works so well. “You be nice to him, Emma. He’s a lovely man, more sensitive than he lets on.”

That perks Emma’s attention. “You know him, then? What can you tell me?”

Ruby smirks. “Oh, we know him alright. Comes into the diner for coffee every weekday morning, volunteers at the library Saturday afternoons. He’s the harbormaster, I think, whatever the hell that means.”

It’s nice to hear the information that Ruby has, but these kinds of details are a little useless to Emma. She could follow him around for week if she wanted his schedule. “C’mon, Ruby, what’s the gossip? What’s he like? I can’t get a proper read on this guy. “

Ruby pauses to think for a moment before delivering her information with almost business-like efficiency. “He’s… careful, I guess. Does everything with purpose, like he’s thought it through. Likes to fancy himself a gentleman, even when he’s playing up that cocky flirty thing, and for the most part it’s true. Positively devoted to his brother, nearly to the point of hero worship. Rumor is he was engaged a few years back, before he and his brother showed up in Storybrooke, but it’s anyone’s guess what happened there.”

Belle takes the opportunity to cut in. “I mean it, Emma, be careful with him. He’s a really good guy, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he deserves a lot more than your usual one and done.”

It’s a lot to process. But her break is almost over, her pie is long since gone, and Emma has to work her way back to her own personal hell – the damned kissing booth.

------

Jones looks disturbingly smug as she walks back over, making Emma more nervous than she’d like to admit. “What are you smirking at?” she grumbles, sliding back into her seat.

If anything, that only makes the smirk grow. “Oh, nothing. Just observing you ladies talking about me.”

It’s infuriating, really, how he’s able to read her like that. All the same, she has a near compulsive need to not let on how right he is. “How do you know that’s what we were talking about? For all you know, we were talking about pie. Some of Belle’s efforts are real shockers.”

He scoffs. “Please, I saw all the glances cast my way. It’s quite alright, darling, I don’t mind. Though it would have been much simpler just to ask me your questions. So, what did they tell you?”

She should just keep her mouth shut, but Emma is fully entrenched in her defensive stance. “Who says I learned anything?”

“Please, Swan, don’t insult my intelligence. Anyways, don’t I have the right to know?”

She sighs. Jeez, the man can wear her down. “You know, just the basic. You volunteer at the library, love your brother, have some fancy job at the docks. That kind of thing. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“Ah, the basics,” he replies in a mock-serious tone with a lift of his eyebrows. “And did you get all the answers you wanted?”

Emma shrugs, for lack of a better answer. Unfortunately, Jones seems to take that as encouragement.

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve learned, I hold the very official-sounding job of harbormaster, which usually means I’d be in charge of monitoring incoming shipments, but since this is Storybrooke, it mostly means I collect the monthly docking fees and try to pay attention to whether everyone makes it back safely at night. I do have a brother, who is an absolutely insufferable git but who I love anyways, and who I have a minor hero complex towards. I’m working on it. I am also working on various insecurity and self-confidence issues, as well as a former over-dependence on alcohol to ignore my problems. In my spare time, I read far too many murder mysteries, dream about purchasing my own ship, and am desperately trying to keep a houseplant alive long enough to be comfortable adopting a dog. Does that about cover things?”

She nods mutely. Really, it’s the most thorough introduction she could have hoped for.

“Excellent.”

They work in silence for a few more minutes, collecting a few more dollars and distributing a few more kisses, before Emma interrupts their pattern.

“Ruby said you used to be engaged?”

It’s like a sudden, icy wall crashes down over his expression. “Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time I took one of my breaks.”

And he stalks off in the direction of the snow cone stand, leaving Emma wondering just what the hell she’s done.

------

It’s a little fascinating, watching the brothers Jones interact. There’s so clearly an older sibling/younger sibling dynamic between the two, the way Liam puts on a look of patient exasperation while Killian rants, and then Killian looks chastened while Liam calmly replies. Eventually, the younger just slumps and collapses in on himself as the elder rubs his back comfortingly. Emma doesn’t have a sibling – the closest thing she has is Jeff, thanks to three years of being in the same group home and then the same school, where he looked after her in his own eccentric way. It’s truly interesting to her, watching the way these two interact, seeing what a sibling relationship can be like and should be like. It’s almost enough to ignore the frequent glances thrown in her direction.

Inevitably, she gets distracted by the carnival-goers, and by the time she can turn her attention elsewhere again, Jones is wandering back to the booth, visibly less tense. Whatever Liam had to say must have been damn effective. As he approaches, his hand raises to scratch behind his ear, like some kind of nervous habit.

“I trust that Leroy didn’t bother you in my absence?”

Emma shrugs in return. “Nah, he stayed away. Think he discovered Sister Astrid at the hand-dipped candle booth, poor thing.”

“Good, good.” He shifts on his feet, looking uncomfortable, like he’s trying to find some difficult words. “Look, I’m sorry I reacted the way I did, and then ran off and left you to the wolves. Bad form, that. It’s just… I don’t talk about Milah particularly often. It’s difficult, and I’m not particularly keen on it.”

Immediately, Emma understands where she went wrong, and feels distinctly uncomfortable. God, she really stuck her foot in her mouth this time, didn’t she? “You don’t have to if you don’t want to – forget I asked.”

“No, no, as Liam reminded me, you didn’t mean badly. And since you’ve rather been forced into this set up – “

“I swear, M’s must have pulled this from a damned Hallmark movie – “

“ – forced into this setup, it’s only right that you know who you’ve been shoved into company with.” He takes a deep breath, like he’s steeling himself for what he’s about to say, and God, Emma feels like the shittiest human alive. “I was engaged. To the most wonderful woman. But then she died, right in my arms – an undiagnosed heart condition, they said. And I haven’t really put myself out there since. Something Liam likes to remind me, actually. Milah was just… she was my entire life. My world centered on making her happy. It’s hard to bounce back from that. That was one of the reason I moved here, actually –I needed to escape all the memories in Boston, and Liam already lived here. It was a natural choice. But I don’t talk about my Milah very often, because it makes me upset, and I desperately need to move on with my life. So I’m sorry that I stormed off on you earlier, Swan. It truly wasn’t something personal. I’m just… out of practice, talking about this.”

There’s probably a lot of things she should say, try to comfort him and whatnot. Any number of things would have been appropriate. But Emma’s not good with feelings – her own or others’. So instead, she blurts out a “How do you know Mary Margaret?” It’s a non sequitur, sure, but it’s the best she can do. Show that she doesn’t care or that his outburst doesn’t change anything or that she’s not judging him or… whatever.

He blinks a few times, clearly thrown, before grinning. Lucky for her, he apparently understands Emma’s sloppy attempts at connecting. “It’s a little bit of a stretch actually. Liam is a deputy at the police station with David, Mary Margaret’s husband. And I’m sure you know how she tries to take care of everyone. You’re the neighbor, right?”

“For better or worse. Today, it’s worse, I think.”

Jones – Killian laughs. He’s got a nice laugh, really. “I take it, based on the grumbling, this is one of the ‘worse’ days?”

“You bet your ass it is,” she mutters as another townsperson walks over. Thankfully, they just win a Granny’s coupon – no kiss – and actually seem to be pretty happy about that. “Mary Margaret has been great to me, but she’s just… so much. I’m not really big on Christmas, and definitely not big on setups.”

Interestingly, he focuses on her first point rather than her second. Emma is choosing to believe that means he agrees with her on the matchmaking front. “You’re not big on Christmas, Swan? Don’t tell me you’re some kind of Grinch.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I don’t actively hate it, like a Grinch, I just… never really had a reason to go all out celebrating.” She pauses. After his deep, heartfelt story of lost love, she feels like he might deserve a little glimpse of herself. Quid pro quo or whatnot. “Growing up in the system, very few families actually made a big deal about the holiday for the kids in their care. Those few who did, I always kinda felt like an outsider, like the holiday wasn’t for me, somehow. Then ever since I aged out, it’s just been me, by myself. Hard to make a big deal of the holiday for yourself.”

Killian looks vaguely scandalized. Appalled, even. “Well, that simply won’t stand! You have to come to Liam and I’s yearly bash next week.”

“I don’t know…” she tries to start, but he’s butting back in.

“Ruby and Belle will be there, and so will Mary Margaret and David – not to mention, my handsome self – so you can’t say you won’t know anyone. Plus…” He goes for the ear scratch again. God, that really is a nervous habit with him, isn’t it? “Plus, our first annual party was right after I moved to town, so I could meet everyone. Seems only right to pass it on.”

Emma has to admit, it is oddly poetic. She finds herself nodding an affirmative, almost without conscious thought. It’s worth it though, to see the way his face lights up when he realizes she’s accepted his invite.

“Excellent! I promise, Swan, you’ll have a hell of a time. Now, if I can recommend getting really back to work and attracting more people? I know our cash pull has been impressive, but I think we can rustle up even more. I must say, we make quite the team.”

She groans, dreading more kissing wheel contestants, but he does have a point – when it comes to this awful holiday tradition, at least, they make quite the team.

------

The rest of the afternoon goes a lot more smoothly. After all their talk of the personal, conversation comes a lot easier between the two, and she actually finds herself enjoying his company. Beneath that cocky exterior really is a sweet man, she’s shocked and relieved to learn.

Most of their time is spent betting on who each approaching townsperson is looking to buy a kiss from. He’s pretty good at it, actually – guessing who is motivated by a crush, who is motivated by getting a laugh, and who just wants to pick whoever seems less scary (those always go his way – somehow, they prefer his charming smile to her scowl). The one exception to this is when Jefferson and Gracie swing by. Killian had seen the excitable seven-year-old and had automatically assumed his good looks would be more of a draw to a young girl. It’s gratifying, in some sort of hilarious way, to see the confusion on his face when Emma gives the little girl an enthusiastic smooch, and receives one in return. As the two stand together, cackling at Killian’s confused face, it finally dawns on him that he’s been had.

“Oh, that’s cheating, Swan, not telling me you knew the lass. Bad form, that.”

He is, however, able to overlook that small deception when he takes his second break (and is it really a deception, if he just made assumptions without full information that she didn’t bother to correct?) and brings her back a hot dog and onion rings from Granny’s booth when he returns, on the logic that “the lines are bloody awful, love, I’m just saving you the hassle.”

It’s weird. She didn’t want to like Killian, when Mary Margaret so clumsily threw him into her path, but she does. He’s got a good sense of humor and a competitive streak that rivals her own and fancies himself a gentleman, like he’s straight out of some ridiculous Regency romance or something.

Emma could overanalyze that, if she wanted to. Probably will when she gets home. But for now, she gratefully accepts the snack and moves to enjoy her own break.

------

“So, when you gonna jump that hot piece of ass?”

Ruby, ever the picture of subtlety.

Belle, at least, has the decency to look shocked by her girlfriend’s actions. “Ruby!”

Unfortunately, Ruby will not be contained. “I’m, just saying, they’re getting pretty cozy now that they’re over whatever that spat was earlier. She could do a lot worse, you know.”

They both focus their attention on Emma at that moment, almost like they’ve been cued. “Well?” Ruby asks impatiently.

“He’s… not what I expected.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” God, somebody really needs to sign Ruby up for etiquette lessons.

Emma narrowly avoids rolling her eyes. “I don’t know, he’s just… he likes to act like he’s so cocky, you know? And he really isn’t. I totally thought he was going to be a dick, but…”

“But now you might get the dick?”

“Ruby!” Belle hisses, clearly mortified, even if her partner isn’t. Turning to Emma in a clear attempt to move on from Ruby’s antics, she asks “So do you think you’ll go out with him sometime? Oh, Emma, I think you two could have such a lovely time together.” She quickly holds up a stern finger at the sight of Ruby’s smirk. “Do not say ‘in bed’ or so help me God.”

Emma just shrugs. “I don’t know. I might go to his Christmas party, see what happens from there.”

And true, she still has a few more minutes and doesn’t strictly have to leave right that second, but Emma still chooses to make her excuses and head back to her own booth. There’s only so many quips she can take from Ruby before she snaps.

------

Before she knows it, the day is over, and she and Killian are gathering their things to leave. She’s almost sad – Emma may have been dreading this day for weeks, but Killian really made it almost bearable.

For some inconceivable reason, he almost looks nervous, scratching behind his ear yet again. “So… I know I mentioned our little holiday party earlier, but do you think you would like to come? I mean, you don’t have to but it’s a good time and there will be drinks if nothing else and –“

Emma quickly nods before his sentence can ramble any further.

His face lights up for a moment, before he devolves back into stuttering. “Ok! Yes. Good. Ok. Ok, well, I guess I’ll have Liam give an invite to David to give to you?”

“Yeah, that’ll work.”

There’s an awkward silence, their first in long while. Emma feels like they should be marking the end of this day somehow special, but she’s coming up with nothing. “So…” she finally breaks in. “I’ll see you around, then?”

He looks a little disappointed, but nods all the same. “Of course, Swan.” And then, the bastard, he lifts her hand to press a kiss to its back. “It’s been a pleasure, Emma.”

She barely manages to nod dumbly and mumble out a “You too” before she turns and leaves. Well, flees more like. But for once, it’s not out of some great fear of commitment or being left behind and disappointed. This time, it’s purely so she doesn’t say anything else that would make her look like a damn fool.

Her reaction probably isn’t ideal, but she’s standing behind it.

------

She tries to focus all week. She really does. But the bar is shockingly slow for this time of year (hey, if she had a family, she’d probably be trying to escape them at the bar too) and TV is all reruns and Emma just can’t stop thinking about blue eyes and a kiss to the hand and the way that she really, really wants to see him again.

She’ll never admit it out loud, of course. When Ruby or Mary Margaret mention the party, she grumbles like always (not looking forward to the party is accurate, at least – she’d rather be with him in her own empty apartment for more private celebrations, seasonal or otherwise, than at some ridiculous themed party). But she really wants to see him again. Which is weird, because Emma hates setups on principle. And the idea of Mary Margaret being all smug about the whole thing… ugh. So when she finally gives into the inevitability of thinking about Killian, she uses the time to prepare herself emotionally for the God awful sappy, smug, or downright inappropriate reactions she’s sure she’ll receive from everyone in her life.

------

Saturday comes sooner than expected, despite the fact that the rest of the week seems to drag, and Emma finds herself prepping for a party. If Ruby was here, Emma is sure she would have been squeezed into some kind of skin-tight dress and stilettos, but Emma’s been left to her own sartorial devices, so a white sweater with boots it is. Hey, she’s going to wear her red leather jacket, that’s Christmasy enough.

For all of her confidence during the week, her determination to actually make a damn move, she can feel her boldness draining away the closer her Bug gets to Liam and Elsa’s little seaside cottage. By the time she reaches their door, holding a bottle of whiskey like some kind of armor (and let’s face it, she’ll probably need drinks to get through this night), Emma is about ready to turn tail and run. Before she can talk herself out of it, she rings the doorbell, hoping someone hears her over the din she can already hear through the door.

And of course, all her fears are put to rest the moment the door opens, because Killian looks positively thrilled to see her.

“Swan! You made it!”

“Yep, I’m here. Grinch spirit and all.” Before she can well and truly lose her nerve, she jerks a thumb back into the darkness. “Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Killian looks a little confused, but apparently is willing anyways. “Sure, I suppose I can step away for a moment.”

They find a spot around the side of the house where it’s finally quiet enough for her to talk freely.

“Is anything the matter, love? I know you’re not big on Christmas but I promise there’s no more than two stupid games in there and there’s a few people you know and I really think –“

“Did you have fun the other day? At the booth? With me?” And oh, that’s certainly smooth, well done Emma.

“Well, yes, surprisingly, I had a lovely time with you. Ridiculous games aside.”

“Do you want to have fun again?”

“Do I want to have fun again?”

“Yes. Fun. With me. In a setting that doesn’t involve a kissing wheel.”

His grin starts slow, but grows to stretch from ear to ear. “Emma, are you trying to ask me on a date?”

Part of Emma wants to protest, because she typically Does Not Do Dating. But she sucks it up, raises her chin, and answers a definitive “Yes. If you want.”

He scoffs. “If I want? Emma, I would have suggested our own version of the kissing wheel at the carnival if I didn’t think it would end poorly. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Finally, the universe is working in her favor, because after a moment smiling goofily at one another, they move together simultaneously to share a kiss. A good kiss. A really, really great kiss that she’d be up for repeating every day of the week and extra on Sundays.

As they finally break apart to walk back inside the house hand and hand, Emma suddenly has perhaps the weirdest, craziest thought yet.

Maybe she could get into this Christmas thing after all.

#my writing #scrooges and setups #ouat fandom crescendo #cs ff #cs modern au #christmas in may #featuring grouchy emma #wildly inappropriate ruby #and whatever the ruby/belle relationship is called #oh and a kissing booth

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livingcorner · 4 years ago

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20 Ways to Keep Deer Out of Your Yard

Sure, they’re pretty to look at, if you’re quick—and quiet enough to catch a glimpse of deer galloping off into the distance.

But set loose in your garden, they will ravage your tender tulips and plump pansies, leaving foliage raggedy and the fruits of your labor plundered. Fortunately, with a little bit of insight into their habits, you can prevent your flowers, bulbs, and vegetables from becoming a free buffet. Use these 20 tips to keep deer out of your garden.

You're reading: 20 Ways to Keep Deer Out of Your Yard

These range from deer proof plants and home remedies to organic solutions and humane exclusion techniques. Our guide is part of a prevention plan you should put into effect now—even before you’ve spotted the season’s first deer.

1. Don’t over-stock your garden with tasty plants

Photo by Alexandra Bandon

Springtime finds deer at one of their hungriest states: Does are nursing their fawns, and anxious to gain back weight lost during the winter’s freeze, every deer is looking to gorge on high-protein, moisture-rich plants. Think twice about growing large amounts of English ivy, lettuces, beans, peas, hostas, impatients, and pansies. Fruit trees are prime targets too. As Rhonda Massingham Hart points out in her book on how to keep deer out of your yard, Deerproofing Your Yard & Garden (Storey), “The sweetness and flavor of strawberries and peaches make them as attractive to deer as they are to people.”

2. Keep deer-favorite plants close to the house

Photo by Kaźmierczyk Krzysztof

That way, you can keep tabs on the plant’s progress at all times, making sure it doesn’t become a meal. As a general rule, deer love to dine on anything that’s smooth, tender, and flavorful, including chrysanthemum, clematis, roses, azalea bushes, and various berries. Plant pungent plants to help deer proof your yard.

3. Plant pungent perennials as a natural barrier

With wildlife biologists’ modest estimate of 18 to 24 deer per square mile, and full-grown adults each feeding on 6 to 10 pounds of greenery a day, the best line of defense lies in making your backyard less appetizing than your neighbors. Deer rely heavily on their sense of smell for feeding, so adding patches of strongly scented herbs—from garlic and chives, to mint and lavender (left)—can mask the appealing aroma of nearby annuals.

4. Plant thorny, hairy, or prickly foliage

Photo by Magnus Manske

When a deer is deciding what to have for dinner, the sense of smell trumps touch. But that doesn’t mean deer aren’t bothered by certain textures mid-meal. Try incorporating fuzzy lamb’s ear, barberries, and cleome near the plants you want to protect—and where deer might find entrance into your garden in the first place. See Plants Deer Dislike for a more comprehensive list.

Read more: How to Get Rid of Fungus in Garden Soil

5. Make deer-resistant substitutions

Photo by S.M. Kriebel

Massingham Hart suggests trading tulips for daffodils, which tend to top the deer-resistant plant lists. Pick roses that are particularly thorny, including Scotch or rugosa roses. And if you’re looking for flowers that’ll add a certain color or provide a certain function in your outdoor space, consult this list of deer resistant plants from Rutgers University to see what swaps you can make in your garden to keep deer out of your yard.

6. Out of sight, out of mind

Photo by Nancy Andrews

Plant large, sprawling deer repellent varieties such as thick hedges of boxwoods or short needle spruces around the borders of your garden. If deer can’t see what’s inside, they’re less likely to take that leap of faith onto your property.

7. Cleanliness counts

Photo by Kai-Martin Knaak

Trim tall grasses to deter bedding deer. Pick fruits once they’re ripe, and discard crops right after harvest.

8. Create levels

Photo by Oljylautta

Deer aren’t avid climbers so adding terraces or sunken beds can discourage them from coming into the yard. If your property is particularly woodsy and sprawling, consider stacking pallets around your property, which deer are afraid to walk or jump on.

9. Don’t underestimate the power of scare tactics

Photo by Steve Dodge

As neophobes, deer fear new, unfamiliar objects. Though they aren’t always attractive, scarecrows, sundials, and other garden ornaments—especially those with movable parts—make deer skittish. Use them in combination with wind chimes or bright lights to keep deer out of your yard.

10. Fence it in

Photo by Courtesy of Walpole Woodworkers

The most effective method of exclusion is a fence. Whitetails, which tend to plague most suburban gardens, are quite the jumpers. Make sure fences are at least 8-feet high with no more than 6-inch by 6-inch gaps. Electric fences, which can be put up during the peak feeding seasons of early spring and late fall, are another option.

11. Wrap new plantings

Photo by Courtesy of Tubex

Placing netting over fruit, bulbs, and bushes. Use garden nets from Vexar, tree protectors from Tubex, or plastic tree wrap to physically bar deer from feasting on your firs.

12. Rotating repellents throughout the growing season

Photo by Courtesy of Deer Off

The University of Illinois Extension School recommends Havahart’s Deer Away Big Game Repellent, a powder that contains a high concentration of smelly egg solids to target sense of smell to keep deer out of your yard. Also on the market: Deer Off, a spray product containing capsaicin that deters predominantly by taste, and Hinder a spray of ammonium salts of higher fatty acids creates an odor barrier. Reapply repellent after rainfall, and use a different formula from time to time to protect plants and prevent deer adaptation. Coverage should start from the ground and extend upward six feet.

13. Use a lot of homespun repellents to keep deer guessing

Some gardeners swear by hanging fabric softener strips and/or wrapped bars of soap from trees, both of which can confuse a deer’s sense of smell. Others point to using hot pepper sprays, garlic and rotten egg mixtures, ammonia-soaked rags, and bags of hair and/or blood meal around the garden for the same reason. As with commercial repellents, the trick is to switch things up, learning by trial and error, for maximum efficiency. Check out this tutorial on deer-proofing shrubs with Roger Cook. And experiment with deer juice, a tried-and-true recipe shared by TOH design director Amy Rosenfeld.

14. Avoid products that may be poisonous to people and pets

Photo by Torsten Henning

Whether you choose commercial repellents or homemade formulas, you wouldn’t want to accidentally harm your family or other wildlife. Always choose humane formulas—never poisons.

15. String fishing line around prized plants

Photo by Courtesy of Berkley

Relatively cheap and easy when compared to putting up a fence, string a line of monofilament around your beds within the deer feeding zone—ideally two to three feet above ground. Just as deer can’t comprehend the concept of glass, this clear, taut barrier also confuses deer, ultimately causing them to flee.

Read more: How to Clean Your Garden Hose? – Cleaning & Care Tips

16. Let Fido out as much as possible

Photo by Allison Rosa

Having a dog as a pet is extremely effective in deer management. No matter their size, their scent and bark are natural deer repellents so make sure the dog tags along while you’re gardening or the kids are playing in the yard.

17. Strategically place motion-activated sprinklers

Photo by Muhammad Mahdi Karim

Sprinklers with sensors will spray mist on passing deer. The sudden sound and moisture sends deer back off into the woods.

18. Shine a light on it

Photo by Richard Howard

Deer don’t like bright lights so they’ll often wait till nightfall to chow down. Installing a system of motion-sensitive floodlights will literally stop a deer in its tracks, though they do come to realize, over time, that the beam is harmless.

Learn how to put one in at How to Install a Garage Floodlight.

19. Make a lot of noise

Photo by Courtesy of Ridgid

Deer don’t like loud bangs or booms. You could set off firecrackers or create a tin can wind chime, but tuning a radio to the static in between stations might be your best bet.

20. Remember these tips won’t work all of the time

Photo by Matthew Benson

Deer are like people. The same thing that deters one won’t always deter another, but doubling—or tripling—up on these strategies can only help. Putting a few of these tips into practice, before deer become a problem, is the best way to prevent damage to your vegetation. Think through each of your decisions, however, before taking action, as some solutions are pricier than others.

Looking for professional pest control? Here are a few comprehensive resources:

Best Pest Control Companies

TruGreen Pest Control Review

Orkin vs. Terminix

Terminix Pest Control Review

Orkin Pest Control Review

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

source https://livingcorner.com.au/20-ways-to-keep-deer-out-of-your-yard/

#livingcornernews

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livehealthynewsusa · 4 years ago

Text

Myanmar women give birth in jungle as military lies in wait | Health News

On a stormy June night, Rosemary lay in labor in the darkness of her home in an abandoned village in Myanmar’s Mindat township when Mai Nightingale, a 25-year-old midwife, tried to stifle her screams.

“Only the two of us were alone in the village. We closed all the doors and windows of the house and stayed calmly inside, ”said Mai Nightingale. “When she felt pain, I put a blanket in her mouth because we feared soldiers might hear her.” Like others interviewed for this article, Al Jazeera used pseudonyms for Mai Nightingale and Rosemary for her safety.

Rosemary’s labor had started the night before, but as soldiers neared her village in southern Chin State, she and the other villagers fled into the forest. But there was no adequate shelter from the incessant rain, so Rosemary and Mai Nightingale decided to take the risk of encountering soldiers and return the next morning.

“The situation wasn’t exactly favorable for the birth of a baby,” said Mai Nightingale. “We saw Burmese soldiers running towards our village, but we couldn’t turn back because [Rosemary] was already exhausted. “

Rosemary’s husband did not dare to accompany her because he feared soldiers might mistake him for a member of a local armed group. Since a February 1 military coup, civil defense forces, mostly armed with hunting rifles and homemade weapons, have appeared across the country to fight the regime, and Mindat has been a focus of resistance since May.

Consistent with tactics the military has used for decades to crush an armed rebellion and terrorize the population, soldiers launched disproportionate attacks on Mindat, including firing artillery, rocket-propelled grenades and machine guns into residential areas while imposing martial law, making the city empty. according to local media reports. Young men are particularly affected.

[JC/Al Jazeera]

Rosemary brought her baby shortly after the sound of the soldiers died down, and Mai Nightingale cut and tied the umbilical cord with a razor blade and string which she boiled in water for lack of other sterilants. Although Rosemary and her baby are healthy and unharmed, the circumstances of the birth illustrate the increasing risks mothers and newborns face in an escalating humanitarian crisis.

Mai Nightingale and two other nurses interviewed by Al Jazeera who care for mothers and newborns displaced by armed conflict say they are severely limited in their ability to deliver babies safely and that the physical insecurity of pregnant women and newborns amid ongoing violence.

“The greatest health risks for pregnant women and newborns are their lives. They can die in labor or afterwards from running as soldiers near their hiding place, ”said a nurse nicknamed Smile in Loikaw Township, Kayah state. “There is not enough medical equipment or medication … babies cannot be vaccinated or properly housed.”

Collapsing health system

The United Nations estimates that around 230,000 people have been displaced since the coup.

In addition to attacking civilians, the military cut food and water supplies to conflict-affected people, shot at refugee camps and churches of refuge, shot displaced people trying to get rice from their villages, and burned food and medical supplies.

Meanwhile, Myanmar’s health system has all but collapsed, leaving few options even for women willing to risk the risk of returning to their town or village to bear a child, or to be vaccinated or treated.

Ongoing strikes by medical workers amid a wider movement of civil disobedience have left state hospitals threadbare, while some health facilities have been shut down entirely. The military has also repeatedly attacked medical workers and facilities, and occupied hospitals.

My mother put her hand on my cousin and prayed. By the grace of God, she gave birth successfully

Smile, Myanmar nurse

Alessandra Dentice, Myanmar ad interim representative at the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF), told Al Jazeera that the vast majority of pregnant women displaced since the coup did not have access to emergency obstetric care, while routine vaccinations for children “almost completely stalled are”. “.

“Without urgent action, we estimate that 600,000 newborns annually will miss necessary newborn care, posing serious risks to their survival and long-term well-being across the country,” she said, adding that around 950,000 children are also lacking vital vaccination services .

In Mindat, Mai Nightingale has so far helped three displaced women with childbirth. Two of them, she said, had to move on in search of safe shelter in the days leading up to the birth, causing them physical pain and possibly inducing labor.

[JC/AL Jazeera]

Mai Nightingale knows that it is extremely dangerous for women and their babies to provide medical care to pregnant women and newborns without a lack of facilities or hygienic equipment. “Although soldiers could arrest both the patients and me, I will continue to help people who need medical attention,” she told Al Jazeera. “There is no one who can help them.”

Pregnant women are also in a dangerous situation in Kayah state, where an estimated 100,000 people have been displaced since early June. On June 8, the UN Special Rapporteur on Myanmar warned of “mass deaths from hunger, disease and exposure” in Kayah due to military attacks and the blocking of food, water and medicine for those who fled to the forest.

Smile, a 24-year-old nurse, fled her village in Loikaw Town with her cousin, who was suffering from labor while trying to escape. “Artillery fell near the rock where we were hiding. That day was [my cousin’s] Due date but she couldn’t deliver… we had to get to safety, ”said Smile. “She had to carry heavy things while running.”

Smile remembered the advice of her mother, who was also a nurse, and had grabbed a delivery package with rubber gloves, tweezers and scissors on the run from the village. “My mom told me that even when the world is in chaos, medical staff can’t stop,” she said.

She and her mother rubbed alcohol into the equipment while her cousin’s husband built a bamboo and tarpaulin tent under which they gave birth to their cousin’s baby. “My mother put her hand on my cousin and prayed. By the grace of God she gave birth successfully without [heavy] Bleeding, ”said Smile.

But a tragedy struck some displaced mothers.

Little time to mourn

Khu Meh gave birth to twins on April 8 in a local clinic in Loikaw Township. One was born dead; With the other, a girl, Khu Meh fled home in mid-May. “We have traveled very far and moved from place to place and sometimes slept in the bushes,” she said. About three weeks later, the second twin died in the jungle while drinking milk on Khu Meh’s chest.

About 25 miles north, in Pekon Township, Shan State, Mary fled her home in the last week of May when she was seven months pregnant.

“The military fired every night … we were very scared to sleep at home,” she said.

She took shelter in a church, but after she was shot at on June 6, she fled again to a corn field, where, with the help of a local midwife, she gave birth to her fifth child, a young boy, under a bamboo and tarpaulin shelter.

The next week brought endless rain and Mary’s baby suddenly died. There was little time to mourn. Mary and her remaining children had to flee again a week later because of approaching soldiers.

[JC/AL Jazeera]

Although Myanmar saw both maternal and child under-five mortality rates decline between 2000 and 2017, it remained one of the riskiest places for young mothers and infants in Southeast Asia even before the coup, according to UNICEF.

The maternal mortality rate in 2017 was 250 deaths per 100,000 live births, while the under-five mortality rate was 48 children per 100,000 live births.

Al Jazeera has not been able to find data on maternal and child mortality among displaced populations in Myanmar since the coup.

Naw Winnie, a nurse from Demoso township in Kayah state, who was herself displaced by fighting, is now volunteering with a local aid group in the mountainous region from which she fled.

She told Al Jazeera that illnesses are common in young children. She has treated dozens of skin infections and diarrheal diseases, and fears that health problems will only increase due to poor hygiene due to factors such as the scarcity of clean water and the lack of toilets.

The rainy season began in June, making hygiene difficult and increasing the risk of catching colds, flu, or mosquito-borne diseases.

Naw Winnie also cares for more than 10 pregnant women.

She had originally planned to send her to a makeshift clinic near the foothills of the mountain, but the clinic’s volunteers and patients were forced to evacuate on June 16 amid heavy fighting.

Now she’s not sure what to do.

One of the women, now five months pregnant, had previously given birth by caesarean section, and Naw Winnie is concerned that the woman could bleed vaginally, but it is just too risky to have a caesarean section in the jungle.

“We don’t have access to safe and hygienic facilities or equipment to give birth to babies,” she said. “If I help with the birth of a baby without hygienic facilities, both mothers and babies will be at risk.”

source https://livehealthynews.com/myanmar-women-give-birth-in-jungle-as-military-lies-in-wait-health-news/

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