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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

Forbidden

Chapter 1

A/N- I've teased y'all for so long I hope this series is going to live up to expectations, I'm confident it will though because I'm addicted and it's been super easy for me to write - I'm up to chapter 3 so far so updates can be on time! There's a slight age gap between my professor Hemsy and OC Jess but she's twenty and completely legal. You know this is gunna be a giant tease fest for the first couple of chapters cos that sexual tension is fucking gold 🥵

Summary- Jess meets the man of her dreams and then stupidly leaves without getting his number. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 1.5 K

Pairing- Professor!Chris Hemsworth x OC

Warnings- Swearing, age gap

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th August 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

@skyfullofsong123 @swaggysposts

Chapter 2

I pulled out a chair at the last available table in the unusually busy coffee shop, I thought I might've caught a break choosing the one outside of campus but alas I was wrong.

I was about to sit down when the chair opposite me slid out from under the table, my eyes lifted to meet with the most sparkly blue eyes i'd ever seen. The sight of him took my breath away. Literally.

I stood staring, frozen on the spot, my mouth slightly ajar as I looked him up and down. He was tall, so tall, definitely over 6ft and built like a dream. Thick thighs straining against his fitted trousers, wide muscular shoulders and I just knew there was a six-pack hiding behind that tight t-shirt.

"Sorry. You were here first, I'll just grab a take-out." He smirked a side smile, amused at how I was so obviously checking him out but his sexy Australian accent distracted you from anything else.

"It's fine, I'm on my own. I don't mind if you want to sit there too." I mentally face palmed myself, drawing attention to the fact I was alone wasn't the best idea but then again he was alone too. "I don't bite." I added trying my best to flirt.

It seemed to work, he smiled at me as he sat down and I took the time to admire his handsome face. He was quite clearly a lot older than me, the laughter lines around his eyes a tell tale sign but he was still quite possibly the best looking man I'd ever laid eyes on. His hair was fair and the short beard framed his face perfectly but the one thing that stood out the most were those piercing ocean-blue eyes.

"So do you come here often?" I cocked my eyebrow at him over my coffee cup making him laugh at my reaction. "Sorry, it's been a while." He said nervously, running his hand through his hair.

"It's been a while since you spoke to a stranger or…?" I questioned casually.

"It's been a while since I spoke to an attractive woman." He finished, his eyes sparkling as he watched me almost choke on my drink.

"Oh, I err…. I don't think you're doing too badly." I absentmindedly circled my finger around the rim of my cup, crossing my leg over my other and accidently rubbing my foot up his leg. My cheeks felt hot and flushed as I looked up into his eyes and saw him smiling slyly.

"Evidently. We're already playing footsie under the table." He smiled widely, a genuine smile that stretched the corners of his mouth. I smiled back at him shyly, thinking of something to say to change the subject before I ended up looking like a tomato.

"What part of Australia are you from?"

"I'm originally from Melbourne but I lived in Byron Bay before I came to America."

"Awesome. I've always wanted to go to Australia, the Spiders put me off though."

"Yeah I think they put most people off but in heavily populated areas they stay pretty much hidden, I think it's the size that scare people." How have I made this conversation go from flirting to talking about spiders? And how do I get back to flirting?

"Are we still talking about spiders?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly and laughed at the innuendo, flicking my hair over my shoulder. I noticed something in his eyes when I did so, a hunger, just a little flash and then it was gone again. I'm sure I didn't imagine it though because his eyes lingered on my exposed shoulders.

I checked my watch subtly, not wanting him to think he was boring me but I had to get to class and couldn't be late again, not when this semester had only just started.

"I'm really sorry, I'm gonna have to run, I'm going to be late. It was really nice meeting you." I gathered up my bags, ready to leave.

"Already? You've only just got here." He looked disappointed, his smile fading. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something else and then closed again when he saw I was ready to leave. "It was really nice to meet you too, hopefully I'll see you again." His eyes sparkled as he looked into mine, standing from his chair to get the door for me. I felt fireworks when his hand brushed against the small of my back and his face lingered close to mine. The tension was unreal, like we were the only people in the room as his eyes hungrily stared into my soul, undressing me with his eyes. My heart stopped beating when his face moved closer to mine so I could feel his breath on my lips, the smell of coffee and his aftershave filling my nostrils. I paused, my feet routed to the spot, I wanted him to kiss me so badly but I moved away at the last minute. Surely he wasn't actually going to kiss me, we'd only just met, that would be ridiculous. Wouldn't it?

********

I spent most of class daydreaming about my tall handsome stranger and the way he looked at me but most of all how I didn't even get his name. Or his number.

Now I was feeling sorry for myself because it would just be my luck to meet the man of my dreams and then never see him again. So I'd moped about all day and avoided the invitations for drinks after class. Instead I'd

gotten home early, changed into some sweats and settled myself in front of the TV for the night.

"What's up with your face?" My roommate, Ellie said as she walked into our room, throwing her bags onto her bed.

"What're you talking about?"

"Your face. Looks like you're chewing on a wasp."

"Feeling sorry for myself." I pout pathetically.

"Why, what've you done now?" She rolled her eyes, kicking off her shoes and throwing her legs up onto the bed. I felt so lucky to have a roommate like Ellie, during our freshman year she'd become my best friend practically straight away and now after two years together we were practically sisters.

I sat up in bed cross legged and faced Ellie, getting myself ready to spill my misfortunes of the day with her.

"Well, I went to Impresso's this morning to get my morning coffee before class." She nodded, showing her enthusiasm by also sitting cross legged on her own bed, facing me. "And it was packed full of students, there was only one table left. So I went to grab it as soon as I could." She raised her eyebrow at me, wondering where I was going with the story. "And I kid you not, the most attractive man I have ever seen, pulls out the chair opposite me."

"Oh my god! No way. Did you talk? Oh my god, this is like the perfect chick flick. Carry on." I smiled at her excitement.

"I told him I didn't mind if he sat there, I mean of course I didn't mind, you should've seen him El. Oh, oh, oh I almost forgot" I flapped my hands, bouncing on the spot. "He was fucking Australian."

"Fuck off, you're lying. Drop dead gorgeous with the sexiest accent ever. How is this even real? Now remind me why you're sat there with a face like a slapped arse?"

"I panicked when I had to leave, didn't want to be late for class and I didn't get his number, didn't even give him chance to ask for mine."

"Wow! Ok, now I understand. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was panicking and you know what I'm like when I panic." You sulk.

"It's ok, maybe you'll bump into him again."

"Yeah, right. I should be so lucky."

"Cheer up." she says throwing a cushion at me. "There's a party at Alpha Kappa this weekend, I'm sure we can find you someone to help get over your mystery man. Or under should I say?" She raised her eyebrow at me, smiling slyly and making me laugh. She always did know how to cheer me up and maybe a party is what I needed.

There must be some good looking boys around campus that could make me forget about my Australian hunk. Surely? I thought about the guys I'd seen around campus, the guys I'd seen at frat parties and that's definitely not what I wanted. How could a twenty year old boy match to the masculine, experienced man I met this morning. My mind was set, I'd dipped my feet ever slightly into the mature pool and that's what I wanted more than anything. There was always something missing with previous boyfriends and I was tired of all the game playing. I wanted someone who knew what they wanted and wasn't afraid to get it.

The only thing was, he didn't know I was only twenty and I had no way of finding him again. If fate did bring us back together, would he mind that I was still a student? That I couldn't even drink when we went on dates?

Who am I kidding? Of course he would mind, he could get any woman he wanted, why would he want me?

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #chris Hemsworth series #chris Hemsworth X oc #mcu rpf

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httphopewrld · 4 years

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hot summer (sneak peek pt.2)!!!

He was a boy across the street—no—an attractive boy across the street who happened to be a tattoo artist. You didn’t want to do anything about it, but your friends encouraged you to either stop sulking or make a move. And you chose the latter.

Pairing: tattoo artist/neighbourjungkook! x female reader

Genre: fluff and smuuuuuut

Rating: 18+ because there’s some smuuuuuutttt (it’s the most detailed I’ve ever written, soooo proceed with caution) and swearing

Warnings: smut, soft sex, dom!/sub!jungkook, dom!/sub!femreader, penetrative sex without protection (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), bullet vibrator, oral fem receiving, creampie, fingering, making out, and swearing. There are mentions of domestic violence, but it is not detailed. It is in the perspective of the reader, who is witnessing this from a distance.

Word Count: 9,000-10,000 (each because there will be 2 parts)

A/N: Uni has been a lot, so I will be post the full part 1 on Monday. Thank you so much for waiting, and for all the support and love I’ve gotten from the previous sneak peek! Here’s a little more to keep you on your toes ;)

Also, if you’d like to be on this fic’s (and future ones) taglist, comment your username, and I’ll update this fic and have your username in future fics too!

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You looked across the traffic, into the apartment building across from yours. A boy sat back into his chair, holding a book in his hands. He began to read, of course, in a simple manner. His eyes scanned the pages, imagining the words written in his mind.

He was man, most likely, in his early twenties, but referring to him as a “man” felt odd.

You were fascinated by him. He was good looking, even from kilometres away. If you leaned against your balcony’s rails, you could see his dark wavy brown hair, his slightly sun-kissed skin, and his all-black clothing ensemble. He wore no shirt, probably from the heat or being in the comfort of his own home.

You stepped away from the railing and back into your apartment, drawing back the curtain and turning your back to the balcony.

How long have you been gawking at this stranger? Had he glanced up from his book and saw you standing there?

You drew all your curtains closed, paranoid, and embarrassed.

People crowded the city’s streets.

The sun was out, which meant everyone became runners, joggers, and walkers. People, families, and friends came out from their hideaways and into the sunshine. You, on the other hand, sat safely on your balcony.

Crowds made you nervous. You liked meeting people, but the thought of pushing through a dense mass of strangers made you shudder.

So, you watched people push and brush pass each other from ten floors up, sipping at your iced tea.

You gazed at the apartment from the other night.

It was empty.

You could see simplistic black and white art and photographs decorating the walls and modern furniture. His bedroom is to the left, with a gaping window that allowed anyone to look in. The same applied to the rest of the apartment: big windows and no curtains.

You sipped your iced tea.

You could imagine this man’s wardrobe. Minimalistic shades, and maybe some pops of colour. Chunky black sneakers and dark accessories. He must’ve been an artist of some sort.

Your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Your friend, and roommate, Ashly, chimed on the other end. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“Not at all,” you replied, setting down your drink, “what’s up?”

“I was thinking of having a get-together. There’d be wine, snacks, and music. It’d be small, maybe five people, including ourselves?”

“You want me at your party?”

“Well, it isn’t a party—just a few girls and gossip.”

You pondered for a moment. “Where is it?”

“The get-together?”

“Yes,”

“It’d be at our place in two weeks.” Ashly sighed. “Is that enough time, mom?”

You chuckled. “Yes, my child.”

“Awesome! We can plan when I come back from work.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“See ya!”

“Bye.” You hung up and looked back at the apartment.

The boy had come back. He wore a back cap, which he quickly took off and ruffled his hair, and, like a few days ago, adorned a full black ensemble. Despite the warm weather, he had worn a black leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers.

You watched him shuck off his jacket and toss it on the couch, and head to his bedroom.

He, with a lack of better words, flopped onto his bed and appeared to take a nap.

You chuckled to yourself—definitely a boy.

It had been a week since you looked back at the apartment.

You had just come back from work, and Ashly usually arrives back home an hour later.

The apartment you shared with Ashly was a carbon-copy of an IKEA display. You joked about it before, saying, “if someone were to flip through a 2019 IKEA catalogue, randomly choose a page, you’d probably think our place looked the same—or you’d find one of our pieces of furniture.”

It wasn’t a bad thing. IKEA was a popular place to shop at, and it was excellent quality.

Your furniture was various shades of white, navy blue, grey, silver, and light brown. The colour palette continued to your cutlery, kitchen items, and your bedrooms.

The place was cozy and didn’t leave room (pun intended) for a frivolous lifestyle.

The boy’s apartment was similar yet different. There was a sense of minimalism, like yours, but the furniture was dark—almost raven black.

As remarked before, there were black and white photographs and inky modern furniture. There were no colours in his home, just assorted shades.

His front door opened, and two bodies tumbled inside—his and a female.

Their bodies entangled with one and other and gripping each other’s clothes. The female’s clothes were the first to come off, exposing her bra and lack of underwear. The boy seemed pleased because he smirked before attaching his lips to her vagina.

You were shocked, scared, and worried all at once. You wanted to look away but found a curiosity within.

This man—boy—didn’t appear to have any desire to shut the world out.

You watched as this boy perform oral sex to this female—in the right way because the girl appeared to be moaning a lot—and you couldn’t look away.

It was like watching live porn, in a weird and public sense. It was, slightly, pleasurable too.

They took off their clothes shortly after the girl seemed to orgasm and engaged in penetrative sex. He took her from behind, against his couch. You, and whoever else stumbled upon this erotic scene, had a perfect view of their naked sides.

“Oh, my lord,” you gasped.

You felt the familiar tingle in your lower region.

Realizing this, you cursed under your breath and closed your curtains.

“What the fuck,” you exhaled, leaning forward on the dining table.

“I just watched my neighbour have sex,” you muttered, “and enjoyed it.”

You paced the room as if giving a lecture to a child.

“You were turned on by your neighbour having sex!” You shouted at yourself. “What the hell?! Were you fantasying? Him?! What the fuck, Y/N? Might as well be Joe Goldberg, and whip out your—”

“Y/N?”

You stopped in your tracks and turned to your front door. Ashly stood in shock.

“Are you alright?” Her Australian accent was thick with concern.

You smiled, “Never better.”

She let out a pulse of nervous laughter before tossing her keys in the small dish on the kitchen counter.

“What were you saying about Joe Goldberg? The guy from You? And why are the curtains closed?” Ashly leaned her hand against the counter, and her other on her hip. She resembled a mother about to lecture their kid about a text from a stranger.

You chuckled. “Nothing of importance—anyways, how was your day, Ash?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, Y/N. You’re not escaping this one.” She walked up to you and firmly placed both her hands on her hips. “What is all this that about?”

“Look who’s the mother now,” you muttered, making Ashly raise her eyebrow.

You inhaled a lungful of air. “The boy in the apartment across from us is having sex right now, and they’re bare-ass naked in front of their big-ass windows. I had to close the curtains because I felt like I was intruding on their sexual activity, and it was just weird that they didn’t close their own—but I feel like that boy doesn’t own any curtains—so I just closed our curtains.” You said in one breath.

Ashly’s eyes widened with shock, “What?” She walked past you and threw open the curtains.

“Ash, don’t just rip them wide open!” You rushed over and closed the curtains.

She glared at you before cracking the drapes a bit to take a look. “Oh, my God.” She gasped. “They are having sex.”

“Still?” You crouched down and peered through the break.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, “and harder than ever.”

You both watched, only for a few seconds before closing the curtains again, the boy drill into the girl. The boy faced the windows, leaving everyone to see his face and the top of the girl’s head as she tilted it back with pleasure.

“Well, he seems very good at what he’s doing,” Ashly commented, walking away as you closed the drapes.

“Ash!” You said in a loud whisper as if the boy across the street could hear.

“I’m just saying, the girl seems like she’s having the best time of her life, being pounded by that dude!” She defended.

“Jesus Christ, Ash, shut up!”

“I’m not wrong,” she shrugged.

You looked at her sheepishly, and you both burst with laugher.

Both of you spent dinner recapping your days: Ashly was currently dealing with an HR (Human Resources) problem in her company—she couldn’t go into details because of confidentiality, but it had to do with a problematic employee who was spouting racist nonsense online, which could affect the company’s image; and was immorally wrong because racism and any discrimination based on sexuality, race, religion, and so on, cannot be tolerated.

Your day and work-life were conversely dull.

You managed finances and taxes for your corporation, and the only exciting event to date was the incorrect money evaluation from a co-worker, which lead the company to believe there was wiggle-room for spending; when in reality, they were spending too much.

You pushed the pasta around in your plate while looking at the covered windows. You watched the curtains sway in the wind. Ashly had opened the windows a few minutes ago to let the hot air out of the apartment.

It was the hottest summer since you moved to the city five years ago, including the weather and the recently noticed neighbour across the street.

You continued to think about him and the way he had sex with that girl. It was romantic, yet aggressive and needy.

Fuck. You cursed.

“Hello?” Ashly waved a hand in front of your face. “I know that HR can be boring to listen to, but please try to look interested.”

You chuckled, “Sorry, Ash. I just zoned out a bit.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied, “but thank you for the apology.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m ready to watch some Netflix.” She looked at her watch, “And as it is almost eight o’clock, I think I’ll only be able to last for a ripe two hours until my old body starts to shut down.”

You laughed, taking both of your empty plates and cutlery to the kitchen. Ashly joined you, bringing the drained wine glasses.

“Care to join me?” She asked while you loaded the dishes.

“It’d be the highest honour, m’lady.”

⋅. ✯ .⋅

Reminder:

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- Mae (httphopewrld)

#jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fuff #ficswithluv

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goldensunflowers98 · 4 years

Text

Coffee House Dreams

Luke Hemmings Imagine

Please let me know what you think❤️

Aurora sighed as she blew a golden blonde curl from her line of vision once again, her fingers lightly pressing against the piano keys while trying to find the right sound. The small coffee shoppe nestled in one of the side streets of London, where her sister worked tirelessly, bustled with life, the strong scent of espresso overwhelming her senses with every inhale.

She was here almost everyday since she couldn't afford a piano this nice at home, knew most of the customers by name, and she always enjoyed a classic, sweet, vanilla cappuccino after a long day at Uni.

Aurora was a simple girl who loved the sight of rain droplets on rose petals, the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore at night, and the scent of espresso as she played the piano. She loved the color red, especially her crimson colored scrunchie that currently tied her mess of golden curls up, and she found unkind people to be the scum of the earth.

She also found the mysterious blonde haired, blue eyed boy that hid his face being a pair of sunglasses and a steaming caramel latte to be the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. He had started coming in just in the past week, but Aurora found his Australian accent positively enchanting and the dimples that appeared when he smiled made her slam her fingers down on the keys of the piano the first time she saw them, causing a loud crash of discord to sound through the small shoppe and for her to duck her blushing face when he whipped around confused.

He sat perched at the window seat across the way and Aurora noticed how he had a blueberry muffin as well today, his fingers picking at the treat as he watched the raindrops rolls down the clear glass beside him.

He looked sad today, Aurora noticed, the corner of his lips turned downwards and he anxiously fidgeted every few minutes, scratching his temple with his sweater paw.

Now, noticing she was staring like a crazy person, Aurora clears her throat, turning her attention back to the keys and the song she was trying to figure out.

Well the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blowin'

But you're stuck out in the same old storm again

The notes just don't sound as perfect as she wanted and she tries again in another key.

You hold tight to your umbrella, well, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya

That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

She groans to herself, placing her head down on the polished wood, frustrated that she couldn't even get the cords right to her own song.

"That's a beautiful song. Have you tried it starting out in 'G' though?"

She gasps in shock, jumping backwards, her sheet music flying everywhere, and she nearly falls off the piano stool as she hears the accented voice of the mysterious boy who loved caramel lattes right beside her.

He looks mortified at her reaction, his bright blue eyes that were no longer covered by sunglasses were wide and his long arms were out like he was about to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Whoa! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," he says but it's all muffled as Aurora stares up at him in shock and wonder.

This mysterious boy wasn't so mysterious after all. He was Luke freaking Hemmings from her old favorite band, 5 Seconds of Summer. She had been staring at Luke Hemmings like a certified freak for over a week now and didn't notice. She really needed to get more sleep.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. Just startled me is all. First, you're way over there and now, you're all the way over here. You must have some long legs on you," she mumbles frantically like a crazy person, picking up her sheet music and as she finishes her sentence, her eyes trail from his torso, down his long legs, and to his feet that were awkwardly doing this thing where they turned into one another. "I rest my case."

He laughs lightly at that and her eyebrows raise when he rests his latte cup on top of the piano as if he was staying awhile.

"Sorry, I tend to creep up on people without them noticing. I'm Luke, by the way," he reaches out his hand for her to shake and Aurora smiles at the sight of his red gel fingernails, her favorite color.

"Aurora... I love the red," she says, earning a brilliant beam from him with a hint of a blush. He mumbles a 'thank you' quietly, tucking a wild blonde curl behind his ear sheepishly.

"You come in here a lot. Do you live close by or something?" He asks, taking a sip of his hot drink as she assorts her music once more.

"Are you stalking me, Luke?" She smirks as he nearly chokes on his drink and starts to fumble over his words.

"N-No! No, I just hear you play every time I come in. It's quite nice and it's a small... it's a small shoppe. Oh, god... Please don't think I'm a psycho stalker," he winces behind his cup, knowing his previous words made him sound like a creep.

"I'm just kidding," she giggles with a mischievous grin, finding his nervousness to be quite funny. "It's a small and quiet coffee house. Not many new people come in, so you're a sight for sore eyes, for sure."

She furrows her brows as he doesn't really reply to her statement, looking back at the door as it chimes, lips bitten harshly by his front teeth. He looks disappointed as Andrew, the local dog walker who liked a double fudge hot cocoa after a long morning of trudging along behind a sweet saint bernard, two huskies that were brothers, Mrs. Henderson's prize winning poodle, and a teacup yorkie that had a bite of a lion, walked in.

"Waiting for someone?" She asked quietly, trying to be gentle as his face is crestfallen after checking the time.

"Uh.." he runs his hand through his curls, tugging at the roots anxiously for a moment before turning back to her. "My girlfriend. She... We've been fighting a lot recently, but she was supposed to meet me an hour ago to talk some stuff out."

Sierra Deaton, Luke's girlfriend, was a sweet girl from what Aurora observed from the tweets and Instagram posts, but every relationship had its downfalls.

"Maybe she's stuck in traffic. You know how London is," she once again tries to be gentle with his feelings and her heart aches just a bit when she sees his deep frown.

"Yeah... Maybe it's just London." He hides his upset eyes by a fake smile and Aurora finds it upsetting at just how good he seemed at that specific action; hiding his true feelings.

"Fuck," he suddenly curses, looking frantic for a second as he starts collecting all of his belongings.

"What's wrong?" Aurora asks, his nervousness making her anxiety spike.

"I'm late for rehearsal. Shit! I completely forgot," he shoves his phone in his pocket and shoots back the rest of his latte quickly. "It was so nice finally meeting you! Um, I'll probably see you tomorrow! Try starting the song out in G!" As quick as he stumbles out his words, he is out of the shoppe and Aurora watches in hazy confusion as he speed walks past the window, tugging at his hair nervously again.

"That boy is going to go bald one day if he keeps that up," she mumbles, turning back to her piano and feeling a bit confused and star struck by her encounter.

"What boy?" She hears her sister ask as she walks around the corner, taking Luke's empty mug from off the piano and placing it in the dirty dish tray she had rested on her hip.

"Just a boy, Cece," she smiles up at her older sister who looked disheveled after a long shift. "Damn, you look rough."

Celestia rolls her eyes playfully at her little sister, reaching up to maintain her jet black hair that was nothing like her sister's. You would have never have known that they were related if you had set your eyes on the curly blonde haired, green eyed, shy girl and the older, upbeat girl with obsidian hair and bright, blue eyes. "Want another cappuccino?" She asks, earning a grin and a nod from Aurora as she walks away.

Looking down at the ivory keys, Aurora hums to herself as she hovers her fingers over the 'G' key. Beginning to play the song, she can't help but grin and scribble down notes inside her tattered song journal. Maybe Luke knew what he was talking about after all.

________

The sun is dimly shining the next morning and Aurora inhales the smell of wet asphalt after the night full of rain, a small smile on her face. Turning the corner towards the coffee shoppe, she nearly stops in her tracks as she sees a familiar, teary-eyed boy through the window, sitting in his normal seat. He was alone, no coffee or muffin in sight and she watches as he buries his distraught face in his hands.

Trudging along slowly while taking looks back at the upset Luke through the window, Aurora frowns as she enters the shoppe and walks over to the counter. "Hey, Cece. I need a vanilla cappuccino, a caramel latte, and two blueberry muffins, please. Put extra caramel drizzle and whipped cream on the latte too."

She ignores her sister's confused smirk as she places the money on the counter, continuing to look over at Luke, who's shoulders were now lightly shaking with sobs. Her order is quick to arrive and she collects the cups and muffins carefully, making a beeline towards Luke's table.

"Hey, sunshine," she whispers solemnly, a gentle, comforting smile on her lips as he looks up with red rimmed eyes, a flushed nose and cheeks, and sniffles quietly.

"Hey," he croaks, wiping his eyes and looking embarrassed that she caught him in his weakest moments.

She slowly slides the muffin and caramel latte in front of him and when he looks up at her confused that she got his order right, she shrugs lightly. "Lucky guess," she says before taking the seat in front of him.

"I know we just met and aren't the best of friends, but I felt like you needed someone to talk to or else you wouldn't be sitting here in the middle of a public coffee house and crying, so... Here I am," she says, stuffing a large bite of blueberry muffin in her mouth and ignoring the crumbs that fall onto the table.

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, a dazed look in his eyes as he gazes out the window and stirs his spoon around and around the rim of his cup.

Aurora is patient, half of her cappuccino finished before he finally parts his lips to speak.

"She left me. She said she didn't want to deal with the distance when we go on tour again and that she didn't trust me to not h-hook up with other girls while I'm gone. I've never done anything but give her l-love and reasons t-to...to trust me! I would n-never cheat."

His words, heaving chest, and his trembling lip are enough to make Aurora wince in sympathy, nearly burning her tongue as he says it in the middle of her taking a larger gulp.

"I'm so sorry, Luke... I know she meant a lot to you or you wouldn't be having this reaction." He nods solemnly as her words before she continues. "If it's any consolation, she didn't deserve you after you kept trying to meet up and talk and she never showed. You tried. She didn't. Some people aren't worth your tears. I know that's not going to stop you from being upset, but it's a thought to think about."

His eyebrows furrow a bit at her words before he gives a small nod. "I guess you're right," he says, showing progress in his mood as he finally picks up his latte and takes a small sip.

It's quiet for a few more minutes and the second that Aurora sees his bottom lip start to tremble again, she panics and leans forward. "Hey," she reaches out and lightly touches his hand. "Want to get out of here? I've got this place I'd like to show you if you let me. It's a bit of a drive, but you won't regret it."

Looking down at his watch, he seems to weigh the pros and cons for a moment before giving in. "Why not?" He says, standing and throwing his jacket on as Aurora looks up, slightly dumbfounded that he accepted.

"Okay," she stands up and gets out an excited giggle, placing their cups in the bin. "Lets go"

With a wave to her sister, who was giving her a proud smirk, Luke puts on his sunglasses and they leave the coffee house, making their way to her car that was parked around the corner.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!" Luke laughs unbelievably at her cherry red 1976 Cadillac Eldorado Convertible with cream colored interior.

"Thanks! It was my granddad's!" Climbing in, she cranks the car and with an excited grin and looking both ways, she pulls out into the traffic.

The wind blows through their hair as the cruise down the roads and Aurora gently smiles when she looks over and sees Luke grinning as he looks at the scenery and people around.

"Here," She hands him her phone as she enjoys the cool breeze, placing her sunnies over her eyes. "You choose the music."

"Brave choice," he hums, taking the phone and beginning to scroll through the songs until he gets to a certain category.

"I knew it!" He shouts with a crazed laugh, Aurora giving him an odd look as she worries for his health.

"You okay there, bub?" She asks with a slight chuckle before he shoves her phone in her face with a wide grin.

"Every one of our albums, including our old EP's, and features. I knew you were a fan!" He laughs as her face drops, a blush taking over her cheeks.

"I never said I wasn't," she sticks her tongue out at him before smirking at his dumbfounded face. "Play a song, doofus." She shoves him playfully as he continues to grin, his thumb scrolling through the songs.

English Love Affair starts playing through the speakers and Aurora rolls her eyes behind her sunglasses. "I see what you did there," she laughs as he smirks over at her cheekily, his sadness hidden well, but Aurora knew it was still under the surface.

________

Oh tie up your boat, take off your coat, and take a look around

Everything is alright now

The door to the coffee shoppe chimes cheerfully the following day, making Aurora look up in curiosity. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees the familiar, lanky, blonde boy walk in but her eyes slightly widen as three other beautiful boys follow behind him.

"Holy mother of God," she mumbles to herself wide eyed as she sees Luke turn towards the piano and give her a smile and wave, making a beeline towards her with the boys in tow.

Gulping, Aurora tries to hide her shaking hands by sitting on them, nervously grinning as they come closer.

"Hey, Ro! These are my friends, Michael, Ashton, and Calum. I told them about your song and they really wanted to hear it." Aurora almost fell over as a pleasant nickname passed through his lips but what really made her vision blurry was the end of his sentence.

"O-Oh, that's so... that's so sweet, Luke. It isn't finished yet though," she frowns, biting her lip as he seems to deflate.

"Oh, well maybe next time then," he says sadly and the look on his face is enough for her to grab his hand as he starts to turn.

"Wait! I-I can show the parts I do have," she says, making his smile appear once again.

The boys all crowd around her, making her feel extremely nervous but with Luke's encouraging smile, she places her still shaking hands over the keys.

When it rain it pours but you didn't even notice

It ain't rainin' anymore, it's hard to breathe when all we know is

The struggle of staying above, the rising water line

She continues the song, trying to his cracking, nervous voice, until she no longer has any lyrics, trailing off with a quiet hum and shaky exhale. "That's all I've got so far," she looks up to see the four boys grinning at her widely.

"She's perfect, Luke," Calum says over to Luke proudly and Ashton nearly jumps up and down.

"Such a smart breadstick, you!" Ashton pats him hard on the back as Michael continues to smile but stay the calm one.

"I don't understand," Aurora nervously picks at her bottom lip as they continue to talk excitedly amongst themselves. That's when she realizes her music journal that was testing on the piano is in Ashton's hand and they are all flickering through the pages with excited grins.

"Um, excuse me," her eyebrows are now furrowed as they read her personal songs and words from her heart and Luke looks up as they hear the edge in her tone.

"Sorry, Ro," He yanks the journal out of their hands and places it back on the piano with an apologetic wince. "I think we owe an explanation." When she nods annoyed, he gulps and continues. "We are in a band called 5 Seconds of Summer."

"I know this... Plus, there's only four of you," she deadpans as Ashton snickers in the back.

"Anyway! We are in a band and we are looking for an opening act and someone to sign, but we didn't want anyone to mainstream or famous. We think you'd be perfect to open for us."

Aurora stares up at them in shock, her mouth becoming dry.

“So... what do you say?” Luke asks, his cheeks turning slightly red.

What should she say?

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be11atrixthestrange · 4 years

Text

Wendell Wilkins

Ludo Bagman meets a peculiar man at a bar.

It seemed like a normal bar. A normal muggle bar. And he really needed some normal right now. Ludo figured it unlikely there was anyone from the Ministry waiting to arrest him in an Australian muggle bar, so he took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

He took a seat at one of the barstools and noticed his reflection staring right back at him. He observed his appearance from a few different angles in the mirror on the wall behind the bar. His self-transfiguration was holding up pretty well. The red tint of his hair still looked relatively natural, or at least, like a natural attempt at an amateur hair-dye job, which made him look even more like a muggle. His eyes were unrecognizably brown, and his stature was exactly the same, because he knew that a completely different appearance would look suspicious to a British Auror.

Ludo had gotten himself into quite a bit of trouble back in England. As it turns out, it's hard to hide magic from muggles, especially if you're married to one. Eleanor's gullibility only took her so far, and when she caught Ludo levitating objects around the house, he couldn't explain himself.

He did his best to convince her it was all in her head, but unfortunately, gaslighting her wasn't the savior to his marriage he'd hoped it would be. When he came home to find her standing in their empty home, bags packed, he knew he'd never see her again. So he pulled out his wand, and wiped himself from her memory, even though it broke his heart to do so.

He was almost relieved to receive that letter from the Ministry notifying him of his crime— breaking the statute of secrecy. He laughed when he read it. If that was the only crime they had records of, good on him. He wasn't concerned about getting caught, he was concerned that they finally knew his address after all these years. But he was grateful. It was the perfect excuse to flee the country, and finally leave the memories of his happy marriage behind him. Another fresh start.

"I'll have a Newcastle," said a familiar accent beside him.

Ludo stiffened in his seat. He wasn't expecting to hear another British accent in a Melbourne bar. The likelihood of randomly sitting next to an incognito Auror was so small, he convinced himself not to worry. At least not yet.

The man next to him appeared about ten years older than him. He had dark but greying hair, thick glasses, the appearance of someone who had just gotten off an airplane, and was trying to kill time before checking into a hotel. His clothes looked expensive, but it also looked like he hadn't changed them in days. It was a peculiar appearance.

"What's the name for the tab?" asked the barkeep.

The man next to Ludo paused before he answered. "Wilkins."

Fake name, thought Ludo. He would know, because he frequently had to pause in order to remember his alias of the day.

The man named 'Wilkins' accepted his Newcastle, thanked the barkeeper, and then pulled out a notebook from his bag. Ludo turned to observe the man more closely. The notepad was already covered in neat, tiny writing, and he squinted as he read it again, a thoughtful look on his face. Ludo thought it unlikely that he recognized him, and figured his best approach would be to make conversation with the man. Worst case scenario, he'd know quickly if he had to make a run for it. Best case, he'd find out the man really wasn't a British wizard in disguise.

"Did you just fly in from London?" asked Ludo.

The man turned to look at Ludo, eyeing him up and down before shaking his head. "Been here a few months. You're from England?"

Ludo nodded. "First time in Melbourne." He extended a hand toward the man. "Leo Wilson," he stated, offering a fake name.

The man looked him in the eye before accepting his handshake. "Wendell."

Wendell Wilkins, thought Ludo. It still sounded fake, but then again, so did Leo Wilson. "Nice to meet you, Wendell," he said with a nod. He turned back at the barman. "I'll have a Newcastle too."

When he had his drink in hand, he raised his glass to Wendell. "To England," he said. The two men clinked glasses and took a sip.

"What brings you to Melbourne?" asked Wendell.

Ludo shrugged. "A change of scenery," he said. "What about you?"

Wendell paused and took a long swig of his beer before he answered. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I guess me and my wife just wanted something new." Ludo narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the man. It sounded like he hadn't quite thought through his backstory. Wendell diverted the question expertly. "Do you have a wife?"

"Had."

An empathetic look crossed Wendell's face. "Sorry to hear that."

Ludo shrugged. "It happens. What about you?"

Wendell nodded. "Monica. But if it makes you feel any better, things with her haven't been great since we came to Australia."

This sparked Ludo's curiosity. "That's too bad," he said insincerely. "Problems with the ladies. That calls for another round, I believe." He had an ulterior motive of course. Maybe if Wendell drank just a little bit more, he would reveal whether or not he was a threat. He ordered them each a second beer, and the men toasted to their marital problems, and drank.

He listened intently as Wendell recounted his relationship issues. Evidently, things had just felt off between him and Monica since their arrival in Australia. They couldn't quite remember why they decided to move, and they argued about it constantly.

There were some weird things they couldn't explain, like the general fogginess, the forgetfulness, and the constant deja vu. They couldn't seem to agree about very simple aspects of their former lives, such as what town they used to live in, where they worked, and who their friends were. Something big seemed to be missing, and neither of them could put a finger on what it was.

They blamed it on each other, and assumed what was missing was passion. Love. They decided they had moved to Australia to reignite the missing flame of their marriage, but clearly, it wasn't working.

Wendell had other theories, but they didn't sit well with his wife. His theory was that something was missing from their lives, it had nothing to do with their marriage, and it wasn't an accident. Wendell thought something sinister was going on, but Monica thought he was crazy.

"Be honest," said Wendell after draining his second beer. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

Ludo motioned to the bartender to order a third round. "No, I don't think you're crazy."

It was true. Ludo didn't think Wendell was crazy at all. And unless Wendell was a particularly gifted actor, he definitely wasn't a wizard in disguise.

Wendell was a muggle. An obliviated muggle. Ludo was sure of it.

There was no recognition in Wendell's eyes as he talked about his past life. It was the same empty stare he saw in Eleanor after he wiped himself from her memory, and it broke his heart. Seeing that same fog in Wendell's expression broke his heart all over again.

"What's the notebook for?" asked Ludo, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Wendell looked hesitant at first, before sliding the notebook over toward Ludo. "Sometimes, when I drink, I remember things, and I write them all down. I draw them if there aren't words."

Ludo studied the writing on the page before him. At first, it looked like gibberish, but he started to decipher patterns in the letters. The letters "HJG" appeared over and over.

"What is HJG?" he asked.

Wendell glanced around him as if he was concerned someone would overhear him. He shifted closer to Ludo before he answered. "I think they are initials."

"Your initials?"

Wendell shook his head. "Although Wendell Wilkins doesn't feel like my real name, I've given up trying to remember my own initials. I think those were the initials that I was meant to forget."

Ludo scowled at the paper. He turned to a previous page, where Wendell had drawn a picture of a large orange tabby cat. He turned the page again, this time revealing four words in a slanted scrawl that repeated across the page.

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

Ludo felt his breath catch in his throat. "What does this mean?" he asked, although he knew perfectly well what it meant.

Wendell sighed. "It's Latin for 'never tickle a sleeping dragon'. It sounds mental, I know." He took another sip of his beer before shrugging. "It felt important."

It was important. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus was the Hogwarts school motto. There was no way Wendell had written that down by coincidence. The motto was part of the school emblem, which appeared on the uniforms, the school post, and any memorabilia that a student might take home to their parents. Ludo remained certain that Wendell was a muggle, because even the most skilled obliviater couldn't wipe their own magic from someone's memory. There was only one other way Wendell would know the school motto.

"Wendell, do you have any children?"

Wendell sat up straight and looked Ludo in the eye. He appeared to study him, as if determining what answer he should give. He must have seen an earnest expression in Ludo because he eventually nodded. "A daughter. At least I think I do. I just can't quite remember."

They sat there in silence for a while. Ludo couldn't help but think about his wife— ex-wife, and wonder. Where did she go when she walked away from him with that blank stare in her eye? Did she have a notebook full of scribbles that hardly made sense to her? Was she currently sitting at a bar trying to remember her marriage? Was she also living in a constant fog, questioning her own sanity?

He had never once stopped to think about the lasting effects before he wiped her memory. Instead, he naively assumed it simply erased his problems, and moved on. But now, watching 'Wendell', sipping away at his third Newcastle, he was faced with a harsh reality. This man clearly hadn't been home in days. He looked like he hadn't slept in longer. He was three drinks deep on a weekday morning, scribbling nonsense into a notebook, and telling a complete stranger about his forgotten daughter. He clearly wasn't doing well.

Ludo was positive he'd never see Eleanor again. He'd never be able to help her. But maybe he could make up for that, by helping Wendell right now. He'd already broken the statute of secrecy once, what would be the harm in doing it again?

"Wendell, do you want to find her?"

He squinted at Ludo, assessing his seriousness. "That's what I've been trying to do."

Ludo nodded and looked straight at Wendell's somber, yet hopeful eyes. He took a deep breath. "I can help you."

Wendell narrowed his eyes skeptically. "How could you possibly help me?"

Ludo took another sip, as if to fill him with more courage. He was good at lying to muggles, but not telling the truth. He tried to ignore the feeling of foreboding that came over him, telling him that this was a bad idea. If he couldn't give the truth to Eleanor, he owed it to Wendell.

Wendell needed a friend, and so did he. This would be good.

"I can help you, because I'm a wizard. And I know what happened to you."

There was a prolonged silence. Ludo stared directly at his Newcastle, but he felt Wendell's eyes on him, burning a hole through him. He reluctantly turned to face him.

Wendell's expression was unreadable, but the blankness that characterized his eyes before had all but disappeared. His face was filled with recognition.

Was it hopefulness? Sadness? Shock? Ludo couldn't tell. After all, he didn't really know Wendell. He was a complete stranger. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.

Then Wendell spoke softly and stiffly, as if it required a great effort to steady his voice. "You're capable of making people forget?"

Ludo sighed. Then nodded. "I'm also capable of helping them remember."

"Are you the one who did this to me?" he nearly whispered.

Ludo shook his head firmly. "No."

"Did you do this to your wife?"

Ludo froze, regretting sharing any information about Eleanor. Although he never answered affirmatively, his hesitation confirmed Wendell's suspicions.

"Shame on you."

"Wendell, just trust me—,"

"No!" Wendell shouted, loudly enough that a few people looked up. He looked around self-consciously and whispered, "I could never trust you."

Ludo studied him. Anger, and fear. That's the expression he read. He saw the same emotions on Eleanor's face right before he obliviated her.

"Everything ok here?" asked the barman, clearing both Ludo and Wendell's empty bottles.

"Yes," said Wendell, still glaring at Ludo.

"Ok then," said the man, before disappearing behind the bar.

"Don't talk to me anymore," said Wendell, who swiped his notebook back, and turned to face the bar.

Ludo could have left it at that. He should have left it at that. But his moral compass had never pointed due north, and he couldn't stand the thought of someone else knowing he was a criminal. Especially someone who didn't trust him. He was supposed to be in hiding.

Maybe he could fix it. He fished for his wand in his pocket, making sure to slip it almost entirely up his sleeve before pulling it out. He pointed his forearm toward Wendell, who must have felt Ludo's gaze on him, because he turned toward him.

Wendell's gaze drifted down to Ludo's sleeve, and his eyebrows shot up. "What the hell are you—"

"Obliviate," muttered Ludo, and he watched the anger and recognition fade from Wendell's eyes, and they were suddenly strangers again. Wendell turned back to the pages of his notebook, and ran his fingers over the words Draco Dormiens Nunquam Tittilandus. Ludo felt his stomach sink as he mourned the loss of a potential friendship. Part of him wanted to try again, because he really could help Wendell, and Wendell seemed just as lonely as Ludo. He opened his mouth to speak, and almost introduced himself for the second time.

But he didn't. Even though his moral compass wasn't always correct, it sometimes got close, and at this moment, it seemed like the right thing to do was to let Wendell be. So he held his tongue, and hoped he would find his daughter someday. Ludo fished his wallet out of his pocket, and left enough muggle money on the bar to cover Wendell's last three drinks.

"I'll have a Newcastle."

It was the last thing Ludo heard Wendell say, before he stood up, and left the bar.

#hp fanfic #hp ficlet #hp fandom #hp fanfiction

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 4

Warnings: none. Just some cute Ovi and little kids ;)

Tagging: @valkyrie-of-the-light, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

It is a fifteen-minute drive into town; a picturesque central area with a healthy mixture of both low and high end shops and numerous eateries and cafes. In the winter it is reminiscent of a Dickens novel; snow covered trees and streets, the Victorian area store fronts boasting immaculate decorations and displays in their front windows, white lights strung from almost every available surface, and a skating rink in the centre of it all. In the summer, when tourists flowed into the area and brought in the most money for the economy, the sidewalks were full of patios and lined with immaculate floral gardens. Telluride is a small town, and regular residents all seemed to know one another; conversing in front of the bank and post office, catching up on gossip and talking about high school sports. Tyler’s already exchanged pleasantries and small talk with five people, and that was when just stepping out of the car.

When they’d first arrived, talk had spread fast about the new family in town. They’d spent four months living with her parents and getting on their feet before buying able to buy a home with their joint savings and money that Mahajan had managed to scrap together and give as thanks for taking care of his son. Nik had taken it upon herself to act as the ‘small town gossip’, quickly using some of her contacts to spread small little rumours about who they were: an ex Australian Army soldier who’d been injured in Afghanistan and forced to retire at a young age, his young pregnant wife and their baby girl, and a kid that they’d adopted after losing both of his parents. It had managed to keep people from asking too many questions when they’d show up unannounced at the house with various casseroles and baked goods and welcoming gifts. Every so often someone would ask about his service record and just what happened that forced him to leave at such a young age and Tyler would just repeat the same old bullshit about arthritis and nagging injuries and show off some of the more prominent scars that marred his body. Just like five years ago in Dhaka, people had taken to them. They were young, friendly, always willing to lend a hand if someone needed it. Never too accessible, but just accessible enough. Never free and easy with their personal information, but giving out just enough that kept people curious. And when he started his own business, word travelled fast and within a week he had a client list of over two dozen. On his first day of school, Ovi already had people waiting to meet him. Interested in who the kid with the ex Army Aussie dad was.

Even five years later it is a novelty of sorts: an Australian living in their small town. They’re intrigued by his accent and his slang and always want to hear stories about ‘the land down under’. Even now he couldn’t go into the hardware store or into the pharmacy to buy diapers without someone wanting to hear all about kangaroos and koalas and was it really true they had spiders the size of dinner plates? He humoured them for the most part; slightly annoyed when they attempted to copy the way he talked. What was the saying? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery? He’d just laugh it off and they’d think it was hilarious whenever he called them mate.

The twins and Millie had decided to tag along; the boys wanting mohawks done at the barber and their sister wanting ice cream. The little mom and pop candy store was always one of their stops when they happened to make it into town, and she wasn’t about to let her father forget about it.

“I can take her,” Ovi offers, still trying to make up for his huge fuck up the night before. “I could use some ice cream too.”

“Oh please, daddy?! Please?!” Millie gushes, as she waits for him to unload her brothers from their car seats before tending to her. “Can Ovi take me for ice cream? Let Ovi take me for ice cream!”

“Sometimes I think you love him more than me,” he teases, as he leans across the back seat to unbuckle her, and in response she curls both arms around his neck and gives him a sloppy, noisy kiss on the forehead.

“I don’t love anyone more than you daddy.”

“Not even mommy?”

“Mommy is a close second. Don’t tell her that though. It might make her sad.”

“What about your brothers? Where are they on your list?”

“Oh they are wayyyy down there. Like between broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

“You hate broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

Her eyes narrow. “Exactly.”

He can’t help but laugh at the seriousness in her voice, at the frown that takes over her face, the way her normally brilliant blue eyes grow dark. So much like him in so many ways. He sees it all the time; in all of his kids. Certain facial expressions and mannerisms that he long ago recognized in himself.

“Okay, I know they piss you off, but they’re still your brothers,” he reminds her, as she clambers out of the SUV.

“Maybe they’re adopted,” she sounds hopeful at the idea, and then rolls her eyes at them when they start harassing her about her dress and her pig tails.

“I hate to break it to you, but they’re not. They definitely came out of mommy’s tummy. I was there. I saw it happen.”

“But how’d they get in there? Maybe other babies got put in her tummy by accident.”

“Naw, I was there for that too. So sorry. You’re stuck with the brothers you have.”

She’s side eyeing them now, with absolute disdain despite the fact they’re actually behaving and just waiting patiently for their dad to lock the car and set the alarm. He recognizes that look, too. He’s used it many times himself when someone’s mere presence has annoyed the shit out him.

“They’re just so…ughhh…” she huffs dramatically.

That’s definitely more her mother coming out.

“But at least I have you, right Ovi?” she curls a hand around two of his fingers and gazes up at him adoringly. “At least you won’t pick on me and pull my hair and do stupid boy stuff. You’re like an older brother, right? That’s what mommy always says. That you’re practically my big brother. Is that true?”

The kid looks as if he may burst into tears at the mere thought of it. “If that’s what you want. Do you want me to be your big brother? I’ve always wanted a little sister.” He’s always seen her that way. She’d been his first hands on experience with babies and he’d relished every moment. Never once complaining when he was asked to change a dirty diaper or she threw up on his clothes. He was a natural, calm, patient, compassionate. A surprise, considering he’d never been brought up experiencing any of those traits.

“I can be your little sister,” she offers, and picks his arm up and slings it around her shoulders.

It takes him a moment to compose himself. And he blinks his eyes several times and clears his throat and then smiles down at her.

“I’d like that.”

****

When he was a kid, this place would have been paradise. An entire wall devoted to clear plastic cylinders filled with a rainbow of various candy, display cases showing of chocolates in all kinds of shapes and even cartoon characters and over two dozen different flavours of fudge. There’s even an old fashion milkshake and ice cream bar on the far wall, serving everything from basic cones to sundaes with dozens of available toppings, and enormous banana splits.

Oh, to be a child again! He longed for those days. Not his childhood and his previous life in India; spent as a prisoner in his own home because of his father’s evil misdoings. But a childhood that would be much simpler. Worry free. Where he could actually be a kid and enjoy all the innocence that came with it. If he could choose, he would pick this moment, this place, this family, to experience as a child. In a home where he felt safe. Valued. Respected. Loved. Where his opinions and his feelings are validated, and he can speak without being spoken to. Where there is more laughter than there were tears. More smiles than harsh raised voices.

And love. Lots and lots of love.

That is what he witnessed in his new home, with his new family. He’d been made to feel as if he was loved just as much as the biological children. He was valued. Seen as a person and not a thing. Tyler and Esme never said those three little yet powerful words, but he felt them. In the way they expressed pride in his school accomplishments, in the way they helped him battled his issues since the incident in Dhaka five years ago, how they encouraged him to always try his best and learn from his mistakes. Even when he was younger and being disciplined, there was love in it. They only wanted what was best for him and hated to see him wandering down difficult paths.

No. They never said it. Neither did he. But it was all around him. And inside of him.

Half a dozen customers linger in the store; a small family picking out candy, a couple sitting on the stools at the counter, and a solo man sitting in one booth at the very back. A trucker style hat pulled low over his eyes, sleeves of brightly coloured tattoos visible under his t-shirt, a mug of black coffee and that day’s newspaper in front of him. He glances up as they enter; his eyes locking on Ovi’s for a split second, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ovi finds it a tad unsettling. He’s spent a lot of time wandering the town and in and out of the various shops and he’s never seen that face before. And in Telluride, newcomers stick out like sore thumbs.

Millie tightly holds his hand and happily skips alongside of him, pausing every couple of feet to spin in a circle; commenting on the way her dress looked when she twirled. Because that’s how the princesses’ dresses moved in all the movies she’s seen, and she would very much like to be a princess when she’s old.

And a firefighter.

“That’s quite the combination,” he remarks. “A princess and a firefighter? Are you going to wear your tiara and your princess dress when you go to fires?”

“Maybe the dress, but not the tiara,” she says. “Because I wouldn’t be able to get my helmet on.”

Pretty sound logic.

He notices the way people watch them, mostly out of curiosity. That sweet little girl in her blue and white gingham dress and her light up Frozen sandals. With her unruly hair and her huge blue eyes, her hand tightly clutching his. They probably think he’s a babysitter. Or a family friend. But truth be told, he is closer to her than he’s ever been to any of his blood family.

“Let’s see what we want,” he says, and scoops her up into his arms, settling her on his hip in the same fashion he’s seen Tyler use so many times. And she curls an arm around his neck and pushes her unruly hair out of her eyes and leans forward as far she can go in order to get a closer look at the tubs of ice cream laid out in the freezer before them. He doesn’t know why he bothers. She orders the same thing every time they’re there.

“Aren’t you a lucky little girl,” the cashier says, as she rings up their order. “Having a friend take you out for ice cream.”

“Oh, he’s not my friend,” Millie informs her. “He’s my brother.”

The woman arches an eyebrow.

“What she means is…” Ovi attempts an explanation of his own, but Millie jumps right in.

“Just ‘cause we look different doesn’t mean he’s not my brother. ‘Cause he is. My mommy and daddy adopted him when his mommy and daddy died. He didn’t have anywhere else to live so mommy and daddy let him live with us. I also have three other brothers.”

“Are they adopted to or…”

“Nope. They’re my real brothers. They have the same mommy and daddy as I do. Two little brothers were enough and when mommy was having another baby, I really wanted a little sister. Or a puppy. Puppies don’t cry all the time and wake me up in the middle of the night and steal my toys. But nope, another brother,” she’s clearly disgusted by that fact. “How come so many boys? Daddy says that some people just have lots of boys and others have lots of girls and some just have a little of both. But mommy says daddy is a boy making machine. Whatever that means.”

“I am so sorry,” Ovi apologizes. “She likes to talk.”

“My brothers that came right after me are twins,” she continues, taking the cashier’s wide-eyed interest and awe at her precociousness as her cue to keep going. “Tanner. And Tyler. Tyler’s my daddy’s name too. My baby brother is Declan. He’s the cutest one. The other two are just way too annoying. And Declan doesn’t pick on me and pull my hair. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t…” she makes a fist, as if to signify she’s going to punch him in the face if he doesn’t tow the line.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ovi notices the tattooed man in the trucker hat slipping out of his booth; mug of coffee and newspaper in his hands as he moved closer to them. Dropping into one of the stools closest to the entrance. He shifts nervously from foot to foot; keeping one arm tight around Millie as he pocked his change and then carries her and their treats to the nearest table. He makes sure that he’s facing the door. Tyler has always told him that is was the smart thing to do; you didn’t want to be surprised by trouble sneaking up on you.

He hates that he’s still so paranoid. That the nightmare he’d gone through in Dhaka still bothers him to this day. It’s his cross to bear; painful and heavy. And some days he just wishes he could ease the burden on his tired shoulders.

Instead of taking the seat across from him, Millie slips in right beside him, kneeling on the vinyl bench in order to reach her ice cream. She happily digs in; spooning the bubble gum flavoured concoction into her mouth as she rattles on about gymnastics and martial arts and how she really wishes that daddy didn’t hate hockey so much, because she’d really like to learn how to play it. And how to hit people really hard and fight them. And as he listens intently and offers up nods and appropriate responses, he casually keeps an eye on the stranger seated at the counter. Ovi knows he’s watching them. He can feel it every time he looks away to pay attention to Millie.

“Ovi?” she suddenly asks, as she licks ice cream off her fingers.

“Yeah?”

“What does daddy do? What’s his job?”

“He fixes up houses and makes them nice again. And helps people do things they’re not able to do in their own homes. You know that.”

“I don’t mean that job. I mean his other job. The one that Auntie Nik always calls him on the phone about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I…”

“He always leaves in the middle of the night and then he’s gone in the morning and I’m mad that he didn’t even say goodbye,” she continues. “And then he’s gone a long time and mommy is really sad and cries about it. She tries to say that she doesn’t cry, but I hear her when she thinks I’m asleep. I know she’s worried about daddy. Is he doing bad things?”

“No,” he assures her. “He’s not.”

“I don’t like that he’s gone all the time. It makes me sad. And then I can’t sleep because I’m sad and daddy isn’t there to tuck me in and read me a story. Where is he? Where does he go? Mommy says he’s far away, but he still calls us every night. It makes me feel better when he calls. ‘Cause I can hear his voice.”

“He’s a lot of different places,” Ovi explains. “He travels a lot.”

“But what does he do? What kind of job is it?”

“He helps people. People that are in trouble.”

“Are bad guys after the people?”

He nods. “The bad guys are after them and your dad goes and helps them get away. He rescues good people from bad people.”

Her eyes widen and her voice is above a whisper, speaking in astonished awe. “You mean like a superhero?!”

He grins. “Just like a superhero.”

“Like the Avengers?!”

“Just like them. Just like Thor.”

“Oh, he’s my favourite!” she gushes. “Mommy’s too because she says he’s a total snack.”

“I wouldn’t tell your dad that. About mom thinking Thor’s a snack. Or about how you know he’s a superhero. He doesn’t see himself that way and he doesn’t like to talk about it. You know how some superhero’s keep it a secret and no one knows who they are? That’s how it is with your dad. So we’ll just keep it between us, okay? You don’t want to embarrass him, right?”

“I’m not brave, mate.”

“Of course you are. You rescue people.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes I do other things.”

“You mean like killing people?”

Ovi can hear that conversation as if it were just yesterday. At Gaspar’s house, when he’d asked Tyler if he’d always been brave. How could you not be? When you willingly put your own life on the line to save the lives of others? Even if there was money involved, it still took a lot of courage to go into a situation where you didn’t know if you’d survive or not. Tyler and his father were nothing alike. His father had killed people with horrible intentions. Tyler kills because he has to. To save others and himself. He would never tell the little girl beside him that. Those details are difficult to digest and painful to hear about, and she doesn’t need to know them until she is older.

And maybe not even then.

“Ovi?” she asks once again, and he uses the tip of his thumb to clear ice cream from the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“That man is giving me the creeps.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, tries to play it cool. “What man?”

“That one,” her eyes narrow once more as she glares at the stranger in question. “He keeps looking at us. Why does he keep looking at us?”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute. Or he’s jealous because you have ice cream and he doesn’t.”

“We could always ask him,” she suggests. “About why he’s staring at us.”

“Or we could just mind our own business and eat our ice cream. We don’t want it to melt, do we?” he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her a little closer and a little tighter to his side.

***

The chime above the door sounds as it swings open and Ovi watches as Tyler and the boys enter; the twins being maneuvered over the threshold with a large, strong hand gripping the back of their shirts, effectively steering them in the right direction. Both have mohawks now; one with frosted green tips, the other blue, and Ovi grins at the sight of Tyler’s own new look. Or was it in an old look? Newish oldish perhaps? The same cut he’d sported when they first five years ago. He remembers how he’d been intrigued by it; no one at school would dare have their hair cut like that and there was no way his own father or any of those paid to watch him would have ever allowed him to get it done.

He also notices it’s a bad knee day. That limp a little more prominent than usual.

“Over here boys,” he says to his sons, and with a gentle push with his thighs sends them the right way.

Ovi clears his throat noisily, making it a point to catch Tyler’s attention. And when their eyes lock, he makes a small nod in the direction of the man sitting at the counter. Pretending to be immersed in his paper as the cashier refills his coffee mug. Through the lenses of his sunglasses, Tyler’s able to check him out without even being noticed, and Ovi sees the way his head barely moves as he gives the stranger a once over; his brow slightly furrowed, lips set in a thin line.

“Hi daddy!” Millie cheerfully greets as he approaches the table, and Ovi notices how the stranger finally looks up; no expression on his face as he eyes Tyler from head to toe. “What’s up with your hair?”

“Most of it’s gone. Why? You don’t like it?”

She frowns. “It’s kinda weird.”

“Blame your mother. She likes it like this. Get in,” he instructs his sons, and helps each of them by grabbing the back of their shorts and lifting them onto the bench.

“Nice hair cuts boys,” Ovi enthuses, and he gets high fives from each of them. “Very cool. What’s up with the colour though?”

“My wife’s going to kill me,” Tyler laments, and then heads off to purchase ice cream for the twins. Ovi notices yet again that the man at the counter watches him intently; brows arching as he takes in the tall, powerful frame.

Impressed, maybe? A little intimidated? Even now Ovi himself found it hard not to be. When you’re that tall and you’re back and shoulders are that broad and your muscles are that big, you tend to draw attention to yourself. Mostly it was from women. Ovi noticed that a lot. The females like Tyler’s big muscles and his blue eyes.

Tyler slides into the seat across from him, removing his sunglasses, placing them on the tabletop and then getting the twins settled with their ice cream. He’s a good dad. Ovi has always thought so. He’s a gentler version of himself when he’s in ‘dad mode’; his features softening, his voice not as gruff. Calm and patient.

“What’s up with that guy?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of the counter.

“He’s been staring at us,” Millie answers for Ovi, as she ducks under the table, crawls to the other side and then resurfaces and climbs onto her dad’s lap. “It’s creepy.”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute,” her father reasons. “Or he wants your ice cream.”

“That’s what Ovi said. Hey!” she flashes a dramatic pout when he helps himself to some of her treat.

“He’s just been sitting there,” Ovi says. “He was here before we got here.”

“What’s he be doing?”

“Sitting. Reading the paper. Drinking coffee.”

“And watching us,” Millie pipes up. “Super creepy. I don’t like creepers.”

Tyler chuckles at the use of the word ‘creepers’, and running a palm over her hair, drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You definitely are your mother’s daughter.”

“You ever seen him before?” Ovi asks. Tyler’s in town more than he is; always at the hardware store picking things up for his side business.

“Don’t think so. I think I’d remember a face like that. Definitely doesn’t fit in around here.” But then again, neither did he really. With the accent and the tattoos and the scars. And now the haircut.

“People are weird,” Tanner chimes in. He’s the observant one out of the two boys; the kind that sits back and quietly takes in a situation or an environment, brain coming up with different scenarios and outcomes. Wise and intelligent beyond his years.

“You’re one to talk with that haircut,” his father teases, and nudges him playfully with his elbow. “You realize your mother is going to seriously hurt me, yeah? She’s not going to be happy at all. Think it’s worth it? Think it’s worth me having to sleep on the couch for the rest of my life?”

His son nods enthusiastically.

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus. Now I remember why your brother is my favourite,” he’s teasing of course, and reaches across the bench to gently and playfully pinch his name sake just below the ribs.

Ovi notices just how much they all actually do like alike. The same facial features: blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes, almost the exact same colour and texture of hair, the same noses and ears. Even the same smiles and mannerisms. The way they will each smirk and cock their heads to the side when they’re sensing someone else’s bullshit.

There are definitely some extremely strong genes on Tyler’s side of the family.

“He’s coming this way,” Ovi whispers, as the stranger slides off his stool, and folds his newspaper and puts it under his arm before carrying his empty cup to the cash register.

He’s average height and has a stocky build. Nothing remarkable about him at all save for the arms full of tattoos.

Tyler casually watches him; legs stretched out under the table, an arm across the back of the booth. If he senses something is up, Ovi can’t tell for sure. There’s no darkness to his eyes or furrows across his brow.

The other man turns towards them now, briefly pausing at the side of their table as he looks down at Tyler, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Can I help you, mate?” Tyler asks. Calm. Cool. Collected. It was a trait that Ovi admired; the ability to stare someone down yet remain completely relaxed and expressionless.

“Just admiring your family. I’ve got a few kids of my own back home. Just made me miss them seeing you all together.”

“Where’s back home?”

“Chicago.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I could say the same about you. Accent and all.”

Tyler nods slowly. “Here for business or…?”

Ovi enjoys watching the process. The way the questions come so easily and never seem prodding or invasive. Tyler’s expression and tone never wavering.

“You could say that. What brought you here?”

“The wife’s from Colorado. Decided to move here when we started having kids.”

“Definitely a nice place to be. Well you all take care. Enjoy your family. Kids are a special gift. Don’t take it for granted.”

Tyler nods, then casts a casual glance over his shoulder, watching as the man heads through the shop and out the front door.

“Anything?” Ovi asks expectantly. “Feels weird, right?”

“Felt like it’s just a guy away from home and missing his family. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like. He probably just wanted someone to talk to.”

“But the way he was watching us. The way he was watching Millie…”

“Maybe he has a little girl of his own and she reminds him of her.”

“So you felt nothing? You didn’t feel like there’s something weird? Something’s going on?”

Tyler smirks. “Not every strange person is out to get us, mate. Sometimes people are just weird. Or lonely. Sometimes they just want someone to talk to and don’t know how to go about it. Remember how you felt when you first moved here? How different it was and you didn’t have any friends? It’s like that. But a hundred times worse. A guy’s thousands of miles from home, missing his wife, missing his kids, maybe having a shit day. So he wants to reach out to someone.”

“So you really felt nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Just a normal guy missing his family, kid. That’s all. Thought you were getting a handle on this. The paranoia. It’s been five years. If someone from back home was after you, they’d have found you by now.”

“You don’t worry? About people from your past coming to find you?”

“If I just my entire time worrying about stuff like that, I’d never leave the house. And let’s not get too into it, yeah?” he nods down at Millie and then over at the twins. “Little ears and all.”

He likes to keep things on the downlow as far as the kids are concerned. They’re young and vulnerable. Impressionable. And telling them that their dad helps people is one thing, but telling them that he sometimes has to hurt and even kill people to do it, is a different beast all on its own.

“Does chocolate milk come from brown cows?” TJ suddenly asks, effectively breaking the mood.

“Excuse me?” his father laughs. “What?”

“Well if the white milk comes from the black and white cows, where does the chocolate milk come from?” his son continues. “Brown cows, right?”

“That’s not how it works,” Tyler chuckles. “That’s not how any of that works. It comes from putting chocolate in white milk.”

“What about the grass?” Tanner’s turn now. “How come the grass is green and the sky is blue?”

“That’s a simple one,” Tyler says. “If the sky was green like the grass, you wouldn’t know where to stop mowing.”

Ovi can’t help but laugh at that. The way it is said with the utmost seriousness and how the kids are now both in awe that their dad knew that and thinking he’s apparently the smartest man on the planet. He’s able to relax again. Calmed by the fact that he’s with his people.

His family.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #chris hemsworth character #extraction #sanctuary

12 notes · View notes

curiouswildi · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @ren-ofthesith thank you!!! 😗💕

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?

wooden brown

2. A food you never eat?

This one is hard, i could eat cardboard if it is well seasoned. Insects maybe? I could never eat one of those bizarre insects extravagant meals 🕷.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?

As you all already know I live on the surface of the sun, so I'm always hot 😓☉

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

On a meeting. Go to my previous post to see what the work presentation was about 👌

5. What is your favorite candy bar?

York

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

I went to an NBA game once 🏀

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?

"I have to go. I have to heat up my coffee." (and I never came back 😆)

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

mint chocolate chip ice cream 👌

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

coffee

10. Do you like your wallet?

i don't have a wallet (last one broke and i haven't replace it yet) so I keep my money like real women do, scattered around my purse 😆

11. What was the last thing you ate?

It's a Puerto Rican dish, called "frituras"..it's something similar to a fried dumpling stuffed with steak, yummy 👌

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

I wish...this damn quarantine has all clothing stores closed 😣

13. The last sporting event you watched?

I think it was an MLB game? 🤔 ⚾

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

Kettle corn is very good. But I also like lime, pepper and butter flavors.

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to?

my child

16. Ever go camping?

Yes, lots of times. I love it. 🏕

17. Do you take vitamins?

Usually? No. But with the COVID-19 situation, I take all i can get!!

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?

No, but I wish I would, I miss it 😔

19. Do you have a tan?

Ha! With this quarantine? Stop playing with my feelings....

20. Do you prefer chinese food or pizza?

This question is offensive and I refuse to answer it. (how can you make me chose?)

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?

Only at restaurants and fastfood places.

22. What color socks do you usually wear?

If I have to chose a color, it'll be black, but mostly multicolored with designs.

23. Ever drive above the speed limit?

Is there any other way to drive? 🤷🏼

24. What terrifies you?

cockroaches

25. Look to your left what do you see?

Church's Chicken.

26. What chore do you hate?

Just one? I hate all of them

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

Chris Hemsworth. And koalas.

28. What is your favorite soda?

Cream soda.

29. Do you go into a fast food place or just hit the drive through?

Drive through.

30. Who was the last person you talked to?

My child.

31. Favorite cut of beef?

I love the whole cow, I can't chose.

32. Last song you listened to?

#1 Crush. By Garbage.

33. Last book you read?

I started to read "The Eyes of the Dragon" by Stephen King, but got distracted with coronavirus.

34. Favorite day of the week?

Whichever I can get free from work.

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards?

Never tried. And you can't make me.

36. Do you like coffee?

I have coffee running through my veins.

37. Favorite pair of shoes?

My dirty converse.

38. At what time do you normally go to bed?

Around 12:00am.

39. At what time do you normally get up?

Around 6:00am, cuz society makes me.

40. What do you prefer - sunrises or sunsets?

Sunsets.

41. How many blankets are on your bed?

One very thin sheet. Remember? On the surface of the sun?

42. Describe your kitchen plates:

Plain and boring.

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic bevarage?

Cocktail: Mojitos.

Beer: Corona.

Wine: Sauvignon Blanc

44. Do you play cards?

Yes.

45. What color is your car?

Red.

46. Can you change a tire?

I can, but I won't.

47. What is your favorite province?

Like in my country? In the world?

48. Favorite job you ever had?

Retail at a Christmas shop.

49. How did you get your biggest scar?

When I was a little girl I was running around the school like a maniac (as usual) with the others, and I fell, and got my knee scratched pretty bad.

50. What did you do today that made someone happy?

Helped a customer in need.

I'll tag: @the-queen-of-things , @oh-nostalgiaa , @genericbrowngurl , @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls , @poealsobucky , @mur-raay , @you-cant-cry-in-here , @jokerjoaquinphoenix , @charlie-sisters , @bring-your-holy-water , @tearsofafallenangel , @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8 , @fallenstarsabyss , @heroesaredumb ,

#tagged #tagging game #tag game #tumblr friends #asks

11 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 7 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: We can’t promise that this posting rate will continue forever, but for now, please enjoy! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: The team scrambled to come up with ideas for the new Spring collection that would please their illustrious leader, and when they were out celebrating after the meeting, Pearl got a little too close for Violet’s comfort.

This Chapter: Violet makes a new friend, wakes up in a very compromising position, and deals with a massive hangover.

***

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Violet whispered to herself, reapplying her lipstick, making sure her lip liner was perfect even as her hand was shaking a little. Violet could hear her work phone, the familiar ringtone that meant Pearl was calling her.

She wanted to take it, wanted to accept the adventure Pearl was promising her, but Violet had hooked up with coworkers before, and that was a mistake she wasn’t eager to repeat.

Violet was drunk, and confused, this entire thing not at all what she had hoped and dreamed of for her and Pearl’s first kiss.

Besides the fact that they worked together, that Pearl was her friend, that she was one of the few human beings Violet actually genuinely liked, at the end of the day, Pearl was a player.

Everyone in the fashion world knew that.

There was not a lesbian or bisexual woman in the New York Fashion industry that didn’t have some kind of story about Pearl, Violet having listened to her fair share at parties, and she would never want to become one of those.

Their friendship was too important to her for that to happen. Stupid stupid stupid.

A gorgeous blonde girl stumbled out from the bathroom stall, humming to herself as she washed her hands. The blonde watched Violet apply her lipstick with rapt attention, then smiled, a thick Australian accent leaving her mouth.

“Wow…How do you do that? Your makeup looks like…sooo good.”

“Thank you?” Violet would normally be a little weirded out by this kind of attention from a stranger, but the girl was so beautiful and earnest that she only smiled back.

“I can’t wear red lipstick, but on you it’s...perrrfect,” she slurred.

“Everyone can wear red lipstick,” Violet stated.

“You think? Should I try it?” she asked, eyes lighting up gleefully.

“Umh…” Violet looked down at the lipstick in her hands. “Sure.”

But when the girl wobbled a little in her heels stepping forward, Violet had second thoughts--she was a little buzzed herself, but that girl looked far too drunk to do makeup on her own. It would likely end up all over her face if she tried.

“Know what. Let me help you,” Violet offered kindly.

“Oh wow, are you my fairy godmother?” she squealed, climbing up onto the counter.

Violet laughed at the other’s words, immediately feeling the kind of connection only two very drunk girls could.

“Maybe I am,” Violet giggled, as she began applying lipstick--not an easy task, given the blonde’s bubbly chatter, telling her all about how she normally only wore chapstick and mascara and wished she knew how to do winged eyeliner like Violet’s but could just never get the hang of it. But soon, Violet had done a satisfactory job, and leaned back to admire her work. If that girl was beautiful before, now she was absolutely stunning. “Um, whoever told you that you shouldn’t wear red lipstick should be killed.”

“Does it look good?!” the blonde asked excitedly, turning around to look in the mirror.

“You look gorgeous. Like, so pretty I can’t even deal with it,” Violet said nodding emphatically and realizing that she was maybe a little drunker than she previously thought. She certainly didn’t bond this much with strangers under normal circumstances. Of course, most strangers weren’t beautiful, charming blondes with adorable accents.

Shit, she really had a type when it came to girls.

“I love it! Thank you so much, fairy godmother!” she said, green eyes sparkling with joy. She turned back around and threw her arms around Violet’s neck.

Suddenly, the door burst open, startling them both.

“Courtney! There you are! You need to come back to the dance floor, bitch!” said a vaguely familiar voice. Violet turned around, trying to figure out where she knew the voice from.

“Adoooore! I’m getting my makeup done. Do you like it?” The blonde girl, now identified as Courtney, giggled, arms still around Violet, a huge smile on her face.

Adore? Realization suddenly dawned as Violet placed the face and voice.

Of course.

Adore was Bianca Del Rio’s little sister, and therefore someone Fame included in her close circle of friends. A musician of some kind and known party girl. And, if Violet was correct, she also knew Pearl somehow. It all made sense--what a small world.

Adore seemed to recognize Violet at the same time, big blue eyes widening with joy.

“Hey! It’s you! Violet, right?”

“Yeah, hi.” Violet smiled a bit shyly at her. She didn’t know Adore very well, but her closeness to Fame made Violet feel mildly self-conscious. Adore didn’t seem to have the same problem, throwing her arms around Violet as if they were best friends.

“Court, this is Violet. She works for Fame at Galactica.”

Courtney’s eyes bulged, and she clapped her hands together excitedly.

“She does?! Omigod how perfect! I just applied for a job as her assistant!” Courtney said.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me, bitch?” Adore demanded. “You know that Fame is practically like family.”

“Well, I applied for like 50 jobs this week; I just need anything that’ll let me stay. But I didn’t think I’d have any chance. I don’t have a lot of experience and I’m sure a million people applied. It’s Galactica .”

“So what?! You don’t need experience, you can do anything!” Adore turned to Violet, grasping her by the hand. “Violet, you need to help my girl get an interview. She’s amazing. She’s the most responsible person I know, and a really hard worker, and so smart.”

“Awww, bunny!” Courtney cooed, slinging an arm around Adore’s waist.

“Plus she really needs a job so that she can get a work visa.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be deported,” Courtney added solemnly.

“I know it’s kind of a weird problem for a white person to have, but there you go. And America is just soooo much better with her here.”

Adore buried her face into Courtney’s shoulder, hugging her tightly.

“Well, I’m looking over the résumés for the new assistant position. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll totally put yours at the top of the pile.” Violet found her drink on the counter and was just about to take a sip when Courtney jumped down, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“I swear I love you… Like I really honestly love you. I don’t remember your name just this second but you’re going in my gratitude journal, no, no, don’t laugh! And when I remember your name, I’m going to give it to my firstborn child!!” Courtney squealed, wrapping Violet in a neck-popping hug while hopping around in place.

“This is so beautiful,” Adore said. “I don’t know about you two hotties, but I’m ready to drink and dance some more, so the next round is on me! Let’s goooo!”

Violet let her new best friends drag her back out into the club and towards the bar, giggling the whole way.

***

“We gotta go, bunny,” Adore said, causing Courtney to whine.

“Nooo, I wanna dance some more,” she slurred, arms wrapped around Violet’s shoulders. “Me an’ Violet wanna dance.”

“I know, but Violet has to go home, too. Right?” Adore exchanged a look with Pearl, trying to extricate her friend from Violet, who swayed a bit in her heels, giggling and hiccuping. “Sorry, this one can’t hold her liquor for shit.”

Pearl laughed, putting her arms around Violet’s waist and pulling her gently from her new best friend.

“Seems that way,” she said.

“Say goodnight, Courtney,” Adore said.

“Goodnight, Courtney,” echoed the blonde sadly, looking over her shoulder with one final wave, then stumbling, nearly pulling Adore to the ground in the process. “Oops.”

Violet watched them, still giggling to herself, then allowed Pearl to guide her outside towards a row of taxis.

Pearl had never seen her hammered like this. Violet was a giggly, blushing, cuddly mess, and she had never been more adorable.

They were nearly inside the cab when Violet’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Pearl! Wait-” Violet grabbed for the door. “Wait wait wait wait.”

“What?” Pearl reached over her, grabbing her hand and furrowing her brow. “Are you okay?”

“Trixie!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pearl we left Trixie behind!”

Pearl had to bite her lip not to smile, since Violet seemed genuinely distressed. “Trixie left with Katya and Max over 2 hours ago,” Pearl explained patiently. “He’s probably all snuggled up in his jammies, fast asleep.”

“Oh.” Violet’s shoulders relaxed as she slumped onto the seat. “Okay. That’s… That’s good.” Violet yawned a little, covering her mouth with her hand. “I wish I was wearing pajamas.”

This time, Pearl did actually snort. Violet was the only person she knew who could be near black out drunk, but still insisted on calling it pajamas.

“Do you?” Pearl couldn’t help asking, buckling her in. “What kind of pajamas?”

Violet gave her a sly smile, eyes half closed. “I’m not telling you that…”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head. Even drunk off her ass, Violet still managed to be more a mystery than not.

***

Trixie yawned as he made his way to the bedroom. He had brushed his teeth, swaying in place and humming to himself while he had done it.

Pearl hadn’t come home with them, Trixie was pleasantly tipsy, and he couldn’t wait to spend the night on some private time with his girlfriend.

Trixie opened the door, to see Katya who was standing by the mirror, brushing her blonde hair. She was perfectly sober, their eyes meeting in the mirror, and Katya broke into a giant smile.

“Hey cutie.”

“Hi.” Trixie couldn’t help but blush as he crawled onto the bed, the temptation to shake his ass too great to resist, and the move earned him a loud laugh from the woman he loved.

Katya was the beginning and the end of his world, and all he ever needed. He could listen to her all day, her laughs and giggles, her hyena fits and even when she snorted, all filling him with joy.

Trixie was more than ready to burrow into the pillows, and wait for Katya to finish her hair so she could come defile him, when he felt something that was horribly, horribly wrong.

One of the decorative pillows on the bed, the blue one, was all flat.

“Katya?”

“Mmh?” Katya was braiding her hair, her long fingers running through it.

“Did you wash the pillows?”

“Yes, isn’t it nice?”

“Mmmh..” Trixie picked the pillow up, gently trying to fluff it, to get it back to how it had been before Katya had thrown it in the washer but it was definitely dead.

“Shit.” Trixie whispered. He felt sad, the pillow one of his preferred companions on many a long night whenever he took “special” time with himself.

“What’s with the long face, sugarbutt?” Katya crawled onto the bed too, and Trixie could see that she was wearing nothing beneath her silk robe, the look in her eyes telling him that she was more than ready to fuck.

“I don’t have a long face, a round one, maybe, but not long.”

“You’re perfect.” Katya smiled, her hands gliding over Trixie’s scalp and grabbing what little hair he had, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. “Now come on, you’re drunk and I want a piece of you before you pass out.”

Katya smirked, and caught him again, the two of them falling back on the bed.

Trixie tried to enjoy the kiss, but he couldn’t calm down, couldn’t let go of the fact that their washed pillows were filling him with something that almost felt like annoyance.

“Katya?”

“Mmh?” Katya had practically crawled in his lap, her legs on either sides of him, his hands on her hips.

“It was my special pillow.”

“What?” Katya stopped, her face the perfect picture of confusion. “Your special pillow?”

“You know,” Trixie closed his eyes. He was pretty sure that sober him would never say this, but drunk him had no such problems, “for when you’re gone.. And I, you know, miss you…”

“Wha-”

Trixie could feel himself blush, his cheeks burning.

“Wait. You mean. Oh, oh, ooooooooh. Really?”

Trixie wanted to die, his insides feeling like hot liquid, the shame painful, but also so delicious, his cock growing fully hard, and he knew Katya could feel it.

“Show me.”

“… Show you?”

Katya nodded, the woman quickly getting out of Trixie’s lap, sitting against the headboard, her hand gently going over Trixie’s face.

“Please me sweet boy, and I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Trixie closed his eyes, his heart hammering away as he pushed down his pajama pants, the pillow stuffed underneath him by Katya.

Trixie wanted nothing more than to serve, making Katya happy the most important thing in his life.

***

Violet blinked, her brain feeling like it could run out of her ear the first chance it got. “Ow…” Violet tried to turn over to go back to sleep, but her body felt like it was made of stone.

“There’s water and painkillers on the nightstand, but you need to get ready because you have work in a few hours.”

Horror slowly washed over Violet’s whole body, turning her blood to ice, as she realized who the voice belonged to and that the bed she was in was definitely not her own.

“Oh no, no no no no.” Violet looked around, ignoring the hammering pain in her head.

Pearl was lying next to her in nothing but a cotton bra and panties, a smirk on her face. Violet looked down, slowly realising that she was wearing one of Pearl’s t-shirts, and that was when it hit her.

“Did we, oh god- Why am I wearing” Violet could feel her throat close up, panic clawing under her skin. “What happened- Pearl, did we- Did we… Did we have sex?”

“Wow.” Pearl raised an eyebrow, “Is the idea of fucking me really that terrifying, ViVi?”

“I can’t remember anything after Adore bought that last round of shots...”

Violet felt like she was going to have a full blown panic attack trying to figure out what happened after they left the club.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Violet. Relax, please.” Pearl reached out, gently petting Violet’s back. The sensation of Pearl’s palm - warm through the cotton of her t-shirt - was tantalizing, but Violet couldn't enjoy it at all.

“Nothing happened last night, I promise.”

“And why would I believe that?” Violet could feel tears threaten to fall, shame welling up in her stomach. “I wake up, and I can’t remember, you’re not wearing any clothes, I’m not in my dress- I’m not even in my apartment and I- I-”

Violet had to fight not to cry, not because she was disgusted at the idea that she had maybe slept with Pearl, but because she couldn’t remember anything at all. It was scary not to have any idea what she had done, but it was terrifying to think that she had wrecked her chance of a relationship with Pearl, or even worse, that she had ruined their friendship.

“Violet, listen to me.” Pearl turned Violet’s head so she could look her in the eyes, her thumb gently gliding over her cheekbone. “Nothing happened, I promise.”

Violet bit her lip, looking into Pearl’s blue blue eyes.

“I brought you here to help sober you up. I tried to give you some coffee without waking Katya and Trixie, but you passed out before I had the chance.”

Violet felt her throat relax, her breath slowly returning to normal.

“I undressed you since no one should sleep in Alexander McQueen.” Pearl smirked. “Imaging your horror if you had creased your dress.”

Violet snorted. “I guess…”

“And Violet-” Pearl smiled, grabbing her pillow and putting it back under her own head. “If we had actually fucked, I promise you would remember.”

Violet had to laugh at that, shaking her head at Pearl’s cockiness.

“You should probably start getting ready. I know your whole look probably requires a lot of primping, and it’s almost 6:30.”

“What?!”

***

Violet felt like a group of tiny dwarves had taken up shop inside her head, even the sound of her own nails on her computer keyboard too much.

Violet had rushed to work that morning, none of her usual calm present as she had practically verbally abused a taxi driver when he took a wrong turn. She had felt so bad she had thrown an extra ten dollars in his face, but the day had just gone downhill.

Thankfully Fame had been kind to her that morning, in an unusually sweet mood, not even commenting on the fact that Violet wore sunglasses indoors, even accepting the first breakfast with no complaints of the coffee being a little cold.

Alaska had called after lunch, her normal high pitched ‘hiiiiie’ feeling like a red hot poker forcing its way through her brain.

***

Fame was reading an email when Pearl came into the office, wearing sunglasses with shades the size of plates. Fame smiled; Pearl looked as bad as she knew Violet felt, and oh how she loved to see her pets get what they deserved.

“You sent for me, Miss.”

“Close the door.”

Pearl smiled, quickly obeying Fame.

“You’ve been a bad girl. Seducing my staff to go drinking on a weekday, paralyzing my poor assistant.”

Pearl snorted, a cheek grin on her face.

“Did you know that Violet gave me her own coffee this morning,” Fame held up her cup, Violet’s name scrawled on the side, “without even noticing?”

“I’m sorry Miss, that wasn’t my intention.” Pearl smiled, the air crackling with sexual tension. Fame loved teasing Pearl, loved playing this game of pretend between them.

“Perhaps not, but the damage has been done,” Fame said, keeping her tone cool and even, looking directly into Pearl’s eyes.

“Let me make it up to you, Miss,” said Pearl. Her sleepy voice with just a hint of rasp from last night’s debauchery made the offer implicitly sexy.

“You really think it’s going to be that easy?” Fame asked. She drummed her nails on the arm of her chair as she leaned back.

“Maybe not, but I can have fun trying.” Pearl took a few steps forward and dropped to her knees.

“Hm.”

Fame looked down at her lovely face, reaching down to remove her sunglasses.

“Please, Miss?” Pearl placed a kiss against her knee, lifting the hem of her skirt slowly.

“Fine,” Fame said, voice resigned as if she was indulging Pearl and not the other way around. “But be quick.”

***

On Thursday morning, when Max stopped by Fame’s office to drop off a batch of photos with the new sample clothes, he noticed that Violet looked out of sorts.

To a stranger she probably looked perfectly poised, but Max could see it in the way her ponytail wasn’t completely tight, could see it in the way she kept sipping water.

So later that day, during a creative meeting which meant Fame was out of the office, he returned with coffees and a little bag of croissants, gently asking if she had time for a short break. She’d accepted the coffee gratefully, but hesitated about the pastry.

“They’re still warm, if that helps,” he said, and that seemed to seal the deal.

Violet reached into the back and pulled one out, sinking back into her chair with a sigh as Max settled on the sofa.

“It’s been a rather hectic week, hasn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” Violet smiled, shaking her head.

“Anything I can assist with?” Max offered.

“No, I just...I really need to find a candidate, any candidate for the assistant position that Fame will at least consider.” Violet sighed. “The last few didn’t exactly-”

“Go well?” Max guessed.

“That’s generous, and I have no idea where I went wrong.” Violet groaned. “Fame needs someone who can do well, who can support her in everything. Everyone so far has been more than qualified, one of them even worked as an event planner, and yet, she sent them all away without a second though.”

“That sounds like her.” Max smiled.

“If she won’t accept people who are organized and experienced…” Violet trailed off, eyes going to the resumes littering her desk, creases in them telling Max how many times she’d been through them. “I don’t know what to do.”

Max pondered her dilemma. Of course, considering their boss’s desire for perfection, it would make sense for Violet to bring in these competent professionals with years of experience. On paper, that made perfect sense.

But there was another side to Fame, one with which Violet was probably less familiar.

“Have you considered…” Max paused. He needed to be careful to phrase this correctly. “You know how she loves to cultivate talent. To discover people, so to speak. So while it’s important to bring in people who are smart and capable...perhaps consider someone a bit more...green?”

Violet tilted her head, brow furrowed. It seems that offering up fresh young faces simply hadn’t occurred to her.

“You never know,” Max said, “But she may very well appeal to someone eager and ready to learn. And, uh...aesthetically pleasing, shall we say?”

“I guess... “ Violet’s eyes drifted back to the resumes on her desk, realization dawning on her face as she pulled one from the pile. “It’ll be worth a shot. Thank you Max.”

“Don’t mention it,” Max said with a wry chuckle. “Really. Don’t mention it. HR would probably not appreciate the way I phrased that.”

“Probably not.” Violet laughed, and they clinked their paper cups together.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #pearlet #trixya #fame x pearl #violet chachki #pearl liaison #courtney act #adore delano #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #miss fame #max malanaphy #tw for brief moment of panic

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rpgmgames · 5 years

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May’s Featured Game: Cadeau

DEVELOPER(S): HALFWORLDstudios ENGINE: RPG Maker VX Ace GENRE: Horror, Fantasy, Puzzle WARNINGS: Blood, Mild Gore, Suicide Mentions, Death SUMMARY: Cadeau is an RPG Horror game about a lonely, yet stubborn, young woman named Charlotte-- who finds herself in a world unknown to man, wearing clothes that do not belong to her. Wonderful and tragic events are to follow suit, as all of her greatest wishes come true. However, as these things often go, her happiness does not come without consequence...

Play the beta here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! Macdev: Greetings and salutations. I'm Mac, writer, artist, and programmer for Cadeau, as well as the founder of Halfworld. I've loved Rpg games since I was about 10, and have been creating them since! Bruno: My name is Bruno and I'm the music composer. I got into game music approx 2 years ago and I've currently made music for a couple of games and other projects, and Cadeau was the first one of them. Aidan: I'm Aidan/kanteramcneil on Tumblr! I'm one of the voice actors, and I'm super excited to be able to follow Cadeau's progress! I've been in the RpgMaker community for a few years now and I adore being able to watch all the devs progress and grow Rindre: Hi I'm Rin! Currently, I'm on an indefinite hiatus, but Big Mac managed to catch me, chain me up to a chair, and make me say stuff about myself against my will. So... I make games, I guess. - Note from macdev: Erm, not true? These accusations are SLANDER and I will not stand for it. WariA: Hello! I’m WaraiA, one of the voice actors of Cadeau — A pleasure to meet you! I will be voicing the oh so mysterious ‘Your Admirer’, so please look forward to listening to my antics ☆〜（ゝ。∂） I am a Japanese/Chinese Australian born citizen, with a tendency to speak in an American accent. Any pronouns are fine for me My most notable role so far has been Harpae from Pocket Mirror, so some of you may be familiar with my voice already! Nothing much has changed — I enjoy cosplaying, role playing, drawing every once in a blue moon, Final Fantasy XIV, and most importantly, catboys (Nael, I’m coming for you, boy) As ‘Your Admirer’ is a rather elusive character, I cannot disclose much. But I do suggest always keeping one eye open throughout your journey

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Macdev: Cadeau is a game about a troubled young woman named Charlotte Émile-- who is a "tomboyish" and bold individual who has been unfortunately presented loneliness by a series of disastrous events. After giving up on companionship, she miraculously receives an affectionate letter from a mysterious person aliased as her "Admirer". This "Admirer" character beckons poor Charlotte to visit them at a mysterious well in the woods, and to come armed with nothing but a strange golden coin. From there, madness ensues. Our protagonist must learn of her past and the events that lead to her misfortune, all while becoming entangled in a family drama rooted in witchcraft, raging years before her unexpected arrival. It is a story about self-love, friendship, acceptance, magic, and all that corny-ness. Sounds fun, right? My initial inspiration was The Witches House. The game was originally meant to be simple, and maybe an hour or 45 minutes long. A simple story, and a straightforward 2-ending path.... How have we managed to get here from that?

How long did you work on your project? *Macdev: Two years, I believe! Its anniversary is April 8th. In the beginning, it was very off and on-- because I was having a difficult time with school and-- as I mention-- organization. So not a whole lot of progress was made then. I'm proud to say I've been chugging quite a bit faster than my previous pace!

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Macdev: My inspiration would probably lie in Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts, and Alice returns to madness. As for RPG games? The Witch's House, Havenfell, and Pocket Mirror. As well as many other beautiful artists and creators in the video game community. Overall, my biggest inspiration for this game has got to be the stop-motion movie: Coraline. I even reference the movie once or twice in Cadeau. The tone of Coraline, and the whimsical yet eerie people and creatures within it give me inspiration for this game. It was very much a favorite of mine when I was younger, and that still applies today!

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Macdev: The biggest problem I've run into has been a lack of structure. In the beginning, I hadn't even written out the story halfway. I was just pulling ideas from thin air, going back and forth, and deleting entire concepts-- only to bring them back and re-arrange them as I went. Characters weren't fully dished out; the game didn't even have an ending. This state of creating is fine, but not when you have other people expecting things from you. Thankfully, things are sailing much MUCH smoother than before.

Did any aspects of your project change over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Macdev: It's absolutely taken a turn from what it was originally! As I say, it was meant to be an extremely short game in the beginning, and now obviously that’s not the case. The goal for Cadeau now is: around 2-3 hours long in playtime, and full of many diverse character types! As well as a storyline that extends far more than face value. Which is in high contrast to the basic, short, immemorable experience that it was going to be.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Macdev: I do have a wonderful, beautiful, talented team working with me on Cadeau. - A composer! (Bruno Buglisi), - As well as voice actors! (WariA as Allete, Aiden/kanteramcneil as The Botanist, and Rindre (who I have definitely not kidnapped...) as The Maiden) I met everyone in the team through volunteer posts-- and I had never done that before-- but it worked very surprisingly well! We worked very quickly together, and we had a very mutual understanding of what each other wanted. It feels good to know I have such talented people helping this game come to fruition. I owe a whole lot to them for helping the game become what it is now.

What was the best part of developing the game? Macdev: Being able to make the world in your head interactable, for sure. Since I was 8, maybe even younger, I have loved writing stories and making art. Webcomics were my main thing as a kid, so story-telling is something I’ve always loved. So, the fact that I can turn my ideas into something someone can experience and interact with is a wonderful feeling. There's nothing more fulfilling, honestly!

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Macdev: Very often, actually! I try not to ride too close to the material I see in other games, but I do gain lots of inspiration from my fellow creators! One thing I am laser-focused on, though, is making Cadeau quite unique content-wise. I want it to have very interesting, uncommon puzzles and mechanics that you may not expect from this type of game-- or one of this engine. So far, I think I've achieved this-- so look out for that!

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Macdev: My favorite character has got to be The Botanist. At the beginning of the game he has no dialogue, yet still presents such a strong personality. They are kind, thoughtful, and absolutely adorable. Look at that foofy hair! I'm a sucker for it. Their character arc is something I'm excited for. It's been a blast writing it so far-- and I won’t spoil anything-- but you guys will love him. I'm sure of it. Now if we're talking character design, Naël has got to be my favorite. He recently received a “tune-up,” as I would like to call it, and I think everything works together very cohesively in his design now. It's probably one of my favorites out of all of them, at this point.

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Macdev: Thankfully, things worked out perfectly-- and the universe blessed me with a wonderful team in the end-- but it was very stressful once I realized I had asked for help way too early. I essentially made a single map, and a little character sheet-- then asked for a whole team to help me out. As I said, it luckily worked out in the end. Now we have so many amazing people helping us-- but we also lost a few in the madness-- and that's a mistake on my part, 100%. If you don't know what you want, it's hard to ask for help. It will lead to confusion, lots of back and forth, frustration, etc... Just wait until your way further in development. Trust me. I know it’s easy to jump the gun and shoot for the stars, but sometimes it won’t work out as well as it has for the Cadeau team!

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Macdev: I won't say as of now! The idea of a sequel/prequel has floated around, but if it does come to fruition, it won't be until way after the release of Cadeau. We'll just have to see. (This isn’t to say I’m not hopeful!)

With your current project, what do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Macdev: I have so many amazing project ideas lined up for after the release of Cadeau. I won’t spill too much, so they'll be more of a surprise-- but they range from classic, adventure-themed true RPG's-- to 3D teenage-thrillers. I'm honestly stoked, there's so much in store for Halfworld.

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Macdev: I think my biggest fear is letting people down. Also, I worry about losing interest or having people form the idea that the game is never going to be completed. It’s just going to take some time, is all, and that’s okay!

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Macdev: I already mentioned above not to jump the gun and ask for help too early, so some more advice I'll give: is to keep all your material, all your ideas, and all your concepts in one concise place. I would say do it digitally from the get-go, but if you would prefer to write it down physically that's fine! Just make sure it's only one or 2 notebooks, and not 13. The information for Cadeau is spread throughout my hideous mound of notebooks, as I get up during ungodly hours of the night to scrawl a sudden idea down. So, I'm currently in the process of moving them to one digital spot-- and while it's generally easy-- I would have been able to avoid it if I had just put everything in one spot in the beginning. Oh, and back up your progress regularly! I have separate backups of Cadeau from months in 2 different years, and in 4 different places. So, I take backups very seriously—and so should you!

Question from last month's featured dev @atlasatrium: What's your favorite RPG Maker game and why? *Aidan: I love End roll, Ib, OFF, Prom Dreams, From Next Door, and Aria's Story! Bruno: Mm, definitely Long Gone Days (though it’s not being made on rpgmaker now) Midnight Train, Heartbeat and Glitched! WariA: I don't really have any :0 the devs I've worked with so far have all been really sweet (´꒳`);; Macdev: This is a tough question! I have a lot of favorites. Probably Stray Cat Crossing overall, but I also love Home and Starboy. Starboy brings a lot of memories, and Stray Cat Crossing was what inspired me to start making games! Oh, and Home is just very cute.

We mods would like to thank HALFWORLDstudios for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Cadeau if you haven’t already! See you next month!

- Mods Gold & Platinum

#rpgmaker #rpgmaker vx ace #indie games #Pixel Games #pixel horror #cadeau #project cadeau #projectcadeau #gotm #game of the month #gotm may #gotm 2019 #2019 #game of the month 2019

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chrysaliseuro2019 · 5 years

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Kyparissi Village

Another glorious morning and another leisurely start. We are gradually slipping into the Greek way of life though in a way it's not too hard for us. They like to eat late (so do we) probably because of siestas (though we haven't gone for them yet apart from snoozes on the beach) and, for us at least, as a consequence, a slow start to the day is not a prob. Eating late for the Greeks means 9.30 - 10.00 start time sometimes later. At least in the restaurants we have been visiting. There is none of this Australian - the kitchen closes at 9.30 stuff even in the smallest towns. Suits us. Today we drive to Monemvasia from Porto Kagio this is a fair stint of 130km which on the mountain switchback roads will take us around 3 hours. Scenery picturesque and we headed off around 10.30 arriving in Monemvasia around 1.30. The first thing you see as you approach it is a massive Gibraltar like rock with a causeway connecting it to the mainland. Monemvasia was part of the mainland until 375AD when an earthquake cut it off. It's essentially a very pretty medieval village perched on a rock which is hundreds of metres high. You approach across the causeway which leads up via a fairly steep road to the front gate and no cars past that and boy were we lucky. We got a parking spot probably 150 metres from the gate. The road was possibly a kilometre and a half and people were walking up that distance at least, with no shade. Temperature the usual 35 or so. The town is very engaging with narrow alleyways, medieval houses, churches and fortifications and lots of exposed stone. We had a little explore and then found a great taverna for lunch with view out to sea. A rest was needed after a long drive. Eggplant Imam was our shared dish. Obviously the Ottoman influence still prevails in some dishes and this was just a shared side dish with crusty bread. Yum. I am going to make this at home. Post lunch we continued to explore the streets for a little while. Churches were not open so it was really about the exteriors. We didn't have the energy in the heat to trek up to the castle at the top especially with cautionary tales in Lonely Planet about the steepness of steps. The key decision was would we stay there for the night or press on. Small hotels and rooms for rent were dotted all over the place in town. Given that you could not proceed past the front gate in the car, hauling bags to some of the spots away from the gate would be difficult as it was literally up and down steps and wheeling along rugged stone surfaces. We decided the sea was beckoning and in particular Kyparissi Village which again Liz's contact Teresa had recommended. Some discuss it as the prettiest village in Greece. It was not a hard decision though we definitely missed aspects of Monemvasia which was regrettable but you just can't tick all the boxes. Sometimes there are compromises. We arrived at Kyparissi village after the usual winding journey. About an hour and a half. The small town seemed a little unprepossessing but we drove through and still weren't sure. Then we backtracked a little and found a small cove with a couple of bars and a few houses clustered around it. Liz went into the cafe to ask if they provided accommodation and immediately the very friendly and engaging Nikolas made himself known and said his mum and dad had rooms. It was a no brainer to take one as we started to think this place looks good and also at a very reasonable price. No balcony, those rooms had gone but several large windows looking out across the bay. We immediately went for a swim. Best way to cool down. The little beach was 10 metres away from the pension. Water, fantastic temperature and clear as can be. Back for showers and then we headed to the local bar/cafe to grab a front row seat looking out at the sea. Even better Liz could get a vodka and tonic. A pleasant 45 mins or so and we headed for dinner. A couple of local restaurants 200 metres or so away and we opted for the one with the most people. By the sea, fish has to be good so we opted for Dorada after Liz had gone out the back to inspect what was on offer. This is pretty customary here with the fish kept in drawers on ice and you can pick which one(s) you want. Usually they will provide some guidance though Liz goes through her - are the eyes clear and what does the fish smell like routine. I think she does that to me after I've had a big night out. I usually fail. In fairness only the smell test. We sat there amid the typical hubbub of a local Greek taverna enjoying the ambience and the food. We also discussed that Kyparissi was looking promising and that we should consider staying another day (our second last night that would be before heading to the islands). A lay day without dashing anywhere seemed a great prospect. Especially in this delightful place. Just had to sleep on it and check room availability. Next morning we checked with Nikolas and the room was still available, we were keen and so a second night in Kyparissi. We headed for breakfast at the same restaurant that we had had dinner at the night before. Quite a user friendly breakfast menu for Aussies and poms. I tucked into the eggs, bacon and grilled tomatoes and Liz bacon and grilled toms. They came with some sliced fried potatoes. Too much really but we did our best. The restaurant is owned by a Greek Canadian guy who came back to Greece essentially to run it. No spring chicken either but very jovial. Waddled back to pension with the sun beating down. It was around 11.30. We immediately bumped into Nikolas' mum who offered us a "real Greek coffee". This was very kind though since I don't drink coffee, apart from the odd decaf, I declined much to her disbelief, particularly when I said it might keep me awake - given it was around midday. She offered me what I thought was a fruit drink which I accepted. Liz graciously if a little reluctantly accepted the coffee with a degree of foreboding. Usually you can stand your spoon up in these - half mud/half coffee. It fitted the mold and Liz waded her way through the coffee half leaving the mud section at the bottom. The fruit drink turned out to be candied fruits. Liz got cumquat and mine was orange with Earl Grey tea flavour. Both very rich and syrupy. We were grateful as they tasted nice though this fixed us up (well certainly me) coming so soon after the eggs,bacon and potatoes. One thing Nikolas had mentioned about the beach was that they deliberately did not allow beach chairs/lounges on there to discourage the usual tourist scenario. This worked in one sense as it was certainly not crowded however we wouldn't have minded an umbrella and a couple of lounges though perhaps it was even too hot for us. The next best thing and as it turned out probably the best thing was to sit in some chairs under a tree in front of the pension. We did this the whole day reading, blogging, relaxing, interrupted only by the occasional swim to cool off. Water was entered via a ladder from a little jetty in front of the pension and as ever it was crystal clear. Nikolas' dad came out and gave us a beer and shandy to sort of re-hydrate otherwise we had the place virtually to ourselves. We did meet a fellow Melbournian, John, who was of Greek origin from Kyparissi and was spending 3 months there before returning to Melbourne. He was friendly, lived in Coburg and we had a brief natter about what we were respectively doing on hols. Of course living where he does he knew N. Fitzroy pretty well including our street. Classic Aussie accent too it was great to hear. We had a glorious day. Nowhere to get to or visit, just relaxing time with the setting being a background of hills to set off the sea. I went for a short walk round to the next bay where there was a little church and a couple of impressive motor boats moored. Around 6.30 we went up showered and headed out for pre dinner drinks at the same place as the previous night. We met John's wife Mary and daughter Melina as they headed home (their place is two doors up from our pension). They were here for a shorter period than John as Melina is in year 11 and has to get back to school. Another good catch up with local stories swopped of both Melbourne and Greece. Mary suggested another place for dinner which is apparently the No1 in town. It was around the bay about 2/3 kms so a car job. Interestingly it was close to a hotel that friend Teresa had recommended but which was a bit out of our league. We were keen to see it. Dinner turned out to be very nice. Our choice was stuffed peppers, fried calamari and Greek salad so not really cordon bleu but it was tasty. Rose wine unfortunately no better than elsewhere, though white passable. As we were leaving around 10.00 o'clock, John, Mary and Melina were just arriving and knew everyone pretty well. We headed home and got back in 5 mins. As we drove past our taverna of the previous night it was absolutely chokkers with people all having their usual late dinner. A great day and we were pretty keen on Kyparissi.

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wondroussimmer-blog · 6 years

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GET TO KNOW ME-

Basically, no one actually tagged me in this, but I thought i’d give it a go anyway seeing as this is a new blog and you guys can get to now me a bit, so I tag anyone who sees this and also wants to have a go...

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1. What is your full name? I’m not putting my last name on here, but my first name is Maja (Miya) 2. What is your nickname? I don’t really have one 3. Birthday? January 1st 4. What is your favourite book series? I don’t really read book series’ 5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? Not 100% sure, I don’t believe in the sort of ghosts you see in films, but I think I believe our loved ones stay with us in some way. As for aliens, idk, we can’t be the only life but idk. 6. Who is your favourite author? I find the fault in our stars quite overrated, but i’d say John Green because some of his others are my favourites! 7. What is your favourite radio station? BBC Radio 1 8. What is your favourite flavour of anything? this is such a weird question, how can you have a favourite flavour for everything? but if it’s sweet, definitely strawberry! 9. What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful? Again, weird question, but i use so many words for this, my most used are probably lovely and amazing 10. What is your current favourite song? this changes alll the time, but right this minute it’s probably sunflower by post malone and swae lee 11. What is your favourite word? is this a thing? 12. What was the last song you listened to? vacation by hippo campus 13. What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch? big mouth, orphan black, queer eye, dexter 14. What is your favourite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? the breakfast club or mean girls probably 15. Do you play video games? only the sims 16. What is your biggest fear? probably the death of people close to me, and in the future not being able to have children 17. What is your best quality, in your opinion? probably that i’m a friendly person 18. What is your worst quality, in your opinion? i’m v insecure 19. Do you like cats or dogs better? DOGS... always dogs! 20. What is your favourite season? autumn/winter 21. Are you in a relationship? yes 22. What is something you miss from your childhood? having way more friends and barely any responsibilities 23. Who is your best friend? my boyfriend 24. What is your eye colour? blue 25. What is your hair colour? brown 26. Who is someone you love? my boyfriend and family 27. Who is someone you trust? my boyfriend and closest family 28. Who is someone you think about often? okay wow, so much variety in these answers but the same as the previous two answers 29. Are you currently excited about/for something? christmas and my birthday 30. What is your biggest obsession? probably sims 31. What was your favourite TV show as a child? Probably Tracy beaker or that’s so raven 32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone? my boyfriend 33. Are you superstitious? only slightly 34. Do you have any unusual phobias? cracking knuckles, moths (but only indoors), realistic looking mannequins and gas masks... so not much 35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? behind, every single time 36. What is your favourite hobby? playing sims, graphic designing, video editing 37. What was the last book you read? The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat by Oliver Sacks 38. What was the last movie you watched? Muppet’s Christmas Carol 39. What musical instruments do you play, if any? I play a bit of guitar and can play the mr bean theme song on piano if that counts 40. What is your favourite animal? dogs 41. What are your top 5 favourite Tumblr blogs that you follow? I definitely have more than 5 42. What superpower do you wish you had? be able to teleport and go invisible 43. When and where do you feel most at peace? probably at home with my boyfriend 44. What makes you smile? sorry if this is becoming a boring answer... but my boyfriend! also my dog :) 45. What sports do you play, if any? I don’t at the moment, but I have done tennis, dance (ballet, tap and modern), swimming, karate, speed skating and netball 46. What is your favourite drink? water... how boring ik 47. When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody? Last month, I made my boyfriend a scrap book as one of my boyfriend’s presents for our anniversary and wrote some letters as part of it 48. Are you afraid of heights? not if it’s a secure height 49. What is your biggest pet peeve? I have wayyy too many and so many grammatical ones, I absolutely hate when people incorrectly use was and were, so if someone said ‘we was going’, I think it’s quite an essex thing but I hateeee it, I can’t stand bad grammar, but also slow walkers, people who walk through the door without looking behind them to hold the door open for people behind, other drivers not indicating, people that have to be louder than everyone else, people that chew with their mouths open... basically I have a lot and this list could go on and on and on 50. Have you ever been to a concert? I’ve seen all time low, the 1975, imagine dragons, sunset sons, ed sheeran and paramore in concert so far and i’m seeing panic! at the disco in march which i’m MEGA excited about!!! 51. Are you vegan/vegetarian? vegetarian 52. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? This would change all the time, it went from radio dj, to dancer, to teacher when I was really young, then architect when I was a teenager, and now it’s clinical psychologist which i’m slowly working towards 53. What fictional world would you like to live in? I’ve not got a clue 54. What is something you worry about? EVERYTHING! I get a lot of social anxiety, so basically whenever i’m out of the house i’m worrying about absolutely everything and it’s the worst and gets me super down, so yeah, love that 55. Are you scared of the dark? okay so I don’t like leaving the dark, i’m fine being in the dark but I hate when i’m home alone and have to turn the lights off in the living room, kitchen and hall to go to bed... if that makes sense 56. Do you like to sing? i’m someone that, at home, is constantly singing, and when it’s only my boyfriend around, if one of us says a sentence that can in some way relate to a song, i’ll immediately sing it, but I suck so I won’t ever sing in public 57. Have you ever skipped school? in school I faked being ill a few times to get off of school, but in uni i’ve skipped way too many lectures over the past 3 years 58. What is your favourite place on the planet? I absolutely adore Spain, but also Belgrade (i’m half Serbian) 59. Where would you like to live? If not my current home town, i’d love to one day live somewhere like Norway or Sweden 60. Do you have any pets? yep, i’ve got a french bulldog 61. Are you more of an early bird or a night owl? I wake up pretty early, but I hate to start the day early 62. Do you like sunrises or sunsets better? sunsets. 63. Do you know how to drive? Yep 64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? the sound of headphones but I normally use earbuds 65. Have you ever had braces? nope, thank god 66. What is your favourite genre of music? this really ranges from charts, to indie rock, to ‘former emo kid’, to early 2000s r&b, to musical theatre 67. Who is your hero? probably my boyfriend 68. Do you read comic books? no 69. What makes you the most angry? as we’ve already gathered, I have a lot of pet peeves, so a lot! 70. Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book?a real book! 71. What is your favourite subject in school? I currently study psychology which has been my favourite subject since A levels, but during GCSEs I enjoyed maths 72. Do you have any siblings? 1 younger brother 73. What was the last thing you bought? some christmas presents for my boyfriend’s cousins 74. How tall are you? 5ft4 75. Can you cook? yes 76. What are three things that you love? spending time with people I love, travelling, collecting photos 77. What are three things that you hate? busy places, cheats, confrontation 78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends? I actually barely have any so this is kind of hard to answer 79. What is your sexual orientation? straight 80. Where do you currently live? England 81. Who was the last person you texted? my mum 82. When was the last time you cried? I’m not actually sure, which is funny because I cry all the time and super easily 83. Who is your favourite YouTuber? I have so many: in terms of sims: lilsimsie, urbansims, sophsims, simkim, plumbella, in terms of lifestyle: louise pentland, in terms of fashion and beauty: samantha maria, tati westbrook, busybee carys, patricia bright, antonio garza, and others: shane dawson, sarah baska, kendall rae, jaackmaate, and loads more! basically, if i’m not on tumblr, i’m on youtube, if i’m not on youtube i’m playing sims, and if i’m not on sims i’m on tumblr... 84. Do you like to take selfies? rarely 85. What is your favourite app? any social media 86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? fab 87. What is your favourite foreign accent? Australian and Scottish 88. What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit? I have so many but I won’t bore you with another long list, so just a few: Sweden, South Africa, Iceland and Canada 89. What is your favourite number? 1 90. Can you juggle? no 91. Are you religious? I was baptised but don’t really consider myself religious 92. Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting? both as interesting as the other 93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? not really 94. Are you allergic to anything? no 95. Can you curl your tongue? yep, one of my weird ‘party tricks’ is I can actually curl it 180 degrees 96. Can you wiggle your ears? no 97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? not as often as I should 98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach? probably the forest 99. What is your favourite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you?my dad probably gives the best life advice but there’s too much to put here 100. Are you a good liar? It depends 101. What is your Hogwarts House? Hufflepuff 102. Do you talk to yourself? All the time 103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? I N T R O V E R T, i’m so introverted to the point I hate it but seriously struggle to change it 104. Do you keep a journal/diary? no but I have in the past 105. Do you believe in second chances? it depends 106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do? Hand it in 107. Do you believe that people are capable of change? It depends 108. Are you ticklish? VERY 109. Have you ever been on a plane? manyyyy times 110. Do you have any piercings? nope, I have but not anymore 111. What fictional character do you wish was real? no idea 112. Do you have any tattoos? nope 113. What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far? I’m really not sure 114. Do you believe in karma? to an extent, but at the same time bad things seem to happen to good people, sooooo 115. Do you wear glasses or contacts? neither 116. Do you want children? yes 117. Who is the smartest person you know? my cousin 118. What is your most embarrassing memory? omg my whole life is filled with embarrassing memories that I seem to always remember at the most inconvenient times or when i’m about to go to sleep that just haunt me out of nowhere...fun 119. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? yes 120. What colour are most of you clothes? black or white 121. Do you like adventures? yep 122. Have you ever been on TV? no 123. How old are you? 20 - nearly 21 124. What is your favourite quote? not really sure. 125. Do you prefer sweet or savoury foods? sweet

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babygreenlizard · 3 years

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For the Send Me A Letter To My Ask Box. X- ex you still liked after it was ended? Q- question always asked? W- worst fear?

Thank you, Anon! This one is long so I've hidden it below. Fyi; tw abuse, tw age gap relationship, tw stalking, just so yall have fair a warning, tw suicide

Letter/Question List Here, if anyone wants, both Public and Private are open!

X- My latest one; it wasn't your typical relationship like we loved each other, healthy and constant intimacy, we clicked, we were puzzle pieces, we're best friends... and that's it, it wasn't an official relationship, he had a girlfriend -she knew of me and approved, I made sure. She couldn't give him the more intimate stuff he wanted/needed, both physical or emotional.

Told you it wasn't typical. But eventually, his behaviour turned into my previous ex, who still stalks me to this day. He has a drinking problem, his girlfriend wasn't emotionally open enough for him, focused more on herself, to the point she ignored him unless it was her plan and whatnot. He didn't like his job, hated it and the people there, working the graveyard shift and being the only one who knows what they're doing and how to do it, kinda thing.

Any relationship has 3 pillars, Trust, Communication, and Respect. You cannot have one or two without the other/s, you can't, and with my empathy, I was there for him, giving advice.

But he'd take the advice but never do it, and it got to the point where he became belittling, and looking down on me cause I'm young (20s) compared to him (40s). My stalker ex was the same way though we were the same age, she was also manipulative and abusive. He was becoming that, and he knew what that ex was like, he's been manipulated and abused by her too so I thought he'd see it and stop before it got too far but he didn't. I had to call it off, there was no healthy communication and the respect towards me crumbled.

I still think back on him and what we had, I tend to post about it a lot on this blog, the what-ifs, and maybe I should have gone back for the 3rd time.

Q- 'Where are you from?' or 'Why do you talk like that?', I was born where the webbing beneath my tongue wasn't long enough to properly talk (my own parents couldn't understand me, it was bad), I had it fixed and then went to Speech Therapy.

Keep in mind that I was being bullied for this.

So after 3 years, the therapist said she couldn't help me anymore... Yes, great, tell a fuckin 3rd grader that what gets her bullied isn't fixable -not like that'll leave me traumatic enough to willingly go mute for the next 10+ years.

So, my accent is different, I stutter, and I can't pronounce R, some say my voice comes off British or Australian - I'm from Midwest U.S.A, born and raised, quite a difference. People mix up my R's with L's -which is common in some Asian Languages.

W- Disappointment, rather that'd be being disappointed or disappointing others. I hate getting my hopes up, I hate failing/meeting someone's standards.

It's why I'm reluctant to talk and befriend people. I'm gonna get attached and then contemplate suicide when they leave me or get mad at me.

I don't make choices or ask for anything outside of bare necessities cause I know I'm just gonna be rejected.

No one has ever been physically violent with me, my dad spanked me once and slapped my hand once and that's been it, but all the bullying and lack of proper father figure (his priorities was work and drinking). But even if someone is remotely annoyed, either by someone else or an object/task, I get a fight or flight anxiety, the fear of having it turn towards me terrifying.

So yeah, I'm fucked up, glad I can make you sad lol. (That was sarcasm, please don't be sad cause I have issues.)

Letter/Question List Here, if anyone wants, both Public and Private are open!

#lizard🐸ask

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listoriented · 7 years

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Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel

bAUderlands: straya

Where/When/Why: Borderlands: the Pre-Sequel is the first of the series that I didn’t run through with friends at launch. Instead, I got it during a steam sale in July last year for US$16.50 as part of a finish-your-Borderlands-collection package/bundle, with an eye to playing it when I got to it. Apparently I bought Rocket League at the same time? Momentous.

What/Who: It’s in the title, hey - a Borderlands game set between Borderlands 1 and 2. I’m struggling to think of other game and movie franchises that have done this, which perhaps why there isn’t a better descriptive term for it. The newish Baldur’s Gate expansion maybe? Rogue One? Anyway, instead of being set on Pandora - the fictional frontier planet where the previous two games were set - Pre-Sequel is set on Pandora’s moon, Elpis.

Elpis is a noticeably Australian place; it’s inhabited by Australian NPCs and full of parodies of Australian animals and stories (the main characters are all still American though - don’t worry). This is probably because the game was made by the 2k Australia branch [official site], based in Canberra, and so apparently it just kind of happened that way. The Pre-Sequel came out in October 2014. Sadly, 2k Australia shut their doors in 2015, which means there’s no AAA games development happening here for the time being.

Time Spent: 23 hours.

Completed: Yep, finally - we managed one. 19 of 63 achievements ticked. Oh that’s not a lot, hey. Oh well.

Notes: We had a pretty good time. That should probably be the main takeaway. The day after we finished it, Lauren said that she missed playing it. The mindless shooting, looting and questing loop of Borderlands 2 is well repped again here. The flow of it is quietly addictive.

We found the going a bit tough for a while, though, there at the beginning. We spent a lot of time hunting for mission waypoints through the larger moonscape areas of the game, which are not intuitive to travel around in vehicles (lots of dead ends, crevices, mountains, barriers), and awful to travel around on foot (too many things that want to kill you and/or distract you). A few times we went to bed mad at each other after having our patience stretched thin (**n.b. it should be added that while we did often end up playing this in the last hour or two before bed over the past few weeks, this game, like the other Borderlands games, is not something that actually benefits from being played while tired, despite this seeming like the natural state to play it in). One particular semi-optional mission for urchin NPC Pickle nearly drove us to the brink with its arduous navigational requirements.

The quaint fugue that Borderlands draws you into can be a hindrance too: if you don’t pay attention you can be tricked into fighting scores of creeps that could easily be avoided, and which don’t offer much in the way of endorphin release or in-game reward. The next time you come past they’ll all have respawned anyway, making the intervening grind feel particularly pernicious. Things improved immensely once we had more fast travel unlocked, and as we got better at paying attention to who we were meant to be fighting.

Pre-Sequel also has a couple of particular gameplay gimmicks. At first we were like “???”, but we came around to them. The game is set, as mentioned, on Pandora’s moon, Elpis, which being a moon has low gravity. As such, you can jump higher and further. Because the moon surface lacks breathable atmosphere, you carry oxygen tanks, referred to forever as “Oz kits” because Australia lololololol. These deplete when you’re out in the open (which you are for maybe half the game), causing you to lose health, but we found after the first half hour it’s something you only have to be slightly mindful of, so far as annoying gameplay factors go. More importantly, you can use these “Oz kits” to boost mid-air to reach far-off platforms. It’s pretty good! Any excuse to be able to jump a long way is an acceptable one: thanks, videogames.

The Australiana accents/jokes/parodies that pervade the game are, like, pretty cool...I think? I enjoyed the ironic Australia-for-market shtick tempered by its necessarily cringeworthy over-the-topness. Cliches and stereotypes can be funny too, sometimes. I’m also aware how rare representations of anything Australian are in games, good or bad, particularly home-grown ones; a feeling which is enhanced by knowing this was made by a studio arm that no longer exists. O’, state of thy industry. It’s not that I’m at all patriotic, and the construction of this nation and its cultural identity is as problematic as any other post-colonial state, and there are issues which this game, with its frontier-Western representations of “Australianness”, attempts to avoid altogether, leaving the giant wombat very much in the room. On the other hand is the essence of the game and its uncritical light entertainment sheen, a series of good-enough jokes that beg not to be looked at directly in the eye, the fact that this is what it is, the last of its kind, no more big-budget gaming in Australia or about Australia (no Forza Horizon 3 I’m not talking to you), no Australia at all; and that’s upsetting too. Lauren and I both particularly enjoyed the foul-mouthed shotgun, Boganella, who somehow never stopped making us laugh, and who I kept equipped all the way to the end. I certainly didn’t expect to get that much mileage out of it.

Lauren played as Athena the gladiator, while I played as Nisha the lawbringer. Neither of us particularly liked the special abilities of our characters. I found the auto-aim of Nisha’s “Showdown” a bit glitchy, with it sometimes locking on outside the enemy’s hitbox. We made do anyway without relying on them too much. Neither of us had played the DLC the Athena appears in, and I hadn’t remembered Nisha from Borderlands 2, so while playing we were unaware of these character’s other roles in the series.

One thing I did find surprising was how ‘epic’ the Pre-Sequel became in the final act. It almost seemed like it was speaking out of turn, I mean…it’s called “The Pre-Sequel”. That’s a title that screams incidental and unimportant if there ever was one. “This game is just setting the scene for the more important game that was worthy of a real number in its title”, is what it suggests. And for the most part as you play it, it feels that way too. You’re playing on the moon, for instance (and everyone knows moons rate lower than planets on the astronomical bodies ladder). And you’re helping the bad guy! Surely, none of what you do here should be as big, important or ‘epic’ as in the numbered Borderlands titles.

But then, as you approach the finish line, you find yourself fighting multiple boss battles (“surely this is it” I said, erroneously, each time), delving into a massive cavernous space with funky, brilliant colours, into a galaxy-esque background, fighting the forerunner guardians, while the stakes seem to go up and up. The ending is basically prophesy-esque, all bigger picture feels. It’s an odd match.

This is mirrored by the length of the game. We played for 23 hours, which was longer than my playthrough of Borderlands 2. Again, I find this surprising, not least because it also feels smaller at first, with the player limited to the same few compact (if difficult to navigate) areas for quite a while. I’d initially figured it for a 15 hour romp, maybe. This isn’t a complaint necessarily - the game was enjoyable enough for the most part to justify the time spent in it - it just seems structurally unsound to me that a “pre-sequel” should be as big or bigger than the game it’s foregrounding.

As for the story itself and how it goes about setting up the Borderlands 2 plot, it seems... well I guess it seems cohesive enough, not having recalled many details about Borderlands 1 & 2. You’re basically helping Jack, arch-villain of Borderlands 2, but he’s not evil yet - maybe. He just wants to stop the moon being destroyed by a group called The Lost Legion, while perhaps finding a vault and turning a profit for Hyperion in the process. You watch him do his Anakin Skywalker -> Darth Vader transformation as the game progresses, but because the protagonist vault hunters themselves are morally suspect, they/you don’t seem to mind too much. It's an unusual situation, to be playing the bad-guy, and it’s handled pretty effectively by the writers, if you take this game in a vacuum. That being said, it's also kind of...contradictory, if we do consider background events of Borderlands 2, where Jack’s evilness is established as being a more endemic, long-term thing. Whether the whole coheres depends on what you think/who you listen to, but I've enjoyed reading some forum-posted opinions on the matter anyway.

And so: This brings us to the end of our Borderlands sojourn. We finally finished one - hooray! Promises well kept. Paradoxically, finishing the Pre-Sequel took less time than it took to pass on Borderlands 2. All up, to sift, avoid and play through these three games has taken nearly the entire winter, which is...sub-optimal. My wish is to be done with the B’s by the end of the year. The letter grows stale; I yearn for a fresh beginning. As of now we've got fifteen games to go. Four months. Hmm. Addendum: My multi-talented friend Caro started a Tinyletter. It doesn’t have much to do with games but I’ve been enjoying it very much. Consider signing up! It will cost you nothing except your time.

up next is Botanicula

#game53 #borderlands: the pre-sequel #borderlands #2k australia #gearbox #take-two interactive #2k #agamewithguns #fps #first person #rpg #australian games #2014 #loot

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lingthusiasm · 7 years

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Transcript Lingthusiasm Episode 6: All the sounds in all the languages - The International Phonetic Alphabet

This is a transcript for Lingthusiasm Episode 6: All the sounds in all the languages - The International Phonetic Alphabet. It’s been lightly edited for readability. Listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts. Links to studies mentioned and further reading can be found on the Episode 6 show notes page.

[Music]

Gretchen: Welcome to Lingthusiasm, the podcast that's enthusiastic about linguistics. I'm Gretchen McCulloch.

Lauren: and I'm Lauren Gawne. And today we're going to be talking about the International Phonetic Alphabet. But first -- it was International Mother Language Day in February and even though it was a couple of weeks ago now on February the 21st, I think it's still worth saying a belated 'Happy Mother Language Day' to you Gretchen!

Gretchen: Happy Mother Language Day to you! Which we are wishing in our of mother languages of English, which is kind of boring.

Lauren: Both wishing it our mother languages. Do you have any other heritage languages that you wish to acknowledge?

Gretchen: I mean, technically Scottish Gaelic is probably a long time ago a mother language for me, but my ancestors were lowland Scots so it's a really long time ago.

Lauren: Well happy Scots Gaelic day

Gretchen: Do you have any other?

Lauren: My grandmaternal language is Polish and thanks to generally typical Australian attitudes towards non-English speaking in the 1960s that wasn't passed on to any of my mother's generation at all. So yeah it's still a very recent part of our family history. I'm the only grandchild who ever learnt enough Polish to speak with my grandmother in her mother tongue

Gretchen: Oh that's cool

Lauren: Which is cool, I wish I still spoke that much

Gretchen: Well I mean it's cool that you learned it, it's not cool that no one else did

Lauren: It's probably questionable how much Polish I remember today. And yeah, I always like to think of my Nan and my lack of opportunities to learn Polish on February 21st. What have you been up to or what's coming up?

Gretchen: Well, by the time this episode goes out I will have been to South by Southwest, where I will have done a panel with Erin Mckean and Jane Solomon and Ben Zimmer

Lauren: How are you not going to like die of fangirling at people?!

Gretchen: Because I've already met all of them anyway?

Lauren: Awwww I'm so jelly

Gretchen: But they're really cool and I'm really excited to be on a panel with them! We're going to be talking about 'Word curation: Dictionaries, tech, and the future' which will happen by the time you guys get this episode so you can check out the hashtag that I'm sure will have some action on it and we'll link to that in the show notes.

Lauren: I'm really excited for that panel. I'm looking forward to it hopefully - is it going to be recorded? Am I going to be able to see it as a non South by Southwest attendee?

Gretchen: I think there's going to be an audio recording on soundcloud that South by Southwest is going to put up online because they've done that for previous years. So I can't promise that they'll do that again but they seem to like doing it in previous years, I don't know why they wouldn't do it again so we'll link to that if we have it.

Lauren: Yay, excellent!

[Music]

Gretchen: So there's a problem when you learn to spell English, which is that it's really hard to spell English.

Lauren: It's really a lifelong learning process as far as I'm concerned

Gretchen: It's a lifelong learning process. You know, some languages don't have spelling bees because their spelling systems are so consistent they don't need them - we can only wish! So, the English spelling system is especially ridiculous, it's got silent letters, it's got something around 14 vowels but only five letters to write them in.

My favorite demonstration of this is that there's a phrase that has all of the English vowels and the phrase goes - I have to have to say it in a non-rhotic accent because it only works that way - the phrase goes 'Who would know aught of art must learn, act and then take his ease'. And each of those words has a different vowel in it.

Lauren: Cool!

Gretchen: And that's one way of remembering the vowels

Lauren: That's a nifty sentence!

Gretchen: Yeah, but if you try to write that down in English it's hard

Lauren: With the English orthography that we have, or the English writing system - orthography - that we have

Gretchen: And spelling systems are also inconsistent across different languages. Even languages that are consistent in themselves are often inconsistent when you compare them with each other. So, some languages use the letter J for the /dʒ/ sound [as in Jane], some languages use it for the /ʒ/ sound like French [Jean], some languages use it for the 'y' /j/ sound like German as in 'Jan' or 'Johann Sebastian Bach', some languages use it for the /x/ sound as in Spanish like 'Juan'. There's a whole bunch of different sounds you can use the same letter for depending on your language

Lauren: There's a really great tumblr post that kind of encapsulates this variety in the ways different alphabets that are based on the same alphabet English is based on, use their orthographies in different ways which we'll link to. When I first read this I was like oh look someone's just posting in Norwegian or Danish or something, but then if you sit there and read it and you know the orthographic conventions in different languages it says something along the lines of 'I wonder if English speakers will notice that I'm writing this in English but using the spelling conventions of my language'

Gretchen: And yeah a whole bunch of people have certain different versions of it - there's a Finnish one which is pretty good, there's an Irish one which is fantastic

Lauren: It's good, because once you know what the phrase is that gives you a feel for what the conventions are in different languages. For example I found the Polish one really easy to read and then for some of the others I was just basically guessing because I knew what the sentence was, and it really nicely illustrates this problem that we have that we all learn different spelling conventions for different languages

Gretchen: And we're not the first people to have noticed this problem! In fact people have been realizing this problem for quite a long time, as long as people have been writing with different systems. And it became especially apparent as writing systems became standardised in the 1700s and 1800s, when dictionaries are becoming popular and people were starting to write in a standardised sort of way and looking at other languages and realising that their standardisations were converging on something different

Lauren: I really love that historically there was no consistent spelling conventions, and so in Old English text we actually have a good idea of the different common literate dialects of people who lived in Mercia or people who live in Cumbria and because the way that they wrote English really reflected the way their accent worked. Once spelling systems became standardized that stopped being the case

Gretchen: It also became really difficult people for who are trying to learn English because even if you learn the spelling systems, then you pronounce the words the way they look and people look at you like "that's not actually how it's pronounced" and you're like "how was I supposed to remember that?" Various people came up with various proposals for spelling reform for either just like a more phonetic way of writing English in total, or for ways of adapting English words so that it could be used for specialised purposes like people who are learning the language, or people who want to write down specific things and annotate exactly how they're said

Lauren: And some people went for massive 'let's create an entirely new alphabet', some people just wanted some small reforms. So Noah Webster is probably one of the people who had the most impressive effect on English especially on American English. It was Webster who decided to take and consistently use conventions like 'i-z-e' instead of 'i-s-e' and using words like colour without the 'u' instead of with the 'u' as part of this attempt to make English spelling more realistically reflect the language that was being spoken

Gretchen: Yeah and there were other British reformers that were trying to do this, so there was a guy named Henry Sweet who came up with an alphabet called the Romic /ɹomɪk/ alphabet or the Romic /ɹɑmɪk/ alphabet, I'm not actually sure how to pronounce the name of this alphabet, which...

Lauren: If only was written down some where in a consistently pronounceable script!

Gretchen: If only! He didn't seem to actually write the name of his own alphabet anywhere in a consistent script so that's a shame. And that was based on mostly Roman letters but with adaptations for sounds that English had and Latin hadn't. And then there was Alexander Ellis who was apparently the real-life origin of Henry Higgins from 'My Fair Lady'

Lauren: Really?!

Gretchen: I dunno, that's what Wikipedia says!

Lauren: Okay, because I'm going to invoke the supremacy of David Crystal, if that's okay. I don't know if Crystal officially trumps Wikipedia, but in his book called 'Wordsmiths and Warriors' he says if Higgins is anyone it has to be Daniel Jones who is a phonetician who is very influential in terms of like codifying the vowel system. So what we think of is the modern International Phonetic Alphabet vowel space kind of started with Daniel Jones' cardinal vowels

Gretchen: I mean I don't know it could have been a composite or something

Lauren: I think to be honest that the most likely is that there was a genre of gentleman academic at the time who's very interested in these topics. Anyway, there was a lot of work being invested in generating some kind of writing system that accurately reflected speech

Gretchen: Yeah and so they made the International Phonetic Association in the late 1800s, which confusingly enough also has the acronym IPA, and they had some meetings and they were like, “yeah, we need to come up with a system for this”

Lauren: So the IPA is where the IPA was created

Gretchen: Yeah I hope they were all drinking IPA but I can't guarantee that

Lauren: In our reenactment that is definitely what's happening

Gretchen: Yeah, when we when we all get dressed up in historic costume (bagsies Henry Sweet), then we will all drink IPA

Lauren: I'm Daniel Jones apparently - no wait, I'm going to dress up as Cardinal Vowel, I always thought that would be a great linguist costume

Gretchen: Ah that's great! Were cardinal vowels invented yet?

Lauren: Well it was Daniel Jones who did that, I don't know when he was working

Gretchen: Oh ok good

Lauren: I mean we'll have to have a whole episode just talking about vowels and how they work, but that was kind of a thing that was figured out at the time

Gretchen: Yeah and they came up with some principles for future development of this International Phonetic Alphabet and these were: each symbol should have its own distinctive sound and the same symbol should be used for the same sound across all languages

Lauren: So instead of having the J sound sounding like /dʒ/ or /ʒ/ or /j/ or /x/ across different languages, every time that sound was used it would be used for exactly the same sound

Gretchen: Every time that *symbol* was used

Lauren: Yes sorry every time that symbol was used it would be used for the same sound

Gretchen: They also came up with some principles that influenced which symbols ended up being chosen for which sounds. So they decided to use as many ordinary Roman letters as possible and to have a very minimal number of new letters, and to use what they called quote unquote “international” usage to decide the sound for each symbol

Lauren: So they wouldn't like, take the symbol that we have for 's' and decide 'oh we're going to make that the sound for 'l' because we're crazy people'

Gretchen: Yeah, they didn't do that. But the other thing is, so if we look at the vowels, the IPA vowels look kind of weird from an English perspective. So the IPA uses the letter that we think of as 'i' to represent the 'ee' /i/ sound and uses the letter we think of as 'e' to represent the 'eh' /e/ sound and so on. And this doesn't make sense for English, but it does make sense when you look at a whole bunch of other languages like Spanish and Italian, and the way the Roman alphabet has been used for non-European languages generally falls along these principles as well. So they said, “Look, even though we're English speakers we're going to not do the English things”

Lauren: Okay, so they really did go with this kind of international general preference

Gretchen: Yeah, I mean, they're still eurocentric, they're still starting with European languages and kind of working their way outwards, but they were at least not completely Anglo-centric, which is helpful here, because English does some weird stuff with its sounds

Lauren: Yeah and we only have 26 letters in the English alphabet, a few more if we kind of pull everything from across European languages, and there are so many more sounds that the world's languages can make, so once we've run out of kind of standard letters where do we go from there?

Gretchen: Where we are from there is often Greek letters or Latinised looking versions of Greek letters because those were familiar to these creators. Another thing that they did was they would rotate letters. and this was partly because the shapes are still familiar if you do that and partly because this is the 1800s and people were typing with metal bits of type. So if you just take a lowercase 'e' and turn it upside down, you can just print your new character by flipping or rotating an existing metal type bit rather than casting a new one

Lauren: I have a really nice example from Australia, so I was at a workshop the other day and a colleague was showing me a booklet of Kamilaroi, so it's a language from the New England area of New South Wales in Australia, and William Ridley was working on this language in 1856. So this is even before the IPA was codified. And these languages have a sound like an English sound but you may not notice it in English because it's a sound at the end of words like 'sing' or 'bring', that /ŋ/ sound, but that sound can occur anywhere so you can have it at the start of the word as well as at the end. This /ŋ/ sound now has a symbol in the IPA that looks like an 'n' with a little tail and it's called an 'engma'

Gretchen: Yeah kind of like an 'n' with a 'g' tail shoved on it

Lauren: Yeah, and Ridley is one of the first people who adopted this symbol for use in his describing languages work in the 1850s, which was before the 1880s when the IPA was established. But this symbol had begun to be used for this /ŋ/ and it makes sense because it's like an 'n' and a 'g' squashed together. But when he sent it to the typesetters for his booklet they didn't have a /ŋ/ and so they just turned a capital 'G' upside down which sounds a bit crazy and it looks a bit crazy it looks like it's just full of upside down 'G's, but it meant that that was a way that they could represent this /ŋ/ sound. Apparently he sent it to some other journal in Europe and they just turned it all into a 'z'

Gretchen: Wow, a 'z'!

Lauren: Yeeeah

Gretchen: Wow, that's really bad! So I guess that's why it's good that another principle the IPA had was that the look of the new letters should suggest the sound they represent, so once you've learned the kind of basic ones and if you see a couple languages and you have a sense of what's used in other languages then you can often guess fairly accurately what an IPA letter is going to be like. So it's better to have a symbol for /ŋ/'that looks like an 'n' and a 'g' shoved together because that's how it's often written in different languages, a bit like an 'n' sound, a bit like a 'g' sound.

Another one of their principles was that diacritics should be avoided where possible. So adding extra little like accent marks or other types of small bits on top of letters was something that they tried to avoid for their basic sounds. Diacritics were only was supposed to be for if there's a modified version of a sound, but not for basic sounds in general. So in the current IPA, you still get these rotated letters, which must make the IPA very difficult for people who are dyslexic; you get small capitals; you get Greek stuff like the Greek letter theta is used for the 'th' /θ/ sound, and the runic and ultimately Icelandic sound /ð/ -- so the symbol that looks like an 'o' with kind of a cross above it, that’s from Icelandic and it used to be in English before the Normans came, that got borrowed back in -- so borrowing from other established systems. Because then you could just go to Iceland and grab some of their metal type bits, I don't know, or go to Greece and get some from them

Lauren: It's something that was a problem with the original metal type but it's also been a problem for a long time with modern software. So for a long time computers didn't really have fonts that expanded beyond the kind of really basic font set of like English and French and some diacritics and some special things. If you have some older software or if you look at older digital documents you have, y’know, people using capital 'A' for particular vowel sounds, vowel characters in the IPA that are symbols in the IPA that aren't in regular type or y’know schwa would be a capital 'E' for example

Gretchen: Yeah you can even see this on some old websites, people will use a different system that only uses the basic 26, plus capitals to do the extra stuff or maybe some places use like an 'at' sign @ to indicate a schwa, because we've also had a different version of this encoding problem with technology

Lauren: So it's not just the metal type it's also modern computing

Gretchen: It's also the byte! It's the type and the byte!

Lauren: The type and the byte have been a problem, it's getting better

Gretchen: It's getting better thanks to Unicode, thanks Unicode! So yeah the first version from 1887 was designed to work for sounds in English, French, and German because that's what they were doing at the time. It's a bit weird compared to the modern IPA because we're used to seeing it as a chart and they just gave a list of symbols and keywords that stuff was found in for various languages. So they'd say something like okay this 'a' symbol is going to be like the sound in English 'father' or this symbol is going to be like the sound in German 'Bach' and they just give the keywords like sometimes you see in the front of the dictionary. And then later, so they kept on working on it in the late 1800s and then by the year they expanded, published a version that included Arabic and a few other languages’ sounds, that’s when they finally publish it as a table for the first time

Lauren: So why would it be in it table, for people who aren't familiar with the International Phonetic Alphabet?

Gretchen: The cool thing about the table is -- so our English alphabet that you learn as a kid is 'ABCD' in no particular order, that's just the order it is, that's just for historical reasons -- but the table is ordered based on how the sounds are produced. So sounds get produced with constriction in various parts of the mouth and with different degrees of constriction once you're in that place

Lauren: So it's a nice feature based table of all the kind of combination of features in particular places

Gretchen: Yeah, exactly. If you superimpose a mouth onto that table, it looks a bit weird but you can kind of do it and you can see where each of the sounds is produced

Lauren: I have a link somewhere to an audible IPA chart so you can click on the sounds and hear what they sound like, but the ones on the very left side are all produced with just the lips like /p/, and the very front of the mouth. And then the ones at the very right edge are all the way back at the far back of the mouth, and that's things like your velar sounds like /g/ get made with that soft bit there or your uvula like right down in the very far back in the mouth

Gretchen: Yeah, it goes from your lips, through your mouth along the roof of your mouth and back into your throat. And the weird thing about this version from 1900 is that it's a mirror image of that so it has 'p' and 'b', your labial sounds on the right instead of on the left

Lauren: Oh no, that would confuse me so much

Gretchen: You can see an image of it on Wikipedia, it's all like typewritten, we'll link to that

Lauren: Wow, awesome

Gretchen: But it looks really weird, and they also have the vowel chart and the consonant chart on the same chart

Lauren: Right, okay!

Gretchen: They just have like a really wide section where the vowels go

Lauren: How weird!

Gretchen: Yeah, which is something else that changed later

Lauren: So there's now a table for the consonants, there's a few consonants that don't even fit, and then there's a vowel chart that's a separate thing, but it's very similar principle like it starts at the front of the mouth and goes back

Gretchen: Yeah, and what's cool is that the version that we use today is actually very very similar to the version that was solidified in 1932, which was quite a while ago. There were some adjustments made in 1989 and then after that it's just like 'oh well we need to add this one symbol because we found some languages that use it' but pretty much it stays very similar for quite a long time once it's established

Lauren: Nice. So it goes from left to right all the different places in the mouth, and then from top to bottom there are different ways just looking at the consonants, the ways to pronounce different consonants so you have the very plosive sounds like /b/, /k/, /d/, /t/ - we call them stops - along one row and your nasal sounds, so your /m/, /n/, /ŋ/, sounds along another row...

Gretchen: It kind of goes in order of how much you need to drop your jaw. So if you think about the sounds in the top row, your mouth is the most closed when you're making like a 'p' or a 'b'. You have to literally close your mouth for a second, you have to close your lips to make those sounds. Whereas if you're making a sound like 'r' /ɹ/ you don't have to actually close anything you're letting the sounds kinda come through. So the 'r' /ɹ/ sounds are near the bottom, but the /p, b/ sounds are near the top

Lauren: I mean that's the thing I found super neat about it when I was studying the IPA in undergrad was just how elegantly it captures all these different parameters in one table

Gretchen: Yeah, just to realize that someone has thought this through, thinking 'ok what are all the permutations you could put your mouth in and which ones do people actually use and let's organize this'

Lauren: And English just uses one subset of it

Gretchen: Yeah, every language is going to pick some subset of the sounds in this table, or if it doesn't we have to add something. So one of the cool things that you can do with the IPA because it's based on different positions the mouth can be in is adapt it to other mouth stuff. For example, Lauren Ackerman, who has the linguistics blog 'Wug Life', has made a table of emoji with their mouth positions as if they're making sounds in the IPA. So you can look at this table and she has things like the surprised emoji, which has kind of a round mouth and so that's like an 'oo' /u/ sound because you have to round your lips for that, and the 'ee' /i/ is kind of like a smile, and it is completely ludicrous but also great

Lauren: These are the important things that linguists do with their downtime

Gretchen: Yeah and the other cool thing you can do with the IPA is because you can use it to represent mouth sounds is you can write beatboxing in IPA, because beatboxing is done with the mouth

Lauren: Oh yeah, that must look amazing!

Gretchen: It looks so cool! I have a picture of it, of a chart that some beatboxing linguist researchers made

Lauren: That is awesome

Gretchen: So we'll link to that too

Gretchen: I mean we both have a lot of love for the International Phonetic Alphabet, obviously it's something we engage with a lot in all varieties of linguistic work. I think it's worth mentioning though that like, it's not perfect for everything, it can get really annoying sometimes.

Gretchen: Yes!

Lauren: Particularly, as I mentioned in terms of the fact that font encoding on computers is still a problem, you still occasionally will get proofs back from a publisher for a journal article and all the engma, they're all mysteriously like really ugly still, we haven't quite got there with them being part of the font set for every single font

Gretchen: Yeah and it can be hard to write on a normal keyboard

Lauren: Yeah it's also really annoying to write on a normal keyboard sometimes. Also especially in the vowels, like I get a bit of like IPA anxiety when I use IPA and share it with people publicly, especially for long passages of text it's not always that easy to transcribe things

Gretchen: Yeah, and as fluent writers we've gotten used to the Byzantine nature of the English spelling system and we we also know how to talk, but thinking about how you talk in a more conscious way to say 'what sound am I saying here, what sound am I saying there' -- that’s different. So it can be hard to write extended passages in IPA. I know if I make a blog post that has an English sentence or two in IPA, I'll inevitably get some corrections from a linguist or something that says “I think you're probably producing this sound here” and I'm like “Oh yeah you're right” because there's no spellcheck for IPA

Lauren: Yeah and also even if there were a spellcheck, you and I would produce different IPA transcriptions for our own pronunciation of things

Gretchen: Yeah and we're pretty good with understanding people's different pronunciations of things when we're hearing them, because I guess humans have a lot of evolutionary practice at that, but for reading things we have a fairly standardised system. I remember when I was still a young linguist back when John Wells's phonetic blog was active. He's a well-known British linguist who's involved in some of the history of the IPA and he used to keep a blog and he would sometimes write full posts in IPA. And they were really interesting for me to read, to practice but I also found them very difficult because he would be transcribing his own accent. And he was British and so he wouldn't write all these 'r' /ɹ/ after vowels that I would, so I had to figure out where all these /ɹ/ were supposed to be. I'd end up reading his post out loud to myself and hearing the British accent being like “oh yeah this is what he's trying to say”

Lauren: You would be saying it in his accent?

Gretchen: Yeah, I'd be saying it in his accent, because you can write someone's accent, which is the cool thing but also the more challenging thing about reading IPA

Lauren: Linguists also talk about broad IPA and narrow IPA transcription - so like, you can do a kind of rough-and-ready, mostly correct transcription, or actually if you are a phonetician and you're looking really closely at how people actually articulate things, you discover all kinds of things that you need to transcribe to capture the correct and accurate transcription but which people don't hear kind of consciously or would find really weird when you've represented it to them

Gretchen: Yeah or don't notice

Lauren: And there's often like phonological processes, like when you tell people that the vowel that they use in the middle of 'handbag' is actually, for native speakers if they say it quickly, it often becomes 'hambag'

Gretchen: 'hambag', like a ham sandwich

Lauren: Yeah, like a bag-o-ham. If you write it out in IPA, people are like ‘that's incorrect,’ and you're like 'well that's what you said'

Gretchen: There's a fun story about that, so English speakers also often say 'sammich' instead of 'sandwich' because the 'm' the like the nasal sound becomes like the 'w'. Except for Anglo-Italians; so in Canada there's like Italian Torontonians and Italian Montrealers and people who grew up in those communities often have a particular accent. So in that accent they say 'sangwich' instead of sammich' because in Italian the 'w' sound is kind of more velar whereas in English it's more labial and so it like pulls the nasal along with it to be a different sound

Lauren: And when you start transcribing things in really close IPA you can see those distinctions, it's really cool

Gretchen: Yeah and we often just reduce the vowels in words that we’re saying quickly or in the small unimportant function words we often reduce the vowels all to schwa or something like that

Lauren: I still remember in in my undergraduate class learning that English vowels will often change into schwa, this is the /ə/ sound in unstressed syllables and it just made me realize that for a certain set of words, that's why I was really bad at spelling them. Because you sit there and you're like 'is it amu... amuni ammunition?'. I mean, is it ammunitiON or is it ammunitiAN? That’s not a great word to use as an example but it's the first one that came to mind. For certain vowels, because it's unstressed and it's a schwa, it’s possible that any of the vowel letters could be used to spell it. So you just have to memorize what the spelling is because your pronunciation doesn't help you. And that's why I tell people I'm bad at English spelling - it’s not my fault, it's the fault of my stress system and orthography!

Gretchen: The other thing is, is sometimes English orthography gives you useful cues to distinguish between certain words or when a suffix who's added sometimes the stress changes and you have to recover vowels that are kind of there but had turned into schwa. So if you take a word like 'electric' which becomes 'electricity' - in some senses it's weird that it's spelled with a 'c' and not with a 'k' or an 's' because 'c' is completely redundant, it always makes one of those two sounds, but it does reflect that when it's 'electric' with the 'k' sound and then when you add an '-ity' to it, the 'k' sound becomes an 's' sound because that's what happens with 'c', but it doesn't happen with 'k'. Or the vowels also change - with 'electric', 'electricity' you get different sorts of vowels. So it's kind of useful to have some of this stuff there that was historically there and has changed in its sound. But it also creates this extra layer of complication. Or you can get used to speed reading because a word always looks like the same in spelling whereas if you had to speed read a whole bunch of different accents then an unfamiliar accent might be harder to speed read, but then again it's harder to learn spelling in the first place if you have an accent that's less similar to the spelling system

Lauren: But we still love the IPA for all of the occasional detriments that occur

Gretchen: We still love it and it's still useful to have it as an option to write something very specifically even if you don’t want to do that all the tim. I find if I'm meeting somebody and they have a name I haven't heard before, then I write it in IPA and then I can pronounce it correctly when I'm talking back to them. People like it when you pronounce their names correctly.

Lauren: That's handy. The Journal of the International Phonetic Association used to accept articles written in IPA, which blows my mind. So people would write about some feature of phonetics and they would do the whole thing in the IPA. I think it very quickly became apparent that that was more labour both to produce and to consume than there was any benefit in doing that, for many of the reasons that we've already mentioned

Gretchen: Like, 'hi I'm going to write about like long vowels in Sussex' or something and that whole thing would be in IPA

Lauren: Yes, I think academics clearly had more time on their hands 50 years ago.

Gretchen: I mean, to be fair, I have played IPA Scrabble, which is like Scrabble, but you do it in IPA

Lauren: Do you just kind of argue for your own pronunciation or do you have to do it in your own dialect?

Gretchen: The way that I've done it is I combined IPA Scrabble with Descriptivist Scrabble, which is a little bit like those bluffing games, so as long as you can convince other people that it's a word then it's a word

Lauren: Ah, I like that

Gretchen: Yeah, because like, dictionaries are arbitrary authorities anyway, so with Descriptivist Scrabble you can just use whatever means you have at your disposal to convince people that it's a word. Of course choosing an obvious word like dog or something is going to be easier to convince people than saying--

Lauren: blergh?

Gretchen: Yeah, than saying “blerg is a word, honestly it means a colour kind of like grey and blue at the same time” but you can try!

Lauren: There are heaps of cool things people have done with the IPA including someone has made a set of IPA Scrabble

Gretchen: Yeah so I posted on All Things Linguistic a set of frequencies and scores that you can use for IPA Scrabble tiles, because I made it with a friend in undergrad and we had figured this out. We just cut out bits of cardboard to make them, and then some undergrads at Yale came across this post and decided to get their friend who has like a wood cutting machine to cut these out of these gorgeous wood tiles and they sent me some photos which I've also posted. You can see those on the blog, they're amazing, so yeah so someone has made a wooden IPA set that I still have not played but it’s really cool

Lauren: IPA characters also make for popular tattoos because they're quite beautiful, so I've definitely seen a schwa tattoo and I've seen a glottal stop which is a little bit like a question mark - it's our logo!

Gretchen: It is also our logo. Do people get whole words in IPA or like phrases in IPA tattooed on them?

Lauren: Mmm I haven't seen any but if anyone has we will definitely be interested in seeing it

Gretchen: If you know any IPA tattoos please send them to us

Lauren: Well I've seen a couple but not that long

Gretchen: There's also a whole version of Alice in Wonderland that's published in IPA - so this takes us back to the Journal of Phonetics - and she's like talking to the Mad Hatter and so on and it's all in IPA. The weird thing about this particular version is that this publisher decided to also have capital letters

Lauren: Huh, interesting

Gretchen: And of course they had to make capital versions for all of the IPA letters

Lauren: Wow, that's commitment

Gretchen: Because you know if you think about it capitals are redundant, they don't add any extra phonetic information to a sound, so the IPA doesn't use them. And sometimes the IPA uses small cap versions of a letter to indicate a different sound because it's an extra symbol. And so instead this person decided that no, if I'm going to write it as a book I'm going to make capitals and so yeah it's very interesting how they decided them.

Lauren: Yeah, there you go. My IPA nerd craft activity was to cross stitch the consonant chart, I did that quite a few years ago and it's a very useful adornment in the office when you just need to quickly refer to some of the symbols. I also was going to do the vowel chart but the modern vowel chart is very very complicated and messy which is why I went with Jones's much more elegant original cardinal vowels

Gretchen: Ahh so you did a simplified version

Lauren: Yep I'll put links to those in the show notes

Gretchen: And you also did a cookie cutter, right?

Lauren: Oh yeah! I made a schwa cookie cutter for Christmas last year, just what you need, and it's a 3D printable cookie cutter, so you can also download that design and print your own and make your own gingerbread schwa or shortbread schwas.

Gretchen: That's great. There's also an IPA version of the game 2048, which came out when the game 2048 was popular - so that's the one where you like slide the tiles around and you try to combine to make bigger and bigger things. And so you start with a schwa and then you combine them to make an engma, which makes no sense phonetically, and then you combine them to make an esh. Again, this won't teach you anything about phonetics

Lauren: But it goes into more and more elaborate and less frequent forms

Gretchen: Yeah it does get to more and more elaborate stuff, like you end up with like a glottalised bilabial click or something like that

Lauren: Right, it doesn't officially teach you anything about the IPA but it is a good excuse for a distraction

Gretchen: You should not do it if you're a student and you're about to write an exam on the IPA, this is not a good way to procrastinate

Lauren: Official warning!

Gretchen: Instead you should play IPA scrabble

Lauren: Much better way!

Gretchen: Which will teach you some more about the IPA

Lauren: Or read Alice in Wonderland

Gretchen: There's also a fun sketch from the sketch comedy show John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme, which is a sketch where some characters encounter some skeletons and the skeletons are pirates but these skeletons cannot tell you that there are pirates because they don't have any lips, so they cannot produce the 'p', sound so they call themselves 'kirates',

Lauren: Awww

Gretchen: And the characters who encounter them are very confused, like 'what are you?' 'we're kirates, I said we're kirates!'. Anyway, I am probably not doing it justice but you should listen to it, we have a link to that as well

Lauren: Excellent

Gretchen: Although they don't make the point which I kept thinking, which was like 'Well, if the don't have any lips, they probably don't have any tongues either, so they probably can't produce any sounds because they're skeletons'

Lauren: They probably don't have any kind of pulmonic air flow ability

Gretchen: Like all they can do is clack

Lauren: Yup, Morse code?

Gretchen: Yeah! So skeletons can communicate with us in Morse code, there we go

Lauren: Yeah. I was going to say sign language just because I always seem to want to mention sign languages because they're always cool

Gretchen: Oh yeah please do

Lauren: it's worth pointing out that like obviously the IPA is for all spoken languages, if you haven't figured that out by this point in the podcast, I'll just make that abundantly clear. It’s for all oral languages. In individual sign languages people talk about like phonemes and morphemes in terms of hand shapes so there are some hand shapes that are possible in some sign languages that don't occur in others. And so you have a similar kind of basic feature sets that you can refer to in in sign languages. But because it uses a more complex modal articulation system and it isn't just limited to the mouth, then it's a bit more complicated cross-sign-linguistically, but they do have their own kind of equivalent of phonemes or phonetics

Gretchen: There's a couple different standardised sign transcription systems, I don't know if any of them have caught on at an international level in the same way to the IPA has, I mean to be fair there there are other phonetic transcription systems that aren't the IPA, it's just the IPA has caught on more than the others. But you can transcribe signs, there's a couple different ways of doing that. There's also the fact that sign languages have alphabets that they use to borrow words in from spoken languages among other functions and within that there are sign equivalents of at least some IPA characters, which I know because I've been to linguistics conferences and seen interpreters signing talks and they will sign a particular IPA symbol when the person who's giving the presentation is talking about that particular IPA symbol

Lauren: There you go

Gretchen: Yeah, I cannot recite any of them for you, but I remember noticing it and thinking 'huh, ok I guess that's what they're doing’

Lauren: Man, awesome!

[Music]

Lauren: For more Lingthusiasm and links to all the things mentioned in this episode go to Lingthusiasm dot com. You can listen to us on iTunes, Google Play Music, SoundCloud or wherever else you get your podcasts. You can follow at @Lingthusiasm on Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr. I tweet and blog as Superlinguo

Gretchen: And I can be found as @GretchenAMcC on Twitter and my blog is All Things Linguistic dot com. Lingthusiasm is created and produced by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne, our producer is Claire and our music by The Triangles. Stay Lingthusiastic! [Music]

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

#linguistics #ipa #International Phonetic Alphabet #phonetics #phonology #lingthusiasm #episode 6 #transcript #transcripts #podcast #accessibility

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rdmfavcpls · 7 years

Text

Dragon of Japan Chapter 1

Prologue - http://rdmfavcpls.tumblr.com/post/159914962777/dragon-of-japan-prologue

Title: Dragon of Japan

Pairing: Sebastian/Ciel Mai/Lin cheating Madoka/Naru previous Mai/Claude

Category: Crossover Black Butler/Ghost Hunt but I am trying to keep it mostly Ghost Hunt. Rating T-M will slowly progress.

Summary: Mai is a demon and she’s within the top 3 powerful demons, but she still holds human emotions within her demon life. She got over Naru’s rejection quickly but now she’s dying and her brother steps in to help her. What adventures will await the new and improved SPR? Warning: There is some Naru bashing and Naru is not a main character in the story. Lin is a lot more talkative in this which I will explain within the story.

Author’s Note: So I too have fallen victim into the Ghost Hunt Black Butler crossover universe. However, I looked through the crossover section and I am surprised that there is not a crossover with Ghost Hunt and Crimson Empire! So that’s possibly going to be my next project as well. Expect for the first case where the characters are introduced, the cases are influenced by nursey rhymes. Disclaimer: I do not owe any rights to Ghost Hunt or the Black Butler franchise. Please enjoy the story and constructive feedback is always welcomed. ~~Story Begins~~ Chapter 1 - A Haunted Manor

“Uhh...Uhh...Uhh,” Hosho Takigawa gaped as he stood outside of large metal gates that blocked public access to the large yard with well taken care of hedges and trees, a smooth driveway separated the yard as black streetlight lanterns rocked on their posts, riding the gentle breezes of the wind. Further away from the gate that they were waiting to be opened was a large two story mansion painted white, but the many balconies had furniture outside with fresh flowers enjoying the sun.

Takigawa - a part time monk that earned him the nickname of ‘Bou-san’ or Monk-san’. However, no one has been able to call him ‘Bou-san’ since the somewhat mysterious disappearance of the heart and soul of SPR. His light brown hair was still tied into a pony, the bangs framing his face, his light brown eyes didn’t hold as much life in them but awed at this haunted manor and the fact that his mouth was hanging open. He was wearing all black and vowed to wear all black until they find and see his precious Jou-chan in person. Preferably alive and not in a morgue.

“Takigawa,” another voice spoke. “I didn’t ask for all of you to join me if you are just going to gawk at it.” The voice belonged to the face of SPR and the leader, Shibuya Kazuya or also known as “Naru”. His black hair was still cut around his face, the end just brushing against his neck brought out his blue eyes, plus the fact that was the only color on him. He still wore all black clothing which was his trademark look.

“Sorry, mate,” an Australian accent spoke, “We have not been investigating a house quite like this as a team in a while.” Father John Brown was wearing a buttoned up sky blue shirt with regular blue jeans, a cross necklace was resting against his chest, his blue eyes were almost as perfect as puppy eyes and his blonde hair was cut short so his curls wouldn’t be noticeable.

Then a loud thwack was heard then silence as Ayako Matsuzaki hit her on-and-off again boyfriend, her long red hair was pulled and twisted into a bun, her brown eyes glared angrily at him. She was wearing a blue sleeveless turtleneck shirt with a white sweater and a black skirt. “You don’t have to make yourself a bigger fool than what you already are!”

“Naru,” a voice that sounded small and cute and fit perfectly with the doll-like appearance of Masako Hara. Her black hair was cut shorter in the back but was longer in the front, a perfect frame to bring out the lavender eyes that looked worried and scared, a pink sleeve with green floral pattern of her kimono hid her frown. “There are so many spirits here, they cry out in pain and confusion. There is also a bad vibe coming from the house, I’m scared.” The tall stoic man mentally rolled his eyes as the famous medium clung onto his charge’s arm. Everyone loved Kazuya Shibuya but he no longer really cared. His charge had been sleeping with his girlfriend who he was going to propose too (even though his heart started to have feelings for another) when his girlfriend sent him the wrong email. Needless to say, the chinese onmyouji broke it face-to-face with her but his charge still liked to fool around and apparently so didn’t his ex-girlfriend. The black hair was cut short for easy care but was still able to cover his blue eye leaving his grey eye able to see what was happening. He still wore long sleeved white business shirt with a black tie and black dress pants.

Koujo Lin desperately wanted to get away from his charge (he was counting down the days until his charge turned eighteen) but welcomed the antics and distractions SPR brought. They made him feel at home somehow, which was important for the backbone of the organization.

“Let’s get going,” the final member spoke with a smile as the gates slowly creaked open. “The Phantomhive is a big sponsor of BSPR and we shouldn’t keep them waiting.” That was Osamu Yasuhara who had his black hair tied in a simple pony, letting it grow out now for some weird reason, his round glasses were needed to let the bark brown eyes to see clearly instead of blurred shapes and colors. He was wearing a red shirt with blue jeans.

“I really don’t want too,” Masako responded. “That vibe from the house.” “I agree with Masako,” Ayako spoke looking at the mansion. “It doesn’t seem like it but I’m getting an ominous feeling from there as well.”

Lin looked at the house, the two females were hesitant about the house but he was drawn to the house. He felt like that by coming here, his whole world will change, there was something powerful within that house that was begging, pleading, and longing for him to show up, to bind themselves to him or to make a contract with. He knew he was being lured into a death trap but he couldn’t resist the pull.

“It’s only going to be for a couple of days,” Naru responded not even shaking Masako from his arm, a sign that he was thinking about making her his next plaything for the week or two. Lin knew karma was going to come back and bite his young boss but for now, he just bears with it since he had bigger things to worry about, like how to warn Ms. Hara about her crush’s heartbreaking ways.

As they walked through the gate, their equipment being delivered to the mansion the day before and the owner specifically asking for their vans to be left at the gate. They were busy talking amongst themselves that they didn’t notice one of the drawn curtains in the upper floor move as a man around the age of twenty-three watch them as they got closer to the mansion. The man’s long black hair reached his shoulders in a neat fashion, his red eyes danced with pride as they got closer, the light from the sun revealed an professional butler outfit that was traditional with the times.

“Soon, you’ll be fed,” he spoke the figure lying on the bed in the darkness. The only response this man got was heavy breathing that sounded like it hurt and occasionally turned into painful gasps of air. “Soon, you’ll be well again.” The man let the curtain closed as he proceeded to leave the room.

He had guests to take care and what type of butler would he be to the Phantomhive’s if he wasn’t there to greet their upcoming guests. None of our questions were answered in this episode? What type of show is this? It only led to more questions like who was the mysterious butler talking too? What is this case about? Where is Mai? I’m sure she wouldn’t be happy about Masako clinging all over Naru.. Stay tuned for A Haunted Manor part 2. Our questions had better be answered. Oh shoot, I just broke my nail.

#ghost hunt anime #Dragon of Japan #Crossover #black butler #Mai Taniyama #Lin Koujo #Ayako Matazuki #Monk #Father John Brown #Osamu Yasuhara #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #mai x lin #Ciel x Sebastian

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