#I just enjoy being able to talk to people more in my age bracket!

[janebonbon]

Wondering if.... We should make a muse roleplay account..... We sort of miss our roleplay days. We used to roleplay on Deviantart! Did you know that! Deviantart had a roleplay community back in the day... Maybe it still exists, but Tumblr is my home these days.

It would probably be the most logical to have one big account with different muses or else it would get... cluttered! I think...

But it sounds like fun... I miss it, I miss it.... It's always nerve wracking doing all the setup and wondering if it's worth it! But I'd really like to interact with others as well... I will have to mull it over...

[paper-mario-wiki]

I don't know if you've talked about this elsewhere already but was the break from streaming intentional and/or are you planning on returning to streaming some time in the foreseeable future? no pressure, I just miss your silly antics :o)

felt very burnt out from being someone who people are always lookin at all the time mostly! (and also a lot more reasons)

got a new job that pays just as well as streaming (which is enough to pay for rent in seattle with roommates, buy food for myself, and sometimes buy yet another japanese gamecube via online auction), and have been enjoying the feeling of not relying on anonymous teenagers and young adults who are just as poor as me on the internet for my income. It's something i was extremely grateful for, but it's not only a very infirm way to generate revenue on a reliable basis, but also i always felt an ever-present sense of guilt for it. like, instilling within other people who i know are in my tax bracket (one that is below the poverty line) the idea of "hey if you dont tip me for doing this free service, the quality of which is damningly subjective, I will be homeless. but no pressure haha" is something that i was never able to shake.

also like. performing is quite draining for me! the way i portray myself in my streams is EXTREMELY extroverted while, in my personal life, i prefer to spend 8 to 14 of my waking hours every day by myself in my room with my dog. i like the quiet, and i feel at peace most when i am not being perceived by other people.

lastly, i really dislike having inordinate levels of social power. for a several reasons. like, SEVERAL reasons. this is the longest section of this post.

8 years ago, i got way more famous than any 16 year old should ever be when i got tens of thousands of followers overnight for doing undertale shit. and i think it really fucked up my ability to make friends at a time where my only experience meeting new people was at school or at church, and i lived far enough out in the woods that i couldnt just go outside and hang out with the neighbors cuz the neighbors lived a mile away. my socializing skills in general are way more stilted than i'd prefer for someone my age. in private settings ive got my foot in my mouth a lot. and sometimes in public settings too! im sure if youve seen streams ive been on, youve seen plenty of "chase you really shouldnt have said that" moments. and youre probably right, i probably shouldnt have! my moment-to-moment gauge for what i should and shouldnt say is very slow to catch up cuz ive got like. advanced mental illnesses. like, im not joking when i say ive been formally diagnosed several times over by different doctors with shit ive never heard anybody ever talk about, online or otherwise.

i dont think that's an excuse to say heinous or cruel things by any means of course, but i also think that i should not rely on a job where there's constantly a microphone in my hand and an audience listening intently to what i say. im not at all pulling the "its okay that i say mean things because im mentawy iww" card. as a matter of fact i think it's not okay that i say them! and i feel very embarrassed when i do! the filter that separates "normal healthy thoughts" and "intrusive unhealthy thoughts" is thinner and more flimsy in my brain than in others.

ive only gotten this far because i surround myself with very smart, patient, and kind people, and by trying to be understanding and patient with others too. and ive begun apologizing to people a lot more. i dont like it when people are mad at me, and i dont like that for a long time i had professionally painted myself into a corner where im typically always the "heel" in comedy settings, because the "heel" is the guy everyone shits on all the time. i got this reputation not because i actively enjoy being mean, but because i learned to adapt to the aforementioned "clinically unreliable intrusive thoughts filter" by realizing i would say things that came across as mean, and in real time exaggerating that it into a character that people could shoot back at without feeling guilty while still having fun. theres nothing that ruins a good time quite like someone who is constantly apologizing for doing something wrong, and then continuing to do that wrong thing anyway. dont misunderstand, i absolutely adore dunking on weenies when everyone can get a good laugh out of it (like tumblr anons, who i think should be classified as prokariyotic invertebrates and not people (no offense)) but even though it's a joke it still feels very bad when that's expected of me when i walk into a room. because if i walk into a room, and everyone expects me to be an asshole, everyone is on the defensive before i say anything, and sometimes they take shots at me when im not trying to "play". even worse, if im a heel in a setting where it's expected of me and someone cant really keep up with "the bit" then that just means im being an asshole to someone who cant or doesnt have the energy to fight back. and not just any asshole, an asshole who has had nearly a decade of professional experience being a paid asshole.

if im being frank, i dont know if i'll come back in a full capacity. i might! im not ruling that out! and you'll probably still see me pop up in my friends streams, because i did LOVE what i did for a very long time! but after i took my "break" in december after being more stressed than ive ever been, and i knew it was no longer financially necessary for me to livestream, i had the thought "i will go back to streaming when i find within myself a desire to do so" and ya know what? i havent yet.

and DO NOT FUCKING BOTHER MY FRIENDS ABOUT THIS. if you post a fucking "hey have u heard what chase said" message in their chat or in their DMs or anything, im not joking when i say you are actively being the kind of person i changed my career to avoid! fuck you, for real! stop trying to interface with them to get some new piece of information or opinion about me you fucking weirdo! they'll talk about me if they want to, but going to someone who is doing their own thing and asking them to instead comment on someone else it is ALWAYS fucking annoying. if you want to think about me, do it by yourself! or ask me directly! or do it in the comment section of a video im in! or write a fanfiction about me and then throw it away!

but if ur not that kind of person then ur cool dont worry.

anywho! im sorry if this is a bummer to read. but that's the full skinny.

im still posting regularly on twitter (clown_depot)! and if i DO go live, either on my twitch channel or on a friend's stream, it will be posted there!

thanks for watching :^]

im not goin radio silent, im just gonna turn off the electric window that lets people see me for a while.

[schleierkauz]

Some Highlights from the 03.05 Stream

As usual, here’s some interesting bits of the last Cornelia Funke Q&A. I tried to structure it all a bit better this time but these talks are pretty chaotic sooo... bear with me. There’s more interesting stuff under the read more, I just put it there because it was getting so long. Anything in (brackets) is my own commentary. I hope you enjoy! :)

Inkworld

Q: What's the deal with the death bond between Mo and Dustfinger and will it be relevant in the new book? A: Since Dustfinger is probably immortal now, he’s been operating on a different level than Mo who is very much still mortal. Other than that, Cornelia doesn't want to reveal too much about TCoR for now. She worked on it the day before the stream, and she shows us the notebook she uses for it.

She thought she had a pretty good idea of what the story was going to be but more and more things keep happening and the book is already looking to be a lot longer and more complex than she intended.

- She will focus on TCoR once the move to Italy is complete and she's very excited about that since the Inkworld is essentially Magical Italy. She can't wait to sit in Volterra and write about Ombra.

- The TCoR sketch book might just be published at some point as a sort of bonus making-of book since it's already full of illustrations and other fun stuff

(That looks like the witch character, doesn’t it? I wonder who the other woman is... And god, I wish I could actually read the text. :/)

- The Inkworld exists around 1360 by our understanding of time

- The Mystery Chapter I translated ages ago is still canon! More info on that in the Reckless section

Q: Will we ever get to read the "original" Inkheart by Fenoglio? A: No, never. Cornelia's writing style is too different from Fenoglio's and she wouldn't be able to pull it off. 

However! Cornelia still hopes for an Inkworld TV show that would begin long before the story of the first book. She already has a notebook all about Dustfinger's and the Black Prince's childhoods, how they met each other as well as other characters such as Roxane etc. Fenoglio didn't care much for their backstories so Cornelia feels like she can explore them without stepping on his toes.

- A long time ago, Cornelia had an editor who thought Dustfinger was a bad character (lmao. imagine being that wrong.)

Reckless

Q: Will one of the short stories Cornelia wants to write about the Mirrorworld be about Nerron's mother? A: Interesting idea! She will consider it.

Q: Will Cornelia include African and/or Indigenous stories in the Mirrorworld? A: Yes! She planned to do it in the sixth book but right now it looks like it might happen in the fifth, so she's trying to figure out how to include South-American fairytales alongside African and Indigenous ones. She wants to include those stories through characters we meet along the way, without necessarily taking the story to those places directly. Or maybe she'll write a separate book entirely to do those fairytales justice. 

- The Mirrorworld exists around 1860 by our time

- Cornelia feels like there will be a lot of Mirrorworld spin-offs because she keeps having ideas and loves writing in that world

Q: Did Spieler (Player(?)), when he was in the "real" world, know about Capricorn and Fenoglio's Inkheart book? A: The silver book that makes people into silvertongues was created by Spieler. For a while he found it very convenient to travel the worlds through books but eventually he realised that books tend to develop a will of their own, which is why he ultimately decided to travel via mirrors. He probably knows about Fenoglio but Cornelia doesn't think he'd care much about Capricorn since he's playing in an entirely different league of villainy.

- Cornelia just signed a contract for a Reckless TV show

Cornelias new Farm in Italy

Q: Will she have animals on the new farm as well? A: Probably not! Right now she's more interested in befriending wild animals. Her dogs will stay with her but otherwise she wants to focus on wild animals as well as wild flowers. She wants to share her garden with any animal that stops by - including, hopefully, the occasional feral cat.

- Cornelia is getting into animation! She will work with a friend of hers who is a teacher in that field to create a little stop motion/animation studio on the farm so artists can bring their characters to life in a new way and create short movies.

Q: How can artists apply to be invited to the farm? A: Cornelia doesn't want people to apply directly, she'd rather leave it up to chance and fate. Most of her artists were recommended to her by friends or former colleagues and this method is working very well. She encourages people to post their work on the internet or send it to her via her website or twitter or something, she just doesn't want to hold contests regularly because it would be overwhelming and she doesn't want to have to reject people. Also, it's aimed at young artists who are just starting out and it’s mainly for girls/women, although not exclusively.

Side note, she plans to have another farm in Germany (probably in Schleswig-Holstein) and there will be other projects that happen there.

Q: Will it be possible to visit the farms, will they sell tickets? A: Cornelia doesn't want to sell tickets and definitely doesn't want "Disneyland vibes". The Mirror Farm (in Germany) isn't supposed to make money but she rather wants it to be a gift to her readers. They'll have to somehow limit how many people show up at once but there will be "open days" where anyone can just show up. Cornelia also wants to offer workshops or something similar herself once or twice a year, where people would have the chance to meet her in person.

Bonus: Life Lessons with Cornelia

Q: Does Cornelia have any advice for people in their mid-twenties who are not quite sure what to do with their lives? A: Figure out what you want to do and follow your heart because being stuck doing something you don't care about at all will make you miserable. And then it comes down to discipline and hard work. You might never get rich doing what you love but someone in their 20s is still young enough to try all kinds of different things and find a path that works. The important thing is actually following through instead of just endlessly thinking about what could be. Travel the world, try different jobs. Don't be fooled into thinking you have to go to university/college, that's nonsense. Knowing how to build a sturdy table or plant a good herb garden makes someone an artist in Cornelia's eyes. Listen to advice but don't blindly follow it. Don't be afraid to change your dreams. Make mistakes and learn from them. You live in one of the richest countries in the world, you won't starve or die on the streets so be grateful and be brave.

Misc.

- The three of them spend the first eight minutes of the stream telling us to visit this website and check out the cool bridge their bookshop is built on and the blackbird that moved into the store

- Cornelia's daughter got married and it was beautiful :)

- Cornelia is looking forward to moving to Italy and being closer to "us" and European artists. She says she'll miss California but she is incredibly tired of all the wild fires.

- Cornelia is now fully vaccinated 

- Cornelia is working on a book about two girls. One used to live in Germany in the 40s-50s, was blind and collected plants from all over the world with her father. She would write letters about those plants to her sister, and those letters are found one day by a girl from Brooklyn. She starts to go looking for the plants the letters are about in the botanical garden. Cornelia has an assistant who keeps sending her pictures from that botanical garden and it's a very fun project because it's very rooted in the real world yet Cornelia still gets to tell a story about a friendship that takes place through letters. She hopes to have finished it by August

- The Wild Chicks movie might just actually happen and everyone's excited about it

- An animated Igraine Ohnefurcht movie is in the works

- So is an animated Geisterritter/Ghost Knight movie

- Cornelia keeps losing books and other important things in the mail and it is pretty infuriating

- Cornelia recommends the book "Sand Talk" and once again says white people should be careful about not speaking over marginalised groups in the name of protecting them

[nicknellie]

@ace-bookworm requested: Monk Luke set in the Flarrie village

Congrats, bestie, this is officially the weirdest request I’ve ever received and also the weirdest thing I’ve ever written! I have literally no idea what any of this is but I had fun though, and it’s longer than I thought I’d be able to get it. You’d better enjoy it ajskdfjfjk

That Other Life

It was a bright, sunny day in the village of Flarrie. In the height of summer, the days were stretched to seemingly infinite sunlight, the fields buzzed with the hum of wildlife, birds sang the residents awake each morning, and the village was aglow with the giddy summer joy of all those who lived there. In every corner of the village, people were basking in the summer sun, enjoying every moment while it lasted. But the same could not be said for the monks of the Monastery of Flarrie. They couldn’t shirk their responsibilities and obligations just because the sun was out.

Then again, there would always be one who shirked his responsibilities and obligations no matter the weather.

Luke Patterson had become a monk because… well, even he wasn’t really sure. It was the only life he could remember, living at the monastery with the other monks, taking each repetitive day as it came. Part of him quite liked the routine and order of it all, but he often found himself longing for another life, one where he wasn’t mostly confined to the walls of the monastery, one where he could make something of himself.

It didn’t go unnoticed by the other monks how restless Luke got. He struggled to maintain focus when copying out extract upon extract or embellishing the first letter of each page. He typically wandered off when doing certain chores, getting bored of mucking out the animals and instead ending up in his quarters, or on one memorable occasion, deep in the forest with no idea where he was. He would get so lost in his own head while doing chores like peeling the vegetables and preparing dinner that it had resulted in injury and him breaking his vow of silence multiple times.

Though, Monk Luke breaking his vow of silence had become such a common occurrence that none of the other monks even bothered reprimanding him anymore. If Monk Luke wanted to talk, he would talk, and there was little that could be done to shut him up. He had also taken to singing from a very young age – it was more acceptable, because at least that way they could just send him to choir practise, but it was infuriating when Monk Luke would hum or sing under his breath and not even notice he was doing it.

One of the older monks had been the first to suggest getting him an instrument in the hopes that it would distract him enough to keep him quiet. So they had hand-crafted him a lute, and lo and behold, Monk Luke took to it like a baby to a bottle. Soon enough, the most common sound to break the silence in the monastery was not Monk Luke’s incessant chattering, but rather the gentle sound of him plucking at the strings of his lute, committing song after song to muscle memory, looking happier as he did it than any of the other monks had ever seen him.

That was until Monk Luke graduated from lullabies and prayer songs to rock. None of the other monks had ever heard rock songs played on the lute, but it soon became the most familiar sound in their lives. Seeing Monk Luke rocking out with his lute in the middle of a random hallway became as commonplace as seeing a bird nesting in a tree.

Monk Luke was all too aware that the other monks regarded him with some distaste. He knew that he wasn’t exactly the perfect image of what a monk should be. He knew that his habit of apologising to the powers that be for accidentally forgetting to do his chores around the monastery or breaking his vow of silence was not anything close to simply not forgetting to do those things in the first place. And he had tried, he had really tried to be a good monk. It just wasn’t his thing.

He thought that maybe his thing, the life he was really longing for, the life where he would make something of himself, would be a life where he lived as a rockstar.

But that, he knew, was impossible.

One day, Luke found himself sat out front of the monastery, dejectedly picking at the strings of his lute, humming a little tune under his breath. Sometimes he wondered if he could simply run away. The monks would definitely notice his absence, but he was so bad at being a monk that maybe they wouldn’t go looking for him. Maybe he could take off his robes and run into the village, find himself a cute little cottage to live in and kickstart his music career. Maybe instead of a lute he could get himself a guitar.

Or maybe there was a gap in the market for a rockstar who played the lute.

Monk Luke was so caught up in his own thoughts that he hardly registered the fact that someone had approached him and sat down by his side. He turned to them, assuming it was another one of the monks, come to coax him back inside and get him started on his chores, but he was mistaken. No, this was no monk, this was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

She had a soft smile on her face, her deep brown eyes glowing with friendly mirth, her curls of dark brown hair tumbling elegantly over her shoulders and lifting ever so slightly in the gentle summer breeze. She had a quietly kind look on her face, nose scrunched adorably, eyes crinkled as she smiled.

The fact that she was smiling at him specifically made Luke’s heart soar.

“Hi,” she said. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to talk, but I wanted to talk to you anyway. My name’s Julie. I could hear you playing from the village, I think the wind carried it. It sounds beautiful. You’re really good at playing the lute.”

Monk Luke had told himself he was going to be good that day, not break his vow of silence, not shirk his obligations. He had told himself he was going to just get on with it, make himself do as he was supposed to. But there was simply no way he could not reply to the wicked beauty sat beside him.

“Thank you,” he said. Julie blinked in surprise when he spoke, but he just shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ve never been good at keeping my vow of silence. It’s why the other monks got me this.” He gestured vaguely to his lute. “To try and keep me quiet.”

“I guess it didn’t work,” Julie said with a little laugh.

“Not even a little bit,” Luke confirmed. “Do you like music?”

Julie nodded, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. As a monk, Luke would never be allowed to marry or even have a relationship, but the way streaks of golden sun threw her into her own personal spotlight was stunning. She was stunning. Luke had never longed for that other life more than he did now.

“I play piano and I sing,” Julie told him. A brighter smile graced her features. “Maybe we could do a little duet? I could sing while you play your lute.”

And so that was what they did. Luke played a careful little tune while Julie improvised her own lyrics over the top of it. Their sounds met beautifully, colliding to form a song better than any Luke had created by himself. He never wanted it to end.

After a while, Julie stood up and offered Luke a hand. He let her pull him to his feet, their hands lingering together for longer than was probably necessary. The flutter of his heart and the smile on his face betrayed the true excitement he felt just from touching her.

“I could show you around the village if you’d like?” Julie offered, a hopeful lilt to her voice.

It wasn’t often that Luke was lost for words, but now he was. He simply nodded and followed Julie down from the monastery to the village. Luke had never been allowed down to the village, there had never been any reason for him to go, but now that he saw what he was missing it was all he wanted forever. There was row upon row of strawberry plants in almost every field they walked by, a gentle creek ran through the centre of the village and was broken apart only by cobblestoned bridges, a gorgeous green forest bracketed the village, and everywhere Luke went people looked happy.

He had known the village of Flarrie was meant to be a joyous place, but he had never imagined it anything quite like this. Quaint cottages, endless fields, farms and vegetable patches, a community garden, and even livestock roaming the streets (he almost walked slap-bang into a cow when he was too fixated on watching the running of the stream). All the while, Julie pointed things out to him, told him stories of her best friends – Flynn and Carrie, who owned the village, and Reggie, Alex, and Willie, all of whom were apparently very into music too – and she kept asking if he liked it, if he was happy.

When Luke told her he was happy, he meant it more than he ever had.

Eventually, when the summer sun was setting, Luke realised he had to get back to the monastery. But he gave one last promise to himself and to Julie.

He promised that one day he would leave the monastery and come to live in the village, where he was certain he belonged.

[putschki1969]

「KEIKO First Live K001 ～I'm home～ 」First Impression

1.Be Yourself: Live instruments sound so much better here than in the studio version but Keiko is quite shouty and out-of-tune during some parts (mostly the chorus). Maybe not the best start but hey, I still enjoyed it. 2. 始まりは | Hajimari wa (Beginning): Better than the studio version imo but overall pretty similar. 3. Ray: Definitely better than the studio version. A lot more ooomph if you ask me. By now KEIKO is really into it and not as shouty as she was for “Be Yourself”. Unfortuantely they kept those weird electronic sounds from the studio version in the live back-up track. I had hoped they would get rid of those.

MC:She greets everyone at the venue and watching at home. She hopes we will all have a great time. Next up is a song that hasn’t been revealed yet.

4. 溜め息の消える�� |Tameiki no Kieru Machi (A Town Where Sighs Disappear): New song for the album. I like it but it’s not my favourite. From what I can make out, the lyrics are lovely though. Love the rainy vibe

MC:Keiko loves how the following song opens up wide sceneries. She has always liked that about songs so after consulting with all kinds of people, she decided to pick this song for herself even though it’s quite different from all her other songs. It’s actually the oldest song among all her pieces.

5. 茜 | Akane (Madder Red): A very traditional sound with some Chinese elements I think. Kinda like Wakana’s Kinmokusei but not quite as good imo. But still, I am blown away, such a beautiful ballad. Fits Keiko’s voice perfectly. LOVE IT (just a few tiny little off-key moments but nothing too bad)

MC: Self Introduction. 10 years of Kalafina and vocalist at YK’s lives. Some promotion for YK’s upcoming live. For the next section she wants to cover some songs that she has sung during YK lives in the past.

6. 宝石 | Houseki (Jewel): The musicians don’t do a good job here, the drums in particular sound quite out of place and borderline grating to my ears. Or is it just me? Keiko is providing lovely and solid vocals but imo they aren’t quite on par with the FJ performances I have seen in the past. 7. 風の街へ | Kaze no Machi he (Towards the Town of Wind): This one on the other hand is absolutely FLAWLESS imo, KEIKO hits every note and I just love how she chooses to sing her lines. It’s different from her old style so I don’t think you can compare it to those FJ performances from the past. But it does remind me of the more recent performance I saw during the YK live in Taiwan. The musicians also sound much more balanced here.

MC: Keiko talks about the venue being in Shibuya which is a very important place for her. She would come here weekly during her time in school since she took voice training lessons here. At one point she heard a song by Yutaka Ozaki at Shibuya Scramble Square and immediately fell in love. During her time in Kalafina she would always name him as the artist that has influenced her most. So of course she has to cover one of his songs for this live.

8. I LOVE YOU (Yutaka Ozaki Cover): This made me cr even though I have never heard this song before. You can tell KEIKO feels strongly about his music.

MC: Introduction of musicians & reading some comments Bass.目黒郁也 Ikuya Meguro (she loves his solo in Kaze no Machi he) Key.ミトカツユキ Katsuyuki Mito (he sings a bit in Hajimari wa) Gt.和田建一郎 Kenichiro Wada (Hajimari wa, Tameiki no Kieru Machi) Dr.北村望 Nozomu Kitamura (she met him at the PrincessPrincipal live)

Everyone is going crazy about Kacchan (the pianist) in the comments. She shows off her haribo gummies and M&Ms in the clear bottle. Lots of fans are having dinner while watching the live which Keiko finds super cool. She had steamed buns for breakfast. I love that she is wearing her super old boots that she used to wear back in her Kalafina-days (during live-house encores in particular). She chose an outfit in which she feels relaxed. Keiko wanted some up-beat songs for her live so the following two were chosen quite quickly.

9. エンドロール (End roll) : So the bracketed lyrics are backing vocals provided by herself. No guest vocal unfortunately. Either way, a really good song that gets everyone hyped just as promised in the tweets. Reminds me of a song but I don’t know which one. I guess this is Keiko’s “Ongaku”, maybe it even reminds me of that? 10. Change the World’s Colour: Her deep voice is back!!! Combined with a super high vibrato voice during the bridge (just wow - that singing style is gorgeous, reminds me of her singing in Sans Toi M’amie). Btw, for a second there I thought she was gonna sing “Mata Kaze ga Tsuyoku Natta”

MC: She talks about her countdown tweets where she wrote down some lyrics of the previous two songs and was teasing everyone with some hints. Keiko probably wouldn’t have chosen those two songs if it hand’t been for this live stream concert. She thanks everyone for waiting so long for her return. She is super grateful to be able to hold this live.

11. 命の花 | Inochi no Hana (Flower of Life): Stunning! As gorgeous as the studio version but much more impactful.

ENCORE: Album Release =>  December 2; It was planned for autumn but it ended up being winter. She apologises for letting us wait. Her excitement when she mentions that YK has written a song for her album and Kore-chan has provided the guitar playing is so freaking cute. She is the most precious human-being on this planet.

12. 七色のフィナーレ | Nanairo no Finale (Finale of Seven Colours): my first thought was that it sounded kinda futuristic XD Also, you can definitely tell it’s a YK song but it really fits Keiko’s solo style. Love it, a super catchy tune, the chorus in particular. And those lalalas!!! *is dead* 13.& 14 Double Encore Synchronicity & Nohara  (Venue ONLY): Wish I had been there T_T

»——————⋆◦★◦⋆——————«

Can’t wait to rewatch the archived version. My faves (in no particular order) were probably Ray, Akane, Kaze no Machi he, I LOVE YOU, End Roll, Change the World's Color, Inochi no Hana and Nanairo no Finale.

You CAN STILL BUY tickets so be sure to SUPPORT KEIKO! It’s totally worth the money. The live lasted about 1 1/2 hours, pretty short but an okay length for a first solo live I would say. The audio and video quality are great and now that the live is archived till September 13 you won’t have to deal with any streaming issues. Find my TUTORIAL here. Keiko sounded fine for the most part but occassionally she was a bit out-of-tune. She is really straining her voice with this new singing style. It’s a bit of a hit and miss I feel. But I think she will eventually figure out how to sing her songs in the best way possible. Wakana did the same thing.

Now I am gonna try to order the live goods. Will let you know whether it works or not. EDIT: Okay, I couldn’t do it since the payment needs to take place on delivery...Stupid methods from the dark ages...Need to find another way to get my hands on the goods.

»——————⋆◦★◦⋆——————«

Based on her past experiences, an original album which expresses a "new KEIKO" with various sounds will be released on December 2nd!! A special song written for KEIKO by Yuki Kajiura - a legend within the world of anisong - will be included in this album. It’s titled "七色のフィナーレ | Finale of Seven Colours" and the lyrics are written by KEIKO!! Release date： 2020/12/2  Title：to be decided 【CD Contents】 ・命の花 ・Be Yourself ・Ray ・始まりは ・七色のフィナーレ and others (a total of 10 songs)

https://avex.jp/keiko-singer/news/detail.php?id=1085854

»——————⋆◦★◦⋆——————« 

Hikaru’s reaction tweet after watching KEIKO’s live stream concert.

I had a great time filled with lots of fun and happiness. Looking forward to the album!

[bisexual-horror-fan]

You Missed Your Cue. Metal Killer X Reader.

I watched the movie Stage Fright, I LOVED IT! It was so good and we both agree the killer from it is amazing and there is literally NOTHING written for him. Unacceptable. The idea for this hit me at work today, so here we are. 

Anyway, even if you do not know this boy, you should get to know him! This movie is great, check it out, ENJOY THE SMUT!

----

Rating: Explicit. (Again, it me.)

Warnings: Gore and violence, slight dirty talk, semi public sex. 

Length; 1.5K

----

You were a theater kid, through and through, you had been going to Center Stage for the past few summers. You were getting a little old for it to be honest, you love theater, of course you do but there was a wide age range and you were for sure on the higher end of the age bracket.

The show this summer was The Haunting Of The Opera, you didn’t land a part so you were instead back stage. You weren’t mad about it, you actually liked it, sure acting was great and all but the people behind the scenes are the ones who make the real magic of theater happen, helping with sets and quick changes and prop handling, working to make sure every little thing on opening night would go as smooth as possible.

It was a few weeks into camp, things were going good, it was all exciting, being here really reminded you just how much you loved theater. You were staying late, putting away some costumes that were finished up that day, once the last one was hung up you got ready to head out for the night, you started to get changed before going back to your cabin.

Then you heard it. A noise, someone else was back here, you were still half dressed when you turned around quickly to see the Opera Ghost standing there. You put your hand to your chest and let out a sigh of relief saying,

“Jesus. Sam you scared me. Why are you still wearing that?”

You paused for a moment, the costume looked...Different? A little off from the one you had seen, ugh the director couldn’t even decide on a leading lady, him not being able to decide on a version of the Opera Ghost costume wasn’t that surprising.

“Seriously. Get it off.”

He shook his head and you scoffed,

“I know you are all method and really into the role but you know you can’t take that out of the theater, you have to leave it here.”

You turned back around to get a hanger to give to him so he could hang it up, your hand closed on the wire of the hanger when you felt it, hands on your hips and him leaning into your back. You were still half dressed but as a theater kid you were used to changing in front of other people and being in varying states of undress backstage, him touching you reminded you just how little you had on though.

“Sam?”

“That’s not my name.”

Oh wow.

What was he doing with his voice? So deep, it sounded good, very unlike him, an interesting character choice, and one that was strangely a turn on. His hands were running up your sides and you realized what he wanted, you had liked him for a while, you were very okay if he wanted to do this, plus any girl in camp would kill to be the one hooking up with the leading man of the summer show. One thing you hadn’t expected was he wanted to do it in character but oh my God were you into it. You let out a moan when he ground his hard clothed cock on your ass and he laughed, his grip on your tightened ,

“God all you theater girls are such sluts.”

That voice, the way he said it, damn was it good. He had you.

“What should I call you?”

You breathed it out when his hands found your breasts through your shirt and he ground down on you again.

That was how it started, the two of you hooked up backstage that night, he didn’t take off the costume or break character and it was so good, it became a naughty little secret between the two of you. It was so fun, the role play and the dirty talk he would spit at you making you drip and get so excited. You would hang back more and more and were rewarded with visits from your costumed dirty little secret, it was rough and fun and so damn thrilling every time.

You two wouldn’t talk about it, sure Sam was as nice and polite as ever, you guys laughed and joked but nothing else changed and you kind of loved that even more. Doing this in secret, not acknowledging what was between you, it just happening behind the curtain and sets when he was in costume. It got bolder and bolder too, once some of the set designers were staying late, repainting some backgrounds on the directors request and the two of you hooked up on the walk ways above the stage, the ones that gave access to the lights, it was a little dangerous and you had to be quiet and you ended up coming so fucking hard that your legs almost gave out. You would have been caught if he hadn’t had his hand covering your mouth while he took you from behind.

Another time a rehearsal ran late, people were still around, filtering in and out, doing things, wrapping stuff up and you were hidden behind a rolling set piece, some grinding and fondling ended up with him between your thighs. You were so damn hot when he told you to close your eyes, he fell between your legs. Your skirt was pushed up and panties pulled to the side and he ate you out right there, mask pulled up just enough to allow him to do so and you bit your lip so hard it almost bled, your thighs wouldn’t stop shaking, not even ten minutes after he had finished with you and left you there. The walk back to your cabin was slow going with how unsteady you were on your feet.

And soon it was finally time, opening night, all the hard work and effort finally coming together. The show was going great so far, you were watching from your usual spot, you had this little place, this small corner that could be stood on on top of one of the sets. You could overlook the whole stage and be out of sight, it was out of the way and it seems like no one knew about it.

Well no one but you and him of course.

Speaking of him, he came to visit, you were already gushing about how great he was doing and how wonderful the show was when his hand covered your mouth. He put a finger to the lips of his mask, signaling you to be quiet, his other hand grabbed yours and he brought it down-

Oh he was so hard.

He wanted a quickie now?

During the show? 

In-between cues where he was needed on stage?

Fuck that got you so hot.

You agreed quickly, this had to be fast, hands roaming, helping free each other just enough to get at each other. Soon you were gripping the metal support bar, he was behind you, taking you roughly, fuck, you had to be quiet, one moan too loud and everyone down there would hear you.

Then you heard it.

That music cue meant he needed to be back on stage, his grip tighter, thrusts harder, you were close, so was he, you urged him.

“H-Hurry!”

You loved doing this but didn’t want to be responsible for the show getting messed up by him not being where he needed to be. His hand came around, gloved fingers finding your clit, you bit back a gasp, it was too good, him inside of you, fingers working you, the situation of doing it like this, you ended up reaching your peak just a hair before him, coming hard around him, he started to fill you, halfway through your orgasm. You had barely started to come down, grip loosening on the bar in front of you, panting softly, your eyes opened again to see it.

He was on stage?

But he was still inside of you, hands still on you, the one on stage in that original costume.

“Wha-”

Before the word could leave your mouth, his hand was on your jaw, forcing your head back, then you felt it.

Icy, cold, unrelenting steel dragged over your throat, cutting deeply, blood spilling forth.

It was so quick there was nothing you could do. Blood spilled from your mouth along with wet sounds of confusion and pain. You were looking at the Opera Ghost on stage as this different one, this one that was decidedly not Sam was holding you, hurting you, killing you, your vision was blurring,  then that rough voice in your ear,

“Oh no. I missed my cue.”

You would have laughed if you weren’t dying in his arms. Both arms were around you now, you weren’t struggling, weren’t fighting, his cum was spilling out of you just as fast as the blood was, the world was starting to fall away, you were fading fast.

The last thing you registered was him holding you tighter and that voice again, softer, different, familiar, didn’t you know who this was? It wasn’t Sam but-someone you knew, who was it?

“Too bad you are one of them. I really did like you.”

His name was on the tip of your tongue when the curtain on your life finally fell.

[risrielthron]

Who We Were

This took a good long while because there was a retcon in November of 2015 that kinda forced Risri into hiatus. When I brought her back for the paper in 2016, some details changed but still this was an eye-opening exercise of how I’ve grown as both an RPer and a writer. Anything that does not have brackets is the same.

Take a trip down memory lane, pull up the oldest ‘about’ post you can find for your character, and annotate what has changed and what has stayed the same in {Curly brackets}. 

(I borrowed this from @alyssa-ward​​ because what a cool exercise)

Originally posted October 4, 2015

Character’s full name: Risri Elthron Reason or meaning of name:  combination of Mother's best friend's name (still alive) and her mother's sister who died - Rislana (best friend) and Kiari (sister). The Elthron family have mostly played a back seat in the history of the Kaldorei. {Both of these origins have kind of changed. Risri’s name became a place that her parents named her after, something that was important to her father’s family in an RP with her aunt. The last name Elthron was chosen by Risri during her exile her original family name is Kal’serrar.} Character’s nickname:  Ris Reason for nickname: just a short form of Risri

Physical appearance

Age: 403 {she has aged 1 rl year each year since 2015 she is currently 408 years old} How old does he/she appear: to a human about 20ish {I actually think now she probably seems a little older to people) Weight: We don't ask ladies this! Though she looks healthy and toned. {I figure she’s whatever the average weight is for female elves} Height: Average for a Kaldorei {This has changed a bit. I have her just a tad shorter than Dragaur in human form so she’s 6’2” which apparently is short for an elf} Body build: She's not a body builder but her activities keep her in shape. Shape of face: Typical Kaldorei {She did not have a face claim at the time nor did she have art.  Her face looks like this art the most.}

Eye color: White {I list it as silver now} Glasses or contacts: none Skin tone: light purplish Distinguishing marks: Claw tattoo (gained during her Druid initiation ceremony) Hair color: Purple Type of hair: Long Hairstyle: up in a ponytail or straight down her back {when I first made Risri I had her in the pigtail hair style. I quickly didnt like how it looks and changed it to the long style she sports now. It has not changed since} Voice: typically soft {I imagine her voice and accent a bit like Gal Gadot’s natural voice} Overall attractiveness: again not really caught up in her appearance so someone may need to tell her and even then she will more than likely blush and stammer a thank you. {This has changed so so much from when I first created her.  She knows she is lovely and she will probably think you want something from her if you flatter her appearance.} Physical disabilities: none Usual fashion of dress: For events: dresses...she has discovered she likes pretty pretty dresses.  For class: simple black pants and a simple shirt  {So this too has changed from when I first created her.  She aims for comfort and style. She most often will be found in one of these} Favorite outfit: Dresses, she found a lovely gold and white dress that has become her favorite {I dont even know what dress this was but Im sure it was something from my early days on wra-I would say her favorite outfit is probably one of the ones above} Jewelry or accessories: She wears a button on a string around her neck. She fondles it every so often. {The button on a string has actually moved to her bag, she now sports a ruby necklace from Dragaur, her bracelet with several charms on it, and always has her camera}

Personality

Alignment: Good {I think I would classify Risri now as more neutral these days} Good personality traits: Loves animals, children, books, meeting new people (even though she can be shy, she enjoys it), giving, loyal  {This is all true except for the shyness, I don’t actually rp Risri as shy. She may be standoffish but thats cause IRL I am shy but Risri most definitely has no fear of talking to people} Bad personality traits: shyness can sometimes stop her from joining in, when she is caught up in research she may ignore others not to be hurtful she just gets caught up  {I think this one goes with the other, as for bad traits today, I usually say she can be stuck in her ways at times and can be over protective} Mood character is most often in: happy {I would say this is still true but she’s had her share of pain} Sense of humor:  silly things make her laugh {Not so much silly things but she definitely has a more snarky is funny sense of humor} Character’s greatest joy in life: running in the forest as a cat {Taking pictures and being a druid are equal} Character’s greatest fear: the death of her mother {This has actually come out in RP as a fear of mind control.  She would fear the death of her mother but mind control tops it.} Why?  Her mother and her are very close (unusual for Kaldorei, as they grow up communally typically), travelling with her mother in her formative years they relied upon each other What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Ris would be devastated if something happened to her mother  {I think the death of Latilda, and then when she thought Dragaur was dead, and subsequently the death of Suzi in the office are three of the most profound things that made Risri change some. Her fel contamination would come a close fourth Currently, if something was to really happen to Dragaur, Sky, or Selise it would mess up Risri for a while} Character is most at ease when: Researching {Funnily enough this might still be true, but I would say taking pictures is probably more} Most ill at ease when: at war {This is true, but as she found out both at Darkshore and recently when there are forsaken involved she has no hesitation in killing.} Enraged when: witnessing senseless destruction of sacred places or artifacts {I completely forgot that I chose that, but I would say it has not changed. She also does not stand for people she cares about being hurt, this one is tricky though and I often have to tame it down because of interactions with others.} Depressed or sad when:  she is a pretty positive individual, depression and sadness are fleeting if they happen at all. {This has matured over time. She gets very introspective at times and definitely will seek alone time when she is sad.} Priorities: Learn about as many cultures as she can, current focus is Treants. {So long ago… Her priorities currently are her studio, Dragaur, and helping the Kaldorei still homeless.} Life philosophy: Learn, Learn, Learn then share it all!  {This was definitely written back in my Stormwind University days. Her philosophy “Be kind. It’s worthwhile to make an effort to learn about other people and figure out what you might have in common with them.”} Character’s soft spot: her Sprite Darter "Flutter" {Also a certain worgen} Is this soft spot obvious to others? Sometimes {while I dont play it up too much she is very attached to Flutter. As for the worgen, yes when they are together it is clear she has a soft spot for the gruff one} Greatest strength: Passion for learning {This is probably still true but I would say she also is a pretty good photographer and a loyal friend.} Greatest vulnerability or weakness:  Naivety of how the world really works even though she has travelled the two main continents extensively she has been sheltered by her mother. {This was one of the things I retconned out of her when I brought her back for the paper. Risri may be unknowing of some human interactions but she is far from naive in most cases.} Biggest regret: That one time at band camp...seriously she is young so right now she doesn't have one but this may play into her development and story later. {HUGE change here... in fleshing her out in RP the biggest regret is and always will be the incident that forced her out of the Sentinels but not the results because it let her become a druid so its a double edged regret} Minor regret: she forgot to tell her mom about the time she ...oh that might not be appropriate for here {Again a change that came about from RP, that she threatened Dragaur with turning him in. She would never do that and she said it in a moment of frustration with him during a fight. It hurt them both too much.} Biggest accomplishment: coming soon  {Running the paper. Opening her studio. either} Minor accomplishment: joining the University! {so many things, her writings, some of her photographs, saving people at Teldrassil, helping the Kaldorei in Stormwind.} Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: she was almost not able to become a druid...story for another time {This also changed with the retcon, but I would say the time she spent before coming to Stormwind would be something she would not want others to know about and will probably not talk about to anyone.} Why?  She loves being a druid so not being one… {I have thoughts about what she was doing but its not fleshed out. Maybe someday and I can revisit this.} Character’s darkest secret: She is a pretty open book. Maybe later she will have a "dark" secret.  {So this dark secret is the fact that she killed 10 Sentinels. That also came with the revamp.} Does anyone else know?  {Several people.}

Goals

Drives and motivations: Curiosity unusual for a Kaldorei and need to have answers to questions  { I would say this is somewhat still there and aided her when she was a reporter, but her drives and motivations are deeper now and the result of RP. She wants to make amends and sees her work with the Kaldorei refugees as part of that.} Immediate goals: Make friends with the treant she met at the Grove of Ancients {Keep her business running, aid the Kaldorei} Long term goals: Become an expert in as many cultures as she can {Live} How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Locate writings and interviewing others, spending time with treants ((her contact will be sending her around Azeroth and Draenor to meet with others)) {So her plan for her immediate goals are tied together. She takes a good portion of her profits from the studio and the two books she’s published to fund her relief efforts} How other characters will be affected: may be pestered for any little detail they have about treants  {Most of the people she interacts with in RP would not be impacted.}

Past

Hometown: Darnassus  {God I was such a noob.  Feralas is her home.} Type of childhood: travelled both continents with her mother {so noob. She spent her youth in Feralas, Ashenvale, and Darkshore.} Pets: Sprite Darter named Flutter and a curious little white kitten {I retconned the kitten. Its only Flutter} First memory: Leaves above her (could be why she is fascinated with the treants...) {I think I’ll leave this one.} Most important childhood memory: Her and her mother on a ship talking into the night {This can stay too} Why?  The closeness she felt to her mother {Because of this reason}

Present

Current location: Elwynn Forest, Jazimina Amberstill's "Ranch" {Stormwind City, either Dragaur’s apartment or her studio} Currently living with: Jazimina Amberstill and Ritti {Dragaur} Pets: Sprite Darter "Flutter" Religion: Follower of Elune {no change, add wild gods} Occupation: Researcher {Photographer} Finances: moderate {no change though she has more wealth than she lets on}

Family

Mother:  Kahrysta Elthron  {Oh wow I totally changed her mother’s name.. Its Alistra Kal’serrar } Relationship with her: good {excellent} Father: Brezlin Elthron Relationship with him: vague memories, he died when she was still a child Siblings: none Relationship with them: Spouse: none Relationship with him/her: Children: none {though she briefly adopted Ritti before they found the gnome’s family} Relationship with them: Other important family members: Mother's best friend Rislana is like an aunt  {her aunt Tara, cousins, and another aunt I dont have a name for.}

Favorites

Color: Green and Purple {blues could be added} Least favorite color: Orange {sorry Drag, but I dont think its true anymore} Music: any Food: Chocolate Cookies {See answer here} Literature: Any Form of entertainment: stories {plays, dances could be added} Expressions: "Indeed!" {Its not often I get to use it but I do like it} Mode of transportation: Winterspring Frostsaber, given to her by her mother when she hit adulthood (about 50 years ago) or flight form  {Flight form.  The frostsaber went away in the retcon} Most prized possession: her journal {Camera}

Habits

Hobbies: Dabbles in alchemy {more than dabbles now} Plays a musical instrument? No Plays a sport: no How he/she would spend a rainy day: reading a book, any book {taking pictures} Spending habits: thrifty {for herself this is probably true, for others she can be extravagant} Smokes: no  Drinks: not normally  {no change, but she will drink} Other drugs: no What does he/she do too much of? Read  {Take pictures} What does he/she do too little of?  Socialize just for fun {This is probably more true now since giving up the paper} Extremely skilled at:  Keeping a team alive when faced with challenges when exploring  {Photography, writing could be added} Extremely unskilled at:  a lot of things but she does hate cooking {LIES...I retconned this. She loves to cook. I don’t know...but I am sure there is something. It would probably be something she doesn’t do and has no desire to do.} Nervous tics: not sure someone may need to point that out to her  {She plays with the bracelet on her wrist when she’s nervous. } Usual body posture: relaxed and happy Mannerisms: polite {extremely so} Peculiarities: …  {hmm, I am sure there are some that have manifested over the five years I’ve been RPing her. Perhaps how she will always address a human as their full name unless she has been asked not to and will still use Ms. Mrs. Miss. Mr. with that name unless she feels close to you.}

Traits

Optimist or pessimist: Optimist Introvert or extrovert: Introvert until she gets to know you then she might not be quiet {I would say shes more mixed now.} Daredevil or cautious?: A little of both Logical or emotional: Emotional  {probably more mixed now though she can be emotional she just normally doesn’t let it show unless she is very comfortable with you} Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat: somewhere in between, depends on how wrapped up she is in her research but she does have a habit of cleaning up if there is a mess  { I would say she is very neat. Sky drives her crazy.} Prefers working or relaxing:  working {definitely would say this is still true} Confident or unsure of himself/herself: unsure internally, others probably see her as confident  {a little of this still lingers but unless you are close to her you wont see it} Animal lover: indeed

Self-Perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: an introvert who is more bookish than social  {This is still kinda true.} One word the character would use to describe self: shy  {Quiet} One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: A passionate learner and studier of peoples, loves animals, enjoys outdoors, and exploring is exciting.  {A memory keeper, lover of animals and the outdoors, her passion for photography as a way to preserve memories is high.} What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? her passion for learning  {her compassion for others} What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? her shyness ((its all in her head too, she really can be quite un-shy when meeting new races or investigating something though in social entertainment type situations she is at a loss)) {so retconned, she would say her possessiveness when it comes to the people she cares about.} What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? She is unaware of her appearance most of the time  {She likes her hair.} What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? She hates her feet...not really  {I’ll keep this if only cause I dont know} How does the character think others perceive him/her: She sometimes thinks too much about this and sometimes it doesn't bother her at all  {She is very conscious of being a Kaldorei business woman in a human society. She strives to show that her people are trustworthy and kind.} What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: her shyness  {Since I retconned the shyness...I don’t know...Risri believes she can be a better person but its something that you work on each day.} 

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: opportunity to learn  {She is still curious about others and likes people watching. She thinks most people are good at heart.} Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others: hmm, I think this will depend upon the relationship and situation  {Oh most definitely, this was honed during her time as a reporter where she hid a lot of her thoughts about things.} Person character most hates: no one (yet)  {Elyza Morrowbranch} Best friend(s): her mother / Jazi  {Sky Stoneseat} Love interest(s): none (yet)  {Dragaur} Person character goes to for advice: her mother / Dean Crowelley  { Dragaur, Sky, Selise} Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Ritti  {Dragaur, Sky } Person character feels shy or awkward around: cute boys...oh ok anyone in an entertainment social situation, when she is meeting others for what she calls "research" she emulates her mother's ambassador ways as much as possible  {So such a noob.  She really doesn’t except older Kaldorei...she worries what they know of her past.} Person character openly admires: her mother and Rislana Silverwind  {Who is Rislana Silverwind omg I totally forgot this was a thing. Will have to think of someone else as Rislana is a Draenei now.  As for who she admires?  Her mother, Selise, Sky, Eilithe, Feyawen, Anegorn, and a few others.} Person character secretly admires: Dean Crowelley {I don’t think there is anyone she secretly admires, if she likes you, you know.} Most important person in character’s life before story starts: her mother  After story starts:  Ritti, Jazi, and the university faculty  {Dragaur, Sky, Selise}

If you made it here thanks for looking at the changes of Risri over the course of the last five years.  Its been a long, strange, crazy trip but I wouldn’t change much about it. If you want to do this, I encourage you to! And tag me cause I wanna read!

[makomori]

SIX | CONSIDERATIONS

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI x OC

Nishimura Yua has to take her nephew to his first rep practice with the Tohoku Tigers at Shiratorizawa Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi is filling in for the assistant coach on said team.

She’s recovering from a nasty breakup and he’s reeling from a stunning finals loss against the Jackals.

Yua’s drawn to his composure and honesty.

Wakatoshi finds her warmth and tenacity intriguing.

It’s the start of a Brand New Story; can they heal from past hurts and endure new challenges in order to help each other trust and love again?

CHAPTERS

ONE | NEW TERRITORY

TWO | FAMILIARITY

THREE | INTRODUCTIONS

FOUR | OBSERVATIONS

FIVE | THE OFFER

Length: 4.1k words

Wakatoshi finally has dinner with his mom after ignoring her for almost a month. Will he make it through the appetizers without getting lectured?

That's the problem with being the strong one. No one offers you a hand.

Wakatoshi knew he was in trouble.

When he called his mom to ask if he could take her out to Fuki Sushi, she answered with a suspiciously cheerful, "Absolutely; I'll meet you at 8 PM on Wednesday."

He hadn't spoken to her in almost a month— not since the day the Adlers lost to the Jackals. The nervousness he felt made the 15-minute drive feel three times longer. When he arrived, she was already comfortably seated in one of the booths. He hesitated. Her dark gray eyes narrowed when she spotted him.

Yeah, he was in trouble.

She sipped on her water while he settled into the booth. Most places weren't built to accommodate someone as tall as he was, but this was one of the few restaurants that wasn't too bad. He could sit without having to fold himself completely in half. His knees didn't bang into the table either. When he finally looked at his mom, her expression was unreadable.

Ushijima Izanami's dark brown hair was set it its usual immaculate bob. The sharp angles of her hair were reflected in her cheekbones, brows, and eyes. Wakatoshi felt like he was in one of her business meetings. She was the current head of the prominent Ushijima household, and a formidable negotiator. He swallowed. There was no use in prolonging the unavoidable.

"Okaa-san," he began cautiously. "It's good to see you."

Her expression remained inscrutable, and he fought the urge to fidget.

She then folded her hands on top of the glossy menu. When she spoke, her tone was clipped. "Is that all you have to say? 'It's good to see you?'"

He opened his mouth to apologize, but she didn't give him a chance to speak. "Mom—"

"You haven't called in a month."

(He thought about telling her that it's been more like three weeks but thought better of it when he saw the warning look in her eyes.)

She lifted one elegant finger and wagged it in his face. "And you've been ignoring my texts." Another finger joined the guilt trip. "Your dad called, too," she huffed. "He was worried."

Guilt wormed its way into his gut. He had spoken to his dad after the finals. However, the disappointment of his performance still weighed heavily on his mind, so their conversation was brief.

"Oto-san called you. Really?"

"Twice last week." She flipped the menu up and scanned over the appetizers. At least she was still talking to him. It would've been worse if she were giving him the Ushijima silent treatment, which started with a hard stare and ended with a demoralizing statement. He had often been accused of dividing people with his honesty, but he learned from the best.

"How is he?"

"He sounded tired. But he did say that his team is one win away from making the playoffs, so I'm sure he's been busy." Her eyes softened as she tried to hide her smile, but Wakatoshi saw it even in the dimmed atmosphere. It seemed like she had enjoyed speaking to her ex-husband. He made sure to file that away for future use.

"I promise to call him." He missed his dad. Looking back on it now, he's one of the few people who would've understood what he was going through. He'd apologize for his selfishness tomorrow. Right now, he had to put his mom at ease.

"Mom?" He pulled the menu away and gripped her hands gently. "I'm sorry."

She returned his gesture with an assuring squeeze. "I know," she sighed. "I was just worried. Both of us were."

Wakatoshi smiled gently. She had a soft heart beneath that tough exterior. "Moms worry a lot."

She quirked a brow at him. "Because they have stubborn sons."

"Where do you think they learn that from?" He pretended to duck when she swiped at him playfully.

"Don't push it, Toshi."

Okaa-san and obaasan were the only ones who called him that, and it was only when they were truly irritated with him. He felt like he was 10 years-old again and being scolded for taking too many candies from the jar, but he didn't mind. He puffed his bottom lip out and looked at her earnestly.

"Oh, stop it," she sniffed. "I can't stay mad when you do that."

Wakatoshi chuckled. At least he knew he could pull that out as a last resort against her. "I still can't believe that works."

"It won't next time," she threatened. The laughter in her voice told them both that wouldn't be the case. After looking over the menu, they called the waiter over and ordered three servings of the assorted sashimi platter. His mom initially fussed and said that it was too much food, but he assured her that he'd eat what she couldn't finish.

"Will you be home until the season starts?" She sounded hopeful; he didn't get to spend much time in Sendai during last year's off season.

"Yes. I won't be moving back to Oita until the end of September." He was on the road often for away games, but even then— Oita was nine hours south by train. When he wanted to visit, he opted to fly since it was only a three-hour trip. "And Saitou-sensei asked me to help coach a local rep team."

Izanami looked at him in surprise. "Coach?" She echoed.

He nodded. The timing worked out almost perfectly. The V.League season started in October and the rep season would be well into the playoff bracket. The schedules would overlap at some point, and the other assistant coach would be able to take care of things if he were away, but he would do his best to accommodate both. The Tigers had the talent to win, so he hoped they'd make it to the end.

"I've always liked Saitou-san," his mom praised. "He complimented Washijou-sensei's style."

"He was certainly the voice of reason among the two of them." Saitou-sensei tempered the Demon Coach's hardline way of teaching. Their combination of tough love and positive reinforcement was proven to produce championship teams.

"I thought you weren't going to think about coaching until the end of your career."

"I thought so as well," he murmured. "But I couldn't say no to sensei." Indeed, many people found it hard to say no to sensei simply because he was so earnest and passionate about whatever task he set his mind to.

Izanami smiled. "You'll be in your thirties before you know it. Thinking about the future is never a bad thing."

Wakatoshi rubbed the back of his neck. Mom was right; he'd be turning twenty-six in August. He'd always known that playing at this level wasn't something he could do indefinitely. Anyone who played professionally only had a small window to maximize their youth and talents before their bodies eventually started to slow down.

"Losing the finals made me consider a few things." His mom didn't force an answer from him when he paused, as she understood that it wasn't always easy for him to express how he was feeling. "I took the loss harder than I had anticipated. I let my team down." He frowned; embarrassment and remorse laced his tone. "That's why I haven't visited. Or answered your messages. I was disappointed in myself. I needed time to understand how I was feeling."

Izanami's heart ached for her son. Even now, expression was contemplative as he rubbed the pad of his right thumb back and forth along the table's polished surface. The Ushijimas were one of the oldest families in Sendai, having been a part of the ruling class during the Edo period. Along with their reputation for philanthropy, they were heavily involved with many businesses within the city.

For better or worse, they were in the public eye.

Over the years, excellence became synonymous with their name. The pressure could be unbearable at times. That's what drew her to Utsui when they first met; he was free from expectations and it showed in the ease with which he carried himself. She hoped that sense of freedom would rub off on herself and their son, but life had different paths in mind for their family.

Neither of them was faultless in the events that led to their eventual divorce, but she regretted that Utsui didn't have the chance to have a say in how his son was raised. Izanami lived with that regret for years, but she slowly began to grasp that the future didn't have to be like the past. When she placed her hand over her son's, and he looked up at her curiously.

"Wakatoshi— any person would be disappointed after a loss like that. You're human. But our family has always been in the public eye. You've had to deal with pressure and expectations from a young age. And eyes are still on you in that career that you've chosen. You've never complained once. You've worked hard and excelled at everything you decided to try. I couldn't have asked for a better son."

A soft smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. She had little trouble raising Wakatoshi; most of his time was spent studying or playing volleyball. When he first started playing, she often wondered what drove him to practice and play so diligently. But she realized that it was his way of staying connected to Utsui. Despite not being present physically, he was still an influential part of their son's life.

Izanami shook her head. "In hindsight, there was no room at home for you to express any frustration; I should have done a better job at providing a space for that. I'm sorry you felt like you had to go through this loss alone."

Wakatoshi couldn't help his bewildered expression. The last thing he expected from his mom was an apology. If anything, he was the one who needed to apologize for his selfish conduct. He couldn't remember the last time mom had spoken with him like this. Her unwavering work ethic and loyalty were things he always admired about her. She was frightening to everyone outside their family. But he had always been aware of her softer side; she loved deeper than anyone he knew.

Another gentle squeeze from her pulled him out of his thoughts. "I'm getting older, too," she teased. "I've had time to consider some things as well. Please, come to me if you feel like that again. I might not be able to fix all your problems, but I'll do what I can to help."

Wakatoshi was silent as he tried to process what she was offering. He needed people like his mom and sensei in his life to help him understand that he wasn't meant to do everything on his own. He learned confidence and discipline from observing and listening to her throughout the years.

When he searched her face, he suddenly saw the fine lines around her eyes and mouth, along with the strength that still shone vibrantly in her eyes. They were a testament to the life she had led. Being a single mom was difficult. People either looked at you with pity or loathing. She shouldered that negativity and protected him from it so he could live his life without having to worry about what everyone else thought. He owed her everything.

"I will mom— thank you."

She gripped his hand firmly and nodded. Those two words were genuine. They had never needed to say too much to each other to come to an understanding. The reality was that they wouldn't get to spend as much time together as they used to. That was part of the reason why she was upset with him not communicating or visiting. He was living his own life and making something of himself in this world, and she couldn't be happier for him. They would just have to be more mindful about making time for each other in the future.

"So, are you enjoying coaching?"

Wakatoshi grinned and nodded. "I wasn't sure if I would be good at it, but the first practice went well. The team is incredibly talented."

"Excellent," she stated. "You sound excited about them. I've always thought that you'd be able to use your instinct when you started coaching."

He tilted his head. That was interesting. "Why do you think that?"

Izanami folded her arms. "You have a unique perspective as a top player. Yes, most coaches are former players, but not all of them played at the level you're at now. You'll be able to connect with your students personally because you've been in their position. But I think you'll also find a way to explain the thought process behind your talent."

Wakatoshi mirrored her and folded his arms. The reasoning behind her explanation was solid. "I've always been told that I'm unnaturally talented at volleyball."

His mom laughed. "That would be an understatement, my dear."

"I think it's a combination of dad's talent and your discipline." He said after a few moments. His eyes warmed and his voice was gentle. "I wouldn't where I am now if it wasn't for the two of you."

Izanami's breath caught in her throat. She felt guilty for so long about the way her marriage ended with Utsui. He loved her enough to marry into a family that was the opposite of who he was as an individual. But in the end, she couldn't protect him from her family's expectations and strictness. She knew Wakatoshi wasn't resentful about not having Utsui in his life, but she still carried that responsibility with her. Hearing him say that they were able to accomplish something positive in his life despite their divorce— that was enough for her to let go of that weight.

"Wakatoshi that's— I've never thought of it that way. You were so happy every time you played with your dad. I knew that you'd do well in volleyball from the start." She rubbed at the corners of her eyes to stop herself from getting too emotional. "And I didn't understand it at the time, but he was correct in protecting your left hand. You were able to stand out and excel because of his decision."

Wakatoshi agreed. Being different had always been his best weapon. "I'm grateful. Not everyone is able to choose a career they love."

"That's very true." She gave him a pointed look before she spoke again. "But please do everything you can to stay healthy. You're not getting any younger."

He was fortunate that he hadn't suffered any serious injuries since he start playing in elementary school. He couldn't bear the thought of sitting on the sidelines. "Always. Injuries mean that I won't be able to play, and that's unacceptable."

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. Otherwise I'll start worrying again."

"Worrying is a part of your job," he joked. "But I should've spoken with you sooner. I truly am sorry."

Izanami shook her head and waved him off. "I am, too. We'll be learning more about each other as we go along. But it's good to have you home."

They were starving when the sashimi arrived. Mom helped negotiate a better lease with Fukase-san's landlord, so he always wanted to give her free food whenever she ate there. But she was stubborn and insisted on paying because she wanted to support his restaurant in whatever way she could. It was good he wasn't working tonight because the two of them usually got into an argument over comping her meal.

When Izanami updated him on what was happening with obaasan, he remembered the Boswellia supplements sensei gave to him at the end of practice on Saturday. "Could you give these to obaasan? Sensei said it might help with her arthritis."

She took the pills and stashed them away in her purse. "You need to come to the house and convince her to take her medication consistently." He tried not to laugh at her exasperated tone. "She barely listens to me anymore. And then she complains that everything hurts too much. But I'm sure she'll do anything for her grandson."

Wakatoshi smiled at the image of mom and obaasan clashing over this. She was even more stubborn than her daughter. "In that case, I think these might help." He pulled out two bags of sweet and sour Hi-Chews from his coat pocket. "Tell her it's from me. Maybe then she'll feel better about taking her medicine."

"You have a good heart, Wakatoshi," she said with affection. "That's one of the first things I noticed about your dad. He was always helping people in some way."

During the few times they went out as a family, dad usually ended up helping people carry their groceries or helping older ladies across the street; there was something universally appealing about his kindness.

"He said he never understood how people think you're intimidating or unapproachable," his mom continued. Then she sighed. "But that's an Ushijima trait."

"Yua-san said something similar." The back of his neck warmed when he remembered how shocked he felt when she described him as sweet.

"Yua-san?"

"Our team manager," he clarified. "When I met her last week, she said I was sweet."

Izanami's eyes flickered with curiosity. Any mention of a woman in her son's life was always interesting, especially now that he was older. She hadn't been impressed with his last two girlfriends, and she didn't say that out of spite. They were only interested in Wakatoshi's looks, not who he was as a man.

"Her nephew is one of my students. I helped him understand that losing isn't always a bad thing." Wakatoshi continued, unaware of his mom's protective thoughts. "I've never seen anyone react so positively to something I had to say."

Izanami leaned back against the booth. She liked what she heard so far. "Yua-san is a wise woman. There's always more to a person than what they present on the surface. But not everyone is willing or able to take the time to know someone on that level."

Wakatoshi nodded. "Still— she surprised me. No one has ever described me as sweet."

"Like I said, she sounds wise," Izanami mused. "Unlike that last woman you dated. What was her name again? Aoi-san?"

He nearly groaned. He hoped his ex-girlfriend wouldn't come up during their dinner. Or at all. "I'm surprised you remembered her name. You and obaasan took an instant dislike to her."

His mom rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Well, we weren't wrong. She was only interested in your looks. No wonder you two lasted only lasted three months."

"Okaa-san." He admonished. She was unfazed by his warning and gave a look that dared him to oppose her. "The season was grueling last year. I couldn't give her the attention she deserved."

Izanami leaned forward. He did not just try to justify her actions. "You mean the attention she thought she deserved. You said to me several times you felt that you were the only one contributing to the relationship. I heard you say never heard you say once that she reciprocated your actions."

Wakatoshi stared at her. His mouth gaped slightly when the truth of her words finally hit him. In the end, Aoi only wanted to talk about him when it was beneficial for her. She was only interested in flaunting that he was superstar player in the V.League. The fact that they were constantly travelling for work didn't help either. She was a rising model and had an even more hectic schedule than he did. And when they did finally get together, he was usually tired from training or playing games. She was always rearing to go out while he just wanted to rest.

When he looked back his mom, fury was written on her face, but it dissipated after a few seconds. "Forgive me," she said on an exhale. "You're a grown man now, but you're also my son. It's hard not to get emotional about your relationships."

"I understand," he soothed. "You worry because you love me. You're right. Our relationship was shallow. And it was bound to end with how frantic our schedules were."

"Well," Izanami huffed. "I'm hardly qualified to give you relationship advice considering how things ended up with your dad. But I can sniff out a shameless social climber from a mile away."

"I'll keep that in mind." It was his turn to sigh. "But my schedule doesn't seem to be compatible with dating since I'm on the road often." That was something he was concerned about as well. Depending on how his career went, he could end up playing for volleyball leagues in different countries. His family would have to relocate with him when the time came. Being married to a professional athlete wasn't going to be easy.

"That's not true," his mom said declared. "If you're interested in someone, you'll make time for them. You just haven't found the right woman yet."

Wakatoshi shook his head. "There's also that to consider. I don't know what the right woman looks like." That's not true, either. An image of Yua-san and her bright smile flashed in his mind while the intense feeling of their connection snaked up his arm. He could say with certainty that he hadn't felt this way with Aoi or anyone else.

"All you need to do is look out for one thing."

A knowing smile graced her lips. That usually didn't bode well for him. He was hesitant to ask, but he was also willing to take any advice when it came to this area of his life.

"And what is that?"

"Look out for the woman who becomes more important than volleyball."

Wakatoshi blinked. More important than volleyball? It was a part of who he was. Could it be that easy to find such a woman? He rubbed the back of his neck again. "With the way my life is going right now, I don't think she'll show up anytime soon."

Izanami laughed. Now that the challenge was out in the open, it would be interesting to see how things would turn out. "Be careful what you say, Wakatoshi. The universe just might take you up on that."

An hour later they pulled into the Ushijima ancestral manor's expansive driveway. Nothing had changed since his last visit, and he doubted that anything would. This was his childhood home, but he wasn't sure he wanted to raise his own children here. Anyway, he was getting ahead of himself. He opened the car door for his mom and helped her out.

They chatted comfortably until they reached the front door. Wakatoshi wasn't prepared for the warm, giant hug his mom gave him. She was shorter than Yua-san, so he took care not to crush her when he hugged her back. After pulling away, she straightened the patted down the non-existent wrinkles in his overcoat. He grinned. She would always see him as her little boy in some way.

"Please don't be a stranger to your own mother," she scolded lightly.

He tapped his chin. "I can't make any promises now that I'm a coach. The season is going to be terribly busy."

Izanami raised her brows. "I'm sure Saitou-san would agree that your family takes priority," she said dryly. "And you're lucky obaasan sleeps early now. Otherwise I'd make you come in and say hello. You know she loves telling stories."

Wakatoshi grimaced. "Then I'd be obligated to sleepover."

"You can do that next time," she promised. She slid the front door open and moved to go in but paused and turned to face him again. "You're always welcome to come home. Thank you for dinner. It was lovely."

"It was the least I could do. Oyasumi."

Wakatoshi walked back to his car after he made sure she was inside. The drive this time was peaceful. Okaa-san was right.

It was good to be home.

[joontier]

“One-Love”| CH. 2 - The Newcomer

–> Summary: Love translates to zero in the tennis scoring system – the only thing keeping the scoreless player on the court is his love for the game.

–> Pairings: jung hoseok x female reader; kim seokjin x female reader

–> Rating: NC17

–> Genre/warnings: tennis player hoseok! au; tennis player seokjin! au; crazy rich asians inspired! au; fluff, humor (as usual), eventual smut; more warnings as the story progresses

–> Words: 2.4k

–> A/N: Words that are both in bold and italics are spoken in Korean

“One-Love” Masterlist

Chapter 2: The Newcomer

“Jung Hoseok!”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance when he runs past you, letting out an evil cackle. “That’s right! Run away before I catch up Jung!”

“Ah your Korean is improving! I wish your legs would too!”

Tennis lessons with Hoseok are on a daily basis now: mornings with him during Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and you spend afternoons with him during the remaining days. Although Hoseok won’t be able to beat you in a game anytime soon, the boy is continuously working on his ground shots and is making daily progress.

Hoseok’s regular training has not only drastically improved his skills but also your father’s tennis clinic. For some reason, your cheeky stranger-turned-friend had convinced at least twenty more people to play tennis, both students and parents alike. Soon enough, your dad’s tennis clinic was flourishing. All six courts at Thames were fully-booked during mornings and afternoons.

When Hoseok initially expressed his intention to train daily, it had worried your father because he knew daily practice could easily burn Hoseok out and eventually stop playing altogether and for Hoseok was not worth the risk, especially for someone like him who has shown so much potential in such a short period of time.

Hoseok was relentless nevertheless, constantly convincing your father to have his trainings scheduled on a daily basis. As much as your father enjoys teaching the sport he loves the most, he always prioritizes his students’ well-being before anything else.

When you had asked Hoseok about it, he was undecided if he had plans of going professional. All he knew was that he wanted to take his training seriously, wherever it may take him in the future. He had the markings of a true athlete – passionate and determined, but in this discipline, you can only get so far without support (and later on, sponsors).

Your father then advised Hoseok to voice this concern to his parents to help him decide. The boy came to practice one afternoon, his mother trailing behind him and both clad in a matching all-white ensemble just like when you first saw Hoseok. Mrs. Jung, unsurprisingly just as bright as her son, was smiling the whole way though. “Well, Hobi talks so much about it that I wanted to try it for myself too,” she jokes as Hoseok shows her around and introduces her to the rest of the group.

Hoseok leaves his mother with your dad for the meanwhile while he gets his warm-ups done. She tells him on, telling stories of how her son would come home all sticky from practice, sharing what he had done both at school and during training. “Truth is…” she starts, watching her son jog laps around the court, “…I’ve never seen my son so happy before. He’s even doing better in school nowadays! I know he’s already smart but he’s definitely different now…”

“Your son is very smart, Mrs. Jung,” you can’t help but attest her statement. It’s the truth anyways and you’re going to support you friend all the way.

“Ah you must be ________!” Mrs. Jung extends her arm out and you return the gesture. “Oh you’re too sweet. No wonder Hobi lik—”

“Mom!” Hoseok cuts in quickly, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, she gets carried away all the time.” He pulls her away from where you and your dad were standing, muttering about learning basic stretching routines and spreading rumors as he drags her away.

-

“Seokjin Kim,” Nadia mutters from where she’s seated from the bleachers, only a meter away from where you’re standing in the court. With one hand holding up the cookie she’s munching on, the other sweeps away the crumbs that fall on the glossy pages of her book.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seokjin Kim!” Her voice gets louder, catching the attention of a few students who were passing by. She points with a chocolate chip-stained finger to the boy who’s drawing attention to himself with his unforeseen talent.

“Seokjin Kim – one year ahead, owns two penthouses at Narra Residences aka just the most expensive residential building in this country? Shipping magnate? Kim Logistics? DM Forwarding Services? Surely, you’ve heard one of those names…” You don’t answer, not following where she’s this conversation was heading. “…right?” She purses her lips at you, ‘tsk’-ing at your lack of knowledge on these ‘basic’ things.  Honestly, you haven’t been paying much attention to what she’s telling you for the past minute, but who could possibly have?

His broad shoulders alone are enough to demand attention. You honestly would have mistaken him for a swimmer than a tennis player with the sheer broadness of it. The boy unbelievably has sharp features too for someone who is allegedly around your age. Strong brows, cat-like eyes, and those lips, god! You don’t even want to start on those plump lips, how wonderful it must feel to touch them with the pads of your fingers, how soft they must be against your slightly calloused fingers. As if on cue, the stranger lets his tongue poke out a little to moisten those glorious lips that it takes such a great effort from you not to gasp.

Nearly inhuman face aside, you are at awe at how he hits the ball with such power. Almost all his shots land near the baseline. For once you see Agus, one of the lead instructors, return them with slight struggle. For now, tennis at Thames was viewed as more of additional fitness regime for students and parents alike. Thames wasn’t known for homing aspiring tennis players, though that was ought to change when your dad came to the school. That’s why when Seokjin readies himself for a serve, you see Agus move a few steps behind the baseline, feet shuffling – one thing latter the only does when he’s nervous.

Admittedly, there was still obviously plenty to work on – Seokjin’s forehand is comparatively weak, his slices only land with pure luck but this new kid’s backhand and serves are fatal. He makes up the lack of spin with his strength, which is by the way, evidenced by the expanse of skin afforded by his sleeveless dry-fit top where his toned arms are on full display.

Surely this boy couldn’t possibly be a year older than you as mentioned by Nadia? With a face and body like that?  

“Well honey, let me fill you in on the basics. Seokjin Kim, one of two heirs of shipping magnate Hyungjin Kim. Nearing a century in the industry, Kim Logistics is one of the leading multinational logistics company, supporting global trade in over a hundred countries and servicing the world through eighty thousand employees. Kim Logistics has monopolized the shipping industry particularly in Asia where the shortened name ‘KimLo’ has been declared a household name for forwarding services.”

You let out a puff of air, breathless even though Nadia did all the speaking. How she learned all this information was beyond you. “On top of that, his dad is included in Forbes Korea’s Top 20.”

“Who are you talking about?” The same question is heard for the second time today, this time by Hoseok who sets his tennis bag down beside a sighing Nadia. “Do y’all even know a single soul in this campus?”

“Nope. Sorry who are you again?”

“Hey! I just got here!”  

As Hoseok rummages through his bag for his shoes, you tell him about the newcomer, Nadia reluctantly filling in the details you couldn’t remember. Just like you, Hoseok doesn’t really pay attention to what this Seokjin dude has to offer, how much his family was worth, or what damned list his father is on. He watches you watch the newcomer with such fascination, wondering if you find him attractive or you were just curious. Undoubtedly, Seokjin Kim was truly a sight to behold, that he can admit to himself but will never say out loud, not when there’s going to be another guy who could possibly steal all your attention.

You don’t even notice that he’s gotten braces.

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Hoseok has been harboring quite the crush on you. His mother knows, his best friend Namjoon knows, Jimin knows (for some reason, the now eight-year-president has the sense for these things), twins Jason and Jake from tennis know, heck, even Mickey, the family dog, probably knows he likes you! Obviously like the coward that he is, there is absolutely no way he’s going to confess his feelings, not when you’re already great friends. He’s already decided that your friendship is worth more than a romantic one.

Soon enough, your father calls you both to the court for practice. You both bid Nadia goodbye, who decides it’s time for to her to go home and finish some school work. Your dad waves, gesturing for you to come over where he is, now standing beside Seokjin. Hoseok’s heart clenches when you greet the new guy, jealousy adding to the pain brought about by the new installments on his teeth. Nevertheless, he follows suit, flashing Seokjin a smile. When you finally notice his braces, you give him a flick on his forearm, gesturing to the brackets on his teeth. Hoseok’s stance straightens at this, chest puffing out lightly before you both head off to do your warm-ups.

After your warm-ups with him, Hoseok barely got to talk to you during practice.

Your father has made you do a practice set with the newcomer. You win the grueling match with a tight score of 7-5, a set that lasted for an hour and has every one on the courts on edge. The afternoon training sessions had already ended halfway through your match and nearly all of the trainees present became spectators. Although Seokjin had won the first two games, you had managed to catch up, nerves wearing out. Seokjin was strong and agile but you outsmarted him, returning his shots to his forehand and tiring him out by making him run all over.

You were… for lack of a more appropriate word, exhausted. Every fiber of your muscle was on fire, you were sweating more than you did in a sauna, and you were gasping for breath after every game. At four all, you had completely lost track of scoring, fully depending on the umpire. Truthfully, you were doubtful that you could score a game against Seokjin, let alone beat him.

You had lost hope the moment your father told you to play a set with the Seokjin.  

You knew this set wasn’t only to see how Seokjin plays – his strengths and weaknesses but this match was also a critical point at your father’s reputation. There were plenty of people watching, more from those who were on their way home from their afternoon activities. If you would win, your father’s credibility could be strengthened, despite having just half of the strength Seokjin possesses. You didn’t even want to think about the consequences of losing.

Hoseok could see right through the façade you were putting up during the first games – you were anxious. You talked less, you barely smiled and if you did, it looked forced. The rest of the spectators looked just as intense as you and Seokjin: muted, save the resonating sound of the fuzzy ball hitting against the strings of the racket. Hoseok rummages through his bag and takes out his two iPads and clicks on the Notes applications. The umpire calls for a water break, the perfect opportunity. He holds both gadgets on his hands whooping and cheering for you.

‘If it were easy I would do it!’ ‘I stayed up all night doing this sign.’

Your cheeks are on fire, hiding your face with a towel from the embarrassment. The onlookers join in instantly, cheering under Hoseok’s lead. Your dad and Seokjin even laughs when Hoseok doesn’t leave Seokjin out, cheering him on as well. Hoseok smiles when he sees the same slowly etch into your anxious features. He’s supposed to leave now, his training over and all, but he decides to stay despite the missed call and text messages he’s been receiving from his driver and his mom. Before you both knew it, the set ends and some of the spectators go nearer and congratulate you.

Hoseok deems this as his time to take leave, handing his bags to his driver Adit. He takes another look at you who’s attending to all those who have come to you and Seokjin to commend the match. When the small crowd clears away, you’re left with just Seokjin. You have been looking for Hoseok when the match as you owe him a great deal of thanks. Your eyes drift left to right searching for the boy with the gleaming smile. That’s odd, since Hoseok never leaves without saying goodbye.

When Seokjin calls your name, your searching is momentarily stopped. “Hey, great game earlier.” You realize that the two of you have never talked when the match ended, so you shake his hand with an apologetic smile. “You gave me a hard time back there.” He laughs at this, muttering something about trying at the very least.

“I guess we’ll be seeing each other more often then?”

“Ye-oh!” You’re caught mid-sentence when you accidentally step on a stray ball. You feel your knee giving in but a pair of strong arms catch you. One hand initially lands on your breast but your savior immediately adjusts it down to your waist to help you get up.

Holy fuck!

You’re rendered speechless at what just transpired, shuffling your feet so you turn face to face with Seokjin. “I-I uhh…” You have lost absolutely all coherence and that carnal feeling that shoots through your core. You never had experience with a boy before, let alone have one grope you. Good god. You were royally fucked. It doesn’t help that Seokjin is also staring at you, eyes a lighter brown with the sunlight in his eyes. You gulp as your eyes travel to his neck…were men’s necks always this…delectable? He seems even hotter now that he’s drenched in sweat. ‘No!’ shouts the little voice at the back of your head, screaming at you for the past ten seconds, scolding at you for not getting ahold of yourself.

Your father coughs, breaking the tension-filled air instantaneously. He bids goodbye as he hands you your tennis bag. Your father doesn’t linger any longer, yet you know he’s expecting you to follow at once. Settling with a curt wave towards Seokjin, you jog after your dad who’s walking farther away.

[mbti-notes]

Hi. I have a question; it’s a bit long but please bear with me. It’s been hard to face but now I know that time has finally come to know the truth. I have a pattern of attracting people with serious life problems, who have lost direction and need some guidance and space to breathe and recharge. I solve their problems, I help them forget about troubles and relax for a moment. Some of them become a part of my life, my close friends. I catch feelings. [1/4]

[con’t: They start to feel better and see life in a more positive way after some time, usually half a year, and then leave me. It’s good for them but I feel very alone, I feel like people only care about me because of my skills and treat me just as a tool. I’m not someone special to them in the way that they are to me. They continue to tell me that we are friends but I sense that their heart has already changed. They see it as an obligation, it’s not their choice, not what they want. It’s not freedom. I too am human, despite being told otherwise numerous times in the childhood and me being ESTP, and sometimes I too need love and attention. I used to grab it and just enjoy myself but it destroys people and I can’t watch that. If I were NFJ, who are usually suited for that “guide” role, I would get satisfaction from helping people, as you do, from obligations of high Fe, but all I feel that way is loneliness and dullness. I am 25 and as I become older Fe need of a relationship becomes louder. I used to not care but now I can’t. What’s my problem with this people? What do I do wrong?]

From what I know, this is an unusual problem for ESTPs in the age bracket that you are referring to, but it is an all too common problem for young ENFJs. Trying to fix broken people is often how NFs run into relationship trouble and feel chronically dissatisfied. Therefore, I am obligated to ask whether you have undergone a proper type assessment. I can’t in good conscience proceed to give type-based suggestions without resolving this question to my satisfaction.

There are also problematic claims to address. We’re not talking about a one time relationship thing that could be chalked up to circumstance or accident; you are describing an unhealthy recurring pattern of decision making that always leaves you in the lurch. Recurring patterns run deep and require deep diving to sort out. 

You claim that you “attract” damaged people rather than taking responsibility for being drawn to them and engaging with them, which raises the question of why you always take on an implicitly submissive and self-victimizing role in your relationship life. 

You claim that you are not suited for the “guide” role in that you don’t get satisfaction from helping people, which raises the question of why you choose to do something you don’t benefit from in the first place.

You claim that people treat you as a tool, use you and abandon you, which raises the question of why you are always so very accommodating to play the role of the tool, seemingly willing to be used.

You claim that you, too, have needs and feelings that should be honored, yet every relationship decision you have made leads you away from your needs in the completely opposite direction, which raises the question of why you care so little for yourself and are so unskilled at self-care. 

You claim that this issue is hard to face and it’s time, which heavily implies that you sat on this problem for a long period and knowingly repeated the mistake, and why would you do that when, deep down, you knew the result and that it would harm you?

Confused judgment, self-deceptive rationales, blindly self-sacrificial behavior, no awareness of personal boundaries, and absolute ignorance of your own motivations is much more characteristic of INFERIOR Ti than auxiliary Ti.

Reflect: What is your true intention when you are helping these people? To your credit, it seems that you don’t enter with the intention to prowl for romance, since you claim that you “catch feelings” later on in the process. But that only leaves a giant question mark about what your intention really is. If your unconscious intention is to get something from them, then it’s no wonder that you feel empty afterwards, because you didn’t get what you wanted.

Type aside, “helping” tends to leave any person feeling empty when they don’t do it for the right reasons. Is it really “helping” when you place unspoken expectations on people (yet can’t fully admit to it)? And is it not somewhat exploitative to use people’s vulnerability as a means to fill an unacknowledged void in yourself? To “help” is to do something for someone else’s good. But when your intentions are impure, the “help” that you offer will be tainted and not turn out as you expect. Some people exhibit the recurring pattern of being drawn to damaged people because it allows them to, for example: maintain a safe emotional distance, feel a false sense of dominance or superiority, elevate themselves through nurturing the potential of another, compensate for personal failure through projecting one’s hopes onto another, cover up low self-worth or low self-esteem through martyrdom, etc. Whether there is a deeper issue at play is for you to reflect upon. There usually is, but only you are able to see the true face of the darkness inside. People repeat a negative pattern because they get something from it, something that they really don’t want to let go of, so what is that thing for you? Time to be more honest with yourself.

Healthy and deep relationships of the kind you seem to desire must be EQUAL. A very simple and elegant way to break this pattern and resolve it is to purposely seek out people on equal footing as you, people that challenge you rather than beg from you, and/or people that you believe are a good match for you rather than merely needing you.

[maree-ff]

And She Roars

[CAMILA]

“Andre, I don’t know about this.” I said suddenly. He paused his walk to give me this evil stare. 

“You’re worrying too much love, can you stop? Please?” Andre resumed his prance around the room hoping that Jorden will stay asleep as he moves. Every couple of days as of the last few weeks, Jorden has woken up from a nap, screaming bloody murder. His episodes wake up the entire house. The girls are both extremely agitated at this point time so the energy in the house has shifted all the way left. So Andre and I are finding new methods to make sure Jo gets the proper amount of rest just like the rest of us. 

Some of our friends have invited us out for the day being that we haven’t spent much time out of the house lately. I am the one whose more so been stuck here at home with the baby but that’s by choice. Since Jorden’s homecoming I haven’t cared enough to be social with anybody except for our family. To simply put my current feelings on staying home, I’m focused on taking it easy and being a good mother. 

I have not seen much of the outside world for a month and a half as of yesterday. Andre and Jessica both think I need to step away and regroup for at least a few hours but I strongly disagree. No amount of alone time compares to the minutes I spend with my babies. 

“Get dressed Cam, we’re supposed to meet everybody in an hour and you’re still sitting there in the same clothes you slept in. We’re going. Get up please.” Andre walked out of the room and looked over his shoulder once he touched the first step. “You better be  standing in front of that bed, dressed and ready to go when I hit this last step.” He warned. 

“Or what?” I challenged playfully. “What are you gonna do?” I laughed at how serious he looks holding our knee deep in sleep baby who is drooling on his daddy’s favorite shirt. 

“That ass is mine.” He pointed at me and disappeared from view altogether. Just as I heard Andre begin to speak at an inaudible volume to our baby I felt myself grow hungry. 

I can’t fight the urge to eat so I don’t have a choice but to wash up and put some clothes on. Taking into consideration that Jorden will be fed a number of times while we’re out, I searched for tops that I can easily alter. If I don’t have time to take off anything I need a blouse that can be unzipped or unbuttoned. 

“What to wear, what to wear..” I muttered to myself. Fumbling through my selection of blouses, sweatshirts, and button downs I pulled down a possible contender. This might work. Hurriedly I put one of my softer bras on and the sweater directly on top. Walking over to the mirror I buttoned up this top to where I like it, modeling for my own pleasure. I don’t remember the last time I even touched this sweater and I’m quite surprised at how complimenting it is to my skin tone. There is still room for me here is interesting too. It’s predominantly cognac colored body and cream buttons seems to be lifting my mood. This is a really pretty sweater and to think I’m just now putting it on. 

Finishing up in our closet I gathered all of my things and stood in front of the bed. When I saw Andre take that final step onto this level of the house with the baby and his bag I smiled. “The ass still belongs to me.” I said smartly. 

He walked into the room laughing quietly to himself. 

“What’s so funny, huh?” I questioned. Going around the bedroom I partially shut the blinds and re-made the bed. 

“You. You’re funny. Are you ready to go?” Together we left the house and we’re off to meet our friends. Jorden is still very much asleep leaving me the opportunity to talk to Dre. 

Turning the radio down I shifted in my seat watching him drive. To this very day I still question a few moments of our past. Like why did he really approach me at the bar? Did I look appealing to his eye from wherever he stood or sat? Was he bored and needed something to do? I still wonder what was his drive to get to know me. And even after the night we met he stuck around. Andre was there during times he didn’t have to be. 

“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” Andre freed one of his hands to push my some hair from my face. 

My head swiveled to the left to glance at Jorden’s car seat. I don’t see his feet moving meaning that he’s still asleep. “Just reminiscing about a few things. ‘S it weird that we have a baby now? Together? Personally I still feel surprised that I bore another human being and that he came from you. For so many years until you came along I was solid on not having more children. I was very much against it. Then you worked your magic on me little ol’ me and look where we are.” 

“Yeah I agree. I think it’s a blessing that I get to be apart of at least one of my kids lives at the start. I’ll never be able to take back my absence in Zoe’s youth. I’ll never be able to take Damon’s place as the reason you had Kenja. But I can make up for all of that with him. I feel like I’m getting a do over and I feel good about what this chapter is gonna bring us.” He explained. 

I grinned proudly at his response. “So I have something to confess and before you assume or freak out it’s not bad.” Pausing to catch his concerned eye I continued after I took a breath. “What am I supposed to do when Jo gets hungry?” 

Confused and chuckling airily Andre made a sudden turn. “That’s a trick question isn’t it?” 

“No Andre it’s not. I’m serious. What am I supposed to do?” I reiterated hearing slight movement from the backseat. 

“Uh...you feed him. Why would you even ask me that?” He quizzed again still not seeing where I’m coming from with my concern. 

“This is the first time he’ll be taken out of the house except for his checkup a few weeks ago. I’m scared to feed him in public.” Shifting back around to face the windshield I clasped my hands in my lap. 

“Oh, oh I get it. I get it now. Look baby, you don’t have to worry. It doesn’t matter where we are or who we’re with, if Jo gets hungry you do what you need to.” Andre says simply as if publicly shaming mothers for breastfeeding isn’t a real issue. This is a global issue for all mothers. Everyone knows the science of how babies are made and what they need to survive for at least the first year of life, etc. The problem boils down to some random idiot feeling offended by seeing a mom feed her baby. 

“Dre, you’re seriously missing the point. I’m scared to feed him in public because I don’t want to be shamed or judged for doing my diligence as a new mom. I don’t want to be forced to leave any establishment or go hide somewhere just to feed my baby. Not to forget that we’ll be with our friends and the last thing I want is to make any of them uncomfortable if some shit starts because of me.”  I rest my case for the time being. I expressed my feelings and my fears but I’m praying for a smooth and fun outing. 

[AUTHOR]

Stepping out of the car Camila looped her purse over her shoulder and closed the car door. Taking a step back she pulled on the handle to grab the baby from the backseat. She got the belts unbuckled and was onto picking up the car seat until Andre took over. She sighed and allowed him to finish what he started. 

She studied the parking lot spotting a couple of familiar vehicles that belong to her friends. 

“Are you still worried? Was it I who upset you?” Andre asked. He stood tall and switched their positions keeping Camila and the baby closest to the car. 

“I never said you upset me and yes, I’m still worried. We are the only couple in our circle of friends who are parents. They won’t understand. Although they’re all great people I don’t want them to feel obligated to stick up for me.” Biting her lip Camila looks around to check out the scenery again. 

“Look at me,” Andre held her by the shoulders, softening up his grip every few seconds. The pair exchanged pleading looks of concern over the subject at hand. “I understand where you’re coming from and I’m sorry that you feel this way. Regardless of how this goes, I want you to remember that you deserve this. After the year you’ve had, I want you..I encourage you to enjoy being around friends. You put yourself on the back burner most of the time so just for once take it easy. Can you do that for me? If not for me then for him.” His sweet bargain lifted some heavy weight from her heart and mind. 

Camila vowed to her man and herself that she would indeed attempt to see the bright side of their outing. When they touched down in the restaurant Andre spotted his one of his closest friends, Tariq. Pushing the stroller, Andre escorted Camila over to the long table that their friends had reserved. 

“Well look at this, a sight I have been dying to see.” Tariq chuckled warmly. He stood up and walked over to Andre, gripping his hand. hugged, separated and briefly chopped it up. 

Tariq’s girlfriend appeared from the restroom along with some of the other women who were apart of the group. “Camila, you look damn good. And to think you had a baby in there almost two months ago. How are you?” She smiled, wrapping her arms around her friend. 

“I’m good. Tired most of the time but I swear I’m not complaining. How have you all been?” Camila and the ladies began chatting up a storm and making up for lost time while the men did the same. Everyone was still talking as the couples sat next to their significant others. The warm atmosphere settled the remaining bit of Camila’s nerves and replaced her anxiety with happiness. Even without saying it aloud, she can’t deny how great it is to be amongst people in her age bracket. She’s going to have to thank her man later on for convincing her to get out of the house. 

“Two young children and a newborn? How does it feel to be parents to three?” Tatia asked, eyes shifting between Andre and Camila. 

Exhaling through her nose, Camila sat back against her chair and crossed one leg over the other. She nudged Dre inspiring him to answer. 

“Having three kids in the house only feels different when trying to entertain them all at once. It’s not too hard though. The girls love being involved as much as they can. Whether they’re helping bathe him, read to him, play with him and so on. You name it and his sisters are right there learning as much as they can absorb at one time.” Andre explained as two servers approached the table. 

Both servers took the groups drink orders and left. 

“So, Cam I have to ask you something but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Scooting closer to the table Jhessi leaned into her fist waiting to see if Camila would take the bait. 

“What is it?” Camila smirked. “What do you want to know?” 

“Is the sex better when you’re pregnant? I’ve heard tons of stories from previously pregnant women and they all say the same thing.” The ladies snickered in unison while their mates looked slightly uncomfortable yet curious to know. 

Peering into Jorden’s car seat to check on him Camila was happy to see that he’s awake. Instantly she thought of the perfect response. “We have three kids for a reason.” She stated with pride. Although she and Andre know the true breakdown of her words, the fact remains true. Their sex was amazing while she was pregnant. It always has been but the feeling of euphoria was amplified during this past year.  

“Enough said.” Jhessi smiles with satisfaction at the answer she received. 

“Anywho..how’s your brother doing, man? I tried reaching out but I haven’t heard back from him.” Sean, Andre and the guys began discussing all topics sports, work, and the do’s and don'ts they’ve picked up in relationships. The women spoke on health, kids, lifestyle and beauty. The conversations were flowing all throughout the group. 

The servers returned with the drinks and began taking meal orders. Just then the baby started fussing not realizing how loud he was being. The others continued on with getting their orders straight while Andre helped Camila prepare for baby Jorden’s first feeding. 

“You brought his blanket didn’t you?” Camila frantically questioned. She hugged her baby close seeming to calm him a tad as Dre searches through his diaper bag. He found the blanket printed with cute zoo animals and gracefully draped it over Camila’s shoulder. She caught the eye of the young male server and froze. 

“Cam, what are you doing?” Andre rubbed her arm noticing she seemed frightened to carry on with feeding their distraught son. “Babe..feed him before he gets really upset.” He advised strongly yet respectfully. 

Camila’s eyesight bounced between the waiter and her man for several minutes. The nerves took over her entire body and instead of expressing what’s going on in her head, she wants to flee. Getting everything prepped, Camila connected the bag to her shoulder and rose up from her chair. 

“What are you doing?” Dre whispered, standing up just as fast. 

“I can’t do this out here. I need to leave.” She panicked quietly. To avoid anymore attention Camila took one step around her fiancée only to be stopped. 

Andre spoke discreetly in her ear, encouraging her to sit back down. He pushed aside his need for food to help Camila feel a little more comfortable about staying put to feed their son. As the server battled in his own mind what to do next, the couples’ friends spoke on their behalf. 

“We need a little more time. Give us ten more minutes please.” Tati said to the waiter. He nodded surely and tended to the rest of his section. 

“He’s gone, Camila. You don’t have to feel afraid anymore.” Sean jumped in. 

Camila and Andre both turned their heads to rejoin the group in a new discussion. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about anyone of these people in there. We understand. Feed your baby.” Jhessi and her man both showcased smiles in solidarity. 

“I just don’t want that guy to come back and say something.” Andre removed the bag from Cam’s shoulder and held onto the blanket momentarily. 

“He can eat a dick. You don’t owe any of us or the people who work here an explanation. Do what you have to. We got you. All three of you.” Tariq and Tiffany spoke simultaneously. 

Camila took one final look at her baby and couldn’t deny his demand for milk any longer. She got set up with Andre holding the blanket up to aid in her privacy. For a minute she struggled to get Jorden to latch on. When she sat back and relaxed, so did the baby. His eyes closed the second he got his first taste of milk since this morning. Taking a noticeably loud breath in and out Camila gathered her hair in one hand and tossed it behind her back. 

“Is he okay?” Andre tucked the blanket into the back of Camila’s sweater and fixed her earring. 

“He’s okay. Scratching me to death but he’s okay. Thank you.” She smiled feebly. 

Nodding and matching her smile Andre kissed the only hand she had free to move around. 

“Any advice for someone who might be trying to start a family?” Deon cleared his throat, picking up his glass. 

Andre tilted his head sideways, shocked at what he heard. “Y’all trying? He asked. 

Exchanging looks Deon and Ryan sipped their beverages. 

“What?” Andre gasped in surprise. “You’re serious? You want to be a dad? I thought kids were a deal breaker for you.”

Shrugging, Deon avoided making eye contact with anyone in the group. Ryan chose to plead her case despite the blush in her cheeks. “We’ve been talking about it but we haven’t come to a consensus on whether or not we really want to start a family or not. That’s why we were hopeful you two would be here to eat with us. We want some advice.” 

Relaxing a bit more, Camila cuddled the baby closely. 

“Go ahead. Be honest.” She nudged Andre’s arm to speak. 

“It’s an adventure. Nothing short of it. As far as advice and tips go...make sure you both want to be parents before there’s a baby. I can’t speak for Cam on what it’s like but what I can say is, being a dad is the most rewarding feeling I’ve ever experienced. There’s nothing better than having a small version of you and your lady molded into one human. They look up to for every single thing and that has its challenges alone but still, being a parent is pretty damn amazing.” Andre cheesed with pride just speaking of his children. 

“Being pregnant is unique for every woman. What I experienced and felt carrying Jorden is different than the next mother’s pregnancy. There are plenty of pros and cons but the final phase of the journey is life changing.” Cam added. 

The waitress returned alone this time ready to take on the missing food orders. Once she had verified what everyone wanted and promised to return as soon as possible. 

“How old y’all think she is?” Sean said. 

Everybody read each other’s facial expressions trying to come up with a unified answer. 

“My guess is late twenties.” Camila assumes first, rocking gently from side to side. 

“Nah I say she’s still in school. Maybe her second year in college.” This go round Tariq noticed the male server from across the room. “I swear if he has anything negative to say I’m gonna have some words for his ass.” 

Tiffany and the other women searched the restaurant not seeing the waiter. “Calm down Riq it’s not that serious. We don’t need to draw any attention to us just because that kid has a staring problem.”

“Exactly. Everyone just leave this and him alone.” Camila huffed. 

“Well...I think I can help clear down some of this frustration from the air. I want to make a toast.” Rising to his feet Sean held his empty beer bottle in the air earning a hearty laugh from his friends and the women. 

“Don’t you need at least a half full bottle or partially full to make this toast count?” Jhessi chuckled.

“Hush ya mouth girl and let me speak.” Pointing to Jhessi with a butter knife Sean dusted off his shoulder earning more laughs. 

“These friends of yours are something else.” Camila giggles, checking on Jorden once more. 

“I love these idiots. Is he still eating?” Andre scooted closer to his girl wanting to see their son in action. Nodding, Camila spread the blanket out exposing Jorden a tad more. “Aw if only we could trade places.” Andre’s cheeky smile earned him a teasing slap to the head. 

“Stop it. I don’t need any ideas put out there for anyone’s imagination to run wild.” Ending their sidebar, Camila and Andre partook in the ongoing toast. “So what are we roasting to, Sean?” She presumed. 

“Well I’m glad you asked. This toast goes to every single one of us for making it as far as we have. This goes to our friendships lasting this long and as far as God sees fit.” He paused to make direct eye contact with the guys. “Also, I want to make a celebratory toast to my man and his lady on their new addition to their family. I, as I’m sure the rest of us, will honor your family as our own. We will take care of and protect your kids as if they were ours when you are and aren’t present. He’s beautiful and I’m happy that his birthday was a success.” 

Everyone held their drinks up and unanimously agreed to the words Sean spoke. 

———— ———-

Waving her napkin in the air Camila turned away from the group not able to finish the last of her food. She’s too busy laughing her heart away at the awfully sexual joke the Tariq told. The reason she’s finding it so humiliating and humorous is because she and Andre have a personal connection to the filthy jest. 

Patting the back of his sleeping baby Andre swayed in a rhythmic manner, laughing just as hard but quietly. The entire group is weak at the knees and the elephant in the room just grew three sizes. 

Jorden suddenly erupted in tears causing a slight shift in mood at the table. Camila gathered herself and while still laughing she coddled her baby trying to decode why he’s upset. She grabbed his backpack and headed to the women’s restroom to change him. 

Back out on the main floor the adults ordered another round of drinks and food. The women placed a wage that each man could not order a meal they’ve never had and finish it entirely. Disagreeing with the statement the guys placed a double bet that their counterparts could not order a strong drink and finish it without complaining. 

Camila took care of her own bathroom needs, washed her hands and returned to her seat. She tried leaving Jorden in his car seat to get some more sleep but each time she back would away he cried. Rather than further agitating her baby she opted to rock him to sleep. Her efforts to sway him into another nap turned into another feeding session. The waitress arrived with the food and drinks and passed each person their correct order. 

“Cam, Dre mentioned that you only eat plants now. That true?” Deon quizzed, rounding up his fork with pasta. Ryan made him order this pesto pasta filled with a mix of vegetables. She purposely chose this dish due to the amount of veggies incorporated. Deon hates eating healthy so this bet will be a challenge for him. 

Everyone anxiously awaited for Deon’s reaction surprised that he likes the pasta. 

“This is actually pretty damn good.” Deon have his girlfriend a thumbs up and earned a pat on the back for stepping out of his comfort zone. 

“That’s true. I stopped eating meat shortly after I found out I was pregnant and I still can’t stand it. The smell of it used to give me the worst nausea but now I stay away from it and most of what I used to eat. For his benefit and mine.” Camila clarifies. 

“Does that help with the quality and quantity of your breast milk? That’s not too personal is it?” Ryan frantically looked around afraid that she had overstepped her boundaries a little. 

“No it’s fine. My change in diet definitely helps with both the taste and how much milk I pro-” in mid sentence Camila locked eyes with the server and the general manager. She has no idea that her waiter is getting the wrath of a lifetime from his boss about her current activity. Her once relaxed smile transformed into a hard expression that bothered Andre. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, stroking her arm. 

Camila looked down under the blanket determined to pause her son’s meal. He didn’t initially seem bothered by the cut in milk supply but once his mother fixed her clothes and left the table, he was pissed. 

“Where is she going?” 

“Did she see something that we didn’t?” The group had all sorts of questions watching from afar as Camila started a conversation with the waiter. 

[CAMILA]

“I really don’t mean to come off like a bitch but for the love of God..stop staring at me. You’re bothering me and it’s extremely rude. What’s your problem?” I’ve tried so hard to keep my mouth closed but I’m at my breaking point. It’s not just the waiter who’s my problem anymore but it’s his boss too. 

His eyes shifted from my face and assuming the table. Or more so, Andre. 

“Excuse me but I need you to look at me when I’m talking.” I demanded gaining his focus again. “You,” I pointed to the younger guy. “You have been staring at me feed my child on and off and I’m not okay with that. And you,” now looking at the manager. “I can see you talking what I assume is about me from across the room. But instead you being professional and man enough to address me directly you talk to your employees instead. Where do you get off?” 

“Ma’am, you really need to calm down ok? No one was talking about you. I ju-”

“You just what? You what?” I breathed. 

“I think it’s inappropriate for you to be doing that in front of my customers. That’s all. We have a very nice bathroom that you and all of the other mothers can go to take care of any personal needs.” The sheer disgust on this mans face as he’s talking took me to level I’ve never been on before.

Not only am I infuriated for myself but for my newborn son who is completely defenseless. 

“Fuck you. Fuck you.” I made sure to pronounce every syllable so he could catch the attitude dripping off of me. “You’re a disgusting excuse for a manager, a man and a human being for trying to shame and humiliate me for doing my due diligence as a mother. My baby can’t help when he gets hungry and as his mother it’s my job to make sure he gets whatever he needs right away. So fuck you again and fuck your “very nice bathroom”. I’ll be damned if I force my baby to wait so I can go and hide from the world before he gets to eat. If I catch you talking about me one more time without coming to me up front I will ruin your day and you can count on that.” 

Not having anymore to say I turned around to go back to my family and friends. 

“Maybe if you had more self respect for you and your little baby not to whip your tit-”

I believe the devil himself took over my body as I felt myself spin around on my heels, walk over to this guy and backhand the hell out of him. It’s funny because it’s like God was guiding my brain to strike him with my right hand instead of my left. I wouldn’t dare cause damage to my ring on someone like this. He laid out clutching his cheek and spitting blood onto the floor in silence. 

“That’s for my son. Don’t ever disrespect me or any mother you come into contact with ever again. You people who sexualize what is completely innocent and natural is part of the problem in today’s society. A mother breastfeeding her baby is vital and you of all people should know that. After all you did come from a woman. But then again the devil might have created you instead.” Popping my wrist back into place I straightened out my sweater taking a glance at the waiter. 

He was staring into space with wide eyes and trembling hands. 

“Stay away from me or next time you won’t see the light of day again. That’s a threat and a promise. Your mom should’ve swallowed you, stupid bitch.” Walking away for good and back to my table I only heard the sound of me walking. Everyone was dead silent as I took Jo away from his father and placed him back in his stroller. No one, not even Dre, knew what to say while I rounded up the keys to his car and my bag. Not another word came from me as I peacefully left the building to go finish what I started. 

——-- ——--

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” He asked closing my door. 

Moving around him to get Jorden from the backseat I disagreed with the shake of my head. I’m not in a pleasant mood. Nobody I love is the problem. I'm just a tad embarrassed that stupid guy was pointing at me and saying god knows what to that server. Leaving the door open since I can’t slam it I went up to the front door and let myself in. My shoes came off and then I headed down to our bedroom. 

I really need a minute to calm down but I feel gross and the shower is calling out to me. After I rounded up some clothes to cover my entire body with I locked us in the bathroom. Jo and I were inside for over an hour. He had fallen asleep after I resumed his feeding from earlier granting me some kind of alone time. Feeling only a smidge better I wiped my hand across the glass to clear away the fog. As I stared at myself I reflected on earlier thinking of what my mom would say if she was here. 

My gut says that she would be proud that I stood up me and my baby. My gut also says that she would be disappointed in the way that I carried myself. I wasn’t raised to be violent but that man brought another side of me I never knew I had. Looking over my right shoulder I slouched forward and smiled weakly at how cute my baby is. Every minute of discomfort during my pregnancy and the pain of giving birth was more than worth it. Having my mom fly all the way in from Texas just to help me out while Andre was gone means the world to me. She was blessed with the opportunity to bond with her grandson from inside of me and I’m grateful for that. 

Just then he started wiggling around and scrunching up his face. His tiny lips were forming odd shapes as he made little spit bubbles. Selfishly I’m enjoying the show Jorden is putting on for me rubbing his face and poking himself in the eyes, nose, and lastly sucking on his fingers. 

“You will always be worth the fight my sweet boy. You and your sisters will forever be the reason I live and breathe.” 

Seeing the bathroom door open up and Andre walk through appearing upset, upset me. 

“You okay?” He asked me. 

Shrugging I tied my hair up out of my face. It’s time to get Jorden out of this car seat for the night. He’s been back and forth inside of it all day and I know he’s tired of feeling confined. “I’m a mix between embarrassed and pissed off.” Hugging Jo close to my chest I began taking off his top layer of clothes. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you and everyone else. I can’t say that I didn’t intend to cause a scene because I knew very well what I was doing. That doesn’t change the facts by any means.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself and our baby. Although I wish our day went a lot smoother you don’t need to apologize to anyone, including me. You do not owe anyone an explanation. I’m sorry for how that guy spoke to you and for whatever he said. Don’t tell me because it’ll only make me mad that I can’t ruin his day more than you already have.” 

The rest of the evening I plan on spending time with my babies and their dad. Surrounding myself with my family will guarantee a change of heart and my spirit. The world will know my name and what I fight for if I ever get shamed for my responsibilities as a mother again. 

[oswednesday]

some deepest lore

 their names wouldnt all be in english but You get it, you get whats going on here, my sona is the oldest but theyre all like the sameish decade bracket like any fck’d up religious family:

okay so there’s thursday who is of the buried and was def a part of the buried ritual, they/he, they managed to get out with some serious damage, most of his body is made of clay now, he still operates in the states, so he goes after his interest in earth sciences like geology rock growth but the pressure from the family causes him to turn directions and he ends up doing accounting business major stuff gets into doing loans specifically for student, his abilities are like applied pressure he can make something feel so dire like he could be like “give me that thing you’re holding” and you’ll feel like the weight of every possible consequence will come down on you, personality wise he’s probs kind of whiny like demanding and needy quick to throw ultimatums

friday i think would also still be in the states she works as like a bioethics doctor like she tells people to pull the plug on their loved ones in a coma and talks them down from life saving treatments due to Costs and Complications, she has a brittle matter of fact personality and hates Excessive noises, like the sounds of people breathing, her abilities like pull the grief out of people so the patients just rapidly deteriorate as the family or whoever refuses treatments, she usually picks someone young patients when she can and leaves a loved one or two out of her control for maximum impact to the nurses and the families

saturday belongs to the lightless flame, she’s in school to be a lawyer at like an ivy league school, she like belongs to a sorority of desolation devotees but she lives in the freshman dorms as an ra where she likes to report basically everything like if you even think of; sneaking a beer or a cigarette into you room save nothing of prescription meds or weed-- it is On Sight, your life is over age 18 she’ll make sure, she’s exceptionally joyless for a member of the desolation, preferring to start fights with like everyone over anything, a stray look? a tone she doesn’t like, her hands are ON you, it’s nice to have like someone like that around so the older members clean up her messes and shield her from consequences, her abilities havnt manifested into contact flames yet, but she makes any room she walks into stiflingly stuffy and is paranormally adept at making people snap at her and start the fight first, which of course gets them expelled and not her, despite being with the desolation she’s still involved with the family and will blow up her other siblings phones with family drama that most of them want no part of

sunday belongs to the hunt, he ran away as best he could in his teens and ended up with like a street dog gang, they end up ripping up homeless people and people who walk at night, squatting in those apartments that crop up meant for businesses that never move in; like those empty high end investment buildings that happen in america, the gang views what they do as cleaning up the streets, he’s very adamant about keeping the streets clean and he moreso than some of them , who get more caught up in hunt pack turf wars,he will chase down a vampire and other such Monsters in his spare time, he def views his birth family as monsters and would Not hesitate, he’s a Gun Enthusiast and whatever he has on him always manages to have a bullet in it, he’s obliviously self centered and completely not self reflective dogmatically,hes the youngest of the group

monday is of the dark, he/she/xey, he was blinded like while sunday was still living with them, it’s saturday who does it and she hasn’t been able to manifest flames like that again, but it had been like mutual rough housing), xey were the closest in the family to actually being what they wanted, like a devoted follower of the ceaseless watcher even after the accident xey still retained some of xeir abilities but like if someone put them on a dimmer, there’s a very dramatic stronghold storming and she gets kidnapped by an american branch of the people’s church, he’s like 15 at the time, (i think it’s a big deal that powers are a Thing for adults that’s so seldom a thing in media, so monday was like a child prodigy like completely atypical) and gets raised the rest of the way up under the dark who wins out his devotion, her powers wax and wane with the moon, when its close to being new she can turn into darkness like a shadow person and creep about unseen in the dark, when it’s full they’re aware of Knowledge of the dark, books that are manifestation of the dark, objects of dark power, people marked who would otherwise fall under the watchers gaze and they can snatch them away, they’re not at the ritual sight, their purpose is to be keeper of dark knowledge, other kidnapped marked people who can handle it end up as like library assistants and since the failed ritual they’ve been spreading the dark news through reading mail orders the kind that just turn up mysteriously to your house like a magazine you never subscribed to, they have an easy going personality all things considered, monday gets excited easily and can always find ways to entertain herself, she enjoys alone time so she might creep in the dark to avoid anyone but likes to sit and be by others when doing anything and is quick to seek like opinions and feedback, xey live in greenland

tuesday also ran away in his teens, unlike sunday, it’s pretty normal, he kept his grades good but not Too good so skirted being too noticed in either direction and had formed a friendship with a set of kids that got out before him, with their help and like an outside support network, he’s been working and living with groups of people with no real direction in a way that never really bothered him to much, he transitions into avatardom kinda, seemlessly, like he just goes to work, comes home, keeps going to work, becomes the work, he’s the manager of an All American fast food franchise, like the fundamental concept of that, a place you’ve never heard of pops up and accepts your application, workers at it just fuse with the friers and people who eat at it end up becoming the ingredients, there are other cogs in the meat machine, he makes sure every place is running smoothly like book balancing and all that practical boring stuff, it’s a living, this happens a bit after the flesh ritual fails, like he’s the second youngest of the group, he has a real checked out burnt out personality

[harrisonstories]

Pattie Boyd and George Harrison - assumed to be from their honeymoon in Barbados (1966)

NOTE: This is the “Something in the Way She Moved” interview Ken Sharp did with Pattie Boyd in 2007. I’ve posted a couple of quotes before and wanted to share the whole thing for Pattie’s birthday. Originally this interview was available through Goldmine magazine, but it seems they’ve changed their website recently, so I used the version from Record Collector . Unfortunately they slightly edited parts of the interview, so what I’ve done is add in as much as I could find from the Goldmine version in brackets. Anyway, hope you enjoy and Happy Belated Birthday Pattie!

Share your memories of first meeting the Beatles on the set of A Hard Day’s Night...

I was working as a model and my agent called me one day to tell me that there was a casting audition to go to. When I arrived there I recognized the director because I’d done some TV commercials with him. Then I went home afterwards and I heard from my agent that I got a part in a Beatles film, which was A Hard Day’s Night. I was a bit stunned by this. I had no desire or ambition to be an actress. They said, “Oh don’t worry, it’s just a walk on part.”

In the film I had to be a schoolgirl. So I turned up at the appointed place, a train station, caught the train and then a little way out of Paddington Station the train stopped. I looked out and saw these four very recognizable people were standing on a platform. It was The Beatles. There was nobody else there. They jumped onto the train, came into our carriage and introduced themselves as if we didn’t know who they were (laughs). They were so charming. We shook their hands, then they went off and filming began. I just thought George was so unbelievably good looking and adorable. They were all so funny and humorous, and seemed to be mucking about all of the time. George and I just hit it off.

I don’t know whether it was by design or deliberation but we ended up sitting next to each other for lunch. I remember feeling so silly because I was still dressed in a stupid schoolgirl uniform. We were both really shy but we enjoyed sitting next to each other and talking a bit.

At the end of the day, the train was headed back to London and George looked at me and said, “Will you marry me?” Because they’d all been so amusing and funny throughout the day I just laughed as if he were joking. Then he said, “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?” I said, “Well, actually I’m going out with my boyfriend (Eric Swayne), but you can come along too.” He said, “No, that wasn’t the idea at all.”

What were the qualities about George that made you realize he was the one for you?

I think it was his absolute charm and endearment. [He was very endearing. He was very easy to be with. He was very soft and lovely.] He seemed to really love my family and got on very well with all my brothers and sisters. He was just eternally sweet to everybody.  When we first started going out together he was very quiet. As time went on he gained more confidence. And then there were times it was difficult to stop him from talking.

Did you get a chance to visit many Beatle recording sessions?

No, because really and truly we weren’t really allowed to. We weren’t encouraged to go to the studio. I remember once going through the studio to meet George Martin; I think they might have been doing recording with Mary Hopkin. But I never saw a Beatles recording session. When Yoko came on the scene, she was allowed to but otherwise none of the wives were. It was far better that there were no distractions from us. I mean, girls can be distracting, let’s face it. They wanted to totally focus on their work.

Bring us back to the first time you saw The Beatles in concert.

I saw them for the first time when they played at the Hammersmith Odeon London in 1964. George and I had met and it seemed this show must have happened a few months after that. I was given a few seats right near the front. The audience was screaming all of the time. To me, that was odd, because I didn’t realize that was what happened during their shows. The noise was huge, but the Beatles’ performance was really great.

Was it a different George onstage than off?

Absolutely. He was himself in his professional role of being a musician. Whereas I just knew him as my boyfriend, someone who was great to hang out with, loved my family and really enjoyed to hang out with my friends. So this was very clearly another role that I didn’t really recognize him in. 

[Did he feel more comfortable off stage?]

[Yes], I always felt he was never very comfortable onstage. I think it made him nervous. He was much more comfortable being in the company of friends and family and people that he loved.

Through the years, George expressed how he grew tired of Beatlemania fairly early on in the band’s career.

After he and I met, we would have such a great time together. I don’t want to be boastful about it but I think he really preferred hanging out with me and actually enjoying life. Touring got in the way and he didn’t really enjoy it. He didn’t really see the point of touring because just as soon as they walked toward the stage the people would start screaming so loudly. When they started playing the screaming got even louder to the point where nobody possibly could have heard anything. He saw it all as a bit of a waste of time.

But when you watch The Beatles film showing them performing at Shea Stadium, it does seem like they’re having a blast.

Yeah. With Shea Stadium, of course, that was one of their big conquests in America. I remember George saying he couldn’t believe how enormous it was and how many people were there. He was overawed by that [and did enjoy playing that show]. 

You write in your book that The Beatles were “fearful” of their fans.

Obviously they couldn’t exist without their fans but their fans followed them everywhere they went. Before we had a gate put up outside of our house in Esher, fans would come to the house all the time. On a couple of occasions some of my things were stolen. Depending on his mood, more often than not if fans came to the door he would shoo them away. But if he was in a good mood and they were nice people he would be charming, sign autographs and have a few words with them. But it was an intrusion. He’d rather be getting on with his life than dealing with that.

Unlike many groups of today, there was a real bond of friendship and camaraderie among the Beatles.

[The Beatles were very close and tight and would hang out together.] They all grew up in the same area of Liverpool. Automatically when you grow up with somebody from the same sort of background and experiences, you have a bond. At a very young age they were sent to Germany to work in Hamburg for [very], very long hours, little sleep and little money. They took loads of pills to keep them up all night. That unites people. [It’s very bonding.] Their language to each other was so fast, almost encoded. It was almost a secret language. They were very tight, [very tight].

In the book you state that “The Beatles lived an unreal life and never had to grow up”.

Everything was always taken care of for them. I think they realized they had to start growing up when Brian Epstein died. He was a father figure for them. He enjoyed looking after them and taking care of all their needs. He would anticipate what they would like, when they’d like to go on holidays. Brian taught them the niceties of life, introduced them to fine wines, to London and Theatre.

When he died there was a period where they felt lost but then I think after that they gained their feet and realized they had to take control of their lives. The boys had to disappear and put on long trousers.

After Beatles played their last show in San Francisco, George said that now he was no longer a Beatle. Did he express his relief that their touring days were over?

Yes, he was very happy he didn’t have to go on tour anymore. He really didn’t like it. He was happy that they’d now be able to solely concentrate on working in the studio, which he preferred. That’s where he was happiest.

Did he ever express his frustration about getting his songs recorded?

Yes, George was in a difficult position. In any three-way partnership there’s always going to be one person who feels left out. Ringo didn’t really come into the equation; he was mainly a drummer, not a songwriter. John and Paul wrote most of the songs and I know George felt frustrated that he wasn’t contributing as much as he felt he could and should.

With the magnificent love song Something, he proved himself on par with John Lennon and Paul McCartney.

I don’t think George knew it was a great song, but it was clearly a very beautiful song he’d written and he was very happy that it was going to be a single. He was thrilled.

Knowing it was written about you, how did that make you feel?

Oh, I thought it was the sweetest thing he could have done. I loved it. It’s a wonderful song.

There’s a funny story in your book about your cleaner, Margaret.

Margaret was so funny. She was almost like an older sister/mother figure for George and I. She was a bit radical as well. Whenever John came over she would ask him, “Oh John, can you give me one of those lovely pills?” They were uppers. I always knew when she got one from John (laughs) because she’d suddenly start vacuuming like mad and dusting everywhere. (laughs)

Bring us back to the dinner party where the dentist John Riley secretly dosed you, George, John and Cynthia with LSD.

At about nine or 10 o’clock at night we were dosed. We were furious! I thought I’d be like this for the rest of my life (laughing) and maybe I am. That trip lasted about eight hours. It was terribly surreal. People started looking like animals and they would grow 10 times their height. It was like being in a movie where things come in and out at you.

How did acid change George?

I think it affected him in a positive way. He enjoyed the mind expansion part of it, but then he grew out of it and didn’t want to do it anymore.

You were the one who pointed the way toward transcendental meditation.

I think they were on tour somewhere and a friend of mine, Marie-Lise, saw a little ad about learning how to meditate. We went to London and took these lessons in transcendental mediation. We had our mantra and now we were off meditating. When George came back I told him about it. Shortly after that I think it was Paul who suggested we all go see a lecture in London being done by the Maharishi. I was thrilled because it was his form of meditation that I’d been studying.

The Maharishi couldn’t figure out why suddenly after he’d been coming to England for years doing his lectures that all the press were there. He couldn’t think what had happened because he’d never heard of The Beatles. He quickly realized that The Beatles were important people. So he invited us all to go to Wales where he could teach us privately about meditation.

Ironically, it was in Wales where the Beatles heard that their manager, Brian Epstein had died.

Strangely enough, isn’t life so amazing that Brian would die at a time that they would all learn spirituality from the Maharishi? It was like they were replacing a father figure with a spiritual father figure in a way. That’s how I saw it. It was the saddest day. All of them were just ashen with shock with the news of Brian dying. The Maharishi helped them cope with it. At least we all had the comfort of him to help us deal with our grief.

What are your memories of the trip to India to study with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi?

It was very nice to be a part of that enclosed life. There were probably about 80 people living there. George was very serious about meditation, as was John. But Paul and Ringo not so much. Ringo had a bad time there, especially with Maureen because she couldn’t stand flies. But for us, every day was glorious. There was nothing nicer than being in a very nice and calm environment.

John, Paul and George would play the guitar and write songs. It was absolutely the most lovely atmosphere. We’d meditate for hours on end. The food was delicious. It was lovely to go down to the Ganges when it started getting warmer. It was just a very nice time.

When George returned from India, there was a change in his personality.

Yes, he became more serious. After he returned from India the reality for George and the rest of The Beatles was that they now had to be businessmen and handle everything to do with The Beatles’ slowly growing empire. With Apple, they had to find business partners and then they were all arguing over who should handle them. From being musicians they had to wear the hat of being businessmen as well, and intrinsically that’s not in their nature. They’re artists. They’re creators.

George didn’t like to have to make these business decisions and play that kind of role. So then he started staying in the office or in the studio quite a lot and recording various artists like Billy Preston, Doris Troy and Jackie Lomax. After a few years, George and I grew apart. He wanted to hang onto his spirituality. He started chanting a lot. I think he was desperately trying to reach a nice calm space in his head. On top of everything else The Beatles all started arguing with each other on creative levels as well.

During the recording of Let It Be, George left the Beatles. What did he share with you about his disenchantment?

He came home and told me how he’d left the band. He was in a really bad mood. He said the vibes were so ghastly and that The Beatles were going to split up. I think in a way it was a slow breakup. They all saw it as divorcing each other. Gradually they all let go of being in the band. It was too difficult to sustain.

[Discuss the duality of George. ] On one hand, George was a seeker of enlightenment and spirituality, but on the other he was having affairs on the side.

[George was a human being.] He was human, terribly good looking and very famous. He had his ups and down. Temptations were thrown at him continually. If you’re gonna decide that you’re gonna be a priest it’s very difficult. I think George was far more aware than other people of the continual battle of one’s demons. [We all have demons inside of us. We’re all full of black and white.] He struggled with it. He always wanted to be a good man and do the right thing.

It was surprising to read in your book that George had an affair with Ringo’s wife. How did Ringo react?

Obviously, Ringo was seriously pissed off. But I don’t know whether his anger was directed more to Maureen than to George. Remember, I was going through my own hell at the time. I wasn’t really noting everyone’s pain and anguish. I was going through my own struggles.

Bring us back to when you and George visited Frank Sinatra for the My Way recording session.

We were in LA. I think George was finishing an album. Then we got a message that Frank Sinatra invited us to a recording session. So we turned up with Mal Evans and we were led into the control room. From there we could look through the glass panel and see this very large studio with a full orchestra. Then Frank walked into the studio and I was riveted. Here’s the famous Frank Sinatra. He took the mic and he sang My Way. He was absolutely stunning. All of us in the control room were silenced. Then Frank came into the control room, heard it back again and said, “That’s it!” He did it in one take. Then he said, “Let’s all go out for dinner.”

All these limos appeared and we all went to some restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. There was this huge table and everybody sat down. George and I tried to sit next to Frank but his best friends had to sit next to him, so we were shoved down the table (laughs). George and Frank had a good conversation in the control room and spoke at dinner as well. I think Frank was probably quite curious and wanted to hear about The Beatles.

In 1972, you and George met another legend, Elvis Presley, backstage at Madison Square Garden.

George had total respect for Elvis, he loved him. We were sitting in the audience; suddenly someone came up and said, “Elvis wants to meet you.” We obeyed like little lambs and went down into his dressing room. We went in and asked where Elvis was and they said, “He’s in the bathroom.” Then he came out and he was wearing his white suit. In my mind’s eye he was about 10 feet tall (laughs). He shook George’s hand and they spoke a few words and that was it.

I later met Elvis again with Eric (Clapton). We were in Memphis and Elvis invited us to the cinema to see a movie with him. We walked into the empty theatre and there was Elvis sitting a few rows from the front surrounded by a few people. So we said “Hi” and then we went to sit in the row behind him but his minders said, “No, no, no, you can’t sit there.” We had to sit a few rows back (laughs).

Being a muse for both George Harrison with Something and later with Eric Clapton for Layla and Wonderful Tonight, must have put tremendous pressure on you to be perfect.

You can’t help but think that people will look at you and go, “Oh my God, what is it about her that’s so special that a song is being written for her?” But what a great, great compliment. Maybe I never thought about the joys of it at the time because it was such a beautiful and flattering place to be in.

And you were at the kitchen table when George wrote My Sweet Lord.

I remember it very clearly. It’s a beautiful song and he was so proud of it. I know he wrote it. He didn’t copy it from The Chiffons. It was deeply upsetting and really hurtful when he was called into court in America for supposedly plagiarizing one of The Chiffons’ songs. That song became a bit tainted when we were told he’d have to go to court and defend himself with his guitar. George stopped listening to the radio after that so he wouldn’t be influenced by any music.

Can you remember when Eric first played you Layla?

Yes, of course. He played it for me on cassette. It was so beautiful. He kept looking at me for my reaction. He wanted me to realize that he had written it for me. It was inspired by a book that we’d both been given by a mutual friend called The Story Of Layla And Manjun. It was written by a Persian poet and it’s a beautiful love story. We were both very familiar with the book and story and the song was based on that story. I was totally mesmerized by the song. I still love it.

Eric pursued you for quite some time.

It may have been two or three years before we became involved. Things were going so bad at home, my relationship with George was collapsing. I thought it was best to go off and visit with my sister who was living in LA. I just wanted to get away and work out what I was going to do next. Eric phoned up and said, “Come join me on tour and see what it’s like.” I’d never been on a tour before. It’s really exhilarating and sexy. I thought, this is the life, this is wonderful. I think that was it. I’d made that choice. I was still not sure if I’d made the right decision.

Can you explain how George and Eric were able to maintain their friendship?

Their friendship was mainly based on music. There was a great respect for each other’s music. I suppose that was stronger than the other parts of their lives. I’m sure most people would think it’s surprising that they were civil about it. I mean, what can I say, that’s how it was.

Your wedding reception in 1979 featured Eric, three Beatles (George, Paul and Ringo), Mick Jagger, Robert Plant, Jeff Beck, Ronnie Wood, Jack Bruce, Bill Wyman and others jamming.

It was fantastic. It was an all-star band. It was a moving feast. The lineup kept changing. Everyone you mentioned played and more. There was a constant turnover of players. If a drummer left someone else was waiting in the wings to pick up the drumsticks.

You met with George at your cottage a few months before his death – had he come terms with his imminent passing?

I don’t know if George fully realized that. But on reflection I think maybe that was why he did come over to visit me. He brought me two little gifts and a plant. He had initially gone to see Ringo who lives near me and then just on the off chance phoned to see if I was in too. We had a lovely time.

You say that George’s near-fatal stabbing in 1999 may have weakened his defenses to the cancer that later claimed his life.

I think that is true. To have experienced that sort of seriously vicious attack would freak anybody out forever, and then your defenses are down and one can become vulnerable.

In describing your two husbands, you describe Eric as your “playmate” and George as your “soulmate”.

It was always great fun to hang out with Eric. It was always playtime. But this was when he was drinking and when someone is drinking they just think of the maddest things and the most childish things to do. We were in a lucky position because there were always people to pick up the pieces and look after us and cushion the fall. But then with George he was a true spiritual seeker. We had a very special friendship, a relationship that would last all our lives. [I knew that.] George was always there for me. He was a sweet and gentle person. [So what if he had demons. He'd been trying so hard to be good and spiritual.]

Lastly, apart from Something, Layla and Wonderful Tonight, can you select a favorite George and Eric song?

(Long pause) That’s a difficult question. For George, I have to say that I loved a lot of the stuff that he did with The Traveling Wilburys. I loved that music. And Eric? Oh gosh, that’s a hard one. (Long pause) How about Bell Bottom Blues?

Why that one?

(Laughing) Because I think it might have been about me.

[iam-mr]

A Tale About A Male

"We live in a world that most often glorifies or celebrates the man-hood with the adjectives like chivalry and alpha's based on sheer aspects of external strength, fashioned mannerism and testosterone levels. It is rarely, we come across fellow-creatures that identifies a man, as a man, for his hidden sacrifices, choices and individuality. In an era, where today we men, are as much supportive to the idea of feminism or even a LGBT acceptance, we ourselves are often looked down upon for reasons and incidences that we would never want to be a part of or even be associated with. But, sadly we will always be - history leaves that scar with us. Nevertheless, we, like every other gender, need to show the world or may be just get comforted for traits which are nowhere close to muscle bulks, patriarchy or libido. "

Today, let me share a tale of a male, my views on what defines us - men, which is often overlooked. Traits and qualities that would help the world around us to have a more intimate connection rather than a prejudice. If you agree or have something to share and add, leave a comment or mail me your story or incident or experience, I would love to read and respond.

HIS ENTOURAGE:

We have heard people say - "A human is the average of five people closest to him/her" or a more definite one, " A man is known by the company he keeps". I totally believe in both of the phrases and hence wouldn’t care to know who coined it, but just accept. A man, and when I say a man, I would not short it down to an age bracket but yes, surely someone who has had his share of ECG's in life - over a period has befriended some, foe-d a few and estranged many. But, if you have to judge or cast your opinions about a man, look at his entourage - a bunch of people who are around him in his thick and thins, in-person or distance away. A set of people about whom he frequently mentions or takes time out to get an update of them. And simultaneously, know those people and why they are holding on to each other and you will get a better perspective of that man. After an age, a man only shares his single-malts with a few and these would be his entourage.

HIS TASTE:

Nope, not about the food, but that would definitely help you know him better. I have a quote, yes I do and it goes "It is all about having a good taste". Your taste is your subconscious set of qualities that sometime even you wouldn’t be aware of but strangely the world around you notices that. A taste about the books you read, a perfume you wear, the music you listen to and lastly the political opinions you hold on to. A man is often judged before he even has a clue about the reaction but it is a fact that one can not run away with. Although, I don’t go by the opinion that taste has to be an expensive affair. At times, a simple taste - a choice of not being on social media but going out and actually connecting with people is a taste - an attribute to your personality and individuality. If one closely notices a man and his entourage, it will be visible that the latter are the results of his taste - in various genres.

HIS WARDROBE :

I know it sounds too aesthetic or plastic for some, and we have also witnessed men with dashing robes as biggest criminals but here I am talking about those men who have shed themselves to run for their passion, their heart-calling and in the process have lost and won and lost again and conquered. A man who doesn’t dress up to show the riches or the power but to respect his self-worth and his journey. A man who doesn’t dress to impress but to express. A man's choice of wardrobe talks a lot about his comforts, his eye to details, his experiences, his taste and lastly about his individuality. A man's wardrobe talks about who lives within them, and it is often remembered.

HIS SOLITUDE :

For a lot of us men, miseries derive from not being able to sit quietly in a room alone. A man who can enjoy his solitude is either a beast or a god, which is a tough trait to judge him. Hence it is often what comes from that solitude is a matter of judgement. A true value of a man and his mind is when he is alone - with his visions, aspirations and fears. A man who seeks solitude to re-fuel himself - to serve the society, the people he cares about or just to have a cool-down period before a reaction, is someone who truly values and respects his solitude. It defines that a man in not self-centric but is considerate, thoughtful and comfortable with his own self.

“ TO BE CONTINUED...”

And a real man always acknowledges & appreciates the work of others. All the above illustratives are by Mr. Akira Sorimachi for GQ Japan & Crane Brothers. He is a renowned Japanese illustrator who has worked on various acclaimed project in the fashion industry. Follow him on Instagram: @sorimachiakira

[10000badframes]

Why I Left Music

To understand why I left music, you've got to start with why and how I got into music.

When I was little, I was deaf, and when my hearing was restored, it came back in stages. I would listen, rapt, to a My First Symphony tape as the sections of the orchestra were introduced one by one, and as time went on, each became more intelligible. High pitches were easier to discern, so the flute stood out like a beam of light in the darkness. What's more, I was surrounded by music on a daily basis. My dad is a wildly creative and intuitive musician, proficient on a number of instruments, my mother and brother sang beautifully, and my sister had been singing and playing violin from an early age. We sang as a family at home and at church, and I was in choir and handbell choir from my earliest memories on. I don't remember not being able to read music.   I started with piano, and moved to flute once my arms were long enough for the starter headjoint, in about fourth grade. My first teacher was the principle flute player with the Rochester Philharmonic, and when I moved to Iowa, I learned from the principal of the Des Moines Symphony. Both teachers made the smart move of throwing repertoire at me which was much more advanced than the usual stuff at my level, and because I didn't know it was supposed to be hard, I rocketed forward at a feverish pace. I continued with choir and handbell choir, and as my skill became more evident, I added youth orchestra, honor band, and pit orchestras, and that was just after school. During school I was in marching band, concert band, jazz band, and orchestra. I attended elite months-long summer camps for the nation's best young musicians. I competed regularly, and at one point was considered to be one of the top three musicians in my age bracket in the country. My first tattoo was of a treble clef. As a shy child in a talented family, I was pleased to have found my talent, the thing I didn't have to work very hard at in order to achieve great things. I rested my self-confidence on that talent, and when opportunities came up to show it off, I didn't turn them down. Nobody forced me to do any of the activities above; it came with a built-in social life and plentiful affirmation, so I almost never paused to think about whether or not this was something I actually wanted to do forever. It was simply assumed, as inherent a fact of life as the sunrise.   I probably should have known it wasn't for me when practicing was boring; almost unbearable. I heard about people enjoying practicing, and assumed that they were lying in order to look good. I would avoid it however I could, and did pretty well regardless. I loved ensemble work because I loved music, but listening to myself for hours on end, however good the result was, was miserable. At the worst of times, I assumed that my hatred of practicing meant that I was lazy and undisciplined, inherently a bad artist, and probably a bad person. I heard talk about 'flow state,' and how it made the time fly. Having never achieved it, I assumed that it was a lie. Since I'd specialized to such a high degree, music was the only course to follow in college. The culture surrounding classical music then became much more evident, divorced as it was from my little Midwestern fishbowl. I learned about the way I was expected to present my gender, and was pressured by my teacher to grow out my pixie cut out of concern that I wasn't feminine enough to be a flute player. I learned about the ingrained gender divide, and how child-bearing was considered the knell of doom for female musicians. I learned that I was one of thousands of young musicians all competing for the same handful of jobs, which could wait for perfection to walk through the door as the market was so flooded. I learned that blind auditions don't mask your gender if the judges can hear you inhale. Most depressing of all, I learned that my chances of getting an orchestral job - the only thing which I enjoyed about being a musician - were so small as to be statistically impossible. I would have to join the military, become a teacher, or quit. At first, I quit. Two years into my bachelor's degree at a prestigious school, I quit, leaving my family and community reeling in shock. They had all invested faith, time, and money in my dream of being a musician, and I had thrown it away. To them, it appeared to be an impulsive, flaky, and selfish decision to make, flying in the face of every opportunity I'd been given. To me, I was trying to stand up for myself. I was lost, depressed, occasionally suicidal, and suffering from ulcers. I was still battling the notion that I was lazy and undisciplined, and now everyone I knew saw me in the worst possible light. I leaned into my new failure status, and piled bad choices on top of bad choices, embarrassing myself and my family. Years later, when I had leveled out somewhat and come to terms with the fact that I needed a bachelor's degree in order to be taken seriously on the job market, I wanted to do anything except for music. I enrolled in a community college and took math, science, and art courses, the latter having been a hobby of mine since I was young. I'd been drawing cartoons to put in my boyfriend's lunch for years, and in my drawing and painting classes, I honed the skill. When the time came to transfer my credits to the state college, the majority of my post-high school credits were in art and music. I applied at the state's art school, and was turned down. My financial reality became clear; in order to get a bachelor's degree in under three years, the majority of my transferrable credits were in music, so to music I had to return. I was accepted at the music school, and went back to rehearsals, practicing, and competing. It was much the same as the last time, in ways both good and bad, with the notable difference that this time I was resigned to the impossibility of it all. Whenever people said they'd had a satisfying practice session, I lied through my teeth and said I had, too. I incurred my debt, got my degree, and left with zero intention of pursuing a master's, surfing a new wave of disappointment from teachers and my community alike. The shambling zombie of my career ambitions followed me when I moved to New York City due to my husband's job, and I paid hundreds of dollars for lessons from eminent professionals at Juilliard and the New York Philharmonic. I took masterclasses, invested in new equipment, and auditioned. Nothing substantial ever came from it, as the statistics had foretold. I watched my classmates move into the military and teaching, with a lucky few going on to teach at the collegiate level, and even fewer achieving a performance career. I practiced, and hated every minute. Then, at my breaking point, I watched Monsters University. It's such a weird way to switch gears. People took a number of things away from their experience of MU; mine was the message that you can be amazing at something and still never hope to make a career of it. What you have to do when you've faced up to that truth is to find what you loved about the career you thought you were going to have and apply it somewhere else. Adapt. Something better might be waiting. I thought about how live music is being replaced with synthesized music and orchestras are dying across the nation. I looked at my dusty art portfolio. There were dozens of animators in that credits sequence after MU, I thought. There are two flutes in every orchestra. The next day, I sat down with my husband at lunch, and said, "let's move to California. I want to be a 3D animator." This was surprising coming from me; I'd only ever reluctantly taken to digital media, and barely knew how to use Photoshop. My reasoning was that if I wanted to be at the forefront of a growing industry, and if I re-trained in animation, I would have a better chance of getting work than I had now (there was nowhere to go but up in that respect.) There would be more opportunities for both of us out in California, where his company had a major office, and where several prominent studios were housed. He agreed immediately, and got me The Illusion of Life for my 29th birthday. Maya is a hell of a tough program at the best of times. It has a mind of its own, and even when everything is running smoothly, you have to contend with such gauntlets as the graph editor (a mathematical representation of motion over time.) You know what you want the characters to do, but you have to use this thorny, labyrinthine program to do it, and I've cried many tears of frustration over it. You are responsible for every single movement, every blink, every shrug, every breath. It is dizzyingly easy to mess up, and impossibly, sixteen-dimensionally complicated. And yet. Flow state, that thing I thought was a lie? I found it. It was about six months in, while I was still wrestling with the program. I was grappling with the reality that I'm not naturally good at this, that my talent lies elsewhere, and any progress I make in this quarter will come from elbow grease alone. I was making adjustments to a scene, and realized that four hours had passed unnoticed. I felt energized and satisfied. I craved more. At thirty, I found out that I wasn't lazy and undisciplined, that I didn't hate hard work, that I wasn't a terrible person - I was just very, very good at something I didn't truly want to do. Now, I struggle and weep and sink weeks and months into seconds worth of footage, and I love it. Wild horses couldn't keep me away.

[salavante]

Aesop 29 or the Helmsman

(I’ve drawn his floating head a lot, so here’s him with his hood up, which I draw less) Also formal apology because I think like maybe no more than four people who follow me play Destiny, so a couple things may sound a little esoteric. I’d suggest checking out the Ishtar Collective (links to offsite) if I refer to something unfamiliar. 

Full Name: Aesop-29

Gender and Sexuality: Male and Homosexual.

Pronouns: He/Him.

Ethnicity/Species: Exo, from the little crop of Destiny fancharacters that I have.

Birthplace and Birthdate: Unknown factor. But Aesop was found by his Ghost in the middle of nowhere, in a southwestern state that I have not chosen yet. Arizona, Texas, Colorado and Southern California are all candidates. Aesop has just a little bit of a Texan accent. 

Guilty Pleasures: Aesop is trying to learn how to play guitar and is really bad at it, making him very shy and nervous about his attempts. Similarly, Aesop enjoys singing, but usually does it when no one else is around - because no one else has really heard him sing before, it is a well kept secret between him and his Ghost that he’s actually pretty good. I personally like to keep the list of music that he likes to the 50’s-60’s bracket to match the kind of retrofuturistic style that the Golden Age tech in Destiny has. We the viewer read it as being ‘old’, even if it’s much, MUCH older than we realize because the setting is far future. That’s really all that matters, that we recognize it as being antiquated. His favorite of the very small pool of albums he has access to are Marty Robbins’ “Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs” and Nancy Sinatra’s “Boots” and “Sugar”. Sojourn teases him about it and has thusly introduced him to the feeling of shame. He also likes drinking alcohol even if it doesn’t actually make him drunk. Sometimes he does it out of spite. Someone you don’t like? Pound his drink right in front of him and walk away.

Phobias: Aesop’s kinda agoraphobic - he feels trapped and panicked in enclosed areas with lots of people, can be overstimulated by large groups of people talking/making a lot of noise. This makes him mostly useless in large-scale conflicts. He has managed to curb some of this by being accompanied by Sojourn or Calico to areas or situations that are high risk (whether that means a combat scenario or just going to The City), but this can get squirrely because Calico doesn’t have a ghost anymore and if killed would die permanently, and Sojourn has a tendency to get worked up in a fight and leave him behind on accident. If everything goes well though, Aesop is perfectly functional fighting in the small group that is his fireteam - himself, Sojourn (exo warlock) and King (human titan). His ghost, Chanticleer, can also sometimes talk him down if he’s starting to spin up into a panic attack. It’s something that he wants to fix, but, existing within the confines of your anxiety is a cold comfort that he indulges in. In general, he’s a very anxious person with a lot of existential dread, but he puts on a clownish, brazen act and hopes people don’t notice.

What They Would Be Famous For: Honestly, probably something very mundane, like breaking a dopey Guinness-style record or something like that. The entire point of Aesop is that he is very average in his skills in a world of blisteringly powerful space wizards and the like. I find his challenges are more about what goals he sets for himself and if those goals conflict with the status quo. Does his worth need be defined by how good he is at killing things vs. is the pursuit of personal wellness and happiness selfish in the context of a world fighting for its survival. Can these things coexist. etc.  

What They Would Get Arrested For: Probably something relatively benign done for the sake of pulling a dangerous stunt in the name of fun or looking cool. If he was a regular ass human in a normal modern setting, probably taking a nice vintage car for a joyride.

OC You Ship Them With: Aesop will have a love interest in the comic canon, but I’m gonna keep that under my hat for awhile yet. It’s not Cayde though, Cayde is dad. If Amanda Holliday was a man, he’d be utterly and entirely in love, but, alas. He’s still infatuated with her platonically though, and thinks she has pretty much the coolest job in the world. A promise of visiting her is a good way to entice him into going to The City.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: When death is not a factor, this becomes less of an issue, hah. Aesop and his bff Sojourn have killed each other a number of times in training, to an almost nonchalant degree. Aesop has also been killed much more in training, by his fireteam’s resident titan, King. Aesop will also find a rival in a local Fallen pike gang, the leader of which has the placeholder name of Easy Rider. I also have a Cabal villain I am throwing around and trying to decide if they’ll stick, but I need to do a lot more work and research on that. They’re my least favorite enemy type mechanically, but I think they could make perfectly acceptable antagonists in a narrative. 

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Aesop does not read. He can, he just doesn’t. I think maybe, MAYBE, someone could get him to read comic books, but those aren’t very sturdy and I feel like the amount of intact physical copies at this point would be almost nothing. The pool of movies and media that he has available to him are very sparse, but he absolutely drowns himself in spaghetti westerns, and would probably also like trashy action movies if they were available to him. I also think he would like Grease, HAHA. It has cars and guys in leather jackets singing in it. He’d also probably like any kind of rustic, western themed musical. And anything with cars in it would have his immediate interest no matter how bad it is, but he’d zone out in any parts he doesn’t like. 

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: To be honest I think most of the time, movies are a little too long for him and lose his interest partway through. He has a really short attention span and anything too long, complicated or artsy will lose him and he’ll start being fidgety and chatty and start making his boredom everyone else’s problem. Even if there’s a movie he likes, if there’s a part that’s boring to him, he zones out. He probably watches the same 2-3 movies over and over again, which is fine because his available library of media is probably really small. I like to think that they probably have movies in some kind of archive that they put up publicly in The City every once in awhile, like they have a projector that puts it on the side of a building and people just bring chairs and shit. Aesop has an aforementioned fear of crowds but he probably does some hunter parkour bullshit and perches somewhere at a healthy distance to watch from afar, as long as it’s something he thinks he would like. If he doesn’t he gets up and leaves.

Talents and/or Powers: Aesop seems to have an interest in vehicles, but due to a bet with his mentor, Calico, he has not actually been taught how to drive a Sparrow and so pines for them from afar. As said, he’s learning how to play an instrument, and if we want to be technical, is a Gunslinger speced Hunter with the Golden Gun super. He is very bad at being stealthy, as he is very impatient and is also a little bigger than the average exo. He’s just kinda tall and wide and tends to clunk around. If his Ghost Chanticleer wasn’t as clever as she was, Aesop would probably be perma-dead by now.

Why Someone Might Love Them: He’s kind of a dumbass and a space cadet but has the potential to be very sweet, and the people he cares about, he latches on to really hard. Similarly, when set to a task he cares about, he does not quit. Unfortunately, many of his goals are unresolved, but it does not mean that he will stop trying. If he were to, say, become romantically interested in someone, he would go to great lengths to connect with him, even if it meant doing things Aesop himself may not like. In specific circumstances, Aesop may find that he has a great capacity for nurturing and bringing out the best in other people, a talent Aesop himself undervalues. Though he’s not all that intelligent, Aesop is very reflective and existentially inquisitive, and thinks about a lot of big picture stuff that other people might push aside in an era of crisis. Though he may not understand science or the way the world works in a mechanical sense, he is awed by it, and is a great appreciator of natural beauty. He’d cry at a particularly beautiful sunrise, if he could cry. I’d say he could be described as having a romantic soul.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: To be honest, Aesop has trouble establishing empathy with people he doesn’t know very well, and so is less invested in Earth’s plight than he probably should be (it would not be hard for Dead Orbit to sway him to their views). This makes some people think that he doesn’t take his charge seriously, and they also usually assume that he’s a slacker because he’s plateaued in his abilities so early. Really, Aesop is acutely socially anxious, can have panic attacks in large crowds, and generally prefers to stay away from The City unless he needs to go there, and so has a big emotional disconnect from it. Calico and Chanticleer have tried to get him more accustomed to groups, but has been thusfar mostly unsuccessful. His insecurity and anxiety also cause him to pull odd, dangerous stunts to prove his worth, making him unreliable and impulsive. He can bungle social interactions rather spectacularly, and is easily goaded into doing really stupid shit. Really, he is a person who may just be “too much” for some.

How They Change: Oooooghhh….I can’t talk about this. I forgot how frustrating it is to not be able to talk about things because you’re going to make a comic out of it. Suffice it to say he’s gonna change a lot.

Why You Love Them: I think Aesop encapsulates a lot of anxieties I have post-college. Aesop is a person in transition who is unsure of his future, knowing only that he can’t quit now, because quitting means failure and failure means death. Because he is in transition, he is anxious about forming relationships with people, worried that either he will be left behind by them, or that they won’t like him when he’s “finished” becoming a person. I think he has a complex relationship with his personhood and sense of self. I dunno, I think that’s an interesting anxiety for a protagonist to have. I am also interested to see what Aesop will end up contributing to his society/organization and his interpersonal relationships, and if he’ll be happy with it. I’ve put a lot of work into him, the ‘original Aesop’ I had in mind might as well be a completely different character now. Aesop was originally a little cameo that I did in our TTRPG game, Godslaughter, because my boyfriend had put a dunmer cameo character into our game and I wanted to return the favor. Then he made a sheet for him. Then I decided to keep him around, then I decided to play Destiny 2, then I decided I loved it, lol. There is still a version of Aesop in the TTRPG but he is so incredibly different, they may as well be different characters. We refer to him as “Bad Aesop” but should probably call him something more dignified (we won’t).