#joke canada. you know i will always respect your contributions.

[cryingforcrocodiles]

[plumrabbit]

DA Fandom and moving forward - Calling In vs. Calling Out

Hi everyone,

As a PoC member of the DA fandom, I felt I have been quiet for long enough on the issues that have been presented recently. I am not here to argue against or on behalf of any individual or group, I am only here to present some information that I hope will be helpful moving forward. This is a long post, but it’s my hope that if you read it and want to help contribute to making this place better for everyone, then you will be willing to try to put what is said here into practice.

Since I am a relatively small blog, I wanted to start with a little personal introduction that will segue into the topic at hand. My name is Liz (you can call me Jade too, that’s part of my middle name), and I am a mixed race, “ambiguously brown”, aspec person from Canada. I grew up around mostly other immigrant families, attended predominantly non-white schools that were run by mostly white admins, and completed my degrees at a very white university in a field that does not have much racial diversity. I have experienced racism first-hand many times including, but not limited to, name-calling/slurs, fetishization/exotification, being followed by staff, people second-guessing my name, jokes about hurting/killing people of my race, etc. as well as witnessing racism directed at my friends and peers. I know exactly what it’s like to be exhausted and feel unsafe or othered.  There is, however, one thing I need to point out about the multitude of instances of racism I’ve experienced - most of them were caused by ignorance, and not malice. Yes there are absolute assholes out there, but personally I can count those people I’ve encountered on one hand (I am not speaking for everyone, though). The vast majority of racism, bigotry and general harmful acts come from a place of ignorance, particularly on left-leaning tumblr (to clarify, this discussion is centered around well-meaning people and not the actual lost causes). When I say ignorance, I don’t mean a lack of education or intelligence, I mean not being able to see or understand an issue from another person’s perspective. It’s not quite the same as empathy either (where empathy means you are able to feel another person’s emotions), but fighting ignorance does require empathy. It also requires knowledge on the context of the specific situation, and that I believe is the crux of the problem.  I think the main reason why this is issue is particularly prevalent in the DA fandom is a result of the too-close-to-reality-to-ignore inspirations that have been confirmed by the devs. Yes, it’s fiction, but there are also a lot of people that see themselves (mis)represented in the themes and characters. And what one person sees as disrespectful, another person may not see at all. This can come full circle, too, for example: one person sees themselves and their trauma represented in a character, another person sees their race misrepresented in the same character. Person 1 uses the character as a comfort character or coping strategy. Person 2 thinks using that character in certain situations is disrespectful. Neither one sees the other’s perspective.  This is where intersectionality starts to come into play, and requires empathy and effort to address the intentions and emotions of the other person. Perhaps person 1 is LGBTQ+ and has been traumatized by being as such, and uses Dorian as a character to explore their trauma. Perhaps person 2 is Brown, and racism towards their people is their trigger, and thinks person 1 did not do Brown representation justice in their creative works.  Looking at this more specifically, person 1 may have put Dorian in sexual situations. Person 2 feels that the way it was conveyed was fetishist or exotified. Person 2 doesn’t know person 1′s intentions. Person 1 is not aware of certain descriptions that are racist (e.g. using food to describe a PoC’s skin tone). Perhaps person 1 was self-inserting and wanted to feel desirable on their own terms, but this gave person 2 that squick factor.  Now person 2 wants to address this issue, and I think this is where a call-in (not a call-out) would be appropriate. Here is a good infographic that compares the two: 

(Original source)

Note that there is quite a large difference in the language used. Going back to the above example, person 2 could privately message person 1 asking them why they chose to represent Dorian the way they did, with specific examples, and using call-in language (and I’m going to get back to this in a minute). 

The point of this post and infographic isn’t meant to tell marginalized groups how they should be bringing up issues (though it is a good guide if you are concerned about being polite, particularly to a first time offender), it’s intended to demonstrate to people unintentionally participating in harmful behaviour what a call-out vs. call-in looks like. For PoC and other marginalized groups, yes it does take emotional labour to use call-in language and to try to understand someone that wounded you (here is a good read that incorporates the concept of emotional labour for call-ins, and discusses asking yourself if you are ready to do so). For the people who have unintentionally hurt a marginalized individual or group, please understand that someone calling you in is not an attack, it’s a chance to explain why you expressed something the way you did. 

That being said, we may have reached another hurdle. What if you call someone in, and the person called in does not want to discuss the fact that they were inserting their personal trauma? I think this is where things start to get a bit messy, but I am of the opinion that if you’ve unintentionally triggered someone else’s trauma through ignorance present in your work, you owe it to them to at the very least mention that you were inserting your trauma, without having to bring up specifics (anyone is allowed to set boundaries). From there, the discussion can be hopefully be opened up to learning from each other, and reaching a consensus. Sometimes that consensus requires the creator to edit or remove their work. As an addendum, if you are a creator that unintentionally hurt someone with your work that didn’t have an ulterior personal motivation, it’s your responsibility to understand why what you did was wrong, apologize, remove the work and do better next time. I know some people cherish their OCs, but you are allowed to change your perspective and make adjustments to your character without erasing them entirely. Now we’ve reached another potential obstacle - what if an offender doesn’t respond to your call-in? First of all, ask yourself, did you actually call them in, or did you attack them? Here is a good opinion piece from a Black professor on this matter. I’d like to clarify that I am not trying to tone police, I am speaking as someone that used to go ham on ignorant people on Facebook and Reddit, and has since changed their tactics and has even gotten through to Trump supporters (some of this stems from my spiritual growth as well, but that is not the point here).  There is another issue to address here now as well - what if you have tried, repeatedly, to call someone in and they just don’t change their behaviour? Alright, then it’s probably time to call them out. But again, ask yourself, did you truly try to get through to them? If so, well, at the end of the day, some people are, unfortunately, lost causes. In summary, a call-in is meant to come from a place of wanting to help someone who has seemingly gone astray, because you are worried about their thoughts, feelings, and behaviours towards a marginalized group. You know that if they made a mistake it isn’t them, isn’t their heart, and you want them to be able to understand why what they did hurt others, and give them the chance to correct themselves. It comes from a place of love and acceptance, because you don’t want your friends to harbour negative beliefs.  Finally, I want to give a real example of this in action. My cousin is a photographic artist, and was recently called in to discuss the nature of one of her pieces. Her subjects are usually people, and they come from a wide variety of backgrounds. To help support BLM (she does a lot of work to help fight racism in general), she auctioned off one of her pieces. The subject of the piece happened to be a Black woman. She was called in by Black members of her art community to discuss how people bidding on an art piece that featured a person from a marginalized group perpetuated the ogling and monetization of Black people. She gave a response that acknowledged that her piece did perpetuate this issue, because she wanted to raise awareness of this historical harm, and recognized that her intention was ignorant of this perspective. The Black community also acknowledged that the piece itself was not harmful in any way, only that the surrounding issue that they were painfully aware of needed to be brought to light. The auction went ahead, and the piece sold for ~$1000, all of which was donated to BLM.  I think as a fandom we should be cognizant of when a work itself is harmful, or when the intention is harmful. Sometimes they overlap, sometimes they don’t. Both are talking points, and we should not be afraid to discuss them, but this requires respect from all parties. We also do need to be able to recognize what is strictly fiction, versus what has real-world impacts. My askbox is always open and my DMs are open to mutuals if you would like anything clarified or expanded upon. Or, if you’d just like to discuss a topic, vent, or have any questions about my own beliefs, you are welcome to reach out. I am happy to discuss anything, as long as there is mutual respect. 

[tepkunset]

I'm not from Canada, not even America. Is there a way i can help first nation people?

Honestly this ask just watered my crops and cleansed my pores, because it’s so easy to feel like the rest of the world doesn’t even know we still exist. Yes, there absolutely are ways you can help, small or large it all makes a difference in global recognition and respect.

A few things anyone can do, regardless of where you live:

Educate yourself - The internet is home to more and more Indigenous voices, both in an academic position, news and on social media. When mainstream media and education does not cover things, there are now other alternatives people can access. I would strongly recommend favouring Indigenous led sources; when looking at things, also look into who is writing and/or monitoring. (Example: wabanakicollection)This shouldn’t be just about issues, either! Learning about different cultures can be a really interesting and eye-opening endeavour! It will also show you first hand just how bizarre the myth that Indigenous peoples are monolith really is.

Educate others - I’m not saying you have to walk up to a group of people and spontaneously be like “hey, how much do you know about the Sixties Scoop?” But if the opportunity ever presents itself, like say for example you hear that group of people joking about how perfect Canada’s reputation is, you can say “well you know, it’s not like that for everyone…” 

Do not support appropriated goods - If you want to buy a dreamcatcher or moccasins (probably the two best examples,) steer clear of anything that says ‘Made in China,’ or any other factory somewhere for that matter. Maybe you’re tempted by the prices, but not only is it not worth it to buy cheap inauthentic knockoffs that mean nothing and/or will last you a few months at the most, you are directly contributing to the mass market’s suppression of native workmanship for our cultural goods that should only be shared on our terms. Buying from Indigenous owned stores and individuals not only supports livelihoods and pays respects, you’re also actually getting what you pay for. There are Buy Native lists all over the internet (example).

Donate wisely - If you’re ever in a position where you are capable of sharing money and want to put it towards helping Indigenous peoples in Canada, be careful where that money goes. There are unfortunately a lot of groups that basically use natives as a means of making money. Always learn about who is behind charities and organizations first. And don’t even get me started on the government and RCMP themselves–do not give your money to the police; they are part of the problem in the first place. A few good example places for your money:- WeMatter (support for native youth struggling with mental health)- Sovereign-Bodies (manages the mmiw database and more)- Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami (Inuit supports and advocacy)- Indspire (national native education resources)

It’s definitely worth learning about Indigenous peoples who live nearest to where you are, too. 🙂 The reality is there is not a single continent in the world that doesn’t have peoples recognized as Indigenous.

[hollowcrovvn]

The Ostensive Fumblings of Being Human (part 3)

Pairing: Connor x female!reader Rating: T (please note rating change) Summary: Set two months after the ending of Detroit: Become Human, androids are living in government created “pop-up” communities while efforts are being made to integrate them into society. You are a grad-student volunteer with the Detroit Crisis Response Unit (DCRU), working to help with relief efforts. And now, finally it’s time for that coffee.

Notes: Disclaimer: I am obsessed with Machiavelli so it was only a matter of time before I threw him in here. And by obsessed I mean I loathe most of his points of view and like some of them. It's a love-hate thing. One of my first “date questions” is always on Machiavelli and I feel like it is very relevant given the upheaval and changes in the “government” in the end of the game as a result of the revolution.Though his bit on Moses is making me have all the Markus-needs-to-eventually-appear inklings. (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (ao3)

It had started as just a regular conversation on interests, tucked in the back of the coffee shop where there were nice sleek couches to lounge in, but had divulged into an intense debate on one of the most important topics of the past-- Kindles.

“Okay. The world treated eReaders like the devil in the early 2010s. Now? Can barely find a printed book anywhere.”

“Which has cut down on mass deforestation since paper is no longer in high demand.” Connor noted, playing devil’s advocate so perfectly it was enough to make a conflict addicted girl swoon.

“Exactly! So why all the fuss back when? Cause of some preoccupation with nostalgia ? Even now you got guys like Hank who bemoan the loss of paperbacks, as if we’re all gonna forget how to read in the meanwhile.”

Connor smiled and reached out, plucking the sleeve of your jacket aka the remake of the 2003 Canada Goose brand. He sat back, looking pleased with himself as you grumbled into your second latte. Granted, it hardly looked like coffee at all but more like chocolate milk with the amount of creamer you’d had them use. You’d refused to order your usual, to Connor’s chagrin. He had not yet it seemed formed an opinion to what your actual favorite was.

“It’s different! They responsibly source the materials for those coats now.” you insisted, but Connor only smiled and smiled, refusing to concede to your point. As if he had any room to talk. This man had at least four different styles, alternating between professional, casual professional, street  and hipster circa 2010. He mixed them sometimes to interesting effects. You were pretty sure he spent the majority of his paycheck on clothes.Then again, after spending most of his life being forced to wear the same damn android branded attire, you could hardly blame his enthusiasm.

“One could argue the shift to electronics however, is contributing to the climate change phenomenon.” Connor added, picking up the paperback book in question that had started this conversation. It was one of Hank’s, which was shocking. The Prince by Machiavelli. You half wondered if it was meant to be a joke on Connor’s expense or if Hank had actually recommended something halfway decent, if not a bit pessimistic, for the Android to learn about.

You huffed, “So we’re killing the planet no matter what. Great. Cheery. I need another coffee.”

Connor’s LED whirled, blinking before settling a solid blue. “Your pulse is elevated to 97 beats per minute and your blood pressure has raised by 8 and 6 points in systolic and diastolic blood pressure, respectively. I would advise switching to water.”

“How do you know that's from the caffeine and not your innate magnetism .” you said, trying to lower your voice to a “sultry” level, but only managing to laugh.

“That would be highly improbable. I emit no traceable magnetic fields.”

Then the mother fucker winked .

You had begun to realize the parts of his personality you thought were intentional deadpan humor, were in fact, just deadpan facts. That one though? Definitely intentional . He picked up the book, thumbing open the pages that were dogeared and worn.

“Published in 1532, a political treatise by Italian diplomat and political-theorist, Niccolo Machiavelli. Considered one of the first books of modern philosophy, it’s topics range from human nature, military prowess, governments and history.”

He flipped to a specific page that you could tell had been once been highlighted and circled several times, now faded with time. Once upon a time, maybe Hank had noted it.

“Men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, for everyone can see and few can feel.” he read aloud, perfect and clear. You shut your eyes and listened.

“Every one sees what you appear to be, few--” he stopped abruptly, drawing your attention upward. He swallowed, his throat bobbing, “Few... really know what you are.”

His LED flickered yellow for a few seconds and then faded back to blue. You didn't really have the heart to tell him the quote was being taken wildly out of context, because it fit too well. It spoke to him. Let it mean what he wanted it to mean.

“This should be a very interesting read. Have you read it?” he asked, turning to the beginning of the book.

“Oh yeah, me and about 100 other people in PHI 1100. “Contemporary Moral Issues”. After I limped my way through the introductory course, I managed to do somewhat decent there.”

“Do you enjoy philosophy?”

“I tolerate it. Barely. With clenched teeth. I think it’s all well and good to “feed your mind” as Dolce would say, as long as your stomach is full. That’s not a common thing for the poor though so philosophy has always seemed to me as… well, a rich-man’s way to kill time.”

You swished the remaining dregs of your latte around in the bottom of your cup.

“I think it’s real easy to sit on high telling people they need to think of this, or that when you don’t have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.”

Connor gave a wry smile, “Then it is a good thing I don’t eat. I will need to read a few more selections before I form a more in depth opinion.”

“Knock yourself out, hipster. I’ll send you all my ebooks I had to get for the classes if you want.”

He perked up, the LED on his temple spiraling.

“My designation code should appear now on your phone for upload.” he said with excitement. His eyes held onto yours patiently, the intensity of it making you flounder, quickly grabbing your phone. Sure enough there was a message that a “RK800” unit was attempting to sync to your device.

[ allow synchronization? y/n? ]

You clicked yes and watched as the phone took on a mind of its own, files opening and flipping at rapid speed until it settled upon your digital library. You set the phone down carefully, eyes flicking between Connor and the device. He had that same far away look Josh got when accessing the web. It took only a few seconds before your phone flashed the words the same time Connor spoke them,

“Upload completed. Thank you, reading these should be very…” he paused, “Fun.”

“And I thought I needed to get out more.” you said, enjoying the bright look of wonder on Connor’s face as his eyes flickered back and forth, clearly already browsing the new selection.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” he said, tilting his head, “I should have clarified if you meant to send them now.”

“It’s definitely gonna take some getting use to if you make a habit of connecting to my phone, but nah, it doesn’t bother me.” you said, but Connor still looked skeptical so you continued,  “I’m a little jealous to be honest, woulda made reading those bricks easier if I knew you three years ago.”

“It is very efficient. However, no more so than any other academic assistant android you could have purchased then.”

You felt a twist in your chest at the way he said “purchased” so easily when you could tell by the faint grimace on his face that the idea was as disturbing now to him as a “deviant” as it was to you.

“I meant like a classmate,” you quickly added, “Like the way we are now.”

“You study urban planning, not philosophy. Perhaps I should browse those texts as well so we can have more “classmate” simulate conversations.” he said, tilting his head to the other side as if considering the idea further.

“We can always talk about you.” you said, “What do you like?”

His head tilted slightly further, he almost looked like a puppy when he did that, brown eyes soft and always, always curious.

“I enjoy solving cases with Hank-- Lieutenant Anderson. I enjoy calibrating my reflex drive with coin tricks. I like talking with--”

You held up a hand, “Whoa whoa, back up! Coin tricks?!”

Your sudden enthusiasm seemed to take him off guard, but within a moment he produced a quarter from his pocket. He let it slowly walk across his knuckles one way and then faster backwards. You watched, rapt in attention and smiling bright.

“What else?!” you asked and Connor gave a lopsided smile, standing up.

“I need a bit more room for this one. Okay. So-- first you flip.” he said and did so, flipping the coin up once in the air, “And then--”

He flicked it so fast from one hand directly into the other that you almost missed it. Your entire face broke open, “Ooooohh my god! Do that again!”

He was more than happy to oblige, this time flicking the coin back rapidly and then ending by catching it between two fingers.

“Okay you have got to teach that one to me.”

“I’m not sure if you’d be able to get it without a lot of practice, but-- here.” he took your hand in his, carefully directing you to hold your fingers in a scissor shape the way he had. His eyes were intensely focused as he moved you exactly where he needed, carefully stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips.

“Stand a bit more grounded.”

He nudged your shoe with his and you complied, hoping he wasn’t registering the heat rising up in your face. Was he holding on just a bit longer than was really even needed? A bit tighter? You could just barely feel the brush of his shirt at your back, leaning towards it.

“Don’t move.” he said, a soft command. You stood back up straight.

He came around to stand at your side, not even noticing the small gathering of people who were now watching the pair of you.

“Alright. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Just... hold… still.”

He paused, LED whirling for a moment before he flicked the coin and it found itself, trapped perfectly between your index and middle finger. You all but squealed, laughing with unbridled delight.

“That was so freakin’ cool! Can we do it again?”

But before Connor could take the coin from you, a man pushed over to the sitting area and scowled.

“Hey. No fuckin’ tin-can’s. Did you not see the sign lady?”

You were caught off guard, but Connor immediately straightened.

“Sign? There aren’t anymore signs.” you said, remembering that there was no tell tale red sign with a blue triangle issuing that androids were not allowed when you entered.

“There should be. There was. Now we gotta deal with these plastic freaks acting like they own the damn city.”

He looked Connor up and down with measured disgust, eyes lingering on the LED that was quickly flashing yellow.

“You should keep your pet at home.” the man continued, “You don’t see people bringing their dogs where others eat.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to please return to your table.” Connor’s voice was more mechanical than you had heard it before, measured and even, despite the yellow light flickering.

“I detect levels of ethanol on your breath. A bit early for a nightcap, isn’t it?” Connor continued and the man’s expression switched quickly to shocked and then pissed.

“Keep your fuckin’ eyes off me, freak.” he said, shoving Connor, who did not even move a fraction. “Public intoxication is a misdemeanor under Section 750.168 of the Michigan penal code. I advise you take your coffee home, sir, and sober up .” Connor said, standing up way too far into this guy’s space to be mistaken for anything but an invitation that said, Hit me, do it. I dare you.

You moved forward, quickly slipping your arm between the two men, curling it around Connor’s abdomen. You slid your entire body between them, the asshole guy stepping back.

“Hey, he’s a cop . See?” you pushed aside Connor’s jacket, displaying the DPD badge on his hip.

“You wanna add assaulting an officer to that rap sheet he’s already typing up from his head?”

The guy noted the badge and despite his initial aggression, he took a step back.

“Whatever, bitch.”

You sighed, relieved he was backing off, until Connor lurched forward from behind you. You spun around, pushing your palms flat against his chest. He didn’t resist you, but he didn’t take his eyes off the guy either.

“Apologize to her.” he said, each word punctuated with rigid coldness, LED flashing red.

“Fuck you and your plastic-fuckin’ girlfriend.”

“Hey!” a voice drew all three of your attention up to a barista wearing a different uniform than the others, designating her a manager, “How about you all take a breather somewhere else before I call the real cops?”

“Fine.” you said, pushing back at Connor who had stepped forward again trying to outmaneuver you.

“It’s a nice sunny day and I’m not a fan of the smell of shit and espresso.” you said, giving the guy a glare of your own. You took Connor’s hand, ignoring any comments from anyone else as you headed out the door. Connor didn’t fight you, but walked briskly away from the coffee shop to the point it was now like he was leading you.

His grip was tight, unrelenting. His LED was still a vivid circle of red. Once you were far enough away, you dug your heels in and released his hand. He stopped, but still held on. He snapped his eyes to yours, looking confused and just so-- lost. Like he wasn’t even sure where he was or where he was going.

You didn’t even know where to start.

“… Connor, I am so sorry.”

What else could you say? You were the stupid one who invited him there. His brows furrowed tightly, anger still twitching in his lips as he shook his head.

“Don’t.” he said, voice strained, “Don’t apologize for them .”

His jaw was tight, working and unclenching. He was rubbing your hand in his own, a tick similar to his coin. People walked around you as you both were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, giving Connor nervous glances as they passed. He noticed finally and stepped to the side, filing into an empty alley facing the street.

“I need a minute.” he said, his pulmonary functions attempting to slow. You stepped closer, reaching up to gently touch his back. You stroked up once.

“Of course, just… take all the time you need.”

He was tense, every carbon fiber cord in his body ready to respond, to act. His LED began flickering, slowly turning yellow and holding.

“It’s becoming more common.” he said, disappointment evident in his voice.

“I’d say it was always common, people feeling safe to express their stupidity has just gotten worse.”

“Not that.” he said, sighing, “My… temper. Hank says I have a temper .”

A deviant android with a quick fuse, that wasn’t entirely unheard of, but yet Connor seemed disturbed more so by his own behavior than the other guys.

“I detected a significant jump in your pulse and breathing rate. You were upset. I upset you.” Connor said, going to release your hand. You snapped it back up before he could, squeezing tight.

“Connor. Look at me.”

He did.

“I wasn’t upset because of you, I was upset for you.” you said, searching his eyes, making sure you confirmed his understanding before you continued, “That guy was being a grade A dickhead and I… I made you show me those tricks and it just drew all that attention to you. It’s dumb and it’s unfair , but I should have known better.”

“I wanted to show you.” Connor said, insistent, “I knew it would make you smile. I… like that. When you were asking what I like. I like receiving positive feedback from you. It’s very informative.”

That got a laugh from you, quiet and resigned.

“Like that. I don’t know how I got you to do that, but I’m attempting to work it out. So far the data has been inconsistent.”

“Really?” you said, “How so?”

“You laugh even when I am actually not trying to be humorous.” Connor said, as if you were a bit silly for not knowing.

“You’re a funny guy.”

“Hank would say otherwise.”

Connor’s LED had returned to blue, holding steady.

“Your temperature is dropping. You should be getting home so you can warm up.”

“No.” you said, grinning. This time when he furrowed his brow it was not as sharp.

“Your current core temperature is not a debatable subject, ---. You are at 97.9 degrees.”

You hummed, “So question. When you do that, are you scanning my entire body or just the surface temperature?”

Connor opened his mouth, thought better, and then it closed it. You swore if he could blush he would be. You inclined your head expectantly.

“What else does the scan pick up?” you asked, both curious and enjoying the look of semi-panic rushing over Connor’s features. The blue LED flickered just for a moment.

“I know that you have not eaten in the last four hours and will begin to feel hunger pains in approximately the next twenty to thirty minutes.” he stated matter-of-factly, “You have a healed fracture on your left ankle, most likely from rolling it sometime within the last two years. Also, your pupils dilate when you look at me, indicating that you find me aesthetically pleasing.”

“Ho-kay.” you said, interrupting him and snatching your hand back, “You had me at the beginning there, I’ll admit.”

“Did I successfully embarrass you, ---?” Connor said, putting his hands into his pockets and following after you with a renewed smugness.

“Um. That’s such cheating. I can’t control my pupils!”

“Of course. I understand it is not conscious. Besides. I was designed to be pleasing .”

“Yeah? Then I’m gonna need you to tell me where to file a product complaint.”

Connor laughed and it sounded so human it infected your own smile.

“”Hello, yes Cyberlife?”, you continued, using your hand to mimic a phone, “”Do you take constructive criticism? Because your RK800 model is becoming a royal pain in my ass.””

“I’ve never had a bad review in my life!” he asserted, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“That’s because you’ve only been alive for seven months! God. You’re an infant. I am literally on a date with an infant.”

Your laughter subsided when you noted Connor was no longer part of the chorus, turning to look at him, you found his own eyes trailed on you with the barest of smiles.

“This has been… different. Good, but different.” he said, choosing the words carefully, “I’d like to do it again.”

“Yeah, yeah, you smug bastard. You probably already know I’m going to say “yes” by the micro expressions of my eyebrows or some crap.”

Your joke was cut short as Connor stepped forward, gingerly reaching up and letting his hand trace the side of your face, thumb rubbing in gentle circles for a moment over the spot right next to your brow. His eyes were hooded, intent.

“No. I don’t think I see anything.”

He was so close-- god damn him for being so close. You couldn’t read his face at all on whether he was being serious right now or was being a tease. The LED light on his temple gave nothing away in it’s blue aura.

“Wait...right there.”

You felt your breath catch.

“I detect the forming of premature wrinkles.”

“Oh, you asshole. ”

You swatted at him, but he was too fast, dodging out of range with a school boy grin.

“I’m freezing and I’m hungry and I think you need to go home and think about what you’ve done.” you said, crossing your arms against the frigid breeze.

“I told you all of those things a minute ago.” Connor said, returning to arms reach long enough to offer his hand in what you assumed was to be a handshake. You scoffed and submitted, letting him take your hand again lightly. He squeezed and let go.

“I’ll text you later.” he said, mirroring your own words. For a moment it almost felt so normal. Just a boy and a girl on a date. It hadn’t turned out to be what you expected, but that was something you were beginning to think you could live with.

“You better.”

When had it become so hard to concentrate? You rapt your stylus against your desk, oblivious to the crowd and the constant hum of conversation as people moved around the facility. You hadn’t heard back anything from Josh regarding the files you brought, in fact, you hadn’t seen an android inside the DCRU office in several days. You leaned back in your chair, hoping to catch a glimpse but instead found yourself looking right into the pencil skirt of London Fog-- aka your supervisor, Miranda.

“You interested in getting out of here?” she asked, curly brown hair tied back in a bun. You think she must been a librarian in a past life based on how she dressed. Nothing else would explain those cat eye glasses.

“Depends.” you said, voice wary. She laughed, because honestly you didn’t have too much choice in it.

“We’re doing a quick run through. We’ve gotten reports that there have been some break ins through the fence perimeter around the--” she stopped, trying to avoid the word “camp” like most people in charge. It was not a good connection to form.

“-- housing facilities. Just need to assess the damage and estimate cost. The androids asked specifically for the director to come, but she is busy elsewhere.” Miranda shrugged, “If I have an intern following me, I look more important!”

Ah, the director. Cinnamon dolce.

Knowing that there was not much more discussion to be had, you picked up your tablet and your coat.

“Where’s the damage?” you asked, voice weary.

“We’ve got a ride to the other side of the facility all lined up for us.” Miranda said, flicking through some documents and sending them to your tablet.

“It’ll be a good learning opportunity!”

Sure. Yay. Fence maintenance.

By the time you arrived it became very obvious that this was not some accidental damage or wear-and-tear, this was a full on someone-took-pliers-to-the-fence-and-cut-a-hole damage. You recognized Josh out of the crowd of humans and androids. He gave you a faint smile and then turned his attention to Miranda.

“Was it a break out?” she asked, earning a narrow look from Josh.

“We’re not prisoners here. Everyone knows they can come and go as they please.” Josh said, voice edged with warning.

“So break in?” Miranda said, confirming to herself. You flipped to the incident report she sent to your tablet and began to jot down notes.

“It would appear so. But nothing was taken. No one has seen anyone strange around the homes either.”

The “homes” for lack of a better word, were simple modular buildings, stacked in sets of three with outside stair railings. A few androids stood on said stairs, peering over the side down at them. The entire facility sat in an old parking lot formerly used by GM back in the late 2000s. It had been sitting vacant for years now and taken by the government for use in the re-homing process.

The modular homes were efficient, if not always “cozy”. The androids were able to file comfort requests, but you’d seen the stacks. It was hard to imagine it was easy to get much of anything, but it was safe . Safer than outside, where humans might attack an android on the street. Here there were soldiers and fences that were meant to keep the outside world out, not them in.

Markus would have not accepted anything less.

“I don’t like that. Have the military units informed to be looking for someone who doesn’t belong and pull any CCTV footage from this area.” Miranda said, stepping forward and examining the fence more closely.

“Tracks say three people!” a voice yelled from above. There was a young looking blond man, standing at the very top of the modular complex. He quickly made his way down, easily constructing a safe path to the ground.

Josh smiled with familiarity, taking the hand offered to him by the man warmly.

“When did you get back into the city?”

“A few days ago. Glad to be back though. D.C. is somehow even colder.”

Miranda turned her attention back towards the two men, greeting the newcomer with nothing more than a faint nod.

“Simon. You said three people?”

Simon nodded, pointing to a variety of spots that now showed traces of mud and slush disturbance.

“Three. They circled in, came this way…”

He moved ahead, heading behind the modular unit. There was a good fifteen feet between it’s back and the fence.

“Then this way. Stopped here, but then one set of tracks keeps going while the other two circle back.” Simon’s eyes narrowed, giving Josh a strange look.

“Something isn’t right. I smell--”

A flash. Blinding and loud. So loud that suddenly your ears were filled with unbearable ringing. You felt your feet lift from the ground, heat bursting across your skin. There were quick flicks of pain, as if a hail storm had pelted you. And then you found the ground again, hitting hard to the concrete as the ringing just kept on. Something heavy fell on your chest, knocking the wind from you.

Your vision blurred, arms shaking as you tried to find something, anything to hold onto to make the world stop spinning. Someone was ontop of you, arms curled around your frame. The smell of thirium and smoke was thick in your nostrils and when your vision came to, there was blue andJosh.

All cradled in a backdrop of red flames.

[sidneycrosbyisawitch]

keep the fire burning.

“why,” mitch asks, as they’re leaving dubas’ office, “would you say that?”

he has a button up hastily thrown on over his t-shirt in an attempt to look more presentable when they got called up. called up because of auston, and he knows his own contrasting grimy t-shirt and two-day stubble didn’t escape their future gm’s notice.

dubas didn’t come right out and say that it was because of auston’s comments, but the message was clear, either way. you went rogue. you need to shut up. dubas isn’t lou; he smiles more, listens more, but his word is still law. he’ll smile and nod and laugh along with you, but at the end of the day, the smile is just his way of making sure his words pack a full punch.

“we’re going off message,” he’d smiled. “we have a big off season coming up. let’s keep that in mind. go on vacation, spend time with your families. we have enough press, keep things tight.”

his lips were upturned, easy and personable. “what do they say in philadelphia? trust the process?” he’d said it with a laugh, and looked right at auston, because both of them know mitch isn’t the problem. “trust the process, guys.”

fuck you, auston thought.

mitch laughed. because he’s charming and easygoing and, yeah, trusting.

auston knows the media is going nuts right now. some beat reporter said babcock “lost” him, people are calling for jake’s head on a platter, and now they’re demanding a place for mitch on the top line next year. “but i’m not making the lineup decisions” is being dissected six ways from sunday.  

“i said it,” auston says, shrugs, “because i meant it. we should play together.”

mitch huffs out a frustrated breath, but still can’t help smiling. he hits the button for the ground level.

“don’t.” mitch shakes his head, stares at the elevator floor lights counting its ascent, but there’s no way he doesn’t feel auston’s eyes on him.

there’s only so many times auston can have this conversation. usually they’ve been drinking, and auston can’t hold it back.

(auston pulls mitch close in the booth, arm around his shoulders. “imagine,” auston says, wet lips on the curve of mitch’s ear, “what we could do if we played together.”

mitch grins, bright eyed and toothy. “we’d be fucking awesome.”

“let’s do it.”

mitch laughs like it’s a joke.)

(”you’re going to be Queen,” auston says, as mitch pours him into the hotel bed.

mitch snorts, yanks auston’s shoes off. “you’re going to be hungover,” he sing-songs, sweet and offkey like a tipsy songbird.

“that goal, mitchy. that’s a chel goal.”

just the soft light from the bathroom filters into the room and illuminates mitch’s wicked little grin, tongue poking at the corner of his mouth as he says, “it was so sick.”

auston spreads his arm across the bed. “stay with me.”

mitch fits perfectly, curled against his side, head resting where auston’s K will be.)

“okay,” auston says, for the thousandth time in this situation.

mitch looks at him. “it’s not that i don’t want to play together. it’s just not worth getting called into the fucking principal’s office every time we,” he shakes his head and corrects himself, “every time you feed the rumor mill.”

“okay,” auston says again.

mitch nudges his shoulder against auston’s, his smile soft and private. “we’ll get to play together, just wait.”

the elevator dings, and auston slides his hand to the small of mitch’s back and rubs the dimple there, just briefly. “yeah, mitchy,” he says. “i know.”

“alright, then shut the fuck up and stop getting me in trouble.”

it’s auston’s turn to grin like he’s joking. “no promises.”

--

when he gets the call that babcock is coming to arizona to meet with him, he’s on the golf course and not even remotely surprised. the leafs are playing damage control on a couple different fronts, and auston’s sure they’ve already told the media the coach is on his way south.

his mom fusses at him to set the table with the nice dishware and auston doesn’t bother fighting back a grin at how familiar it is. he feels like he’s 15 again. except, this time, his world renowned NHL coach is just casually dropping in for dinner to prove a point to the relentless toronto media.

was auston unhappy about how the boston series played out? absolutely. was he pissed off at babcock? yeah, probably. auston would say he was pissed off, maybe more than the other guys. after months of being politely told he wasn’t going to get to play with mitch, getting injured, then getting injured again, and being held off the ice in the playoffs. yeah… he’d been more than a little pissed. at babcock, at management, at himself.

lost might have been a strong word, but it wasn’t very far off.

babcock arrives in a sensible black SVU rental, wearing a hockey canada t-shirt, and shakes auston’s dad’s hand, kisses his mom on the cheek, and thanks her for dinner multiple times.

“if your future King doesn’t respect your coach, he has to go. he has to go,” was a popular talking point on sportsnet, but auston knows the leafs have no plans of replacing babcock anytime soon. but that doesn’t mean there isn’t leverage in having toronto’s media on your side, and auston keeps that in mind when he grabs two beers after dinner and heads out to the patio with babcock.

arizona summer nights are a little cooler and the sky stretches out dark and uninterrupted. the tile is still a little bit warm under auston’s bare feet when he pops both the caps and hands one to babcock.

“thank you mother for me, again, auston. i appreciate the hospitality and the dinner,” babs says, all tight-lipped canadian politeness, and doesn’t say anything about auston being under the legal american drinking age as he takes a sip.

“it’s really no problem, babs. we’re happy to have you.” auston keeps his face impassive and sips his own beer.

babs sits back, rests the bottle on his knee. “hell of a season you had. hell of a season for the whole team, even if it didn’t end how we’d like.”

auston shrugs. “shit happens. we’ll be better next season.”

babs purses his lips and, after a moment, nods. “big changes coming up. big, good changes, and we want you to be a part of that.”

“why?” auston asks, just to hear him say it. just to hear that the leafs expect him to be crowned King.

“you’re a leader on this team,” babs says, instead, and it’s such a bullshit media answer. auston exhales sharply through his nose and looks over the still dark water of the pool and the whir of the filter.

“i know you weren’t happy with how boston went,” babs continues. “none of us were. i made decisions that i thought were right at the time, but there are a lot of ways to play the game.”

mitch played amazing hockey, auston wants to say, and you wouldn’t let me do jackshit. his shoulder still hurts sometimes, but he would have ripped it out of its socket if given the chance if it meant making it to round two.

“i know,” auston says, instead. even and well-trained. “we have a lot of talent in the lineup. we’ll do better next year.”

babs squints at him. he knows media bullshit when he hears it. “what do you want out of next season, auston?”

“to play with mitch,” he answers, automatically.

babcock almost chuckles, tight-lipped. “you’ve made yourself clear on that one.”

“i mean it.” auston sits up straighter, half unconscious of it. “if i’m going to be crowned King, i want to play with mitch. he’s going to be Queen,” he says it with unwavering confidence, “and we should play together.”

babs shakes his head, just a little bit. “may i ask what’s wrong with willy?”

“nothing. he just isn’t going to be my Queen,” auston answers, honestly.

willy’s an amazing teammate and linemate, but he isn’t mitch.

“look.” babcock clasps his hands and rests his elbows on his knees. “you know i’m not in charge of those kinds of decisions.”

“but you have a say.”

“i have a say,” babs concedes. “and i know you’ve been told more than once to stop reading your own press, so i’ll spare you that.”

“appreciate it,” auston forces himself to smile a tight, media smile.

“future King or not, you’re important to the team, and so is mitch. let’s agree to see how everything shakes out at training camp, eh?”

“that’s not an answer.”

“this off-season is a busy one. the line-up is going to change.” babs gestures with his hands. “maybe significantly. and kyle is going to be announced as the new gm soon. maybe with new faces in the front office, we’ll see some movement on what you’re asking for. if you want something, earn it in training camp. right now, all i can tell you is that we’ll see what’s best for the team when we’re back on the ice. can you agree to that?”

this… was never about giving auston what he wanted, he realizes. this was about a soundbite for the media and making it clear who was making the lineup decisions. and what is auston going to say, no? no, i don’t agree to do what’s best for the team? a King’s job is to always make his team better. auston breathes in and out through his nose. rubs his thumb over the condensation on his virtually untouched beer bottle.

all he can think about it mitch at the beginning of the season. he was trying so hard and nothing was working, and when babs announced the rush lines, mitch was on the right with moore and martin. auston felt the shock of it, even if he didn’t show it.

mitch just nodded in confirmation, as though it was normal for him to be on the fourth line.

auston spat on the ice as they broke into their lines just to have something to do with the twisting, itching feeling under his skin.

“let’s go, mouse!” marty called, passing mitch the puck, and mitch laughed. as if it meant nothing, getting demoted.

auston snapped his stick on his next shot and relished the crack of it in his hands.

mitch drew smiley faces on the palms of his gloves, and he went out to the hungry media and told them he wanted to contribute to the team, wherever he plays doesn’t matter. “you just have to build it back and make sure you’re working hard every day,” he said with a smile.

it made auston want to put his fists through something. he pulled on his gear in jerky movements. it felt unfamiliar, the temper simmering within him. he always had more to prove on the ice than anyone else, but it bred a determined, focused kind of anger. nothing like this need to tear things down until they were fair and right.

mitch didn’t belong on the fourth, but he bore it with a bright grin and outworked everyone else on the team. babcock made that lineup decision.

they lost 4-6 to the blues, but mitch got marty a three assist night, and every time the two of them celebrated like it was game winning goal. auston watched from the bench as matt looked at mitch, screaming celebration, as if he was magic, awe in his eyes.

auston couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it was sometime soon after that game that he started to feel the weight of his inevitable Kingship. it was always something distant. a clinical knowledge of “one day i’ll be King of the toronto maple leafs.” sometime far in the future.

watching mitch fall asleep in willy’s bed after a short post-game night out, mouth open, pillow crease already stark on his cheek, auston wanted the K. maybe not right now, but he was ready for it.

“y’all can sleep there,” willy said, grinning. “i’ll crash with zach.”

“don’t say y’all,” auston said. “you sound like a horror movie hick.”

willy snorts. “y’all can cuddle,” he drawled.

auston flipped him off, and was just liquid enough to say, “i don’t need your permission to cuddle my Queen.”

willy’s mouth popped open in obnoxious delight, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “oh ho ho, by all means,” he gestured to the bed, “have at it, King Matthews. don’t actually fuck in my bed, though. that’s,” he crinkles his nose, “going too far.”

auston crawled into the plush duvet, ignoring willy, and curled behind mitch. he felt the rise and fall of mitch’s sharp shoulder blades against his chest and wrapped his arm around mitch’s small but solid waist.

yeah, he wanted to be King.

they woke up cotton-mouthed and gross-feeling, wrapped together, and they went back out there with mitch on the fourth line, again.

auston played with that anger simmering under his skin, ready to burst all season.

it took losing in game seven to the boston fucking bruins.

babcock looks at auston expectantly.

auston media-smiles, vacant and cutting. “absolutely. see you training camp. i’ll look forward to showing you why we’re the best decision.”

babs looks at him for a long moment. the desert night is quiet, and the dim patio lights reflect faintly in the pool surface. inside, auston can see his mom loading the dishwasher.

he nods definitively, as if to say ‘okay, good enough’ and holds out his hand to shake. auston clasps it.

“i look forward to it, too.” he sits back and holds out his beer to clink bottles.

auston paces himself, even though the clawing, furious feeling in his chest urges him to chug it down and immediately follow it with another.

“now,” babs says, “i haven’t heard how breyana’s golf tournament went.”

auston rubs his lips together and nods. this is what Kings do. they do the hard stuff, even when they don’t want to.

after babs leaves, with another handshake and a promise to see him at training camp, auston finds his way to the kitchen.

his mom tsks as he drains another beer in one go.

“empty calories,” she chides.

“it’s the off-season, mom.”

“i’m not saying you shouldn’t drink,” she starts, and stops as auston steps behind her at the sink and rests his forehead on her shoulder. she smells like lavender detergent and homecooking.

she reaches to cup the back of his head. “okay, papi?” she asks, softly.

auston breathes. no, he wants to say, but that’s not quite true.

he’s been burning up all year, and he’s ready to fight.

“i think i’m ready to be King,” he says into her shoulder.

“oh!” she says, bright and surprised. 

she turns around suddenly to kiss his forehead, cradling his jaw in her hands. “of course you are! that’s what they all said when you were drafted.” her eyes shine when she looks up at him, mouth quirked in a smile. “i’m proud of you.”

auston ducks his head, helpless to the grin spreading across his face. “they haven’t given it to me yet, but... mitchy should be Queen.”

her face goes soft in a way that makes him look away for a second. it’s too much. “mitch is going to be a great Queen,” she says, gently. “even i can tell.”

“the team doesn’t see it like that.”

her brows furrow immediately in disbelief. “what do you mean? they’ve been talking about mitchell being Queen since you were drafted. they’ve asked me about it!”

auston shakes his head, but there’s a well of bubbling relief escaping from his chest. his mom sees it. maybe there’s a part of you that never grows out of your mom’s approval being the best feeling on the fucking planet. his eyes crinkle as he laughs. the team might as well have been telling him that mitch won’t be Queen all season. hell, for the past two seasons. but they’re wrong.

“the media has, but not the team.”

her eyes widen, then narrow at the distinction. “they’re stupid.”

auston laughs, sudden and loud, and he feels it with his whole body.

“it’s okay,” he says, and he means it this time. “i’m gonna make it happen, anyways.”

she rubs his bicep. “you always do, auston.”

auston knows how to work hard, and all of toronto’s on his side. she’s right. he always makes it happen.

--

he hops in the shower after helping clean up the kitchen and his second beer. it may be the off season, but his mom’s right. it’s empty calories, and he still has training tomorrow, and auston tries to refrain from downing shots at his parents’ house, just on principle.

not that he needs it, he just has this weird energy floating in his chest. he’s going to be King, and he’s going to get mitchy on his line. he feels like he did going into game six. ready for a fight he knew he was going to win.

“hey, mitchy,” auston says as mitch’s face pops up on his screen as he gets out of the shower, and he feels his face shaping a grin he can’t control. standing under the water helped some of the strange almost-adrenaline, but there’s still something too big in his chest when he looks at mitch on his phone screen.

mitch’s lying on a couch with winston’s head pillowed on his chest. he looks good, the flush of sunburn on his cheekbones from spending the last couple days at his family’s lakehouse. it kind of lights up the blue of his eyes even more. admittedly, it’s not one of his better angles for filming, but he’s smiling, a little bit of sun-tiredness creeping along the edges.

“how’d your date with babs go?” he asks, scratching behind winston’s ear. “you guys kiss and make up?”

“you steal that joke from twitter?” auston asks, propping his phone on his dresser and toweling at his hair. “and why are you up, it’s, what, almost two am there?”

“no, i stole it from naz. and i called for the free nudes, obviously.” his tongue pokes out as he grins.

“nice.” auston pulls on a pair of boxers as mitchy wolf whistles, low and sarcastically, as if they haven’t seen it all a thousand times over in the locker room.

auston snags his phone from its perch and gets into bed, propping his pillows on his headboard so he can sit up and facetime like a normal human, unlike mitchell “up the nose” marner.

“babs was fine. mom made dinner, we talked. everything’s,” he shrugs, “fine.”

mitch’s eyebrows draw together, then he lets out an involuntary “oof” as winston shifts in his sleep.

“you okay there?” auston smirks. “the dog’s bigger than you, he’s going to crush you.”

“shut up, no he’s not.” mitch scratches winston’s head, and auston wants to just… reach out and brush the hair off his forehead. “you wouldn’t crush the person who loves you most in this world, right?”

“why are you up so late?” auston asks, starting to feel his own day catch up with him despite the warmth in his chest.

mitch rubs his eyes and the little swoops of sunburn. “i fell asleep on the couch after jet skiing and now i can’t go back to bed.” he cocks his head and really looks at auston, eyebrows drawing together again. just briefly, it reminds auston of his mom. “the meeting with babs was really fine?”

“yeah. he asked what was wrong with willy and answering that question took pretty much the whole night, so...”

mitch’s ugly laugh bursts out of his chest. he throws his head back to cackle deep in his throat. auston can’t stop smiling. he rubs his thumb under his lip and enjoys mitch losing it for a solid minute.

winston shifts around grumpily, giving the camera an almost baleful look, before huffing and sliding off mitch and out of frame.

mitch wipes at his shining eyes. “that’s too big a question for just one night.”

“i’ll text him the rest of your suggestions tomorrow.” the warmth in auston’s chest is molten and perfect. he slides down the pillows and settles. “otherwise, i just said we’ll be ready for training camp and prove we’re the future. that’s all. no drama.”

mitch rolls on his side, and auston can just picture the way he’s bringing his knees up to his chest until he looks like a little ball. his 16 pendant spills over the collar of his tank top. he smiles, proud. “of course you’re the future, auston. who else would be?”

“we are.”

“we all are.”

“yeah,” auston says, after a moment. mitch’s eyes look so blue. he’s right, even if that’s not what auston means. “we all are.”

“the thing i filmed for youtube came out today,” mitch says, crossing his top arm over his chest like he’s cold.

auston laughs. “your red bull sponsored medieval times adventure?”

mitch cheeses a wide smile and gives him a thumbs up. “it gives you wings and free tickets to jousting.”

“oh my fucking god.” auston feels his laugh all through his chest. “get a blanket, you look cold.”

mitch gropes behind his back for a moment before he reaches the throw blanket folded over the top of the couch, and pulls it over his shoulders. his eyes are starting to droop.

“i’ll watch it and take notes. text babs what’s wrong with you and willy tomorrow.”

mitch laughs into the couch cushions, eyes crinkling and laugh lines deep as he does. “thanks, bro. just what i want.”

when he looks at auston, still smiling, eyes soft and framed by too much sun, auston suddenly wants nothing more than to be in toronto, curled up behind mitch. he loves arizona, but he’d leave it in a heartbeat if meant pressing his nose into the nape of mitch’s neck and smelling his terrible axe shampoo and the remnants of sunscreen and mitch’s mom’s sweet, subtle laundry detergent. pulling him close to sleep like they do in hotel beds when they’ve had too much fun or when one of them doesn’t want to go home for pre-game nap. i wish i was there, auston wants to say.

“go to sleep, mouse,” he says instead, fondness spilling over every word.

“you too, matts.” mitch blows him an exaggerated and sleepy kiss. “good night.”

“night,” auston says, softly, and ends the call.

before he goes to sleep, he pulls up the video with the youtuber kid on his phone. mitch looks great, all speed and power and fun on the ice. mitch has always been auston’s favorite to watch, even back at the beginning two years ago. the shit he does is magic sometimes. but when the kid casually introduces mitch as the future Queen of the toronto maple leafs, mitch bends away, laughing. auston picks up on the barely perceptible shake of his head as he laughs. it’s conditioned at this point, his need to deny that statement.

auston’s going to make sure he never has to do that again.  

--

the first month of the off-season feels like summer vacation from when he was a kid. really that was just a few years ago, but it seems decades removed from now. it’s great seeing his mom and eating good food and catching up on netflix with his sisters.

he calls the new leafs prospects after the draft and trains, but it’s mostly a lot of golfing and going to the pool. the sun and the heat are a nice change from the months spent in perpetually cloudy toronto, and auston feels like he looks a little more alive now that his skin is bronzing over.

his mom purses her lips exaggeratedly every time he comes home from a sitting for his sleeve with his arm wrapped and freshly tattooed.

“you’re so beautiful, i don’t understand why you do this to yourself,” she says.

auston and bre share a grin across the kitchen table, like they do every time auston gets a new tattoo and makes their mom sad.

she tucks her hair behind her ears and holds her hands up as if to stop herself.

“some of them are for you,” auston points out, and taps his collarbone.

her face goes soft. “yes, and they’re beautiful, too.”

bre scoffs. “he’s trying to look like a badass, not beautiful. i mean, he’s failing, but that’s the objective.”

“what, he can’t be badass and beautiful at the same time, breyana?” their mom questions, and auston grins. he’s always known he was her favorite.

freddie calls after worlds, after denmark is eliminated, and it has to fucking smart to have already weathered back to back eliminations while there are still teams playing for the cup.

“want to make the trip to california?” he asks.

auston doesn’t say no to freddie or the beach. “of course, dude,” he confirms. “see you there.”

he packs his bags and takes an overnight flight. when he walks out of the airport, the anaheim sun is morning-bright and he ubers to freddie’s beach house. it’s not huge, but it’s sand dollar white and right on the pacific, so close you can hear the steady conch shell crush of the waves.

freddie comes to the door in swim trunks and bare feet, and his light freckles are already standing out more across the bridge of his nose.

“hey, man,” auston says, clapping freddie’s shoulder as they hug. “i’m sorry, good to see you.”

“it’s just worlds, right?” freddie says, when he pulls back and shows auston to his room. they both know he means the exact opposite. if you’re there at all, you’re there to compete to be the best. especially if your home country is hosting.

“you won’t be there next year,” auston says, dropping his duffel on the floor, because they’re going to make it past the first fucking round next season.

freddie crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, amused smile on his lips.

“i know,” he says, simply, in that steady way of his. “get ready and we’ll go down.” he nods at auston’s freshly finished sleeve. “i’m guessing that needs to stay out of the water.”

“guess i’ll just have to look hot out there,” auston smirks.

freddie raises his eyebrows. “good luck.”

it’s the middle of a weekday, so the beach isn’t crowded when they settle in. one of the things he appreciates most about freddie has always been the way he just doesn’t give a fuck about things that don’t matter. the same serene confidence he exudes in net carries through off the ice. once sydney explained the concept of auras, how people can sense the energy you give off because we’re all connected. they were a couple drinks in and mitch ate it up with wide eyes, while auston and matt laughed it off.

“shhh, don’t listen to them,” she’d drunk loud-whispered in mitch’s ear. “they have ugly auras.”

mitch squinted at them with one eye. “yeah, i see it. fuck ugly auras.”

maybe there’s something to be said about it, after all, auston thinks out of nowhere, sitting on the beach with freddie in comfortable silence, staring into the blue-green rolling waves of the pacific. there’re very few people who give off a better energy than freddie.

auston can’t imagine going back to face this coming season without freddie standing tall behind him. his heart thumps, suddenly realizing being a King means leading a Kingship. it means the team is all yours.

auston stares along the horizon, where the sea disappears into the sky, and breathes.

“i’m going to be King,” auston says into the silence and the gentle crush of waves. a simple truth, released into the universe.

freddie looks at him from behind his sunglasses for a long moment.

“heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he murmurs. auston shrugs. “that’s what they say.”

yeah, he thinks. but i’m ready for it.

--

it’s not long after auston gets back to arizona after a week in anaheim that he gets the call, phone lighting up with dubas’ name on the golf course. auston answers immediately.

“sorry to interrupt your offseason,” dubas starts, polite canadian smile practically audible. for all the shit auston’s given the front office the last couple months with his unauthorized comments, he really likes dubas. the guys who came up through the marlies have nothing but respect for him, and auston trusts them, even if dubas has been the face of the wagging finger recently.

“no worries,” auston assures him, leaning his clubs against the golf cart and looking over the dips and flats of the unnaturally green course.

“we’ve begun talks with john tavares about signing here in toronto as a free agent,” dubas says.

it’s only auston’s media training that keeps him from blurting out holy shit. everyone expected tavares would sign an extension in long island. he’s King there and… King’s always re-sign. auston would have to google the last time a King willingly left his Kingship. it just never happens.

“he’s expressed an interest in playing with our young core. in fact, it’s one of the biggest factors influencing his decision making process,” dubas continues. “we’d appreciate it if you would reach out to him, let him know what the organization is all about and what you think he can contribute to the team.”

“of course,” auston says, automatically. “i’d be happy to. he’d be a great addition, his play is incredible.”

“awesome, auston,” dubas laughs, the tiniest thread of youthful excitement poking through his professionalism. “his number will be in your texts shortly.”

he gives an auston a brief rundown of the talking points he should hit, and auston hangs up grinning through the shock because holy fucking shit. they might be rolling out him, tavares, and kadri as their top three centers next season and auston has to take a moment to laugh to himself in excited disbelief. fuck getting past the first round, auston can’t wait.

his phone buzzes with a text from mitch and the number from dubas in rapid succession. he opens mitch’s.

fu cking tavares???? it says, followed by a wall of maple leaf emojis.

not a done deal yet, auston texts back, partly as a reminder to himself, but he still can’t help but adding a maple leaf emoji too.

i kno, mitch says. i’m supposed to call him and woo him to our side.

auston grins so hard bre looks at him like he’s grown fangs when she gets back to the cart.

“you good?” she asks, clearly doubtful.

“great,” auston says. because he doesn’t have a way to explain how the toronto maple leafs asking mitch marner to reach out to a possible free agent means fucking everything to him. it means more than getting tavares. if he was on the ice he’d be beating the glass in celebration. mitch is going to be Queen.

me too, auston says. what are u gonna use for ur pitch? u gonna share ur skittles? that’ll get him.

i share skittles with no man. then, idk.. that i’ll s his d? idgaf he’s JOHN FUCKING TAVARES KING OF THE ISLANDERS.

auston barks out a laugh, tilting his face into the sun. mitchy is right… he’s john fucking tavares. it’s not every day you get this kind of chance. mitch follows it up with u should call him first, my 👑.

auston hits the call button automatically.

“hello, auston,” john’s low, toronto-accented voice answers after three rings. “nice to hear from you.”

“happy to talk to you, jt,” auston says, smoothly. “i heard you’re thinking of making the best move of your career and just wanted to help you out any way i can. we’d love to have you in toronto.”

john’s burbling laugh filters over the line. meanwhile, bre flips him off and restarts the cart to head to the next hole without auston. he waves sarcastically back.

“it’s hard not to love toronto when you were born there,” john agrees. “i wouldn’t mind finding out what you love about toronto, though.”

what doesn’t auston love about toronto. he loves its shitty weather and long winters. he loves the sea of leafs blue that cheers them on every night. he loves the challenge of picking his way through conniving media. he loves watching kids light up when they see him and mitch at timmy’s. he loves the city and the pressure to win and feeling at the end of the night when the lights dim and he skates into the middle of the arena because he was the best player on the ice and the crowd roars for him. almost loves it more when it’s one of his friends out there.

“you’ve seen our team, right?” auston asks, and he knows he sounds like a cocky shit, but in that moment he doesn’t rein it in.

“yeah. yeah, i have.”

he sounds like he fucking gets it.

there’s a couple more calls before july 1st hits, and mitch also racks up the minutes talking to tavares. auston feels a little like he might burst when mitch calls him after each conversation to recap.

“he’s going to be a leaf,” mitch declares on facetime, up late again, icing his shoulder because he fell off the dock the wrong way.

“maybe.”

auston grins when mitch’s face scrunches up in annoyance.

“why wouldn’t he? seriously?”

auston shrugs. he more than a little convinced that tavares is going to pull the trigger and go for toronto by the end of the week, in part because mitch’s so confident about it, but. “it’s probably pretty shitty to leave your Kingship behind?”

mitch is quiet for a moment, and he stares off somewhere above the camera. “yeah,” he says, finally. “should we be concerned about that? that he’s the type of person to kill his Kingship?”

auston had thought of that, wondered if in five years he would be able to walk away from toronto. it was impossible to imagine. shit happens, but there could never be enough shit to make him leave toronto. or mitch.

but tavares never had a Queen. maybe that’s the difference. auston has mitch.

“not if it makes us better, right?” auston suggests gently. “not if he’s committed to the team.”

mitch grins, head lolling to the side, exposing the long line of his neck and rolling out the soreness. auston’s eyes trace the line from his jaw to his sharp collarbone. if he was in toronto, he’d trace it with his fingertips. and dig his fingers into the fresh tan on mitch’s shoulders.

“think he still bleeds leafs blue?”

auston shakes his head. “only you love the leafs enough to bleed blue, mitchy.”

lips quirked and eyes intent, mitch smirks kindly. “you’ll get there.”

--

the news hits like a bomb. a deeply fucking satisfying bomb. the team group chat goes fucking nuts, which is nothing compared to the canadian sports media and twitter. there are people burning jerseys and calling jt a traitor. one person reportedly rips the K off a tavares jersey and throws it onto a pile of flaming garbage. auston doesn’t watch the videos, but the descriptions are insane enough.

plus, he’s too busy popping champagne on facetime with mitch.

“wooooohooooo,” mitch howls, the licks the overflowing champagne from his knuckles. “we got ‘im, boys!”

auston holds his phone with one hand and swigs from the bottle with the other. his family are high-fiving all around him, joining in the celebration.

his dad claps him on the shoulder and shakes him. “nice job, aus.”

“yeah,” mitch chimes in over the iphone speakers. he tips his glass towards the camera, and auston feels the distance between arizona and ontario so acutely. “really nice job.”

“you did just as much as me, and,” auston laughs, “dubas gave him the cash.”

“to kyle dubas!” mitch’s mom calls from the background. “a baby face with enough cash to land tavares!”

mitch laughs like he’s dying.

and that’s when the second bomb lands in the group chat.

looks like mitchy and zachy are moving to an all toronto line! travis posts, along with a link. and the other links start filtering in.

auston lowers his bottle to the coffee table, slowly, like he’s just waking up and walking through water to do it.

“tavares likely to play center with marner, hyman on maple leafs” the link preview shouts. and the article gets worse with every paragraph.

he almost closes out when they quote babcock saying auston was on board with bringing tavares on. not like this. he wanted tavares, but he sat across from babcock on his fucking porch and told him he wanted mitch on his line and was told he had to earn it.

“tavares was the islanders King from 2013-18 but maple leafs general manager kyle dubas said there is no rush to name a King this season,” he reads.

“in my experience with teams, when we've rushed decisions like that, it's turned out poorly for the organization… we want to see how the group works together and we'll see where we're at.” dubas said that, as if it’s up in the air.

he doesn’t register sitting down until he hits the couch.

“auston?” mitch’s voice comes through.

auston switches back to facetime in time to see mitch’s dad hand him his phone. in time to see mitch’s face fall with confusion. he glances up at auston, then back down to read.

tavares’ voice filters in from the sportsnet broadcast in the marner living room.

“i just felt like i had this once in a lifetime opportunity to play with the toronto maple leafs, and i had to take it. i’m grateful to everyone on long island who supported me and my Kingship. it wasn’t an easy decision. it was a very difficult decision, considering my team and everything we’ve been through there.”

“we’ve already talked about how growing up in toronto affected your decision, can you tell us a little more about what is was about the present leafs that made you want to sign?” the anchor asks.

“where the team is positioned, moving forward. it was an opportunity i couldn’t pass up. as a kid, you dream about achieving the ultimate goal with your hometown team, and this team can make it happen. all the young skill in marner, matthews, nylander, and everyone else.” he laughs. “i asked to play with marner, so we’ll see.”

auston stops listening at that point. tavares asked for mitch.

auston asked, too.

mitch hands the phone back to his dad, and his laugh comes out a little strangled. “uh, not really what we were thinking was gonna happen. but that’s okay.”

it’s fine. auston sits up straight and shakes his head at his mom’s worried look. he plasters a smile back on. he digs his fingers into the fabric of his shorts.

this is the same old front office bullshit. don’t give the media a real narrative to work with. keep everything as shrouded as possible.

not all Kings and Queens are lineys. most of them aren’t.

“mitch is amazing,” he remembers telling tavares on the phone, suddenly. “he’s creative, and he’s fast enough to keep up with all that creativity.”

“i’ve seen him score some goals,” tavares had said, his bland voice wry. “maybe i can see some from the other side.”

auston doesn’t blame him for wanting to play with mitch.

“just babs being babs, right?” auston laughs and shakes him head.

mitch’s worrying his lower lip. “maybe i actually let you convince me we were gonna play together this time. i’m kind of disappointed.” his smile is almost apologetic, almost turned down while still passing for a smile. “i shouldn’t be disappointed. john tavares just signed with us.”

auston’s fingers almost slip through the cold condensation on his bottle’s neck. he holds it up to toast. “we’re not disappointed,” he lies smoothly. he clinks the lip against his phone and mitch does the same. “congrats.”

“congrats,” mitch echoes, and they drink.

a King got everything he asked for. and it wasn’t auston.

[shafferangelina95]

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[esqreverblog]

“Cultural sexism in the world is very real when you’ve lived on both sides of the coin”

BY CHARLOTTE ALTER

Three guys are sitting at a Harlem bartop eating fries, drinking whiskey and talking about love. One of them, Bryce Richardson, is about to propose to his girlfriend.

“I’m putting it together in my head, I’m like: ‘He’s gonna be one of my groomsmen, he’s gonna be one of my groomsmen,’” he points to his two friends and grins. The other men light up when they hear the news and start talking about rings, how much they cost, will it be princess cut or pear shaped? Pictures are Googled, phones are passed around. “That was one of my dreams, to get married, to be somebody’s husband, to be somebody’s father,” says one of the friends, Redd Barrett. “From when I was like 12, I used to think about that all the time.”

I ask the groom-to-be how he knew his girlfriend was the one. They met at work, he says, and by the time he came out to her, they were already in love. “I said ‘I’m trans, and you’re not gonna want me anyway,” he recalls, unable to keep the smile off his face. “And she said ‘I’m in love with you, I don’t care about that.’” His friend Tiq nods and says, “That’s your wife, right there.”

All three men are trans. But if they hadn’t said so, you wouldn’t have known.

Over the last three years, transgender awareness has exploded. From Orange is the New Black to Transparent, from Janet Mock to Caitlyn Jenner, America has a growing fascination with the lives of transgender people, most recently in light of recent debates over controversial bathroom laws. But the spotlight on trans issues has mostly been focused on transgender women, and transgender men have been largely left out of the narrative. Our cultural obsession with feminine beauty contributes to the imbalance. “Women’s appearances get more attention, women’s actions are commented on and critiqued more than men, so in that world it just makes sense that people will focus more on trans women than trans men,” says Julia Serano, a transgender activist and author of Whipping Girl. (Because most surveys ask people to identify as male or female but not cisgender or transgender, the size of the transgender population in America is unclear, though one study suggests there are about 700,000 trans people in the U.S.; it’s nearly impossible to know how many of them are trans men.)

Yet experiences of trans men can provide a unique window into how gender functions in American society. In the last few months, I’ve interviewed nearly two dozen trans men and activists about work, relationships and family. Over and over again, men who were raised and socialized as female described all the ways they were treated differently as soon as the world perceived them as male. They gained professional respect, but lost intimacy. They exuded authority, but caused fear. From courtrooms to playgrounds to prisons to train stations, at work and at home, with friends and alone, trans men reiterated how fundamentally different it is to experience the world as a man.

“Cultural sexism in the world is very real when you’ve lived on both sides of the coin,” says Tiq Milan, a friend of the future groom.

And that cultural sexism is often more visible to trans men, because most say they find it easier to be low-disclosure than trans women. They’re often not recognized as trans, which means they can be less vulnerable to obvious transphobia. Some call it “passing” or “going stealth”; others say those terms suggest secrecy or deception, preferring the term “low or no disclosure.” In practice, this means that a 6’2” woman is often more conspicuous than a 5’4” man. James Ward, a lawyer in San Francisco who transitioned about six years ago, put it this way: “We have the ability to just walk through the world and not have anybody look at you twice.”

MEN AT WORK

One day in court, Ward and his opposing counsel were making a big request to a judge. Ward knew their question would not go over well, so he wasn’t surprised when she reprimanded both him and his opposing counsel for asking. What he didn’t expect was for the opposing counsel lean over to him and call the judge the c-word. “We weren’t out the courtroom door when he said that to me under his breath,” Ward says. “He never would have said that when I was female.”

Many trans men I spoke with said they had no idea how rough women at work had it until they transitioned. As soon as they came out as men, they found their missteps minimized and their successes amplified. Often, they say, their words carried more weight: They seemed to gain authority and professional respect overnight. They also saw confirmation of the sexist attitudes they had long suspected: They recalled hearing female colleagues belittled by male bosses, or female job applicants called names.

“If I’m going off-the cuff, no-one really questions it,” Ward says. “It’s taken as, ‘He’s saying it, so it must be true.’ Whereas while I was practicing as female, it was ‘Show me your authority, you don’t know any better yet.’”

Mitch Davis is now a director of organizational development at Planned Parenthood Federation of America in New York City, but he’s worked in HR for many different companies since coming out eight years ago. In one previous job, he heard his boss call female colleagues “old cows” and refer to a middle-aged job applicant as “Dame Edna” after she’d left an interview. “Evidently men say things like that to each other all the time,” he says.

Other trans men say they’ve heard male co-workers sexualize female colleagues when no women are present. “There’s some crude humor, some crass humor,” says Cameron Combs, an IT consultant in Olympia, Washington. He says he’s heard male colleagues do “appraisals” of women in the office or observe how female co-workers used their “womanly wiles” to rise up the ladder, conversations he says he never would have heard when he was a woman. “When they saw me as female, it was kind of an automatic stop,” he says. “It’s a little less censored, the jokes I hear, the comments.”

Some trans men have noticed the professional benefits of maleness. James Gardner is a newscaster in Victoria, Canada, who had been reading the news as Sheila Gardner for almost three decades before he transitioned at 54. As soon as he began hosting as a man, he stopped getting as many calls from men pointing out tiny errors. “It was always male callers to Sheila saying I had screwed up my grammar, correcting me,” he says. “I don’t get as many calls to James correcting me. I’m the same person, but the men are less critical of James.”

Dana Delgardo is a family nurse practitioner and Air Force captain who transitioned three years ago. Since his transition, he’s noticed that his female patients are less open with him about their sexual behavior, but his bosses give him more responsibility. “All of a sudden, I’m the golden child,” he says. “I have been with this company for 6 years, no ever recommended me for management. Now I’m put into a managerial position where I could possibly be a regional director.”

Trans women have long observed the flip side of this reality. Joan Roughgarden, a professor emerita of biology at Stanford and a transgender woman, says it became much more difficult to publish her work when she was writing under a female name. “When I would write a paper and submit it to a journal it would be almost automatically accepted,” she said of the time when she had a man’s name. “But after I transitioned, all of a sudden papers were running into more trouble, grant proposals were running into more trouble, the whole thing was getting more difficult.”

“As a man, you’re assumed to be competent unless proven otherwise,” she says. “Whereas as a woman you’re presumed to be incompetent unless proven otherwise.”

HOW MEN THINK

Every transgender man interviewed for this story said he wasn’t just treated differently after he transitioned—he felt different, too. Those who had taken testosterone treatments said they noticed psychological changes that came with the medical transition. Most trans men said that after they took hormone treatments they felt more sure of themselves and slightly more aggressive than they had been before the treatment.

“After transitioning I was able to think more clearly, I was more decisive,” says the radio newscaster Gardner. He says the shift has affected his daily routine, even for something as ordinary as a trip to the grocery store. Before he transitioned, he says, he used to spend 45 minutes debating which pasta sauce to buy, which vegetables were the freshest. “I would stand there and look at the different varieties of yogurt,” he recalls. “Now I just grab one. I’m looking for utility, I don’t second-guess myself.”

“As a female there was black and white and everything in between. When I started taking the hormones, it was more black and white,” he explains, adding: “If I get into a disagreement with someone at work, I don’t have that feeling afterwards of, ‘I hope I didn’t hurt his or her feelings.’ I’m not a worrier as much as I was in the female body.”

Of course, Gardner’s story is unique to his own experience, and not all trans men who take testosterone have noticed quite so dramatic a shift. But men’s testosterone levels do have a significant influence on some traits and behaviors that are associated with masculinity. A small recent study on trans men taking T therapy showed changes in the brain structure of those undergoing medical transition—though whether those changes lead to the effects trans men described to me is not yet proven.

The changes in patients taking testosterone are strikingly consistent, says Dr. Joshua Safer, director of the Endocrinology Fellowship Training Program at Boston University. Dr. Safer has treated hundreds of people with testosterone for more than a decade, and says he observes his patients becoming more decisive and more aggressive under testosterone treatment, though he laments the lack of data to back up this observation.

“I feel a sense of urgency, like I just want to kind of do it and get it done,” Tiq Milan says, adding that he was surprised at the personality change when he transitioned at 25. “I wasn’t expecting testosterone to have such an effect on how I think.”

WALK LIKE A MAN

Most trans men I spoke to also identified another commonality: Once they transitioned, walking became easier, but talking became harder. To be more specific: walking home after dark felt easier, casually talking to babies, strangers and friends felt harder.

“I have to be very careful to not be staring at kids,” says Gardner. “I can look at a mom and her baby, but I can’t look for too long. I miss being seen as not a threat.” Ditto for kids on the playground and puppies, multiple guys said.

And to a man, everyone said they’d experienced a moment when they were walking at night behind a woman, and suddenly realized that she was walking faster or clutching her purse because she was scared.

“If I start to get too close, I can feel her fear, I can feel that she’s getting upset,” says Milan. “And it’s really just an indication of how dangerous this world is for women.”

As a trans man of color, Milan says he feels that the world perceives him as a menace, and his interactions with police officers have gotten much more fraught. “I’ve had people make assumptions that I was dangerous or I was a criminal. I’ve been followed around stores. I’ve seen white women who look physically scared, visibly shaken if there’s just the two of us in a elevator,” he says. “You can’t even ask a cop for directions as a black man.”

He says that before he transitioned he was catcalled on the street, but he didn’t feel likepeople assumed he was a criminal. “When I walk down the street no one knows that I’m a trans black man, people just see me as a black man,” he says. “So when we’re looking at all of this horrible police violence, it’s scary.”

Dana Delgardo also says that being a man of color comes with new problems. “I bought a Porsche convertible and I’m afraid to be out late at night after having one cocktail driving that car,” he says. “It deters me from doing things that I think a Caucasian male could probably do without fear of being pulled over by the police.”

Many white trans men said they felt it was easier to walk through the world, freed from the myriad expectations placed on women.

“As a female I felt I had to smile all the time, just to be accepted,” James Gardner said. “As a male I don’t feel a sense of having to be pleasant to look at.”

Many also noticed a shift in their friendships after they transitioned, with some struggling to make friends with cisgender men, unsure of the social cues of male friendship.

“I’m still trying to figure out all of the different secret codes that guys use to talk to each other and to make friendships,” says Mitchell Davis. “But I still I don’t know what the language is. I don’t know what that punch on the arm meant.” He says he doesn’t know what a close male friendship looks like, only that it probably looks different than a close female friendship.

For Milan, male friendship has been mostly positive, but occasionally alarming. While he says most cisgender men he meets are fairly respectful of women even behind closed doors, he’s also noticed what he describes as a culture of toxic masculinity. “I’ve heard men say things about slapping a woman or cheating on women in the most brutal ways and think it’s okay,” Milan says.

“Being privy to the conversations that men have amongst themselves really does give me an indication of how they think about women,” he says. “And sometimes it can be really scary.”

[emmaskipp-blog]

Mom -Blog 3

Mom

From ‘ Mother’

 ·     Note  - Not Mum or Mummy, this is a dead ancient Egyptian.

 (I already know this statement will rile some of you, if that’s the case I’ll point out now that this blog has nothing to do with linguistics , it is in fact a rather honest account of some of the things leading up to my Mom’s death. Please read on with an open heart and mind)

 You died on 5th June 2015, you were just 60 years old, and one of the most “alive “ interesting, insightful and thoroughly complicated people one could ever hope to meet.

 We were robbed and so were you, you have never met your grandson and neither will you meet your grand daughter due in 10 weeks time. Even as I write this now, these words that have been restless inside my head for some 790 days now.

 I knew putting pen to paper would be both one of the hardest and most cathartic exercises; indeed it has been just that.

 You left us too early; we are still not ready to be without you. Images of your rude and rapid demise haunt us all, lurking behind eyelids ready to appear the second they are closed. They are horrifying; nothing could prepare us for that.

 They gave you five years then they said they had got that wrong, it’s not something a doctor should get wrong really is it?

Then they gave you twelve months; you gave us eleven months and 30 days. I guess to a lesser extent you still had the final say.

 Ill always remember the day the doctor assembled us in the room of the hospice on the day you were transferred from hospital to the hospice, that poor bastard didn’t know you did he mom? Well you were nothing but authentic to the very end, you let him have it didn’t you?

With the little strength you had left you sat up and in a totally unique way simply and abruptly stated

         “ Is this the part where you tell me I’m going             to die?”

 PAUSE – Something just happened whilst I was sat writing this that I felt was noteworthy enough to include, this is not even a joke.

I’ve just been interrupted by the door bell, stood before me is a man wearing a bullet proof vest with a camera attached to it who boldly said to me “ I have a warrant for this address to search and remove goods, I am looking for  ***** ******” the man who he is looking for no longer lives at the property but we are aware that he is in some trouble due to the nature of the letters that arrive for him, that and the man who turned up at the door one night wanting his money back.

 After my heart stopped pounding and I was sure my waters hadn’t broken I invited him in to take a seat.

An hour later I am somewhat rather enlightened by what a “ law enforcement officer” actually does (sent directly by the court) he also regaled me with many interesting stories about his job.

A very nice gentleman by all accounts.

Anyway we managed to locate the said individual he was after (useless human being) which really helped our situation. Turns out it’s the only address anyone has for him and if he continues to ignore demands a warrant for his arrest will also be issued to this address where they will come in (using force or door removal if necessary) and physically look for him thought out the property.

Fantastic.

 PLAY

 “ Is this the part where you tell me I’m going to die?” - Your withered and emaciated frame still telling it exactly how it is.

 I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry, I did both in the end.

The doctor remained professional (serious) throughout as we sat there, in disbelief, as we still are today.

 You always complained about being slightly overweight, I’m just like you in that respect weight always fluctuating, hard to stay on top of but the alternative, being drastically underweight is like looking at someone from a concentration camp. That my friends is the reality.

Dramatic, unhealthy, drug induced weight loss is neither glamorous nor easy on the eye. Seeing your mothers once beautiful flesh on the face turn into paper-thin skin stretched uncomfortably over her cranium greying by the hour is pretty fucking horrifying.

 In my experience Death does not, and did not, go peaceful into that good night. In my mothers case it went frightened, unwilling and in pain.

It is not like the films, there was no graceful acceptance there was just fear and whiskey.

 Ironically I remember Mom telling me about something she had witnessed during a brief stint she did nurse training, the “ Brompton cocktail”, or something with a similar name, essentially at the end of your life nurses administer more and more pain relief (I believe in times gone by this included cocaine and morphine amongst others given as a drink, hence “ cocktail”) well thank God for that at least.

I saw what they were doing and when I realised it I’m not ashamed to say I was the first in line at the nurses station to say I felt you were in more pain, sure enough in they came and pumped something else into your bruised and battered veins.

 I found myself in a very plain a clinical looking chapel with my dad, praying to a God I don’t believe in to put you out of your misery, and us too for that matter. I still don’t believe a benevolent god would do this kind of thing to “his children”.

 It’s hard to write this in any kind of linier form as that week lost all sense of time, we stayed over, we laughed, we cried, and when we were running out of ideas we stood beside your bed singing ‘ Something inside so strong”, none of us believing the lyrics.

 We hung beautiful coloured scarves from the window as you always enjoyed “colour therapy” we put a CD on playing sounds of the sea. When you could no longer speak we kept on speaking.

 We bit the bullet and told your somewhat estranged brothers where you were, one who lives in Canada, one in Spain. They turned up at exactly the same time the following day and they didn’t leave.

I know your childhood made you sad at times but you smiled when you knew your brothers had come.

We drank more whiskey the, which is what I want to do now.

We wanted to roll your bed outside, as one of the last things you wanted was an apple and to be outside.

I chose the apple really carefully like my life depended on it. Turned out you didn’t have the strength to bite it. It sat there with a tiny pathetic bite out of it going brown and decaying in front of us.

 They wouldn’t let us take you outside, I wish now we had insisted or tried harder, you may well have died out there but that might have brought you some happiness. Fact is they told us you couldn’t be moved, as the pain would have been too great.

 So if my last thing I did for you was run past the nurses station with you in your bed you may not of thanked me for it after all.

 My husband rubbed a wet sponge around your dried out mouth and lips during the last two days. Strangely I’ll treasure that memory as you always valued kindness over any other quality and in those moments I knew the man I had married was so kind in his soul I felt blessed.

  Dad pointed out that the two bins in the room were marked ‘ general bin’ and ‘ offensive bin’ he then opened and shut the offensive bin’s ‘mouth’ with a torrent of swear words, that made us all laugh.

 I remember two days before you were moved from the hospital to the hospice arriving on my own and seeing you lolling in a chair, slumped up against it like you would expect from and old person in a nursing home. Mouth open, no dignity, no one coming to look after you while you slept fitfully and looked uncomfortable. Lots of people in hospitals look like that.

 It was that moment, seeing you like that it really sunk in, I knew your heart was physically breaking and you really were dying.

I went straight back down the 7 floors into a crowd of smoking strangers with tears dripping off my chin, snot choking my throat and asking someone for a cigarette. I got one, no one comforted me, they just starred at me as people in hospitals often do, probably going through their own version of hell.

 I rang my husband between ugly sobs and told him you looked dead. He did everything you can at the end of a phone line.

 It really was quick, the end of your living. You were a wild woman, eccentric, a language teacher, complicated, hilarious, so unforgiving, so so much of everything.

 Life feels diluted without you in it, that’s the truth.

 So although I could go on and on about your demise, and maybe I will come back to it at some point, I’m cautious that I don’t want to increase suicide rates or at least contribute to the country’s ever expanding number of depressed people. As I’ve said it is my intention to write about everything, the good, the bad and the sad, or at least all of my life’s experiences so far which may or may not be be of some interest, to some of you ?! Anyone ?!!

 Audio Link – “Thais” Meditation by Massenet.

 In memory of my mother Julie Pamela Skipp  (Sykes) 6/10/54 – 5/6/15

 This was her favourite piece of classical music, it’s beautiful, enjoy.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6QjZfV-2A4

  On her 60th birthday, 8 months before she died I arranged for a pianist and violin player to perform this piece on a narrow boat we hired for the day.

I’m really glad I did that.

[kayleygoestolondon]

Hola, Spain!

I’ve just logged on and realized that I haven’t posted since last summer... eek. In my defense, I didn’t travel anywhere exciting the first half of the school year, and by the time I went to Paris and Morocco, I thought people had surely lost interest in reading my posts. We have more important things to read about! Brexit! Donald Trump’s latest tweets! What bizarre name Kim Kardashian will give her newest baby! However, I had such an incredible time in Spain and Portugal that I figured I might as well write it down. Even if my grandparents are my only devoted readers, it’ll make a good memento for me to reflect on fondly when I’m 80 years old in a retirement centre in Camrose. 

My latest trip began with arguably the best flight I’ve ever had. Since I usually fly alone, I’m always stuck sitting beside one of the following Flight Ruiners™:

Crying infant who will not be soothed

Severely overweight person who insists on taking up most of my personal space

Armrest hogger

Somebody with a terrible illness (most likely the plague or Ebola) that coughs and sneezes the entire flight

NOT THIS TIME! I was seated with two guys from central London who were on their way to Barcelona for a bachelor party. At first, I expected the worst: when I flew to Morocco, an entire bachelor party boarded the plane at 6 AM already drunk and proceeded to be the most obnoxious human beings I’ve ever encountered for three hours. These guys redeemed my faith in good old British lads. They chatted with me the whole way about travel and insisted I have a drink with them to celebrate being hired at a new job! They even paid, which was great, because I am the stingiest person in the world and would never pay for a beer on a flight. It’s also part of my personal vendetta against RyanAir.  When we arrived in Barcelona, it was after midnight and pouring rain, so they offered to share their cab with me to make sure I got to my AirBnB safely. Chivalry isn’t dead after all!

My friends from Canada (Dillon, Candice, and Bal) were waiting up for me at the AirBnB with McDonald’s chicken nuggets and a batch of questionable homemade sangria. If that isn’t a welcome, I don’t know what is. 

BARCELONA

We had breakfast at the cutest tiny cafe and I had the best omelette of my life made by an equally cute and tiny Spanish woman. Also discovered that “cafe con leche” (Spanish coffee with milk) is pretty delicious.

We did a walking tour of the city and learned lots of interesting historical facts while seeing some of the main sights. On the tour, we met some other Canadians so we went for drinks with them afterwards. What a small world. 

Discovered you can go into a store and buy an entire jug of wine. Or, if you’re an efficient on-the-go type of person... wine juice boxes.

Checked out the Sagrada Familia. I’ve been to nearly every famous cathedral in Europe (#humblebrag) and this was the best one. If you go to Barcelona, it is 100% worth seeing.

Walked up to Parc Guell, which has a beautiful view over the city. Fun fact: the park was designed by Gaudi, the same designer of the Sagrada Familia. If you’re gonna read this all the way through, you bet I’m gonna give you some unrequested knowledge. His architectural style is pretty distinct and I really loved seeing how those elements were incorporated into the design of the park. 

Hopped in the car and prepared for the first portion of our journey. This is where it’s really important for me to note that we started our trip with “Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under” by Shania Twain (more like Shania SPAIN, am I right? lololol). This song did not leave our heads for the entire week. I’m not exaggerating. We sang it constantly. In the car. At the beach. In the bar. SHANIA TWAIN EVERY DAY. 

DRIVING IN SPAIN

Since Spain drives on the right side like we do (sorry UK friends, but the left side is stupid and I will fight you about it), it was pretty easy to navigate... excluding the massive traffic circles with stoplights in them and no lanes marked. We circled those in terror, not knowing what we were doing but somehow avoiding collisions.

There are tolls EVERYWHERE. We paid 40 euros in tolls between Barcelona and Valencia, which is a toll-tally ridiculous amount (lol, I’m not even sorry for these jokes)

The highways are really well-maintained, but are virtually empty. We encountered almost no traffic at all and didn’t see any police either. Dillon did not take advantage of this and drove a respectable speed the whole way, rather than living out our Fast & The Furious fantasy

The Spanish countryside is really gorgeous. It’s much more mountainous than I realized, particularly the areas that we drove through. We got some really stunning scenic views along the way.

We all had important roles within the car. Dillon was the Driver, I was the Navigator/DJ, Candice and Bal were the backseat Snoozers and Snack Providers. This meant that Dillon was the MVP of the trip, because he drove without any road rage at all (how is that even possible... my driving is just like a constant stream of swearing), whereas my sole contribution was playing 500 Miles by the Proclaimers as often as possible. 

VALENCIA

We had the unfortunate timing of arriving Valencia just as a massive football game was ending; Valencia had won against Barcelona to win the Copa Del Rey. The streets were swarming with people and the honking was endless. Easily the second-most stressful part of our drive. Want to know the worst one? READ ON FOR MORE (#clickbait)

Spent our whole day there at the beach. The weather was great, if not a bit windy, and Dillon was magically transformed into a red lobster thanks to the sunshine. We all went home with sand everywhere. I think I still had some in my ears at the end of the trip.

We enjoyed beers and a selection of meats and cheeses on the beach. We ate so much meat and cheese during this week. You may be thinking, “Meat and cheese seem very impractical to eat on the beach because of all the sand”, and you would be CORRECT... but sandy cheese is better than no cheese. 

There were no toilets or change stalls at the beach so we had to go on a bit of an excursion to find somewhere. We eventually infiltrated a fancy hotel to use their lobby bathroom. Candice and Bal got caught going in the second time when the concierge asked if they “had enjoyed the toilettes, and would they perhaps now like to pay for something from the hotel bar”. They ran away. Classic escape!

We sampled a traditional Spanish drink, horchata, which is a “plant-based milk drink” according to Wikipedia. Sounds appealing, right? We collectively hated it. That’s what we get for trying something non-alcoholic. Therefore, it was logically much safer to stick with beer for the rest of the trip. At least, that’s what I told myself.

GRANADA

En route to Granada, we passed through a place called Lorca. High on top of a mountain, we could see a massive fortress. We spontaneously decided to drive up there and check it out. Turns out Castillo de Lorca was built in the 9th century and is one of the largest castles in Spain. Super cool... and we were the only tourists there!

Most Stressful Driving Moment: leaving Lorca Castle. Obviously because it’s on top of a mountain, the roads coming down were windy and steep. Our Google Maps got confused and took us down a side road into this local area that was hellishly narrow and we ended up going down a road that was like a 75 degree angle. I had visions of us driving our poor Volkswagen Polo off the edge of the cliff. Dillon, ever the stoic hero, got us out of it while I panicked and failed at asking locals for directions.

Our apartment in Granada was in the historic part of the city, within the old city walls. Think super tiny, winding cobblestone streets with high buildings. It was very charming, if not excessively sweaty climbing all the stairs. Good thing there was beer at the top!

In the evening, we went for a really great traditional dinner and then to a flamenco show. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip for me. For some reason, the waiter did not seem to think we were capable of drinking 2L of sangria when we first placed our order. We proved him wrong.

We sampled churros with chocolate the next morning. This is apparently quite a traditional thing and honestly I could eat it every day for the rest of my life. Who doesn’t want to start their day with deep-fried dough and chocolate dip?

As we left Granada, we stopped at Alhambra Palace & Gardens. It was founded in 889 AD and mostly constructed in the 13th century. The gardens were stunning and were more impressive than anything I’ve seen before, including the gardens of the Taj Mahal. (#humblebrag2) 

SEVILLE

It was a long walk from our AirBnB to the centre of Seville and it was about 35 degrees out, so we punctuated our stroll with frequent beer stops. This meant that we were feeling pretty good by the time we arrived at the Plaza de Espana. Some scenes from Game of Thrones were filmed here, so you could probably add our names to the credits now.

We then had the best seafood paella and sangria at a local restaurant! The paella was HUGE... and we ate all of it. No regrets. 

Seville was one of the friendliest places I’ve ever been. When we went for breakfast the next morning, we went to a local cafe where literally nobody spoke any English. The manager seemed really excited that we were there and got us our own separate table. There was no menu, so we managed to communicate that he could bring us whatever he wanted. We got this awesome selection of incredible sandwiches and he checked to make sure we were happy with them. Everywhere we went, people were super eager to please and would joke around with us, despite the language barrier. I’d go back here in a second.

FARO

We crossed the border into Portugal after leaving Seville and made a pitstop at Praia de Faro. It’s a small island that’s basically just beautiful beach and little bars and restaurants. We had some great beach time and beers because it was a scorching 37 degrees. Dillon attained an even higher level of lobster. 

Women on the beaches of Spain and Portugal often go topless... so when we asked a stranger to take a photo of the four of us on the beach, I realized afterwards that there was a mostly-naked lady in the background. Thank goodness for Photoshop; I made that disappear. 

LISBON

People in Portugal speak better English than people in Spain. I only managed to learn two words in Portuguese: “cerveja” (beer) and “obrigada” (thank you). I got along with those pretty well :)

The metro system in Lisbon is super easy and efficient, so for the first time we took advantage of public transit and spared ourselves walking everywhere in the extreme heat

When we went out for dinner that evening, we discovered that boiled meats are pretty standard in Portuguese cuisine. This was not my favourite :( On the other hand, Portuguese custard tarts (pasteis de nata) are phenomenal.  

We checked out the seaside and a couple of cool markets. We also took a walking tour here to learn more about the city. Our tour guide recommended a super cool bar underneath a church. There was some kind of street festival going on, so there were outdoor bars and decorations everywhere. We explored that and then ended at an outdoor cinema. 

I had to get up at 4:30 the next morning to get an Uber to the airport. Note to self: next time I have an early flight, don’t have so many cervejas the night before. Lesson learned. 

If you’ve made it this far, wow - you probably need a hobby! This trip was so much fun and so interesting; I really wanted to take the time to tell the story. If you haven’t been to Spain or Portugal, maybe I’ve convinced you to go. I couldn’t recommend it enough. I owe the biggest thank you to Dillon, Candice, and Bal for being my travel companions and for making me laugh a million times during the trip. What an amazing final experience before I head back to Canada in August :) 

[becamitchellsbeats]

Hazardous Headphones Part 4

So I’ve finally written part 4 after revising part 3. So boom. also on AO3 

Kimmy Jin's front door flew open and clanged against the wall. "Okay you won't know but what you've just said is really fucking un-cool." Beca said angrily as she glared at Chloe.

"Beca, Fat Amy told me about your mom" Chloe admitted "She did? then why would you say such a hurtful lie!?" Beca snapped to which Chloe shook her head "I'm not lying, I just wanted to protect you" she raised her phone and showed Beca a photo of the woman she captured looking up at the flyer. "I meant it Beca, I saw her today, I'm just as confused as you are"

Beca's eyes widened as her eyes focused on the image. Her bottom jaw trembled as she failed to come up with a response. It had been 9 years, and sure she looked a bit different to what she remembered but that was most definitely her.

Beca stepped outside and slowly closed the front door to Kimmy's apartment, this wasn't a conversation she wanted her to overhear.

"When did you see her?" Beca said quietly as she looked down at the ground. "A-Around 30 minutes ago, I came straight here, she wanted to come find you I just wanted to warn you"

Beca took a hold of Chloe's phone and continued to stare at the photo. "I've mourned her for 9 years, I don't know whether to be happy or angry anymore..." Chloe was unsure of how to comfort her, on one hand she knew Beca needed someone but at the same time, she didn't want Beca to think she was trying to brush aside what she had done. "Did she at least say why?" Beca asked glancing up, Chloe slowly shook her head "I asked, but she said she wants to tell you in person."

"I feel sick." Beca was getting paler "I'm so confused this is like a bad dream I can't be dealing with this right now, this wasn't part of my plan I--"

Chloe suddenly pulled Beca in close and held her tightly and for a moment Beca let her before pulling away. "Chloe, we're still not okay, I really appreciate you telling me but I can't be dealing with you right now either. I think I need some time alone"

Beca turned her head towards Kimmy Jin's door and sighed "But going back in there just means I'll have to bottle my emotions and I'm not sure if I can do that this time." Beca felt trapped, she knew she needed to let all her emotions out at once, whether it was by actually allowing herself to cry or shouting out her frustrations. She knew hiding in her car wasn't the answer, returning to the Dorm wasn't it either and going back inside with Kimmy Jin was something she wanted to avoid. But at the same time she knew she was too upset to drive.

Chloe could see Beca's desperation to hold back her tears, she hated seeing her like this, she didn't know what to do. Given how she already messed up she knew she was the last person Beca wanted to be around.

"Beca, I know you haven't forgiven me, and I know that right now you want to be left alone, and I need to respect that. But if you need me I'll be there" Chloe then went to turn away.

"Uh, actually Chlo . . . do you know someplace quiet we can go? I feel like I'm going to explode and I just don't know what to do."

Chloe turned around and smiled lightly "I think I have a place in mind" she then paused "ugh, it's just I kind of dropped my keys" she said whilst eying up the drain. At that moment the front door opened and Kimmy Jin emerged "Whilst you're here, I forgot to tell you, I got your keys."

Chloe gasped "You retrieved my keys for me?" Kimmy maintained a dead expression "Not because I like you. Having your car parked outside my apartment is just a real inconvenience is all. Oh and," Kimmy Jin reached into her pocket "You have several parking tickets, for some reason they keep getting put in my mail box" Kimmy Jin then handed the keys and parking tickets over to Chloe and headed back inside.

Beca smirked ever so slightly "you really don't have much luck do you" Chloe laughed a little "I guess not" she said shoving the parking tickets into her bag "but at least I can drive us now" she said holding up the keys. Chloe then clicked her car key and unlocked her car. They both made their way to Chloe's car and slowly climbed in.

- After a short drive, they arrived at The Lodge Of Fallen Leaves. "What even is this place?" Beca asked as she glanced around at the nature that surrounded them.

"It's a camp, Aubrey runs it, she's got a cabin that she said I can use anytime, I thought maybe you could use that?"

"Is she here?" Beca asked "well, I know she's closed it off for a week, she wanted a break or something, so I'm not sure if she's around or not" Beca slowly nodded "Ah, explains why the place looks so vacant." Beca then turned her head towards the window as she spoke quietly  "uh, thanks for doing this Chloe"

Chloe smiled softly as she opened up her car door. "I don't mind at all Beca, I just want to make sure that you're okay," she said as she climbed out of her car. Beca sat there for a moment before getting out as well. "I'll show you where the Cabin is" Chloe said as she gestured Beca to follow her, there was definitely an awkward vibe between them and it didn't help that Beca was even quieter than usual, she appeared to be visually calm but on the inside, she was falling apart.

-

After a five minute walk, Beca and Chloe reached the wooden cabin. It was a decent sized cabin, surrounded by trees. The scenery was oddly calming, but at the same time, the cabin was pretty isolated.

"Here it is" Chloe said as she handed the keys to Beca "Just take as much time as you need Beca, just call me if you need anything and when you want to come home - or um, go back to Kimmy Jin's just let me know and I'll come pick you up" Beca took the keys, she stared at Chloe for a moment contemplating what to say.

"And if you do get lonely and want some company just let me know" Chloe said awkwardly as she backed up. "Chloe wait," Beca said with a sigh " I've was thinking about a lot of things on our journey up here, on one hand, you know me better than anyone else, but on the other hand, you literally know nothing about me."

"Beca, what do you mean?" Chloe asked looking puzzled "What I mean is I always push people away, I don't open up and I guess if I should open up to anyone it should be you." she said sincerely.

"Beca, I don't want to force you to open up to me." Chloe said softly "You're not, I want to" Chloe smiled lightly "If that's what you want to do Beca then I'd gladly listen"

"lets uh, go for a stroll"

Beca started walking and Chloe followed quietly beside her "so, you know how I hate Boats and well, the sea in general" Chloe slowly nodded "Yeah?" "Well, me, my dad and my mom we went on a boat once, we went on The Maid Of The Mist Boat specifically, its by Niagra falls kinda in between both Canada and New York, but me being a kid I didn't care much for the location, I was just excited." she admitted

"See, this was a big deal because my mom used to travel a lot, sometimes she'd even miss Christmas, so we wanted to have a real special family holiday." Beca went on to explain as Chloe listened intently.

"Everything was going fine, until my Mom decided she wanted to go Scuba diving. At the time I didn't know what was going on, all I knew was that Dad had to stay on deck with me but, to watch me I guess" Beca paused for a moment as the memory still hurt to think about "My Mom never came back. I uh, later found out that she got swept away by the undercurrent, she swam too far from the boat, she ignored the instructor's warnings and well, she got taken by the sea."

"She got caught up in the current? Beca that's terrible..." Chloe said softly

" Yeah ... my Dad never told me much about it when I was younger, he lied, I guess he didn't want me to know the truth, but as I grew older I pleaded with him to tell me everything. The truth was something that never left me. I threw a huge tantrum, and that's why my mom wanted to go Scuba diving, it was to get away from me." Beca looked to the ground looking pained.

"My Dad told me it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't help but blame myself, if I wasn't such a Brat, mom wouldn't have left the boat and well, I thought my actions killed her. I guess that's why I shut people out, I'm afraid that once people truly get to know me that they'll want to leave and then I guess I'm afraid they won't come back.

I mean for 9 years I thought I contributed to her death, it was a lot to deal with "

"Jeez, that's terrible" Chloe looked pained "but Beca, of course, that wasn't your fault. You were a kid, you can't blame yourself for that, kids throw tantrums all the time, you couldn't have predicted it, and just so you know" Chloe placed her hand on her shoulder and smiled "No matter how much you try and push me out, just know that I'm not going anywhere."

"It makes me really sad that you've blamed yourself for so many years but" Chloe gave her a warm smile as she continued "all of the Bellas look up to you, not to mention we're all friends for life. Its because of you that the Bellas are where they are today."

Beca glanced away she never knew how to react in these kinds of situations.

"Seriously, Beca you're the most amazing person I know, next to myself, I'm still the tits" she joked to try and lighten the mood.

Beca smiled faintly "You're definitely the most persistent person I know." Beca paused for a moment "That uh really means a lot Chloe." Beca came to a stop as her eyes began to well up she exhaled sharply "Yikes," she said swinging her arms back and forth "I hate deep conversations but as you can see my whole life is upside down, after all this time my mom was alive, I just, I'm confused, like- part of me is relieved that she's alive but like, I don't understand why it's taken her nine years to reach out. She physically can't have been stranded for 9 years I just, I just don't understand..."

Chloe thought back to the conversation she had with Beca's mom and how she had said that her reasonings weren't very good. The last thing she wanted was Beca to get hurt but at the same time she wanted to keep an open mind "Beca, I don't want to be one to judge. I guess the only way to get your answers is to meet her."

"You're right, but I still need time. And ideally i'd like it to be on my terms"

"I could see if I can find her? maybe even arrange to meet her, I can always go with you? just remember, you don't have to deal with this alone Beca"

Beca turned to Chloe and smiled lightly "I'd like that, thanks Chlo" Chloe smiled back "It's the least I could do. If you want I could stay up here with you?" Beca paused for a moment to think about it "yeah okay - wait, what about The World's don't the girls need you for rehearsals?"

"Sure, the world's are important but this is a bigger deal. You matter more right now Beca, besides it'll just be for a few days they can manage until then. I already showed Stacie some of the choreography, she's a quick learner so she should be able to take over."

"If you're sure" Beca started walking again, she walked through a clearing that led to a cliff top, below was a stream and some large rocks. It was a pretty sight "This place is perfect" Beca said as she suddenly ran forward "What are you doing?" Chloe asked sounding concerned.

"I HATE FEELINGS!" Beca yelled out as loud as she could, her words echoed in the distance. Chloe smiled as she watched her for a moment, she to then ran forward and joined in,

"I HATE PARKING TICKETS!"

Beca turned and laughed at her "Really Chlo? Parking tickets?" Chloe smiled "Is that not how it works?" Beca shrugged "I guess you can shout whatever really"

"Maybe you should also shout about something you love?" Chloe suggested "That'd be pretty lame" Beca said dismissing the idea "Well, i'm going to do it" Chloe said cheerfully "I LOVE SINGING!" Beca rolled her eyes "You seriously have just made this so lame" Chloe tugged at Beca's arm "C'mon Becaaa" Beca rolled her eyes once more "fine-" she inhaled,

"I LOVE MY BEAT--" her words trailed to a stop, she almost felt bad for bringing them up even though she had every right to still be mad about them being given to an auction. "Maybe I should shout about something else..."

Chloe cleared her throat "About your Beats-" Chloe said awkwardly "Chloe, I don't want to talk about it right now--" "We got them back, well, actually, your um, your mom came to the auction and bought them back, I had hoped to stop the auction but uh, she kind of went all out"

Beca raised an eyebrow "wait? my mom bought them back? how did she even know they were mine?" Chloe winced "Something about an angry tweet?" Beca looked confused for a moment "Ah, my tweet- but still, i'm lost, tell me everything that happened since you left Kimmy's apartment"

Chloe nodded "Okay, well, Stacie picked me up and --" Chloe then went on to explain everything that had happened.

-

A few hours had passed,  it was now night time and they were now laying in their respective beds.

Beca was aimlessly scrolling through her twitter feed when she noticed Chloe shivering out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at the fire place "Why don't you turn the heat up?" Beca suggested casually "oh it's already on max" Chloe said whilst her teeth chattered together. Beca raised an eyebrow "Do you want my blanket?" Chloe shook her head "No Becs, its okay honest, don't worry about me, just focusing on getting to sleep"

"hard to do that with your teeth chattering away," she said softly as she patted at her bed "Why don't you come join me" she said in a mumble "What?" Chloe asked not hearing her,

"I said, why don't you come join me..." she grumbled slightly louder this time.

"No, No Beca it;s fine. I'm not trying to take advantage of you I know I messed up, I'm just glad you're letting me be here for you"

Beca sighed "Look, what you did hurt me, because I trusted you and it really wasn't cool. And if anyone knows how to hold a grudge its me, but its just not worth it. The main thing is I've got my Beats back, and I can tell you're sorry. Don't punish yourself, now are you coming over or not?"

Chloe climbed out of her bed, grabbing her blanket "Thank you Beca" she said softly as she got into the bed with her. Chloe laid there almost stiffly, she didn't know if this meant anything, but she tried not to think too much into it. "Yikes, you're really broken aren't you" Beca said lifting up Chloe's arm as she put it around her "it'll be warmer for you, this way" she mumbled. Chloe smiled softly "Goodnight Becs".

-

Another two days passed, during this time Chloe felt she had discovered a lot about Beca, they really began to bond and Beca felt for once that she was showing one of her truest sides of herself.

The time they spent together was short but nice. But, Beca finally decided to face reality again. She wanted to return to her internship and make contact with her mother and so her and Chloe were now on their way back home.

"Oh, your headphones are at the dorm, do you want to get them before you head back to Kimmy's?"

"Actually, I was thinking I'd return to the dorm again."

Chloe smiled "Oh, that's great Beca. Whilst you’re at work today I'm going to see if I can set up a time to see your mom. I don't have her details but i'm sure she's around somewhere"

"Thanks"

Chloe pulled into the Bellas drive, they both got out of the car. The two of them then made their way inside.

-

"Beca!" The girls all exclaimed cheerfully as they saw her follow in behind Chloe.

Beca and Chloe were surprised to see Emily's mom there. "Katherine Junk? what are you doing here?" Chloe asked "Oh, I hope you didn't mind, Emily said Stacie was struggling so I thought i'd swing by and help, I've still got it y'know" she said with a smile

"I'm sure you do, after all you were the top bitch of the 1981 Bellas" Chloe stated to which Katherine smiled "Ah, I remember my days as a Bella, they were the best day of my life. I'm so jealous of you girls, when I was in my first year I could only ever dream of going to Europe, Siobhan always hoped we could make it, she was one of our leaders. You guys have a lot better fashion sense than us though" she joked as she pulled out a photo that she had purposely brought with her "This was us" she said showing them a photo "And those two in the middle are Siobhan Mitchell and Sarah Kennedy our Senior leaders"

Beca glanced at the photo to be polite more than anything. "Yo hold up" Fat Amy went to comment as her eyes focused on Siobhan, she then stopped herself from commenting.

Beca's eyes focused on the woman in the photo "My mom was a Bella?" she exclaimed sounding surprised. Katherine turned her head towards Beca "You're Siobhan's daughter?" she exclaimed sounding equally surprised "Ah, Mitchell! it never clicked! as if you're the feisty thing that came from her"

Beca stepped forward "You have to tell me about her life as a Bella" Beca then looked at Katherine expectantly "Well, your mom was a lovely woman, so warm and vibrant. She had a beautiful voice too, so beautiful we all agreed to give her the big solo in our final performance, we came so close to winning too.  But if I'm honest Beca, It was so many years ago though, that's all I can remember about her."

"It's cool, anything you know is good to know so... Thanks Mrs.Junk"

"Well," Katherine stood up "now your that Captain's are back I'll let you girls get back to working your vocal magic! Make me proud girls" Katherine then walked up to Emily a tight embrace "Make me proud Emily" she then waved goodbye and left.

The girls all looked over at Beca who was standing there scratching at her head "Okay so i'm a little weirded out that she was a Bella, but I need to go, because unfortunately, no reason is good enough for me to miss out on work." "But Beca you just got here" Fat Amy commented sounding disheartened "I'll be back after I promise, I guess I owe you guys an explanation, and you'll get one, I promise"

Beca then made her way outside and Chloe followed after her "Oh Beca, if I can arrange a meeting place with your mom, should I phone you after?" she said whilst standing at the door "Yeah, call me" she said with a slight smile "Oh and Beca, do you want me to make you a quick lunch? We missed breakfast and--" "No, its cool Chlo, I'll just grab a burrito, thanks tho!"

Beca then hurried to her car and drove off.

-

At the internship Beca was doing what she did best, she was pretending that everything was fine it was far from fine. But she couldn't let it phase her, she was doing well within her Internship, and with all the sudden chaos in her life she was desperate to maintain something.

She grabbed her phone [Uh Stace, Amy, Chlo, either one of you will do, but can one of you fill the girls in about my mom? I don't want to make it into a big thing, even though it is a big thing and yeah.. thanks]

"Reggie" Sammy called out as he peered his head around into the studio she was working in, causing Beca to jump as she glanced up. "You have a visitor. Again" Beca sighed "I am so, sorry, I told Chloe not to worry about lunch, did she bring it again?" Sammy looked puzzled "No? will you just hurry it up? time is money. I've sent her through" Sammy then hurried off barking orders about how paper towels needed replacing.

Beca's phone rang, so she picked up and answered. "What is it Chlo?" Chloe sighed "Beca I'm really sorry, I just can't seem to find your mom"

The door opened again and this time Beca's mom stood in the doorway. "Beca?"

"Uh, don't worry about it Chlo"

"What? why not?"

"She's uh, standing right here . . . ." Beca then cut the call and slowly pulled her phone away from her ear.

Beca's jaw just hanged as her eyes scanned over every feature on the woman's face. It was her. "H-How?" Beca struggled to say. Beca's mom entered the room and slowly shut the door "I have a lot of explaining to do"

Beca slowly nodded "Yeah... you do"

"Mind if I sit?"

"I didn't quite want to talk like this but. . ." Beca sighed "well you're here now so, go for it..."

Siobhan pulled up a chair, she sat down opposite her. "Beca, you-" Beca narrowed her eyes as she sharply interrupted her "Look, I know you want to talk but, this whole situation is bizarre, I just need to know why so start with that..."

Siobhan nodded "Okay Beca. Did your Dad tell you about what happened with the Boat trip?" she started out.

"Well, yeah he eventually told me, but that was nine years ago. Why has it taken you over nine years to contact me?" Beca asked the hurt apparent in her voice.

"I'll need you to hear me out Beca. I had a very difficult time, I washed up on a Beach, I don't think I was drifting for too long but it felt like an eternity, I lost consciousness and awoke on a Beach that I later found out to be in Canada." Beca listened intently as she continued,

"It was a struggle, I had no money, no phone, no passport, nobody knew who I was, not even I knew who I was. you see, I had amnesia" Beca looked shocked "You mean all the time they spent looking. . . they were looking in the wrong place? Dad said they said that it was unlikely you'd end up over the Canada side of the falls, so during all this time ---"

Siobhan slowly nodded "I didn't even know I had a family looking for me Beca, so don't feel bad. I lived on the streets until I eventually met a man, he was kind hearted and would often give me some change, perhaps bring me a hot drink on cold nights, some time passed and he asked me if I wanted to help him with his deliveries, because of him I finally had a chance to make some money and truly get back on my feet."

"I later fell in love with this man and I finally started to get back on to my feet. I was living my new life, the only life I knew. Some more time passed and we had a baby"

"You had a kid? I have sibling?" Beca exclaimed feeling slightly hurt, almost as if she had been replaced but at the same time surprised.

"A younger brother, yes. But if you want to know more about him i'll tell you after, I still have more to tell you"

Beca slowly nodded so Siobhan continued.

"So at first I could hardly remember anything, until one day, Blake threw this huge tantrum, and my tongue slipped, I yelled at him 'Beca! stop doing that' the thing was, I didn't know who 'Beca' was, I just knew that, that name was important to me, over the following months I started to regain more memories, we worked with doctors and therapists and I finally managed to regain most of my memory. That's when I remembered you, I was ecstatic, I rushed to track you down and found out that you attended Barden. There was an open day so I flew out and thats when I saw you, you hadn't grown much but you looked so mature, you also looked happy with that group of girls, I knew that losing me must have been so hard on you and I didn't want to throw your life into chaos again. So I went back to Canada, I wanted to approach you but... I just couldn't"

Beca was feeling a surge of all kinds of emotions, it was overwhelming, she was relieved that her mom was alive, sad that she had gone through such hard times but also angry that she didn't approach her.

"That’s a lot to take in... but I can't help but feel hurt that you didn't talk to me... sure it'd of turned my life upside down but thats basically what its done now, why come back at all? why now? I just, I just don't get it."

Siobhan looked pained "Beca the thing is--" she paused for a moment contemplating whether she should say, she then decided not to. "Beca, I have my reasons, but right now isn't the time, I know I don't have the right but please wait just a little longer"

At that moment the door to Beca's work room flew open "Beca I came as fast as I could!" Chloe exclaimed sounding breathless as she entered the room.

Siobhan slowly stood up "Beca, if you want to get to know me again that's your decision. I hope you do" she placed a slip of paper down on her desk with some details on it. "But if you don't, I understand, I won't force you, I lost that right a long time ago" she lowered her head as she awkwardly walked passed Chloe shutting the door behind her.

There was an awkward pause as the room fell quiet.

"Beca? are you--"

Chloe's words trailed to a stop as Beca suddenly stood up and embraced her, burying her face into her chest.

"Do you want to tell me about it..." Chloe said softly as she held her.

- End-

[cheapest-usps-eddm]

Her lineage can be traced back to Morocco – a land where the East meets the West. She was born and bred in Canada. That explains why actor/dancer/singer Nora Fatehi’s charisma is global. She made her debut in the Bollywood film Roar: Tigers of the Sundarbans (2014) and gained popularity in Telugu cinema with item numbers in films like Temper and Kick 2. She’s also starred in Malayalam films, Double Barrel and Kayamkulam Kochunni. What won her massive fans are her sensuous and groovy item numbers in Bollywood like Manohari (Baahubali: The Beginning), Dilbar (Satyamev Jayate), O saki saki (Batla House), Kamariya (Stree) and Ek toh kam zindagani (Marjaavaan), besides her recent hit Garmi with Varun Dhawan in Street Dancer 3D.

But Nora’s not only about sizzling moves. With her sharp sensibilities, she enjoys a strong presence on social media (13.5 million followers on Instagram), where she urges her followers to be more aware, more humane – sometimes through quirky videos, sometimes through socially relevant posts. Looking forward to her next - Ajay Devgn’s Bhuj: The Pride of India – she gets chatting during lockdown…

You donated PPE kits to the government hospitals in the country. That was a great move... 

It’s a small gesture. I believe whatever little one can contribute matters in the bigger picture. It’s unfortunate that such essential resources are limited despite the fact that a lot of money has been collectively raised by people, throughout this lockdown. It seems it isn’t translating in the way it should. Basic medical supplies should never be a privilege. Rather it should be a right for all medical workers.

What lessons have you imbibed during this lockdown period? 

Well not that I didn’t believe in these lessons before. However, I had more time to appreciate a lot of things. That is not to take health, family and loved ones for granted. I can’t wait until I can start my own family one day and have my own beautiful kids. This lockdown also reminded me that a lot of things, I studied in school regarding our global, political and economic system along with the Global Agenda, are now unfolding. Strong political leaders in the past warned the world of many things, which were dismissed and laughed upon at that time. They were not joking. I’m grateful I had the opportunity to receive education and the ability to think critically, something many fail to do. Critical thinking is the need of the hour. There’s a massive change happening beyond what the media wants to show us. We must read and educate ourselves immediately.

We heard you lost someone close to you due to Covid-19. How did you deal with the loss?

One of my best friends’ father passed away. It was extremely difficult for me to see my friend go through such an experience. It was heart-breaking as he died on Eid. I decided not to celebrate out of respect as it was an emotional moment for all of us. Losing a parent is scary. To see your own friend struggle to get past it is humbling and emotionally exhausting. I thank God every day that we wake up alive and healthy and that our families are healthy too.

At present, every industry is facing salary cuts. will film artistes also accept such cuts? 

I’m sure there will be a lot of changes in our industry this year.

You recently became the most followed Moroccan artiste in the world. What keeps you so engaged social media game?

I’ve been particular about my social media since day one – even before entering the industry. I’m an extremely creative person. My social media pages, including my YouTube channel, are my gateways to project my creativity and talent to the audience. It’s my platform to make people laugh through my comedy, to show off new dance skills, while also educating people about world events and spreading awareness. I’m driven to entertain and showcase my talents. I always believed I didn’t need to wait for someone to give me a platform to showcase that. I should create a platform for myself. That’s why I work so diligently on social media. It’s a borderless world, where one reaches out to just about anyone in the globe. I’m blessed to have such a multicultural and diverse following.

How challenging has been your journey given the fact that you were an outsider?

Of course, it’s been challenging. However, I don’t dwell on that much. I keep it going. I keep pushing regardless. I believe in myself. I know the right people will always work with me. I feel thankful that I’m a celebrated artiste in India and in other parts of the world. It shows that it doesn’t matter where you are from. It’s the hard work, dedication, talent and earnestness that counts. It’s been a roller-coaster ride. I hope that inspires people. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

How would you like to be known - as a beautiful dancer or an actor?

Why should one be known for only one trait? Can’t I be known for both? While growing up, I was never considered a good dancer due to my lack of training. However, I worked on myself and became a good dancer. I still work on my dance every day because there’s so much to learn. An artiste can be multidimensional. One should be able to celebrate an artiste for his/her multiple skills. I will be known both as a great actor and dancer by the end of my journey for sure.

Your favourite Bollywood dance numbers…

It’s hard to choose. It would be all of Helen mam’s and Madhuri mam’s songs. Others would be Chikni chameli (Agneepath), Kala chashma (Baar Baar Dekho), Kamli (Dhoom 3) and of course all my songs.

Nora Fatehi’s success mantra

Don’t get distracted, focus on yourself and keep learning.

There’s always room for growth.

Don’t let people make you believe that you can only do one thing. 

Break the stereotypes. 

Be fierce and hungry.

[noiseartists]

DAY & DREAM (USA): Shoegaze duo extraordinaire

Day & Dream is a Shoegaze / Indie band from Ashville in North Carolina. They propose a clever and finely chiseled music, full of clever musical twists.

I listened to their album several times, and while the make up seems, at first listen, quite standard, they cleverly included unexpected sounds, like the jazz keyboard on ‘With Every Breath You Die’, and tinkered happily with the genre’s sound and dynamics. Every listen will uncover new layers … not a common occurrence.

I like the first song and its title: ‘So it begins’ (a sentence that I use often) and its Dream Pop atmosphere, totally unlike the rest of the album, almost like an inside Joke. When ‘Night lights’ starts with a Cure-like bassline, the band display what will be listened to in the album: intricate musical layers bordering on the lo-fi, Abby’s beautiful high-pitched voice, slight dissonance that avoid an ‘easy-listening’ song, feet-taping melodies. And from there you visit various music landscape, all superbly painted.

Needless to say I love this album. Follow me to discover the band with the presentation of their music, an interview and more. You will not be disappointed.

DAY & DREAM’s MUSIC

The band’s music work to date is:

2019: With Every Breath You Die, Album; Fading Summer, EP; Hidden Cinema, Single; Chrysalis, Single

2018: Nocturnal Creatures

Here are some of the songs we love:

Abby and Peter, the band members, give us some insight in their music:

Abby: The first thing ever released was the single “Nocturnal Creatures” which is about moving to Asheville from Brooklyn.

Peter: The title of our first album “With Every Breath You Die” was a phrase we heard a homeless man yelling on the street when we lived in New York City. He kept screaming it over and over and we both found it super profound. And true. Good reminder to live in the now and choose what makes you happy, even if it’s hard or scary.

Abby: Then there’s “Fading Summer” which has two new songs and our latest single “Hidden Cinema.” All three of these have more of a lounge/lo-fi vibe with electronic drum beats.

You can find a great review by Mountainsx.com of their album, ‘With Every Breath You Die’, HERE

DAY & DREAM’S INTERVIEW

Who are the group members?

Peter: The core of our band is Abby and myself. We are married and write everything.

Abby: Some shows we play as a duo with an old Ipod. We also play as a full 4-piece band with drums and our buddy Erik on bass.

We have played with a lot of musicians in Asheville and other cities, trying to accommodate everyone’s schedule and adjust for the type of show we are playing. When we started, I think we were dead set on permanent members, but it’s been more realistic this way.

How did you meet?

Abby: Two words - vegan brunch.

Peter: I met Abby in NYC about seven years ago. Later on, we moved to Asheville, NC and met musicians from good ‘ol Craigslist.

How did you come up with your name?

Abby: We had lots of other contenders, but this one felt right. Peter is a morning person, and I am a night owl.

Peter: “Daydream” it’s a common word, we broke it apart and rejoined with an ampersand. Our lives have a polarity to it, yet, we’re joined together by music.

Peter is the day; morning person, grounded and sunny, while Abby is the dream; head in the clouds and dark. Abby came up with the name, at first I wasn’t thrilled about it, but the more I thought about it, I found it to be an accurate representation of us and the music.

What is your music about?

Abby: All sorts of things, diary entries of our life. “First in Flight” is about starting this band, “Nightlights” is about falling in love and losing sense of time and priorities, “Sleepscreaming” is about Peter’s bad dream experiences. “Outside” is an unreleased song about our dog, Zeppi.

We have a lot of material about family, friends/frenemies, and their internal struggles. I do a lot of Stream of Consciousness writing, and sometimes take lyrics from that. I’m also super inspired by children’s books.

What are your goals as an artist artistically/commercially?

Peter: We all have day jobs. It would be amazing to do the band full time and make a living off of it.

Abby: We’d really love to tour/open for one of our favorite bands, and play internationally. It’d be fun to have our music licensed for a commercial or show, and to play a nighttime talk show. That would be the moment we feel we’ve made it. Really, just knowing people enjoy our songs and artistry, that truly does mean the most.

What are you trying to avoid as a band?

Peter: Musical cliches. We try to be different and put our own twist on everything.

Abby: Band drama, drugs, rock n roll. Before a show, we’re not getting smashed. I’m usually doing yoga or in a sauna, and after a show I’m usually eager to go home to snuggle our dog and drink a cup of tea. Grandma rock n roll style for me.

Why do you make the music you make? Is it in you? Is it your environment?

Peter: We both have overactive imaginations. I can’t stop playing guitar and writing songs. Abby is constantly playing piano and singing. It’s totally inside us.

Abby: It can’t be stopped. Music runs deep in my Filipino family, and always comes out in me even when I try to suppress it.

What inspires you for the music or for the Lyrics?

Abby: Nature, travels, life, death, love, pain, humor, all of it - the sweet and salty.

Peter: Sometimes I genuinely don’t know where my ideas come from, they can pop into my head out of nowhere. Other times, I have meditated and slowly ideas and inspiration show up that way. Usually, when I go for a walk or drive, the environment I’m in will present ideas too.

Tell us what you are looking when trying to achieve your sounds. Do you experiment a lot or have a clear idea of what you want?

Peter: We have a lot of material in the bank. For this last album, it became more about which songs from our song bank do we include on the lineup. I personally like many genres of music, but we wanted to keep it focused. That’s why we had our scope be Indie-Rock, Shoegaze and Dream Pop.

Abby: There is a lot of compromise, especially because our musical tastes and backgrounds are so different. We are pretty harsh critics to one another, but I think it’s a good thing for the end result.

Explain your songwriting process.

Peter: It always starts with the music. I’ll spend time contrasting chords and notes together and see where it goes. Usually I’ll flesh that out into a segment -- like a chorus or verse -- once I have enough segments, it’s like assembling pieces to a puzzle. Then, a song is about to be born if all the pieces fit.

Abby will sometimes help with arrangements and deliver a nice melody. We typically write stream-of-conscious style lyrics, and generally prefer to keep the meaning vague.

Abby: Lots of time on the upright piano - lyrics on napkins, books, or jotted on my phone and computer. I’m constantly jotting lines to future songs in random places. Lyrics/melody are pretty quick if I write the music, can be much longer process and challenging if I’m putting lyrics/melody on music Peter wrote.

Describe your palette of sound.

Abby: A favorite fuzzy blanket after a long walk in the forest.

Peter: Lots of reverb. Mainly the vocals, keys and guitar are the most effects heavy. Otherwise the bass and drums are always dry. Abby has switched from Nord to the Mellotron for a more dialed in retro sound, while I love pedals, and use a lot of reverb, distortion, delay, super chorus and flanger.

Who would you want as a dream producer, and why?

Peter: Probably, Nigel Godrich. He’s just produced so many incredible acts that I respect. I think he would easily get our sound too.

Abby: Bjork for her epic elf wisdom!

If you could guest on someone else’s album, who would it be and why? What would you play?

Abby: I’m a huge fan of Melody’s Echo Chamber, Cornelius, Yo La Tengo, Stereolab, Munya, Yumi Zouma, and Jay Som. I’ll contribute in any way they’d have me, backup vocals, tambourine, cowbell, piano.

Peter: Guitar for King Krule. I think I could write a bunch of great riffs for that band. It would also be loads of fun to play guitar in Hum, sometimes you just want to rock out to something low and heavy.

What musical skills would you like to acquire or get better at?

Peter - cello, drums and piano.

Abby - guitar & bass

Is there a band that if they didn’t exist you wouldn’t be making the music you make?

Peter: Would be Nirvana or David Bowie.

What are some places around the world that you hope to play with your band?

Abby: Paris, London, Milan, Copenhagen, Tokyo, Canada, Australia, & New Zealand.

Peter: The same. Would also add Mexico City, São Paulo, Reykjavik, Amsterdam, Berlin, Madrid and Barcelona.

When is the next album/EP due?

Abby: We just released “Hidden Cinema” and have lots of music videos we are working on. We plan on recording some new songs in the spring.

Some artists you recommend.

Abby: A newer band I like is L I P S (England). Also: Say Sue Me, Sweet Trip, The White Shoes and Couples Company, Ducktails, Kikagaku Moyo, Painted Zeros, Men I Trust, Sugar Candy Mountain, No Vacation.

Peter: NIIGHTS, Tape Waves, Toledo, Tennis System, Donny Benét, Palehound, Julia Shapiro, Turnover, RINCS, Lacing, Jay Som

Anything else you want your fans to know?

Abby: We love you!

DAY & DREAM ON THE NET

Their music: Spotify, Bandcamp

Their website: dayanddreamband.com

Their Social Media: Facebook, Instragram Their latest video:

[seanmalatesta]

Leader: Know Thy Biases

3 Ways to Recognize Them and See Around Them

The road sign in my home state of Washington read: “Litter and it will hurt.” I didn’t think twice about it, but our guests from nearby Vancouver, British Columbia, mouthed the slogan out loud and could hardly believe their ears. They were traveling with us to a birthday party of a mutual friend.

“Of all the nerve,” said the wife with a shudder. “I get what State officials are trying to do with their ecology campaign, but you’d never see a sign like that in Canada. That message is way too impolite. People would take it as a threat.”

Spot the biases

I chuckled. I’d read that sign lots of times, and it had always struck me as a realistic warning about litter’s impact on the environment, not a personal threat. But the comment from my Canadian friend reminded me we all have our own biases. We see things through a particular lens that’s been shaped and molded by our respective subcultures.

Politeness is highly valued in Canada. Citizens from the Great White North tend to go out of their way to say “thank you, excuse me, and sorry.” In ’Merica, we like our road signs to reflect our politics. Blunt.

“ Every leader needs to learn to overcome the harmful effects of behaving (or thinking) with blind spots.

—MARCUS BROTHERTON

Are you aware of your own biases? Every leader needs to learn to overcome the harmful effects of behaving (or thinking) with blind spots.

Newsroom lessons

Back when I worked as a newspaper reporter, we were trained to ferret out bias—both other people’s and our own. A bias is any particular slant we embrace that’s either for or against something or someone. A bias can rear its head in an outlook, a tendency, an attitude, an opinion. Biases usually develop over time. We might not even know they’re there.

Not all biases are harmful. For instance, maybe you were trained to value the next generation’s contributions. So you instinctively prize internships and constructive role modeling on the job site. It’s possible to hold a positive bias toward helping people, the same way you might have a positive bias toward avoiding donuts and choosing spinach at mealtime.

Yet biases are often negative. We’ve all heard stories of unfair prejudice against someone’s ethnicity, disability, orientation, or religion. If you avoid certain people or tell jokes about them, then that’s most likely a bias. If you infuse an unwarranted opinion into a report or speech, that’s most likely bias. If you’re part of an group that practices selectivity in hiring, admitting, or serving people, that may well be a bias too, often with legal ramifications.

What’s the risk of letting bias continue unhindered? When we’re blinded by a bias, we’re shortsighted or unfair in our thinking. Our communication can be hampered. Our biases can come across as insensitive or rude, as in the case of the road sign. Ultimately, our innovation and performance are stifled.

Here are three actions help combat bias:

1. Develop empathy for others

Ask yourself: What’s it like to be your customer, walk through your doorway, and encounter the product or service you’re selling? Learn to see through your customer’s eyes, not your own.

Dr. Shelly Cunningham, a graduate school professor of mine, constantly taught that any target audience is not a homogeneous mass of people who all think and behave the same way. Rather, it’s a loose collection of individuals, all with distinct personalities, worldviews, and needs.

For instance, in a university classroom, a 50-year-old Korean woman might sit alongside a 21-year-old football star. What’s it like to be that Korean woman? Imagine yourself in her shoes. Or put yourself in the cleats of the 21-year-old. The life experiences of both students will be different, yet a savvy educator works to reach them both.

2. Seek broader perspectives

I recently helped a young Marine write his memoir. The book’s acquisition editor, a man who lived and worked in New York City, received another job and left the company midway through the process. So the project was transferred to a different editor, a woman who lived in the U.K.

It was insightful to see their distinct editorial styles at work. The Marine and I saw the difference in specific word choices and sections of text that were either bolstered or cut. The U.K. editor helped broaden the book’s readership beyond a solely male, military, or American perspective. Ultimately, the book will be more powerful thanks to the new editor.

The key for any of us is to intentionally run ideas, messages, and products by people who hold different perspectives than we do. Beware of groupthink. Welcome the unique voices who can broaden understanding.

3. Audit your business for bias

Psychologists tell us that biases are seldom rooted in antagonism. We don’t become biased because we deliberately set out to harm others. Rather, our brains create biases as a way to “navigate the world with marginal effort.”

Conscious decision making uses up a surprising amount of mental energy. So our brains prefer running on default. We tend to make decisions automatically, almost unconsciously, lumping situations and people together, going with what’s convenient, grabbing at the lowest hanging fruit on our mental branches. Problem is, what’s convenient might not work best—or reflect reality.

“ We might not be able to escape all our biases, but we can become aware of them, challenge them, and adapt our viewpoints and practices accordingly.

—MARCUS BROTHERTON

It takes work to see and break biases. The key is to develop systems to regularly and deliberately look for our blind spots and then help us overcome. Biases can limit opportunities. We need to constantly ask: What biases might be getting in the way? And then take steps to overcome.

The key is to develop empathy, seek broadened perspectives, and consistently reflect on and test our own views and values.

We might not be able to escape all our biases, but we can become aware of them, challenge them, and adapt our viewpoints and practices accordingly. Ultimately, this helps us become better leaders. We might even be able to put up road signs that are blunt and polite.

from Michael Hyatt, Your Virtual Mentor https://ift.tt/2NcObqP via IFTTT

[kacydeneen]

Sen. McCain Leaves Complicated Political Legacy

U.S. Sen. John McCain said last year that he wanted to be remembered for his service to his country and that is how nearly every lawmaker and many of the journalists who covered him have paid tribute to him after his death.

But there is another reaction playing out over McCain's legacy as well, less mentioned in the running cable news commentary but present in comment threads on Facebook and Twitter.

Some on both sides of the political spectrum are refusing to join in the tributes to a man who styled himself as a maverick determined to go his own way and who left behind a complicated legacy over his more than 60 years of service.

McCain, 81, famously voted against the repeal of the Affordable Care Act, or Obamacare, but then eliminated the the individual mandate on which it depended when he supported the Republican tax bill. There was that time he shared a mean spirited, homophobic joke about then 18-year-old Chelsea Clinton in 2008, telling a fundraising dinner, “Do you know why Chelsea Clinton is so ugly? Because Janet Reno is her father.”

McCain worked across the aisle with Democrats such as Sen. Ted Kennedy, with whom he proposed an immigration reform bill, and with fellow veteran former Sen. John Kerry on reconciling with Hanoi. But in 2000, he refused to apologize for using a racial slur against his North Vietnamese prison guards, a stand that earned him quick censure.

“I hate the gooks,” he told reporters while campaigning for the GOP presidential nomination. “I will hate them as long as I live.”

Politicians who tried to breach the partisan divide found themselves facing accusations of betraying their beliefs. A tweet from New York’s Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, a progressive candidate for the House, in which she said McCain’s “legacy represents an unparalleled example of human decency and American service,” elicited attacks on the senator and frustration toward her. “No, no, no Alexandria. He was a war criminal, hands down. You are young, please reconsider your opinion,” wrote one follower.

And when civil rights icon Rep. John Lewis, Democrat of Georgia, tweeted that McCain was “a warrior for peace,” one reader asked of Lewis, “Weren’t you protesting during the civil rights movement? Do you think he would have supported you, as you were getting sprayed with fire hoses and beaten with batons? He would have defended the police.”

McCain himself left a letter to his country in which he appealed to his fellow Americans to love the United States the way he did, and appeared to criticize Trump without naming the president.

“We weaken our greatness when we confuse our patriotism with tribal rivalries that have sown resentment and hatred and violence i all the corners of the globe,” he wrote. “We weaken it when we hide behind walls, rather than tear them down, when we doubt the power of our ideals, rather than true them to be the great force for change they have always been.”

He wrote that although Americans sometimes vilify each other in public debates, they have so much more in common than in disagreement.

“If only we remember that and give each other the benefit of the presumption that we all love our country we will get through these challenging times,” he wrote. “We will come through them stronger than before. We always do.”

But is that still true or is the country so fractured, so angry, so polarized that Americans can no longer see anything in common with their political opponents?

On the left, detractors do not forgive McCain’s selection of former Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin as his running mate during the 2008 presidential race and his hawkish stances on Iraq and Iran. He joked about bombing Iran during a campaign appearance when he sang a snatch of the Beach Boys’ classic “Barbara Ann” substituting the words: “Bomb, bomb, bomb.”

During that race, he deferred to South Carolina over whether the Confederate battle flag should be removed from the Statehouse instead of calling for it to be taken down, a decision he later apologized for. And in a new book and documentary he expressed regret about choosing Palin over former Connecticut Sen. Joseph Lieberman, a Democrat who became an independent — though without criticizing Palin’s performance, which some people say opened the door for President Donald Trump’s populism and celebrity culture.

On the right, McCain was lambasted as a RINO, or Republican in name only, who defied Trump and his party on Obamacare, and was accused of being part of the so-called “deep state” — permanent government officials, who were working to oust Trump. 

Trump was angry that after the 2016 election, McCain had given the FBI a copy of a dossier detailing unsubstatiated salacious allegations against the president. McCain had learned of the dossier from a retired British diplomat while at a security forum in Canada, and later passed a copy to the FBI. The 35 pages of research memos written by Christopher Steele, a retired British spy, allege a conspiracy between Trump's campaign and the Russian government to help Trump win the election and include unsubstantiated reports of Trump meeting with Russian prostitutes.

“Upon examination of the contents, and unable to make a judgment about their accuracy, I delivered the information to the director of the FBI. That has been the extent of my contact with the FBI or any other government agency regarding this issue,” McCain said in a statement.

He disagreed with hard-line immigration policies emerging under Trump, who in an op-ed published in USA Today in 2015 accused McCain of pushing “amnesty” during his time as a senator.

McCain in his last book, “The Restless Wave,” countered that some politicians were racists. 

“Whatever their reasons, the cynical and the ignorant promotion of false information and unnecessary fear have the same outcome,” he wrote with his co-author, Mark Salter. “Decent, hardworking people who mean no harm are blamed for crime, unemployment, failing schools, and various other ills, and become in the eyes of many the objects of hate and fear.”

His Vietnam record was mocked by some — Trump famously said that because McCain was captured, he was not a hero -- and though he supported wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, he fought back against interrogation methods he called torture.

When Democrats released a report on the harsh methods in 2014, and most Republicans were muted in their response, McCain was not. He said he knew from his own experience that the abuse of prisoners produced more bad intelligence than good.

“Our enemies act without conscience,” he said. “We must not.”

The rancor between McCain and the president was on full display in the year after McCain was diagnosed with brain cancer and he became known as one Republican unafraid to stand up to Trump.

McCain called Trump’s summit with Russian President Vladimir Putin “a tragic mistake” and accused Trump of failing to defend America as “a republic of free people dedicated to the cause of liberty at home and abroad.” The antipathy continued to spill out after McCain’s death when Trump initially declined to release a statement honoring the senator and raised the U.S. flag over the White House on Monday while Congressional flags remained lowered to half staff. By the end of the day the White House flag had been lowered again.

McCain’s circle meanwhile announced the president would not attend his funeral.

His willingness to take on Trump might have contributed to the fact that more Democrats than Republicans had a positive view of McCain. Before the 2008 election, 15 percent of Democrats had a positive view of McCain, compared to 91 percent of Republicans. But last year, an NBC/WSJ poll found that 52 percent of Democrats and only 35 percent of Republicans had a positive view.

That personal dislike aside, McCain voted in line with Trump’s position 83 percent of the time, according to an analysis done by FiveThirtyEight. Whether that showed independence or a lockstep loyalty to his party despite disagreements is part of the debate.

His fellow politicians offered their own contrasting views of McCain.

“John puts things in terms of black and white, right and wrong,” then-Sen. Tim Hutchinson, a Republican from Arkansas, told The Washington Post in 2000. “If you disagree with him, you’re wrong. He doesn’t see that there could be legitimate differences of opinion that deserve respect.”

But former U.S. Sen. Russ Feingold, a Democrat from Wisconsin, wrote in The New York Times: 

“The fact is, as passionate as John was about his positions, he truly valued hearing all sides and was a good listener.” 

Sen. McCain Leaves Complicated Political Legacy published first on Miami News

[trendingnewsb]

Prince Harry ‘thrilled’ after announcing he is to marry Meghan Markle

Couple appear in public for first time since announcing their engagement and give 20-minute television interview

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are to marry in the spring after announcing their engagement and admitting they were totally unprepared for the media storm that surrounded the first months of their relationship.

The prince said he was thrilled to be marrying the US actor after an 18-month romance, and the couple presented themselves to the world with a photocall and 20-minute television interview at Kensington Palace.

Play Video

2:47

Who is Meghan Markle? video profile

On Tuesday, Palace aides are expected to announce the venue for the wedding and details of the first royal engagements that Markle will undertake with the prince as she is quickly assimilated into the royal household.

In the TV interview, conducted by Mishal Husain, they revealed how the prince proposed to his future bride at his Nottingham Cottage home in the grounds of Kensington Palace on what was a standard typical night in for us while they were roasting a chicken for dinner.

Markle said it was just an amazing surprise, it was so sweet and natural and very romantic. He got on one knee … I could barely let you finish proposing. I said, can I say yes now?

Markle, whose mother is African American and father is white, also described as disheartening and discriminatory some of the media coverage she received as Prince Harrys girlfriend because it centred on her racial background.

Markle admitted that even though she had starred in TV drama Suits, the media coverage had been a learning curve and said, I did not have any understanding of what it would be like.

Harry declined to give details about the engagement, but joked: Of course it was romantic. Photograph: Daniel Leal-Olivas/AFP/Getty Images

That coverage forced the prince to take the rare step last year of publicly attacking the British press for introducing racial overtones into the reporting of their relationship.

Among the headlines that were believed to have angered the palace was one on Mailonline.com that read: Harrys girl is (almost) straight outta Compton, referring to the city in Los Angeles that has become known for gang violence.

The announcement of their engagement was made by Clarence House on behalf of Prince Charles earlier on Monday. Later, the Prince of Wales, speaking for himself and the Duchess of Cornwall, said: Were both thrilled. We hope theyll be very happy indeed.

Profile

Who is Meghan Markle?

Show Hide

Who is Meghan Markle?

Meghan Markle is an American actor, best known for her role in the hit series Suits. She has described herself as an actress, a writer, the editor-in-chief of my lifestyle brand the Tig, a pretty good cook, and a firm believer in handwritten notes. She has also campaigned for humanitarian causes.

The 36-year-old grew up in Los Angeles. She studied at a girls Roman Catholic college there before attending Northwestern University. Recently she has lived in Toronto. She is the daughter of a clinical therapist and a TV lighting designer. Markle has written about her mixed heritage, describing herself as a strong, confident mixed-race woman. She was married once before, to film producer Trevor Engelson, but the pair were divorced in 2013.

Since news of her relationship with Prince Harry broke in 2016, she has closed her blog and given an interview in which she described the couple as really happy and in love. She said: Nothing about me changed. Ive never defined myself by my relationship. She will become a duchess or princess when the couple wed.

Photograph: Picture Perfect/REX/Shutterstock/Rex Features

Was this helpful?

Thank you for your feedback.

Prince Harry said he designed her engagement ring himself using a stone sourced from Botswana, where the couple went camping in the first weeks of their relationship, and two smaller gems from Princess Dianas jewellery collection to make sure that shes with us on this crazy journey together.

Markles parents, Thomas Markle and Doria Ragland, said: We are incredibly happy for Meghan and Harry. Our daughter has always been a kind and loving person. To see her union with Harry, who shares the same qualities, is a source of great joy for us as parents. We wish them a lifetime of happiness and are very excited for their future together.

Thomas Markle is an Emmy award-winning former television lighting director who worked on shows including Married With Children and General Hospital. He married Ragland, a yoga instructor, in 1979 and they divorced in 1988.

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle wave after posing for the media. Photograph: Alastair Grant/AP

The Queen, Prince Philip, prime minister Theresa May, and Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn were among others who offered their congratulations.

Downing Street moved quickly to dampen speculation that there would be a bank holiday to celebrate the wedding. The prime ministers spokesman said: There are no plans for a bank holiday. There isnt precedent in this area. There was no bank holiday for Prince Andrews wedding in 1986 or Prince Edwards in 1999.

However, the wedding of Princess Anne, the Queens second-eldest child, and Mark Phillips in 1973 was marked by a bank holiday.

Tourists film Prince Harry and Meghan Markle at Kensington Palace on Monday. Photograph: Nick Ansell/PA

The wedding ceremony is likely to be conducted by Justin Welby, the archbishop of Canterbury, who said he was delighted by the news and had been impressed by the princes immense love for his family.

A royal source said it would be a happy church wedding, although the date is yet to be fixed. The Duchess of Cambridge is due to give birth to her third child in April.

Q&A

Share your reaction to Meghan Markle and Prince Harry’s engagement

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You can tell us what you think about the royal engagement using our encrypted form. We will feature some of your contributions in our reporting.

Only the Guardian will have access to your contribution and one of our journalists may contact you to discuss further.

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Locals in the View Park-Windsor Hills suburb of Los Angeles where Ragland lives were also upbeat. Mike Young, 56, out walking his pitbull Tipper, said: I think theyre a respectable family, he said, referring to the Windsors. Id be excited to meet Prince Harry.

The couple said they were set up by a friend on a blind date and about a month after two dates in London in summer 2016 they went camping in Botswana.

Timeline

Prince Harry’s relationship with Meghan Markle

Show Hide

July 2016

The pair meet in London through friends and begin a relationship.

30 October 2016

News breaks that the prince and Markle are dating.

8 November 2016

Kensington Palace confirms in an unprecedented statement that they are dating. The prince attacks the media over its abuse and harassment of his girlfriend.

11 November 2017

Markle is spotted in London amid unconfirmed reports she is enjoying her first stay at Kensington Palace since the relationship was made public.

10 January 2017

Markle reportedly meets the Duchess of Cambridge and Princess Charlotte for the first time in London.

5 September 2017

The engagement looks set when Markle graces the cover of US magazine Vanity Fair and speaks openly about Harry for the first time, revealing: Were two people who are really happy and in love.

24 September 2017

Markle makes her first appearance at an official engagement attended by the prince when she attends the Invictus Games opening ceremony in Toronto, Canada although the pair sit about 18 seats apart.

19 October 2017

It emerges that the prince has taken Markle to meet his grandmother, the Queen, whose permission they need to marry. They met over afternoon tea at Buckingham Palace.

22 October 2017

The princes aides are reported to have been told to start planning for a royal wedding, with senior members of the royal family asked to look at their diaries to shortlist a series of suitable weekends in 2018.

21 November 2017

Markle is spotted in London, prompting speculation she is preparing for an engagement announcement.

27 November 2017

Clarence House announces the engagement, and the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh say they are delighted for the couple and wish them every happiness.

Was this helpful?

Thank you for your feedback.

I managed to persuade her to come and join me in Botswana, the prince said. And we camped out with each other under the stars. She came and joined me for five days out there, which was absolutely fantastic.

It was hugely refreshing to be able to get to know someone who isnt necessarily within your circle, doesnt know much about me, I dont know much about her. So to be able to start almost afresh, right from the beginning, getting to know each other, step by step and then taking that huge leap of only two dates and then going effectively on holiday together in the middle of nowhere and you know sharing a tent together and all that kind of stuff. It was fantastic.

The official announcement. Photograph: AP

He added that he thought Markle and Diana would be as thick as thieves, without question, I think she would be over the moon, jumping up and down, you know so excited for me. It is days like today when I really miss having her around and miss being able to share the happy news.

Republic, the anti-monarchy campaign for an elected head of state, issued a one word statement: Congratulations.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2iV5T1L

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2pUHmQh via Viral News HQ

[shg11]

Couple appear in public for first time since announcing their engagement and give 20-minute television interview

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are to marry in the spring after announcing their engagement and admitting they were totally unprepared for the media storm that surrounded the first months of their relationship.

The prince said he was thrilled to be marrying the US actor after an 18-month romance, and the couple presented themselves to the world with a photocall and 20-minute television interview at Kensington Palace.

Play Video

2:47

Who is Meghan Markle? video profile

On Tuesday, Palace aides are expected to announce the venue for the wedding and details of the first royal engagements that Markle will undertake with the prince as she is quickly assimilated into the royal household.

In the TV interview, conducted by Mishal Husain, they revealed how the prince proposed to his future bride at his Nottingham Cottage home in the grounds of Kensington Palace on what was a standard typical night in for us while they were roasting a chicken for dinner.

Markle said it was just an amazing surprise, it was so sweet and natural and very romantic. He got on one knee ... I could barely let you finish proposing. I said, can I say yes now?

Markle, whose mother is African American and father is white, also described as disheartening and discriminatory some of the media coverage she received as Prince Harrys girlfriend because it centred on her racial background.

Markle admitted that even though she had starred in TV drama Suits, the media coverage had been a learning curve and said, I did not have any understanding of what it would be like.

Harry declined to give details about the engagement, but joked: Of course it was romantic. Photograph: Daniel Leal-Olivas/AFP/Getty Images

That coverage forced the prince to take the rare step last year of publicly attacking the British press for introducing racial overtones into the reporting of their relationship.

Among the headlines that were believed to have angered the palace was one on Mailonline.com that read: Harrys girl is (almost) straight outta Compton, referring to the city in Los Angeles that has become known for gang violence.

The announcement of their engagement was made by Clarence House on behalf of Prince Charles earlier on Monday. Later, the Prince of Wales, speaking for himself and the Duchess of Cornwall, said: Were both thrilled. We hope theyll be very happy indeed.

Profile

Who is Meghan Markle?

Show Hide

Who is Meghan Markle?

Meghan Markle is an American actor, best known for her role in the hit series Suits. She has described herself as an actress, a writer, the editor-in-chief of my lifestyle brand the Tig, a pretty good cook, and a firm believer in handwritten notes. She has also campaigned for humanitarian causes.

The 36-year-old grew up in Los Angeles. She studied at a girls Roman Catholic college there before attending Northwestern University. Recently she has lived in Toronto. She is the daughter of a clinical therapist and a TV lighting designer. Markle has written about her mixed heritage, describing herself as a strong, confident mixed-race woman. She was married once before, to film producer Trevor Engelson, but the pair were divorced in 2013.

Since news of her relationship with Prince Harry broke in 2016, she has closed her blog and given an interview in which she described the couple as really happy and in love. She said: Nothing about me changed. Ive never defined myself by my relationship. She will become a duchess or princess when the couple wed.

Photograph: Picture Perfect/REX/Shutterstock/Rex Features

Was this helpful?

Thank you for your feedback.

Prince Harry said he designed her engagement ring himself using a stone sourced from Botswana, where the couple went camping in the first weeks of their relationship, and two smaller gems from Princess Dianas jewellery collection to make sure that shes with us on this crazy journey together.

Markles parents, Thomas Markle and Doria Ragland, said: We are incredibly happy for Meghan and Harry. Our daughter has always been a kind and loving person. To see her union with Harry, who shares the same qualities, is a source of great joy for us as parents. We wish them a lifetime of happiness and are very excited for their future together.

Thomas Markle is an Emmy award-winning former television lighting director who worked on shows including Married With Children and General Hospital. He married Ragland, a yoga instructor, in 1979 and they divorced in 1988.

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle wave after posing for the media. Photograph: Alastair Grant/AP

The Queen, Prince Philip, prime minister Theresa May, and Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn were among others who offered their congratulations.

Downing Street moved quickly to dampen speculation that there would be a bank holiday to celebrate the wedding. The prime ministers spokesman said: There are no plans for a bank holiday. There isnt precedent in this area. There was no bank holiday for Prince Andrews wedding in 1986 or Prince Edwards in 1999.

However, the wedding of Princess Anne, the Queens second-eldest child, and Mark Phillips in 1973 was marked by a bank holiday.

Tourists film Prince Harry and Meghan Markle at Kensington Palace on Monday. Photograph: Nick Ansell/PA

The wedding ceremony is likely to be conducted by Justin Welby, the archbishop of Canterbury, who said he was delighted by the news and had been impressed by the princes immense love for his family.

A royal source said it would be a happy church wedding, although the date is yet to be fixed. The Duchess of Cambridge is due to give birth to her third child in April.

Q&A

Share your reaction to Meghan Markle and Prince Harry's engagement

Show Hide

You can tell us what you think about the royal engagement using our encrypted form. We will feature some of your contributions in our reporting.

Only the Guardian will have access to your contribution and one of our journalists may contact you to discuss further.

Was this helpful?

Thank you for your feedback.

Locals in the View Park-Windsor Hills suburb of Los Angeles where Ragland lives were also upbeat. Mike Young, 56, out walking his pitbull Tipper, said: I think theyre a respectable family, he said, referring to the Windsors. Id be excited to meet Prince Harry.

The couple said they were set up by a friend on a blind date and about a month after two dates in London in summer 2016 they went camping in Botswana.

Timeline

Prince Harry's relationship with Meghan Markle

Show Hide

July 2016

The pair meet in London through friends and begin a relationship.

30 October 2016

News breaks that the prince and Markle are dating.

8 November 2016

Kensington Palace confirms in an unprecedented statement that they are dating. The prince attacks the media over its abuse and harassment of his girlfriend.

11 November 2017

Markle is spotted in London amid unconfirmed reports she is enjoying her first stay at Kensington Palace since the relationship was made public.

10 January 2017

Markle reportedly meets the Duchess of Cambridge and Princess Charlotte for the first time in London.

5 September 2017

The engagement looks set when Markle graces the cover of US magazine Vanity Fair and speaks openly about Harry for the first time, revealing: Were two people who are really happy and in love.

24 September 2017

Markle makes her first appearance at an official engagement attended by the prince when she attends the Invictus Games opening ceremony in Toronto, Canada although the pair sit about 18 seats apart.

19 October 2017

It emerges that the prince has taken Markle to meet his grandmother, the Queen, whose permission they need to marry. They met over afternoon tea at Buckingham Palace.

22 October 2017

The princes aides are reported to have been told to start planning for a royal wedding, with senior members of the royal family asked to look at their diaries to shortlist a series of suitable weekends in 2018.

21 November 2017

Markle is spotted in London, prompting speculation she is preparing for an engagement announcement.

27 November 2017

Clarence House announces the engagement, and the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh say they are delighted for the couple and wish them every happiness.

Was this helpful?

Thank you for your feedback.

I managed to persuade her to come and join me in Botswana, the prince said. And we camped out with each other under the stars. She came and joined me for five days out there, which was absolutely fantastic.

It was hugely refreshing to be able to get to know someone who isnt necessarily within your circle, doesnt know much about me, I dont know much about her. So to be able to start almost afresh, right from the beginning, getting to know each other, step by step and then taking that huge leap of only two dates and then going effectively on holiday together in the middle of nowhere and you know sharing a tent together and all that kind of stuff. It was fantastic.

The official announcement. Photograph: AP

He added that he thought Markle and Diana would be as thick as thieves, without question, I think she would be over the moon, jumping up and down, you know so excited for me. It is days like today when I really miss having her around and miss being able to share the happy news.

Republic, the anti-monarchy campaign for an elected head of state, issued a one word statement: Congratulations.

Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2017/nov/27/prince-harry-to-marry-meghan-markle