#spoken word guest artist

[royboyfanpage]

Hi, I love your page! What are your thoughts on Roy and Connor's relationship?

Hi! Thank you so much, I'm glad you like my posts :) and thank you sososo much for this ask, I love Roy and Connor's relationship and I'm glad I have an opportunity to talk about them. Sorry it's taken me all day to answer, but here you go :)

Short answer? That's his little brother.

Long answer?

I know that "fanon Batfam is canon Arrowfam" is tired and overused, but I really do think that, especially with Roy and Connor, there is some truth to it. While they haven't had too many interactions in canon, there's still a clear arc their relationship takes which I really like.

I don't like Chuck Dixon's Green Arrow run, obviously he's a shitty person but also his writing just isn't for me, but one of the few parts of it I did enjoy was Connor's first meeting with Roy in Green Arrow (1988) #97, prior to Ollie's death. It first establishes one of the most present themes in their relationship, which is the differences in relation to Ollie, and the contrasting experiences of being their father's sons. Roy's the son who grew up with Ollie, he knows him personally, the good and the bad, but his status as Ollie's son is still constantly in question, you can see it back in Longbow Hunters, Ollie calls Roy his son but still denies that that word has meaning ("Roy's a hell of a kid, but he's not mine. Not really.") Whereas Connor, there's never been any doubt that he's Ollie's son, he's his flesh and blood, but he never knew Ollie until he was already in adulthood. He knows Oliver Queen through magazines, but not personally. That's why when Ollie storms off after finding out he's Connor's dad Connor's shocked, but Roy isn't surprised when he hears that from Connor. He knows Ollie, and he knows how his fears of commitment would make him act. While this is only a minor theme of those specific issues where they first met, Roy helping Connor understand what it means to be Oliver Queen's son is one of my favourite parts of their later interaction.

After Ollie's death, there is some tension between Roy and Connor, particularly around Connor joining the JLA in Ollie's place and becoming the new Green Arrow, first mentioned in Teen Titans (1996) #12-

-which is later expanded on in Arsenal #2.

This is really the first time we see Roy and Connor have a heart to heart, and it shows Roy's inferiority complex. Due to tumblr photo limit I can't show more pages for this, but I think the one I chose is the most poignant because, at least in my eyes, it shows the insecurities both of them have in terms of their relation to Ollie, and how each of them address that. Roy's loud, he'll openly speak his mind and say what he feels, and that's why it's primarily about him (that and that it's his mini and Connor's a guest). Roy openly admits feeling inferior to Connor in his position as Ollie's son, even after Ollie's death. Connor, he's quieter about it, and gets spoken over by Roy before he can actually talk about his feelings (which is a pretty consistent problem Connor faces where people expect him to listen but not talk). But you can still see it in his body language, the shadow over his face looking downwards, and while he isn't allowed to finish his sentence you can still tell what he's about to say, that Roy's more of Ollie's son than he is. They both know that the other hasn't actually done anything, but they're not to blame for each feeling their own individual emotions.

They also address the topic of legacy in relation to Ollie in #3, and how there's this unspoken standard to live up to that neither of them ever really can. Roy's Ollie's mentee, his protege, he should be Ollie's legacy, and yet he's not Green Arrow, he's not in the JLA, and he's still coming in second place. Whereas Connor, he is Green Arrow, he's Ollie's legacy, he's in the JLA, but he's a better martial artist than archer.

I wish they'd gotten more opportunities to interact while Ollie was dead because there was SO much potential for them during that period, but alas.

And now, I get to talk about one of my top five comics ever: Boys' Night Out, Green Arrow (2001) #32. Yeah, sure, the whole issue only happened because Ollie wanted Connor out of the house, but it's also the first comic to really explore the brotherly relationship between them, particularly in terms of Roy being older. Roy takes Connor bookshopping despite his own boredom-

-And then takes him to a strip club, where they have another heart to heart.

This page specifically is so important to me, because it's one of the few instances where Connor's actually being heard. Particularly in the 2000s but also in the 90s, a lot of Connor's character was defined by him being the voice of reason, the one who'll talk people down and listen to their problems, which ignores the fact that he's actually a pretty young guy, usually younger than the people he's helping (I suck with ages, I'm pretty sure he was 18 when he was first introduced which, by rough estimate using the Lian Method, would make him around 20-22 in the 2000s). I'm not saying that diminishes his emotional intelligence, he's clearly very emotionally intelligent, but it is a lot of pressure to put on someone that young to constantly be the one holding his family together. That's why I think this whole issue is so important for Connor, it's his chance to actually just be, and Roy's the best person for that. Despite what some fanon and canon characterisations suggest, Roy is absolutely not emotionally immature. Hell, you could make a pretty solid argument that part of the reason he took Connor to a strip club in the first place was to bring up the issue of Connor's sexuality. While asexuality wasn't as popularised as a term back then as it is today, the idea of Connor being queer was very present during Green Arrow (2001), albeit often used as a punchline, and while they're there Connor even gets referred to as a "friend of Madonna" by one of the workers. And while in Roy's head Connor was either gay or just had a low libido at that time, his "you're you and Ollie loves you" speech could very easily be interpreted as acceptance of his sexuality, even before Connor himself had figured it out. It acknowledges that, while Connor's good at helping other people work through their own problems, he's still a young person struggling with his identity, not understanding why he's so different to those around him, even his father. And Roy picks up on that, and tells him that it doesn't matter who or what he is, that what matters most is he's Connor, and him being Connor is enough to warrant love and support.

But Roy also doesn't treat Connor any differently to how he'd treat anyone else. When Connor says something Roy disagrees with, he calls him out

And I think Roy's treatment of Connor as an equal is very important. He doesn't depend on him or treat him like he's this pinnacle of wisdom, but he also doesn't coddle him and treat him like a baby. He calls his ass out, when he needs to! Roy's still a very loud and outspoken person, and he's not gonna change that because he and Connor had a heart to heart. I feel like a big problem with a lot of characters who enter into a family dynamic is that sometimes their writers change who they are at their core in order to have them fit into a specific role in the nuclear family, and while yeah, Roy's absolutely playing the role of an older brother in this issue, he's still Roy Harper, which I think is crucial. And conversely, Connor also calls Roy out when he does something he doesn't like!

I'm running low on the photo limit so apologies for the quality of this collage, and I couldn't fit it in frame but for context Roy just knocked out a robber who Connor was trying to talk down. Connor explains to Roy his reasonings, and Roy apologises! I think this also highlights the differences in terms of their characters. They're both very protective of their families, but Roy tends to act first whereas Connor thinks things through. Roy saw Connor with a gun pointed at him and immediately took action, which contrasts Connor's reaction when Roy gets shot in Outsiders #6

Connor's more of a rational thinker in times of crisis, and he tends to try and think things through and avoid rash decisions, whereas Roy's very much an immediate responder if his family's at stake.

And then it ends with them actually acknowledging each other as brothers!

The ending of Boys' Night Out is so important to me, honestly, and it demonstrates one of the most important features of their relationship- trying to figure out what brotherhood means. There's not a big hug at the end, there doesn't need to be. Just an acknowledgement that they're in each others lives, that they're brothers, and it doesn't matter what that means. It's cool. I adore this issue so much, I had to make like half the post about it because it's so good and it's such a good example of why filler issues are needed. Sure, Williamson's run has it's sweet moments, but an issue like this where two characters just get to interact in a low stake scenario will always be so much more impactful than one hug in a big event.

So, yeah, I think my short answer sums it up pretty well. They're the brothers ever.

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 2

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 6.1k Warnings: mention of injury; implied ptsd; implied emotional abuse; stun guns and falling unconscious

Previous chapter │ Next chapter

Her master was stood next to her, a look of disgust in his red eyes as they were studying the squad of clone troopers in front of them, their shiny, white armor creating a stark contrast against the barren landscape. Was she on Geonosis?

“Padawan, we’re leaving”, he said coldly, wasting no time to start walking back towards the gunship behind them.

“Leaving? What do you mean, leaving? Anakin and Obi-Wan need our help!”, Lexie said, turning towards him but not moving from her position.

“I do not know what the Council is thinking but I will not debase myself by fighting alongside some things created in a laboratory!” he replied in the same cold tone.

“H-How can you say that? These are people”, she yelled, arm outstretched towards the clones behind her. “Can you not feel them through the Force? They’re people, and they’re waiting on your guidance!”

Master al’Prani took a few steps towards his Padawan, stopping right in front of her. “If you want to stay and risk your life by the side of these… science experiments, then be my guest, but I will not do it. The Council has gone too far this time.” Lexie was stunned by his emotionlessness, not even a slight frown visible on the blue skin of his face. She knew he was cold, hell, he must’ve been one of the coldest Jedi in the entire Order, but this was something else. This was cruel, and wrong, and not the Jedi way.

“The Council has given us our orders”, she said, trying to sound as cold and emotionless as her master did.

“And now you want to listen to the Council”, al’Prani retorted immediately. “You’re being a hypocrite, Padawan.”

Was he right? Doubt crept in Lexie’s mind as it wondered to the times she had ignored the Council’s instructions during past missions, she wasn’t exactly a rule follower and her master knew that better than anyone. But I’ve only ever done what I thought was right, in order to help other people. And I know this isn’t right. I have to stay, I have to help Anakin and Obi-Wan.

All of a sudden Master al’Prani was not in front of her anymore. When did he leave? Had anything else been spoken between the two of them? What was she going to do now? She was alone, with a squad of soldiers behind her that she could feel were anxiously awaiting her orders. How was she supposed to give them orders? The robes she was wearing felt like they were suffocating her. And they were black? She swore they were the burgundy ones she always wore just a moment ago, what was going on?

“Commander?”, the helmet-modulated voice came from behind her, making her jump.

“Com-Commander? No I… don’t call me that please”, Lexie pleaded, her hand lifted to her chest, fingers rubbing small circles of her sternum.

“What should we call you then, Sir?”

“Lexie, just Lexie”, she snapped unintentionally. Her breaths were short and shallow, her lungs felt like they were burning, like they were not filling with enough air. She tried to force herself to take deep breaths, but they were still too fast. The clone trooper did not know how to respond, he was conflicted, what she had asked was against protocol. But she was starting to hyperventilate, he needed to help her.

“Alright, Lexie”, he hesitated a moment but then stepped closer, his left hand resting on her shoulder as the right one swiftly removed his helmet. “I need you to breath, nice and slow”.

Lexie looked at the man in front of her, taking in his dark hair and the sharp features of his face, as if he had been carved by an artist. Her eyes found his and she was left speechless, lost in the gorgeous golden-brown hue of the irises and the kindness with which he was gazing at her. She followed his request, taking a slow, deep breath in, her eyes not leaving his.

“Good, that’s good”, the clone said as she exhaled. He held her gaze as she took more deep breaths. “Now, Lexie, what do you want us to do? We’re waiting for your orders.”

“M-my orders? I don’t… I don’t think I can give orders, I-I don’t have military training, I… I don’t know what I’m doing”, she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“You’re a Jedi, Lexie, you got this”, he reassured her, his grip on her shoulder tightening for a moment as one side of his lips lifted in a faint smile.

His words were working, or maybe it was his unfaltering gaze. Lexie felt calmer, safe even, as she continued to draw deep, slow breaths. She closed her eyes, trying to centre herself. “Okay, I-I got this, I…. Thank you…”, she paused expectantly, eyes finding his again and waiting for the trooper to tell her his name.

“My designation is CT-75…” 

Her alarm whisked her away from the dream. Or was it a memory? The memory she’s been so desperately trying to find through the fog of her mind? She cursed under her breath as her hand came to her chest. Her heart was racing, just as it had done in her dream. No, memory. It has to have been a memory.

She got up from her bed and made her way to her desk, opening the drawer in which the datapad was stored and finding the report she must have read a hundred times by now. It was written very matter-of-factly, no details actually given on what Master al’Prani had said, just simply stating his refusal to take command and the fact that he left before the fighting had started. And no mentions of her having a panic attack, or of the trooper who had calmed her down. Her heart fluttered as she remembered the kind look in his eyes. Stop. There’s no time for this.

She started getting changed, putting on clean underwear and a sports bra, black trousers and a black tank top in lieu of an undertunic, she could never stand those. She hesitated as she reached for the black overtunic, deciding to go back to her closet to find her burgundy one instead and doing the same for her tabard and sash. She was done mourning the loss of Master al’Prani.

She ran a hand through her straight hair thinking she should get it cut soon, it’s getting too long. For now, she decided to put it into a tight braid, starting the plait at the top of her head. Her entire body shivered as her fingers ran over the scar. Stop thinking about it, she thought as snippets of her dream came back to her.

It was a bit ironic really, she had spent weeks forcing herself to try and remember anything about Geonosis, and now that she finally did she was trying her hardest to force it out of her mind. But she had to stay focused, she was a Knight now, after all, she had to prove to herself that she deserved it. And she wasn’t even sure if what she saw was an actual memory, there’s no way she would’ve felt all that when looking at a clone trooper right? she didn’t last night and she had been surrounded by a bunch of them at the 79s.

She finished applying some makeup, opting for a more natural look that would complement her best features, which she thought were her eyes and lips. She didn’t care much about her eye colour though, the brown of the irises seemed boring to her, nowhere near as beautiful as the amber hue of that trooper’s. “Stop! Just kriffing stop!”, Lexie said out loud, exasperated with her mind.

She took one last look in the mirror, reassuring herself that she looked normal. She was glad to finally notice some colour back on her face, having been shocked to look at her reflection after waking up from the coma, the months spent under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room turning her white skin into a sickly, pale colour, almost like a corpse. But thankfully it looked better now, the hours she had spent in the courtyard near the Great Tree whenever it was a sunny day had really helped improve her complexion.

Lexie threw her black cloak on, grabbed her lightsabers and hurriedly left the Temple. Her alarm had been set so early, how in the stars did she always manage to leave this late? She would have to walk really fast in order to get to the barracks in a decent time. As she started walking she smiled, thinking about seeing Anakin again. He was the person she felt the closest to, caring about him as if he were her little brother. They had bonded quickly once Anakin came to the Temple, merely three years after she had, and the same age she was when she was brought into the Order, so she felt an immediate connection due to their similar circumstances.

She had been lonely during those three years, mourning the loss of her mother and the fact that she was forced to flee her home planet. She missed Seccaya, she missed the rivers and the mountains, she felt so confined and claustrophobic in the steel ecumenopolis of Coruscant.

She and Anakin were outsiders together. Even if the other younglings in the Temple were polite and respectful towards them, reticence could still be felt by the two newcomers. Therefore, both of them had felt the need to stick together, to rely on each other for emotional support. But they also pushed each other in training, both having the same need to catch up to their peers and their competitive natures were an even match.

The past few years also helped strengthen their bond, her master getting less and less interested in training her and insisting that Obi-Wan take her off his hands every now and then. Lexie sometimes spent weeks at a time with Anakin and his master, accompanying them on missions and training by their side. It had been months, though, since she’s last seen him, training together the day before he and Obi-Wan departed to resolve a border dispute on Ansion.

She started to worry, wondering how Anakin might have changed in the months she’d been in a coma, so much had changed around him after all. She, on the other hand, felt unchanged, as if she was still a lost Padawan. But Anakin had been a Knight for months now, and a general in charge of an entire battalion; how would she be able to catch up?

Her feet stopped in front of the entrance to the barracks. This is it now, no turning back. Lexie took a deep breath and tried her best to clear her mind. She was a Jedi Knight now, and a general, she had to act like one. She cringed internally as she recalled the previous night. She shouldn’t have gone into the 79s, what did those three troopers think of her? She tried to reassure herself that she had not been that drunk, and she acted normally, right? She didn’t dance, she didn’t say anything embarrassing, she didn’t flirt with anyone. Okay, maybe a little bit with that Fives guy but that barely counts.

“Well, well… look who finally decided to join the war effort”, Anakin’s teasing voice jolted her from her thoughts.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun now, could I?”, Lexie answered with a smile.

“It’s really good to see you, Lexie”, he continued as his gloved hand came to squeeze her shoulder, his voice lowering slightly. “I was worried about you”.

Lexie’s head turned towards Anakin’s hand on her shoulder. Something felt off about it, unnatural. Her eyes snapped back to Anakin’s face. She didn’t even need to form the question, the alarmed look in her eyes said everything that was needed.

“Count Dooku”, was all he muttered, face frowning in anger as he pronounced the name, withdrawing his hand.

“I am so sorry, Anakin. I tried to get to you I just… couldn’t”, she replied, feeling guilt creep up inside of her. She should’ve done better, she should’ve gotten to him and helped him but she had failed. She was a failure and her friend had lost an arm because of it.

“It’s not your fault, Lexie”, he said, offering her a small, reassuring smile. He then jerked his head, motioning for her to follow. “Come on, I left my Padawan training in the hangar with some of the men”.

“I’m sorry, your what?” Lexie asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Wasn’t exactly my choice. But she’s a skilled Jedi, albite a bit stubborn. Her name is Ahsoka”.

“Well look at you, a proper Jedi Knight with a Padawan and everything. How did the Council let that happen?” she teased.

“Funny”, he said sarcastically. “But you’ll see, they might throw a Padawan on you as well, since you’re a Knight too now, after all. Although you might want to lose this if you want people to believe that”, Anakin said as he tugged on the thin Padawan braid hanging over Lexie’s right shoulder.

Her eyes went wide at the realisation. “Kriff! I totally forgot about it”. She scrambled to try and hide it, intertwining it with the rest of her hair. I need to remember to cut it later.

Anakin chuckled and started walking, Lexie following next to him down the intricate corridors of the barracks. How she was supposed to learn where to go in this durasteel maze she had no idea. She was shocked to notice that all the clone troopers they passed would stop and salute them. She felt stupid for being shocked by that, it was obviously to be expected since they were all soldiers and her and Anakin were generals but it still felt unnatural for her. She had to look at her fellow Jedi, mimicking the way he would nod in acknowledgement. I really hope I can pick all this shit up fast.

She felt him before she saw him, although she wasn’t exactly sure what the feeling was. As they reached the hangar, Lexie’s senses were met by a warmth that felt almost familiar, yet she could not place it. She did, however, know that it was coming from one of the clones stood closer to a wall on the other side of the hangar. He seemed to be a higher-ranking officer, his armor equipped with a pauldron and a kama. One-sided pauldron, that means captain right? Lexie tried to recall the information she knew she must’ve seen in one of the manuals; granted, she hadn’t properly read any of them, regardless of how many time Obi-Wan had insisted she familiarized herself with military procedures and regulations.

The clone’s face was clean, no tattoos of facial hair obscuring his sharp features. His hairstyle was, however, quite unique, hair buzzed short and bleached to a light blond. There was something different about him, something that was nagging at the back of her mind. Lexie couldn’t focus on it, however, her attention drawing to an unusual sight next to the clone, making her stop in her tracks for a moment. A young Togruta girl was on the floor, leaning against the wall, appearing to be unconscious.

“How long did she last this time, Rex?”, Anakin asked loudly, as he made his way towards the clone and the girl.

“1 minute and 54 seconds, Sir”, the clone replied, looking at him then over at Lexie who was now catching up to Anakin.

“Good, she’s improving then”, Anakin said satisfied.

“Umm, Ani, is your Padawan supposed to be unconscious?” Lexie asked with a small frown on her face.

“Well, not if she managed to deflect the blaster shots”, he replied, earning a bigger frown from Lexie. “What? They’re set to stun.”

“Yeah, no, of course, why did I even ask”, she said, rolling her eyes, which made the clone in front of them lift one side of his mouth in a small smile. Lexie realised the clone was watching her intently. Her eyes met his and she was reminded of warm, sweet syrup. She felt her heart skip a beat and quickly moved her gaze back towards Anakin, praying that she was not blushing. What the kriff is wrong with me? One stupid dream and now I’m gonna blush every time I look a clone in the eyes?

 “Well, let’s get back to business”, Anakin said, moving closer to the clone trooper. “Lexie, I want you to meet Captain Rex, the best of the 501st. Rex, this is General Alexis Khalla, she’ll be joining us as co-general of the battalion.”

 Lexie extended her arm towards the Captain who had stood at attention as the introduction was being made. Rex shook her hand, a genuine smile appearing of his face. “It’s good to see you, General.”

  “Umm, nice to meet you too?”, Lexie said, confused by his enthusiasm. A memory came into her mind of a holo-book she read as a child; her favourite character was called Rex, wasn’t he? She pushed the thought away, how is that relevant to anything? The confusion that this random memory generated made her miss the slight disappointment that Rex had felt for a moment. Anakin caught it however, much to Rex’s dismay, and gave him an intrigued look.

“Not to sound out of line, Sir”, the Captain asked after clearing his throat, “but why are we getting a second general?”.

 “The Council felt that they’ve left General Skywalker unsupervised for too long. They hope I’ll be a good influence on him”, Lexie replied, turning her head towards the other Jedi, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“They did not say that”, Anakin said with a chuckle.

 “Those were the exact words”, she assured him holding back a laugh.

“You? A good influence? Unbelievable”, he shook his head. “I will never understand how you got them to believe that.”

“Whatever can you mean?”, Lexie asked in a sweet voice, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence.

“That! The innocent act”. Anakin turned to address a visibly confused Rex, “every single time we would get in trouble during missions it would be me getting the blame and the lecture from Obi-Wan, even though it was her who got us into trouble in the first place”. The Captain glanced at Lexie, slight amusement present in his eyes.

“Oh don’t exaggerate. You got us into plenty of trouble all by yourself”, she laughed.

They were interrupted by the low groans coming from the young Padawan as she was slowly regaining conscience. The Captain moved towards her, extending his arm and helping her back to her feet. “You’re waking up a lost faster, Commander, and you lasted 3 seconds longer this round”.

“Thank you, Rex”, Ahsoka replied, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. She then looked towards her master and noticed Lexie standing next to him. “Master Khalla, you’re here!” she said, excitement visible in her eyes. She approached the Jedi and bowed her head in respect. “I am looking forward to learning from you, and, if I’m honest, it’s such a relief to no longer be the only girl around”.

Lexie chuckled at that. “I look forward to working with you too, Ahsoka”.

“There’ll be time to get to know each other later”, Anakin interrupted. “Get back in the circle Snips, training session isn’t done yet”.

 Lexie was taken aback by Anakin’s authoritative tone of voice and watched as the Padawan did as she was told. Her gaze then moved to the Captain, watching as he put on his helmet, commanding the troopers that had been scattered close by to take back their stances, surrounding Ahsoka and drawing their blasters. She ignited her lighsaber, taking a defensive stance and nodding towards the Captain, who’s powerful voice echoed through the hangar. “Begin!”.

The clones started firing in an arbitrary manner, the Padawan moving swiftly and deflecting the shots. Lexie’s gaze moved back to Rex, who was pacing slowly outside the training circle, taking in his armor, his straight posture, and the fascinating design that adorned his helmet. She wondered what it represented and whether it would be too intrusive to ask him about it later.

Suddenly Ahsoka was on the floor, after being hit by two blaster shots from two different directions. “1 minute 52”, the Captain announced as two of the troopers gently moved the Padawan back to the wall, leaning her against it in the same position that Lexie had first seen her in upon entering the hangar.

“Isn’t this a bit extreme?”, Lexie asked Anakin, gesturing to the, once again, unconscious Padawan.

“It’s good practice for her. If she can take on Rex’s men, she’ll be ready for anything on a battlefield”, was his reply.

“They’re that good, huh?”, she raised her eyebrows with amusement, glancing at Rex who had just re-joined them where they were stood.

“Care to find out?”, Anakin asked with a sly grin.

“Yeah no. Getting shot at by clone troopers isn’t really on my to-do list for today”, she answered rolling her eyes. The Captain slightly smiled at that.

“Could be good practice for you too you know. You’ve been out of the game for quite a while. What, you worried you wouldn’t even last 10 minutes?” he pushed.

“Pff! I could easily last 10 minutes, don’t be ridiculous”, Lexie replied, starting to get irritated. Anakin had a way of getting under her skin sometimes, bringing out her competitive nature in a second. But his words also struck a sensitive cord. He was right, she had been out of the game for quite a long while. What if she couldn’t use her lightsabers as well as she could before being in a coma? Her connection to the Force had felt weaker since she had woken up, what if she couldn’t use it properly anymore? Her hand instinctively lifted to her chest, fingers tracing small circles on her sternum. She truly was worried.

“What about a friendly wager then? If you can last more than 10 minutes, I will buy all your drinks next time we go out. But if you’re stunned before the 10-minute mark, you deal with the next five troops inspections”, Anakin said.

“The next five? Why five?”, Lexie asked confused.

“Well I thought we’d share the general duties now that you’re here, and so we would’ve alternated on inspections. But if you lose the bet you just take the next five off of my hands”, he explained, sly grin still present on his face.

“Alright, fine”. She agreed after a pause, taking off her cloak. She could never resist it when Anakin bet that she couldn’t do something, the need to prove herself always getting the better of her.

“Get the men ready, Rex”, Anakin said as the two of them watched Lexie make her way to the centre of the hangar. “And Captain”, he continued, lowering his voice so she wouldn’t hear, “make sure I don’t have to pay for those drinks, will you?”

The Captain nodded, used to his general’s antics by now. He put his helmet on and ordered the men back to their places. Lexie watched as the clones encircled her, glancing quickly at the designs on their armor, her eyes stopping at a familiar handprint on one of the troopers. Echo. She couldn’t be sure if he met her eyes through the black visor of his helmet, but she threw a small smile towards him anyway.

Echo gave her a nod in recognition, and so did the trooper next to him, who Lexie concluded must be Fives. The design on his helmet caught her eye, it was more ornate than Echo’s simple stripes, with a few dots or red among a blue shape. Is that like a serpent or something? Looking at the two of them compared to the rest of the troopers she could actually tell that they were new additions to the battalion, only their helmets and upper part of their armour being customised with the 501st blue.

Lexie was surprised to see that Captain Rex had taken a place in the training circle, drawing his dual blaster pistols. “Ready, General?”, his helmet-modulated voice asked.

Lexie unhooked her two lightsabers from her belt and ignited the yellow blades, taking a defensive stance. “Ready”, she said, trying to appear confident. She pushed away the worry and closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to feel through the Force the intention of the trooper who would fire first.

She swiftly turned her body as a trigger was pulled behind her and deflected the shot with ease. The next two shots came from the Captain and she deflected those too, moving rhythmically with all the shots that followed. Wielding her sabers, she felt like she was dancing a comforting dance, the steps all too familiar, the hum of the blades her favourite melody. Minutes were passing and her confidence was growing, feeling herself fall back in sync with the Force. She was doing well, she was back to being herself, she didn’t need to worry about failing right?

She sensed Rex about to pull the trigger again, and turned to face him, seeing the pistol he was holding in his raised right hand. Only the shot never came, he had put the safety on before he pulled the trigger. The one in his left hand, lowered by his hip, was still armed however, and Rex quickly fired it. Lexie’s eyes went wide with shock as she tried to move her lightsaber, but did not have time to deflect the blast. Everything went black and her body dropped on the floor.

Lexie’s hand lifted to her head as she slowly regained consciousness. What just happened? She was on the floor, her back rested against the cold, durasteel wall. Her eyes darted around the hangar, an LAAT had taken the spot where she had stood deflecting blaster shots just a moment ago. A moment for her, anyway.

Embarrassment filled her mind as she remembered being shot. How did she not sense Rex’s intention to deceive her? Her connection to the Force was clearly not strong enough anymore. He wasn’t force-sensitive, she should’ve known what he was going to do, she should’ve know it was a ruse. Hell, she should’ve noticed him putting the safety on his gun. Did she at least win that stupid bet?

“How are you feeling, General?” she heard a voice from her right.

“Like I got shot with a kriffin’ stun gun”, Lexie replied drily and heard a small chuckle. She looked up towards the voice, where Captain Rex was stood, holding his helmet between his left hand and his hip. His right hand was extended towards Lexie, which she accepted, his strong grip pulling her up from the ground as if she weighed nothing.

“You made good time Sir, 9 minutes and 48 seconds”, Rex announced.

Lexie frowned. She lost, she hated losing. “You tricked me. I can’t believe you tricked me”. A frown appeared on Rex’s face at her words and she cringed at the realisation of how it must’ve sounded. “No I-I didn’t mean it like that”. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re not force-sensitive, I should’ve sensed it, I… just… don’t mind me”. She looked around the hangar again. “Where is Anakin? How long was I out?”.

“A little over an hour. General Skywalker finished with Commander Tano’s training about 20 minutes ago and left to brief the Council on our latest campaign. He instructed me to give you a tour of the base once you wake up, if you wanted it, maybe introduce you to some of the men”. Rex stated matter-of-factly.

Without anything to distract her anymore, that nagging feeling returned to the back of Lexie’s mind. She looked Rex in the eye, urging her mind to figure out what it was that she was feeling. His facial expression was stern and professional, but his eyes were so warm and kind; staring into them she felt… safe?

She tried to gauge what he was feeling but his mental walls were exemplary. She would have to push her way into his mind if she were to read him properly, but she didn’t like doing that, it was too invasive and disrespectful. She decided she just had to ignore that strange feeling. “Thank you, I would appreciate a tour. Lead the way, Captain”.

Rex started by taking her from the smaller repairs hangar they were in to the main hangar, providing her with basic info on the various ships and vehicles the battalion had at its disposal. He then took her to the command level, walking her by offices, pointing out the one that was his and an empty one close to it that Lexie could use. At the end of the hallway he showed her to the main briefing room, a large holo-table at its centre. The room was crowded with multiple clones in grey officer’s uniforms milling around. Lexie quickly left the room before she was noticed, motioning for Rex to follow her back into the hallway.

“They all looked busy, I didn’t want them to have to stop what they were doing just to salute and all that”. She explained upon seeing his confusion.

Rex gave her a half-smile. He had noticed her uneasiness every time they passed a trooper that stopped at attention to salute her. “You’ll get used to it, Sir”, he tried to reassure her. Lexie gave a small smile in return. This wasn’t good, he could see right through her. She needed to get her anxiety under control, you’re a Jedi, for kriff’s sake, act like one.

They continued on their tour, Rex taking her to one of the upper levels of the large building. He explained that General Skywalker had asked to have a private room on the base, finding it useful to not always have to head back to the Temple after returning from long, tiring missions, or for the occasions the battalion had to depart from Coruscant in the early hours of the morning. It was only fair, therefore, to offer her the same courtesy.

The room he showed her was small but not too small. On the right side, just as you entered, there was a simple metal desk and chair, while on the left side there was a bed, barely big enough to be considered a double. The head of the bed was sat against the wall of the refresher, which was also small, but it did have a private shower. Lexie looked to the two rows of drawers under the bed, she should bring a couple changes of clothes over later that day.

“These private rooms are all standard-built. It’s pretty much identical to the one you will have aboard the Resolute”, Rex informed her.

“I think it’ll do quite nicely. I do hate having to sneak back into the Temple whilst drunk, so this place should be very useful”, she tried to joke.

“Do you often have to drunkenly sneak back into the Jedi Temple, Sir?”, Rex asked with an amused expression.

Shit. That backfired. “No! no, not often. Well… sometimes. but it’s not like a regular thing”. He’s gonna think I’m a kriffing alcoholic, why did I have to say that? “One needs to blow off some steam from time to time. You know what that’s like surely.”

“I’m not a big drinker, Sir.” He replied, amusement still visible in his eyes.

Of course he’s not. Lexie lifted her fist to her mouth, clearing her throat. “Do you have a private room too, Captain, or do you have to sleep in the communal dormitory?”, she asked, wanting to move on from the subject.

“I do have one Sir, but it’s not on this level. It’s on the same level as the rest of the clones’ dormitories and the mess hall. I can take you there next.”

“To your private room?”, Lexie asked arching her eyebrows.

“T-The mess, Sir. I-I wasn’t suggesting…”, it was his turn now to get flustered.

“Relax, Captain, I was teasing”, she lifted her palms up in reassurance. “You said you’ll introduce me to some of the men. I assume the mess hall is where we’ll find most of them at this hour?��

Rex nodded and started walking towards the lifts, Lexie following close behind.

“I’ve actually met three of your men last night, or well, technically only two, didn’t actually speak to Jesse”, she said breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence they were walking in.

“Really Sir?”, the Captain asked, a bit taken aback.

“Yeah, I somehow ended up at the 79s and had a very nice conversation with Echo. And an interesting interaction with Fives”.

Rex let out a sigh. “Do I have to reprimand Fives for inappropriate behaviour?”

 Lexie laughed. Troublemaker, I knew it. “No, Captain, it’s alright”.

            As they reached the mess hall, Lexie could hear muffled voices and laughter from behind the durasteel door. She was starting to get anxious again, feeling bad for disturbing the men during their lunchtime. The door slid open and Lexie followed Rex in, taking in the large room and the multiple long tables inside it. The mess was fairly crowded with clones spread out in little groups, enjoying a meal and a chat amongst themselves.

The Captain stopped at a table close to the entrance, introducing Lexie to a couple of pilots, Hawk and Fireball, and a sergeant named Appo, who all shot up from their seats, standing at attention. She made small talk after insisting they sat back down and continued their meals, going over the basic pleasantries.

Rex then guided her towards a table more to the back of the room where she could see Echo and Fives sat next to Jesse and opposite two other clones. As he saw her approach, Echo hit Fives with the back of his hand and hurriedly got up from his seat, the other clones following suit after a quick glance towards Lexie and their captain.

 “At ease, men”, Rex said, trying to spare Lexie from any uneasiness.

 “Good to see you again, General”, Fives was the first one to speak, followed immediately by a “yes it’s good to see you again, General” from Echo. Living up to his name, Lexie chuckled to herself.

 Rex introduced Jesse, remembering that she stated they had not actually been introduced the previous night.

“It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m sorry I had to leave before we could get a chance to talk last night”, she said as she shook the lieutenant’s hand.

 “No worries General, we can fix that the next time you’re at the 79s”, Jesse said with a smile, causing Rex’s eyes to narrow in disapproval.

The Captain then introduced the other two clones as Hardcase and Kix. Hardcase’s grip on her hand was very firm and the handshake very energetic, making Lexie raise her eyebrows in surprise and prompting Kix to apologise for his brother’s hyperactive nature. She took in his appearance, noting the blue lines tattooed on his head and face. His Force signature felt just as full of energy.

Kix, in contrast, had a more gentle touch when shaking her hand, he was a medic after all. Her eyes darted over the lightning bolt design of the tattoos that covered most of his head. She noticed the Aurebesh on the left side of his scalp and tilted her head in order to read it. A good droid is a dead one.

“Does that apply to protocol droids too?”, she asked playfully.

“It does if they’re Separatist protocol droids”, Kix replied with a chuckle.

“That’s a valid point”, she chuckled as well.

Captain Rex had taken a few steps back during the rest of their conversation, answering a commlink from General Skywalker. He returned to the group just as Lexie was laughing at something Fives had said.

“Sorry to interrupt Sir, General Skywalker is waiting for us in the briefing room”.

“Thank you Captain”. She turned back to the table. “Nice talking to you boys”.

The troopers nodded their goodbyes, except for Fives, who winked at Lexie, making her roll her eyes with a smile. She turned back to the Captain who was starring daggers at Fives.

“You better lead the way again Captain, I have no idea how to get back to the command level”.

Rex did as he was told.

[j-richmond]

Welcome to Tunnel Town! The Magical Land of Yeld is full of unique locations and strange communities. What’s the deal with Tunnel Town, anyway? Tunnel Town is a small settlement hidden inside the infamous Oracle Caves. The town’s few structures are made from mud and reclaimed wood, or carved into the cave’s stone. One is just an oversized tent. Almost every Tunnel Town resident is a young Hydra, with the exception of the Fairy Innkeeper. Tunnel Lord is the unanimously elected Mayor of Tunnel Town and a teenage Hydra. Tunnel Lord plays a parental role for her many younger sisters who inhabit Tunnel Town, and has grown up much faster than the others because of it. Tunnel Lord really wants her town to grow and prosper under her rule. She is a daughter of the Vampire Prince, after all! Ruling is in her blood! Maybe, if she does a good job with Tunnel Town, she can get a shot at running the whole Kingdom some day. Running a town is pretty hard, but luckily Tunnel Lord learned a lot while visiting other towns across Yeld. Whether or not she uses that information wisely, however, is anyone’s guess. Welcome to TUNNELFEST! A Yeld Holiday!

TUNNELFEST! is a three day Winter Season Holiday taking place in Tunnel Town. Explore the newly redecorated Oracle Caves. Eat tasty Tunnel Town treats. Participate in the Poetry Slam and Mud Sculpting competition. Check out the free Martial Arts demonstration. Get your fortune read by a Serpent Oracle. Mosh in the Mud Pits to a live band! Each day of TUNNELFEST! has unique events that the Friends can participate in. Better get there on the first day if you wanna do it all!

Tunnel Mummy Costume Contest! The citizens of Tunnel Town have to deal with Tunnel Mummies all the time, so they know what a quality Mummy looks like. Dress up in your finest moldy cloth wrappings, let out your scariest Mummy moan, and show off your most convincing undead shamble.

Mud Sculpture Competition! An art competition judged by the Fairy Innkeeper Broth and his 2 young Hydra protege, Chowder and Bisque. Broth is a phenomenal mud sculpture artist, and has helped Chowder and Bisque develop their own unique styles. Contestants won’t have long to sculpt, and dirty tactics come with the territory. May the best sculpture left standing win! First place receives the recipe for Broth’s famous Cave Mushroom Tortellini.

Hissy Elliot’s Midnight Poetry Slam! A Poetry Slam orchestrated by Tunnel Town’s very own Hissy Elliot. As a young Hydra, Hissy only recently learned how to read and write, so most of her work is spoken word only. Her sisters swear she’s really good, though! Usually the Hydra aren’t allowed to stay up past midnight, but TUNNELFEST! is a special occasion. The Poetry Slam has no first place prize or trophy. Only the mad respect and lyrical envy of your peers.

Fortune Telling Booth! Get a psychic reading from a self proclaimed “Serpent Oracle”. This young Hydra claims she can see into the past, present, and future. She’s only mildly convincing, but really adorable. Best not to hurt her feelings.

Oracle Caves Painting Party! All attendees are invited to grab some paint, find a wall or ceiling, and paint their favorite moments from TUNNELFEST! all over the Oracle Caves. With everyone’s help, Tunnel Town and the Oracle Caves can become a warm and inviting place.

A Muddy Mosh Pit Dance Party! Special musical guest Goblin Hit Squad closes out TUNNELFEST! with an excellent performance and three encores. Friends can sit and enjoy the music or join in on the mosh pit.

Find out more about The Magical Land of Yeld here!

[lboogie1906]

Staceyann Chin (born December 25, 1972) is a spoken-word poet, performing artist, and LGBT rights political activist. Her work has been published in The New York Times, The Washington Post, and the Pittsburgh Daily, and has been featured on 60 Minutes. She was also featured on The Oprah Winfrey Show, where she shared her struggles growing up as a gay person in Jamaica. Her first full-length poetry collection was published in 2019.

She was born in Jamaica. She is of Chinese-Jamaican and Afro-Jamaican descent. She announced in 2011 that she was pregnant with her first child, giving birth to her daughter in 2012. She has been candid about her pregnancy using in-vitro fertilization and wrote about her experiences as a pregnant, single lesbian in a guest blog for the Huffington Post.

Openly lesbian, she has been an “out poet and political activist” since 1998. In addition to performing in and co-writing the Tony-nominated Russell Simmons Def Poetry Jam on Broadway, she appeared in Off-Broadwayone-woman shows and at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. She held poetry workshops worldwide. She credits her accomplishments to her hard-working grandmother and the pain of her mother’s absence.

Her poetry can be found in her first chapbook, Wildcat Woman, the one she now carries on her back, Stories Surrounding My Coming, and numerous anthologies, including Skyscrapers, Taxis and Tampons, Poetry Slam, Role Call, Cultural Studies: Critical Methodologies. Her voice can be heard on CD compilations out of Bar 13- Union Square and Pow Wow productions. She published her autobiographical novel, The Other Side of Paradise: A Memoir.

She has been a host on Logo’s After Ellen Internet show, “She Said What?” and a co-host of Centric’s My Two Cents. She performed in The People Speak, a documentary feature film that uses dramatic and musical performances of the letters, diaries, and speeches of everyday Americans, based on historian Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States.

She taught a seminar at the arts-oriented Saint Ann’s School in Brooklyn.

In 2024 she was the subject of Laurie Townshend’s documentary film A Mother Apart. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[qnewsau]

Chappell Roan debuts lesbian country song on SNL

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/chappell-roan-debuts-lesbian-country-song-on-snl/

Chappell Roan debuts lesbian country song on SNL

Chappell Roan has confirmed a new era is starting for her, performing a brand new sapphic country-pop song on Saturday Night Live.

The pop superstar, 26, was the musical guest on the show over the weekend, as comedian John Mulaney hosted.

Chappell performed Pink Pony Club first, but for her second performance of the night, she debuted a new track.

Titled The Giver, the country-pop serenade is about her favourite topic: girls loving girls.

“All you country boys saying you know how to threat a woman right,” Chappell said during a spoken word aside in the song.

“Well, only a woman knows how to treat a woman right. She gets the job done.”

The title of the song was only confirmed when the SNL performance was uploaded – and then removed – from the show’s YouTube account.

Watch below:

Chappell Roan’s full hq performance of ‘The Giver’, her new cuntry single, live on SNL! pic.twitter.com/NdKLmqXRpw

— best of chappell roan (@bestofchappell) November 3, 2024

Watch Chappell’s performance of Pink Pony Club below:

Chappell Roan is releasing her second album

Chappell Roan toured Australia late last year following the release of her debut album The Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess, which was a slow burn success.

She performed smaller venues in Australia, but in less than 12 months the American artist has become one of the biggest pop stars in the world, breaking crowd size records at festivals.

Chappell has been teasing the release of new music recently.

Last week, she posted a photo of herself with the vinyl of her debut album and wrote, “Album kinda popped off imo but it is time to welcome a hot new bombshell into the villa.”

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by ･ﾟ: *✧ Chappell Roan ✧*:･ﾟ (@chappellroan)

Read more:

Chappell Roan reflects on meteoric rise to pop stardom

‘I’m coming’: Chappell Roan teases next Australian tour

‘True talent’: Elton John is a huge Chappell Roan fan

Chappell Roan calls out ‘creepy’ fan behaviour

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[straystars-and-planets]

music when the moon rises

music major!Bang Chan x music major!reader (part 1)

CC (Campus Couple): [acronym] a couple who attends the same university.

Synopsis: Chan is well known, both on campus and within the music school: genius producer, member campus rap group 3RACHA, a fantastic vocalist, and somehow friends with someone from every department/major (and handsome with the cutest dimpled smile, not that you were looking). What happens when you happen to run into him after a late night practice session?

a/n: hi this is my first work I'm posting for skz (and k-pop in general) Just trying to give everyone a taste of my writing style, I have more installments for all the members in this campus couple series coming up + a few more wips for later!

wc: 1.68k (oops) of bang chan hcs (because I can)

tags: non-idol!au, college/university au, domestic fluff, fluff, sleep deprivation/staying up super late (sleep is important everyone!!!)

cw: implied fem!reader, mentions of anxiety/stress relating to school/grades, cursing/swear words (both reader and chan use curses liberally + let chan say f*ck)

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist form | part 2 (coming soon!)

💜 reblogs are appreciated + constructive feedback welcome 💜

Virtually everyone on campus has at least heard of Chan. Musical wunderkind, has seemingly performed in every ensemble (orchestra, choir, band, jazz, chamber music, you name it, he’s probably played in it).

Also part of the iconic rap trio 3RACHA, any time there is a concert on campus they’re either one of the main acts or opening for a guest artist.

Chan has also individually released a few mixtapes SoundCloud, is very excited because he now has an EP on Spotify too! Some of his songs have made their way onto party playlists. Needless to say, this man is everywhere and seems to know everyone and anyone on campus.

You’ve bumped into Chan a few times, either in classes or in the hallways between rehearsals. He sometimes flashes you a friendly smile whenever he sees you in passing, but other than a few “hi’s” and “hello’s” the two of you haven’t spoken much. 

It’s a few weeks into fall semester and you are already irritated with the lack of practice space. Your dorm has zero (if not negative) sound insulation so you can’t really use it to practice your instrument.

Unfortunately there are only a few practice rooms available on campus, and no matter what time of day they all seemed to be occupied, either by another musician or adventurous couples who use them for “duet rehearsal” (a/n: iykyk - yes I have unfortunately witnessed the latter)

You get a brilliant idea at midnight after a late night study session in the music library. You’re already in the music building, and you have card access to the department. Surely no one is using the practice rooms at this time.

Your sleep deprived speculations prove to be true and you almost cry as the first room in the hall is unoccupied. You notice one of the production studios across the hall has its door closed but chalk it up to someone forgetting to leave it open on the way out.

Once you’re settled you begin warming up, letting the tones of scales and arpeggios sing through the space. It’s the first time you’ve been able to have quiet and uninterrupted practice (thankfully your roommate had been understanding about you needing to practice in the dorm, but you still tended to play quietly/half-heartedly to avoid any noise complaints).

After a rough run through of the piece you’re currently working on, you start picking through the score measure by measure. Totally immersed in the music in front of you, you don’t notice the door to the production studio creak open, nor do you notice the head of disheveled curls that appears in the window of the practice room. 

A sudden knock on the door startles you out of your zone, and you can’t help but let out a shriek and throw your score at the window. When the folder falls to the ground you’re met by the sight of a surprised Chan, mouth open and ears turning a little red.

To this day Chan swears he wasn’t intending to scare the living daylights out of you, it’s just the way you played was so beautiful and enchanting and he just had to know who was playing it (and then beg them to record some samples for a future/secret project pretty please and thank you 🥺)

After your first THRILLING encounter you keep bumping into Chan everywhere. At music department events/socials, and around campus (particularly the cafe/coffee shop).

You also run into him more in classes (or at least start noticing him more). He’s a guest performer for the experimental piece the orchestra is performing, or subbing for the pianist who was sick during orchestra rehearsal. During breaks you banter with him (he asks whether you’re planning on being in the building late, you tease him for his insomniac habits)

Slowly, over the course of fall semester he develops a soft spot for you. Definitely very fond of you, and at first is in total denial, thinks he is just doing this because he’s trying to be a good upperclassman/mentor for you.

(Meanwhile all his friends, especially Jisung and Changbin, are losing their everloving minds trying to convince Chan that he’s falling for the ‘cute late night girl’)

Probably has an epiphany that he’s basically in love with you while sitting in the audience for one of your concerts (one of the fewe that he’s not performing in). Like yeah, he definitely goes to his friends’ performances/showcases to support, but not all of them. (Damnit, Jisung was right to tease Chan about planning to go to all of your performances that he has time for.)

Then you come on stage for your concerto and he is absolutely entranced. Blushes when you seem to make eye contact with him after bows. Probably red cheeks & ears he is SO glad he wore his beanie today. Plus he thinks you look stunning in the dress you chose, the navy blue fabric makes you look so beautiful and elegant. He loves that it has a bit of your personality with the asymmetrical design and subtle lace appliques.

Now that he is FINALLY aware of his (massive) crush on you he’s going to try to be subtle and show you more affection/flirt more. Tries to subtly woo you by bringing you late night snacks, or inviting you to hang out before practice/rehearsals.

Chan is pretty much a blushing mess anytime he spends one-on-one time with you. Occasionally attempts to use cheesy pick up lines but plays them off as jokes because he is a SHY and nervous boy doing his best to flirt. Probably ends up laughing at most (if not all) of the lines he tries on you.

Thankfully you also find this funny (and cute) so you indulge him. Though occasionally when there’s a particularly sweet/cheesy pick up line you can feel your cheeks tingle and you get uncharacteristically giggly while your heart flutters in your chest.

Sometimes hangouts are just you and him, other times they’re with his friends. You slowly get to know other people. Meanwhile his friends are trying to send Chan to an early grave by not subtly hinting at his crush (aka. one time Felix tries to straight up tell you "Channie-hyung is in love with you," but thankfully Chan was able to smack a hand over Felix’s mouth in time).

Multiple death glares towards his so-called friends now menaces behind your back + creative sign language indicating he may strangle them later

After you start dating, Chan admits that he has tackled Jisung, Changbin and Minho as a last resort to get them to shut the fuck up before they can blurt out “By the way Chan wants to date you” or something else that would cause him to have a quote: " heart attack before the age of 30." His words not Y/N's Chan this is why Seungmin calls you old

At this point you’ve picked up on Chan’s attempts to flirt with you, so you start trying to flirt back. Searching up pick up lines to try on him, reminding him to get sleep/rest, bringing food to his studio if you happen to be free. Of course, Chan is a little a lot dense so he keeps thinking you’re just doing this as a good friend. 

By the end of the semester everyone thinks you and Chan are dating since you two have continued to banter/flirt in public at all hours of the day and night. Jisung and Felix stage an “intervention” by inviting you to coffee where they beg you to please ask Chan out because he won’t shut up about his pining for you at home (pretty please he likes you so much 💖)

You end up heeding their advice (read: Felix and Jisung continued to pester you about it in person and via. text) right before winter break. Chan was hanging out with you backstage before your final recital/evaluation when you just casually asked, “Hey, do you want to get dinner with me tonight?”

This poor man is so shocked, he almost spews water all over your beautiful recital outfit. Thankfully he has the reflexes to turn away before he ruins your dress. Honestly you have to pound his back a few times just to make sure all the water is out of his windpipe.

He’ll agree to the dinner. Leaves the dressing room so you can properly warm up + get to your place in time. Probably about 15 minutes before the show starts he realizes, oh shit, did she mean like a date????? SPRINTS to the nearest grocery store so he can buy flowers, makes it just in time to slide into the seat as the concertmaster plays the tuning note. 

Definitely looks very disheveled waiting for you in the lobby. His curls are all over the place and he didn’t wear his beanie tonight to fit with the formal vibe of the concert (CURLY CHAN SUPREMACY). Pretty much shoves the bouquet in your face before realizing he didn’t actually confirm that this was a date. 

“This is a date right?” he asks, looking a little sheepish. Without the beanie you can see the way his ears turn red and his dimples start showing when he gives you an embarrassed smile. Of course you nod in agreement and giggle when Chan wraps you in the warmest hug ever and jumps around while also congratulating you on a great performance. Chan gives the best hugs you can fight the wall

Your first date ends up being at this hole-in-the-wall chicken place that Chan found back in his first year. Imagine the two of you eating fried chicken at 11 PM dressed in super formal clothing because you decided to go there straight from the performance venue.

Spend the rest of the time before winter break starts pretty much attached to the hip with each other. As music/performance majors most of your final assignments are due before or very early during finals week, so you’re able to relax and take the time to spend quality time with each other. 

Wine night where you both improv on different instruments/vocals and create a joke song about how much you hate spicy food, specifically how Buldak ramen is a crime against tastebuds

Definitely miss him over the winter holidays, you are glued to your phone whenever you have the time, texting/calling him, sending him pictures and selfies. He’s not much better, sending you pictures of Christmas in Australia with his family (INCLUDING BERRY!)

©@straystars-and-planets 2023. do not copy, translate or repost my work.

[zephrunsimperium]

Wrote some stuff for my Human Bill AU. TW for religious trauma and brief mentions of suicide and drug use.

Pine trees passed in a blur outside of Bill’s window, the speed of the car on the winding Oregon road turning the forest into a jumbled mess of green and brown not unlike a painting smudged by a careless artist. God was pretty careless when He made me, Bill thought, knee bouncing fitfully. I probably wasn’t even meant to exist. He nodded to himself. Perhaps a few years ago that thought would have seemed frighteningly blasphemous, but he’d since accepted the fact that he was going to go to hell - one blasphemous thought wouldn’t make a difference. And it made more sense than what he had been taught as a child, didn’t it? That he was just a factory mistake, part of a bad batch. God didn’t make mistakes though… Maybe an angel had done it then.

An angel…

Bill turned his attention away from the window, peering up to his left at the man in the driver’s seat. Stanford was bobbing his head along to a quiet Marvin Gaye song on the radio, occasionally tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. He mouthed the words, but didn’t sing; neither man had spoken since Bill had been discharged from the hospital. A look at the clock on the dash told Bill they’d only been driving for some fifteen minutes, but the heavy silence that had filled that time had made it feel so much longer. At least Ford didn’t look mad at him. That was almost more nerve wracking though; it was inevitable that Ford would get angry at him eventually. Bill would screw up somehow - he always did - and Ford would throw him out and leave him to his drugs again. Only this time he wouldn’t end up in the hospital. He’d make sure of that.

Ford would surely be disappointed in him for his inability to be a good person, but that wasn’t new. He had to know that their reunion wouldn’t end up any different than last time, right?

Well regardless if Ford knew it, Bill knew it. And yet he was still sitting here, allowing Ford to chauffeur him to his house in the woods to eat up his time and income for as long as it took for him to realize that Bill was unredeemable. How fucking selfish.

Ford made a turn and a picturesque cabin came into view - the house he’d been telling Bill about. Look at how well he’s doing for himself, Bill thought, his stomach turning. His sweaty fingers tightened around the cane across his lap. Look how well he’s doing without you. You’re going to screw that up, you’re going to ruin everything and you don’t even give a shit.

The car came to a stop on a gravel driveway and Ford broke the heavy blanket of silence. “This is home!” he said, glancing over at Bill with a smile he didn’t deserve. He tried to offer one back anyway. “I’ll show you around and then you can wash up for dinner?”

Bill nodded. “That sounds lovely.”

Ford got out to grab Bill’s solitary suitcase of belongings from the trunk - a few old pairs of clothes, some math textbooks, and a collection of paraphernalia like marbles and bottle caps and pens that he couldn’t bear to part with for reasons he couldn’t explain - and Bill struggled out of the passenger seat, joints protesting at being forced to move. Joints were supposed to move, he thought sourly, filing the crunching of his bones away as mounting evidence that he was God’s mistake. Maybe that meant he wouldn’t go to hell though. Maybe instead of burning for all eternity he’d just shrivel up in the flames and cease to exist. Or maybe that was too much to hope for.

Bill hobbled inside the house while Ford held the door for him, eyeing his new surroundings. It looked tidier than their dorm had been in college; Ford had probably cleaned up to prepare for Bill’s arrival.

“Your room is down the hall this way,” Ford explained as he led the way. “I honestly never thought I’d use the guest room - I’d been using it for storage before we arranged for you to be here. It’s rather bare for now, but I expect you’ll be here for a few months so we can fix that up as time goes by.” He opened a door and flicked the lights on. “See, it’s not much but, ah- We could go shopping tomorrow perhaps.”

Bill’s stomach churned even more. Not much? This room was nearly the size of his apartment (Not his apartment anymore, he reminded himself. He’d lost his job, he’d lost his home, he’d lost what little reputation he had. All he had now was what Ford gave him and eventually that kindness would run dry.) though maybe that was a poor rubric by which to judge. His apartment had been crowded nearly from floor to ceiling with things he couldn’t bear to throw out, receipts, notes, magazines he didn’t remember when he’d subscribed to, old milk cartons, rocks and leaves that had been pretty when he’d picked them off the ground but had since dried out and turned brittle and brown-

“I’ll leave your luggage here?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” Bill kept his eyes away from Ford’s, inspecting his new space, the window and the curtains, the hardwood floor, the closet, the dresser, the cozy looking bed and its pillows and blanket. “Thank you.”

“Hehe. You’re very welcome. Ah- The kitchen is the opposite way from where we came in and you’re right next to the bathroom. You can use the shower there. Oh and you can change into some of my clothes if you’d like. I thought about getting you some new ones, but I didn’t want to guess your size and you ought to be able to pick out what you like anyway.”

No, I ought to be thrown out now. But Ford wouldn’t do that yet. He would wait until Bill had sapped everything he had like a leech. “Thank you,” he said again. It wasn’t enough, but what else was there to say?

“Yes. I- I guess I’ll leave you to it then? Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with. I, um. I’m glad you’re here, Bill.”

Bill sighed. For the first time that day, he turned around and met Ford’s soft, starry eyed gaze. “I’m glad to be here too.”

***

Bill rested both hands on the sides of the bathroom sink, staring intently at the creature in the mirror. It was a pitiful thing, the kind of sorry vermin you’d swerve to avoid and then wonder if you should turn around just to put it out of its misery. How in the world could God, a being of perfect holiness and light, create this monster with its sunken eyes and deathly pale skin dotted with triangle shaped burns and cuts and bruises? It looked like its pallid skin had been stretched too tightly over its skeleton, like the bones might rip through the thin covering at any moment.

God didn’t make you this way, he mused, staring with relentless disapproval into his good eye. (“good” eye seemed a stretch of a description; any sane person wouldn’t want to look at either, red rimmed and wild as they were) You did that all on your own, Cipher.

Well good. If he got himself into this then maybe he could get himself out again. He’d taken his sweet time in the shower, scrubbing every inch of himself until he was practically raw. Just because he would eventually do something to make Ford throw him out didn’t mean he wanted to hasten that inevitability. Until that time, he would be presentable, he would shower daily, he would shave, he would brush and floss, he would do his hair, he would wear cologne. He would sit up straight, he would be polite, he would eat whatever food he was given, he would tidy the house, and he would most certainly stay clean. No drugs, no cigarettes, he would even limit his caffeine intake.

It would be hard, but he’d try like hell. He ran his bony fingers through his wet hair - thinning already at his ripe age of twenty five - trying to stand up straighter. He’d try like hell for Ford…

[jingrenhengzine]

🦁 Contributor Spotlight | Guest Merch Artist 🍁

Fate has brought rie to join our team as a guest merch artist! They believe JingRenHeng deserve to be happy together, and truer words have never been spoken…

⚔️ You can also find rie on twitter!

[lgcxmimi]

CHARMS RADIO PLOT CALL

hi hi!

emi still would adore a lovely guest on the radio show, and she loves making new friends! its her last season to host, so she wants to make it a memorable one. <3

here is the link for the official post, but the tl;dr is--

any japanese artist and/or trainee or a debuted artist with over 60 points in japanese!

50 spoken words, 4 posts each

if you're interested, just like this post, and i'll reach out! thank you in advance.

[lgcmanager]

LGC CHARMS JAPAN: THE RADIO

SCHEDULE TYPE: VARIABLE GIG SCHEDULE RESTRICTIONS: read below

over the years, LEGACY ENTERTAINMENT’s groups have released several japanese singles and albums. in more recent years, with LGC CHARMS JAPAN, they have shown a desire to further their presence in japanese media. thus the launch of a permanent radio show on Nippon Cultural Broadcasting that airs weekly for 45 minutes at 2200JST on Sunday evenings. each week, the radio show features various legacy artists cross-talk, reading fan mail, and several other segments.

 the current PERMANENT HOSTS are HIRAWA EMI, KANG SARANG, PARK TAEHA and TAKANASHI ASAMI. please note that this trimester will be the LAST for our current hosts. the show's new format will be announced next trimester !

each trimester, a total FOUR GUESTS will also be invited as per the following schedule:

WEEK 1: Asami, Emi, Sarang and Taeha

WEEK 2: Emi and Taeha

WEEK 3: Asami and Guest 1

WEEK 4: Emi and Sarang

WEEK 5: Taeha and Guest 2

WEEK 6: Sarang and Asami

WEEK 7: Sarang and Guest 3

WEEK 8: Taeha and Asami

WEEK 9: Emi and Guest 4

WEEK 10: Asami, Emi, Sarang and Taeha

GUESTS AND THEME

each trimester, a different theme will be picked and some guest restrictions may be placed.

for the current trimester, the THEME is NEW; with the new year right behind us, new resolutions and goals and lunar new year coming, it's time to talk about something new ! episodes may center around anything new; for instance the muse's new year's resolutions, how they celebrate lunar new year, a new hobby, a new purchase, a new interest, ect.

EACH HOST will be in charge of picking their GUEST through an ON DASH PLOT CALL, with priority given to any JAPANESE ARTIST OR TRAINEE (must have at least 60 japanese points) or any DEBUTED ARTIST with over 60 JAPANESE POINTS.

GUEST cannot participate on the show two trimesters in a row.

REMINDER: this is a PROFESSIONAL setting. as such, even if conversations touch personal matters, both the HOST and GUEST need to keep a good etiquette. the show isn’t to talk about friendship, family ties or past between the hosts and guests, but for listeners to be entertained. furthermore, if a host cannot maintain a completely professional conversation comfortably and without awkwardness or tension with someone, they shouldn’t pick that person as a guest.

REQUIREMENTS

since radio shows are more of a DISCUSSION, we want the requirements to reflect this. therefore the requirements are lowered to a minimum of 50 SPOKEN WORDS per post. on the other hand, you’ll need to write a thread of EIGHT POSTS (four posts each) minimum to collect +4 MCING/HOSTING and/or VARIETY, +4 FREE SKILLS, and +5 NOTORIETY

for the hosts, guest threads are MANDATORY. you may also do a BONUS thread with any other hosts, with the same requirements and reward.

make sure to use the hashtag lgc:charmsjapanradio on your threads and solos ! to validate your skill points and collect your notoriety points, please submit the following form ONCE on the points blog before APRIL 5, 2025 11:59 EDT.

MUSE NAME ∙ CHARMS JAPAN RADIO - THREAD: +4 MCING/HOSTING and/or VARIETY, +4 SKILL POINTS DISTRIBUTION +5 notoriety [ LINK ] - BONUS: +4 MCING/HOSTING and/or VARIETY, +4 SKILL POINTS DISTRIBUTION +5 notoriety [ LINK ] *only if applicable

[litteratured]

John Giorno Interview: Inside William S. Burroughs' Bunker

Step inside ‘The Bunker’ in New York, the windowless former apartment of the legendary writer William S. Burroughs, and let yourself be guided around – from Burroughs’ typewriter to his shooting target – by its the current resident, the iconic poet John Giorno (b.1936 - d.2019). William S. Burroughs lived several places throughout his life. Between 1975-82 the drug addict and writer –famous not least for his automatic writing in books like ‘Naked Lunch’– lived in 222 Bowery, one of New York’s first YMCAs in the 1880s. Performance poet John Giorno has lived at the address since the early 1960s and was delighted to host his friend and colleague, who lived in the basement for seven years and dubbed the windowless space ‘The Bunker’. “ He was a brilliant transcendent writer, but he was more brilliant here,” Giorno recalls and explains how Burroughs was high from nine in the morning, and then would have vodkas and joints at five o’clock in the afternoon. Giorno himself would join him, albeit a bit later in the day: “Doing that for those endless years and years, that was a lesson – not sure what the lesson is though.” Having downed several more bottles of vodka and smoked more joints, Burroughs and his guests would shoot at the target poster, which still has its original bullet holes. John Giorno has been using ‘The Bunker’ as a guest room for visiting friends and today everything has been restored and kept like it was when Burroughs lived there: the target poster, the typewriter, the gun magazines and the desk all set for someone to sit down and write. We also get to see the ‘Orgone box’ – a box invented by psychoanalyst William Reich, who believed that orgones are vibratory atmospheric atoms of the life-principle, which can be concentrated as a creative substratum. “And if you sat in there you would collect orgone energy of the universal power,” Giorno adds. Burroughs “always believed there could be chaos and catastrophe, so every house should have a vessel to be able to save enough water to live for four days. So that’s why that was there,” says Giorno about the big water tank on the floor. Giorno also shows us Burroughs’ lamp, which is made from a – still functioning – rifle from the Civil War, as well as his BB gun: “It's a generational thing of his, coming of age as a young person in the 1920s and 30s, living in the country in St. Louis, and also outside, and being alone and being frail. I don't think his family were shooters, somehow it entered his life, all of those things.” John Giorno (b.1936 - d.2019) is an American poet and one of the most influential figures in contemporary performance poetry with his intensely rhythmic and philosophical poetry. He has published a wide range of poetic works such as the collection ‘You Got to Burn to Shine’, spoken words with William S. Burroughs and Laurie Anderson. In 1962, Giorno was the subject of Andy Warhol’s 6-hour movie ‘Sleep’. Giorno has also created Giorno Poetry Systems, which has published more than 40 spoken LP’s with acclaimed artists such as Allen Ginsberg and Patti Smith. William S. Burroughs (b. William Seward Burroughs II in 1914 – d. 1997) was an American writer and artist. He was a primary figure of the Beat Generation and a major influence in popular culture and literature, he wrote eighteen novels and novellas, six collections of short stories and four collections of essays, found success with his confessional first novel ‘Junkie’ (1953) but is best known for his highly controversial third novel ‘Naked Lunch’ (1959).  Along with artist, writer and poet Brion Gysin, Burroughs re-invented the literary cut-up technique in works such as ‘The Nova Trilogy’ (1961-1964). Much of Burroughs’ work is semi-autobiographical, primarily drawn from his experiences as a heroin addict. In 1951, he accidentally killed his wife Joan Vollmer with a pistol during a drunken ‘William Tell’ game and was consequently convicted of manslaughter. Through the years, Burroughs also created and exhibited thousands of paintings and other visual artworks, including his celebrated ‘Gunshot Paintings’. He did not, however, exhibit his artwork until 1987, and for last 10 years of his life, he presented his paintings and drawings at museums and galleries worldwide. He died at his home in Kansas after suffering a heart attack in 1997. John Giorno was interviewed by Christian Lund in New York City in October 2017.  Copyright: Louisiana Channel, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, 2018

[eddiemcmahon]

[cis man and he/him] Welcome to Aurora Bay, EDWARD "EDDIE" MCMAHON! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like FRANK DILLANE. You must be the THIRTY-THREE year old MUSIC PRODUCER. Word is you’re LEVEL-HEADED but can also be a bit PICKY and your favorite song is NEVER AS TIRED AS WHEN I'M WAKING UP by LCD SOUNDSYSTEM. I also heard you’ll be staying in FISHER'S COVE. I’m sure you’ll love it! / @aurorabayaesthetic Trigger Warnings: Shitty parents, some brief drug mention

basic stats

Full Name: Edward Gregory McMahon

Nickname(s): Eddie, Ed, Eds

Gender: Cis man (he/him)

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Birthday: May 19, 1991

Hometown: Jersey City, NJ

Current Residence: Fisher's Cove

Time in AB: About 5 years interspersed with extended stays in LA

Occupation: Producer and record label co-founder (Bath House) / musician (bassist for alternative/indie pop band Kafkaesque which has been on a permanent hiatus since 2021)

Education: High School Diploma

Religion: None

Pets: 4-year-old Australian Shepherd named Flea

Faceclaim: Frank Dillane

Hair Color: Lightish Brown

Eye Color: Dark brown

Height: 6'2

Tattoos: TBA (lots)

Piercings: Both lobes, always wearing a hoop in the right ear

Favorite Movie:

Favorite Alcoholic Drink: Hazy IPA

Favorite Food: Fajitas

personality/headcanons

Plays a bunch of different instruments, absolute musical prodigy. Loooves learning new stuff, it's one of his favorite things to do. Main instruments are bass guitar and keyboard though

Prefers being in the background and was always really happy to let Matt Russo (his best friend and Kafka's frontman) have the attention. They never got arena-big but anyone who's really into the music scene has usually heard of them and for sure heard Matt's name at least, especially around LA/southern California

Not so much soft spoken as just like, not a huge talker. He's more of a listener. Will get more chatty with his close friends and definitely when he's drunk, but otherwise he's not gonna say too much unless he's being engaged

Is always working on some little side project in addition to production for Bath House and also guest producing on albums for much bigger artists (he's that name where you're like why have I heard this before, and it's because he produced that one Carly Rae Jepsen/Sabrina Carpenter/Lizzie McAlpine song you were obsessed with two years ago)

His main side gig is a project called Love Sucks Sometimes with his friend Elias Kipling. It's extremely weird and experimental and they get maybe 15k streams a month on Spotify if that.

Some LSS vibe songs: X, X, X,

He's very level-headed, he's not really gonna argue with you unless it's something very important to him

Pretty much only does long term relationships, falls in love hard and takes a long time between relos when one ends because he takes it very seriously

Used to do a lot of coke back in the day when the band first started touring but hasn't been into it as much in the last 5 or 6 years, maybe dabbling occasionally. Smokes a ton of weed

brief biography

Eddie grew up in a suburban neighborhood of Jersey City in a nice house and a middle class family, the child of a financial advisor (his mom) and a high school math teacher (his dad). He's the oldest of three kids, with a sister seven years younger than him and a brother in between. Because his parents both worked, they typically put Eddie in charge of his siblings, which, especially by the time he hit high school, impeded his freedom a lot. He's the type of person that resented his parents for it and tried not to misdirect his anger at his brother and sister, but they absolutely felt the consequences of it now and then, particularly in his junior and senior years. There was a lot of unhealthy stuff between him and his parents and whenever he could, Eddie spent a lot of time at his best friend Matt's house (who would end up being the frontman of Kafka). His parents were slightly insane and very conservative, but they recognized Eddie's parenting situation as being kind of dire and were always happy to have him over. His own parents were actually crazy, and would do things like locking him out of the house if he came home after curfew and snooping through his room for drugs. He has a terrible relationship with them these days, rarely goes to visit except for holidays, and has reached a point now where he knows there's never gonna be a relationship there and has accepted it. Kafkaesque started getting attention just after he and Matt and their two other friends in the band graduated high school in 2010/11ish. They released a few EPs and then finally their debut album, Kafkaesque, in November of 2012. Two years later in 2014 they released their sophomore album, Fear In Unexpected Places, and then Mass Hallucination in 2017. They were on hiatus for four years after that, dropped their last album, Hope This Helps, in 2021, and toured it briefly as an opening act for Submergence. They've been on hiatus again since then. There are a few singles that made it onto the radio but otherwise they were always a smaller band with a relatively small but dedicated following. It was in 2022, just under two years ago now, that Eddie and another producer friend of his co-founded their own music label, Bath House. Eddie's experimental project, Love Sucks Sometimes, is signed to the label, as well as a small but growing list of other alternative/experimental artists. He mainly lives in Aurora Bay, enjoying the slower pace than Los Angeles, which he isn't crazy about, and travels when he needs to.

connection ideas

Anyone from the music industry

Also doesn't even have to be from the industry, just people he's worked on side projects/collabs with from artists who have maybe designed album art for him, other musicians, singers who featured on a single, choreographers/set designers/stylists who helped with a music video, literally anything from that world official or not

An ex or two (would have been serious long-term relationships)

Friends in general! Smoking buddies, music friends (not professionally, just other music lovers), people he met in LA/while traveling for tours, etc.

The crazy to his calm

Some kind of parental figure(s) that soothe the hole in his soul left by his actual parents

Sibling vibes, he's such an older brother but could also be cute if he experienced being the younger sibling vibe

[faustiandevil]

Sophie Török: Conrad Veidt’s Evening Recital

Before we get into it, hey, it’s me ya boi, and I’m no translator by any means, but I did try my best to give back the source material as best as I could (even if I now made an enemy in the form of Sophie Török, see my notes as to why). Also if anyone would like me to do some more translating of Hungarian texts relating to old Hollywood, I will not guarantee I will do it right away, but I can always try. That’s all~! Source will be linked in the replies.

Karinthy speaks of “intellectual cock-eyedness”, which Hungarian writers seem to fall into: those who already view themselves in the eyes of literature history – in the eyes of a late age. But there’s not only temporal “intellectual cock-eyedness”, there’s spatial too; and this describes most well our Hungarian intellectual lives: we view ourselves with the eyes of a foreign nation, and every phenomena that’s even a bit not to our liking, we see it as our country’s backward Balkan influence.

Still, we can hardly rid ourselves of this viewpoint, when we think of that comedy, which came before and after Conrad Veidt’s recital in Budapest: the sea of satirical “colorful reports”, the police cordons, which protected the film star from the siege of hysterical fans, the autograph wars, the uneducated movie public’s threatening enthusiasm (who may have not even understood anything from the grand recital), and the journalists’ arrogant shrugging, who refused to acknowledge that the “film star” made a worthy interpretation this time. (Translators note: Girl, what’s your damage.)

Those dumb woman of Pest, who fluttered with such pleasure: oh, how cute! (Translator’s note: Yes, the word cuki/cute was indeed used here lol) – used the same word for Gunnar Tolnaes as well, and the joy would’ve been even greater, if he came out dressed in a turban of a maharajah; which then comes as no surprise, that the reporter that was sent out there would write such a schlock at the sight of the unqualified and uneducated public (Translator’s note: I took a bit of a liberty with schlock here, but this woman is truly not holding back.) – obviously thinking, that if the crowd of women from the Gerbeaud, offices and hat stores like it so much, it can be nothing more than flighty nonsense.

However – the way our public acts is our fault; it’s the result of our books, our theaters, our critics, or maybe even our racial abilities (Translator’s note: Don’t bring race into this you bitch.) – the guest star is not at fault here! And the truth is that Conrad Veidt’s performance demands some earnest praise.

A recital from a movie star can create the same feeling as when the mute speaks: and the speech came with a sudden shock. This mute was made to speak, or at the very least he is such an artist of the word, as he is of movement. We Hungarians are always so sanguinely enthusiastic about every foreigner: yet we don’t feel enough humility at the display of spoken culture at such a high degree. Conrad Veidt feels the poem, - this can be said of very few artists. Most of our reciter’s do everything in their power, to devour the rhymes, the rhythm be turned to prose, for no one to figure out, that what they are saying, is a poem. Even Veidt acts out the poem, every muscle of his face acts with such an astonishing variety, – but through every loud acting performance pulses the poem that cannot be silenced, with a flood of complicated music, with a beat that can be stomped out with your feet even, the same way as the poor music students do on the opera balcony.

Hearing a recital is usually a boring and tiring thing, I think, that’s the opinion of many, - maybe as the poem is more, or at the very least different, than its brutally exfoliated theme be put into play. As prose turned into theme, even the best poem can fade into boredom. And Veidt’s recital that lasted for two hours didn’t become boring for even a minute, for one by one he faithfully gave back the poems musical individuality. I’m not talking about primitive chanting; Petőfi’s Őrült (Translator’s note: Sándor Petőfi is a famous Hungarian poet and the poem is called Őrült/Madman) – which even in translation sounded very much so as a freeform poem – was like music on Veidt’s lips, as did the lively rhythms of the Goethe songs.

It’s amazing just the same, how Veidt’s interpretation of the poems fits their mood. The demonic pathos came as no surprise from the fantastic movie dramas’ hero, where success is already guaranteed on it’s own from reciting the Őrült. But in Veidt’s performance the Heine-songs delicate flowers didn’t break either, and another example could be where the particular quiet and rich music comes out completely during Babits’ Éjszaka (Translator’s note: Mihály Babits another famous poet from Hungary and the poem is called Éjszaka/Evening), which demands the throat’s most tender chords, with which an artist trying to achieve a cheap impact would surely not even try.

The German language culture is surely greater than the Hungarian. But the culture does not explain everything. As it is, in spite of our meager and few in tradition acting culture there still could’ve been reciters, such as – let me only mention those of most recent fame – Blanka Pécsi, or Oszkár Ascher: than we can conclude that not all German actors are Conrad Veidt either. Still the personality is that Philosopher’s Stone, that magical force, which ennobles the cheap metal into gold. The flavor to Veidt’s reciting also comes from his personality – that completely unique way of reciting poems, which would be reminiscent of Babits’ curious singing, chanting reciting: by all means more the mannerism of a poet than an actor.

Next to Goethe, Heine and Rilke Veidt also recited Ady, Babits and Kosztolányi, with such empathy and love that maybe even our Hungarian chauvinism can be proud of, if the Hungarian chauvinism would be quite unbiased. It’s a special pleasure to our Hungarianness the beautiful translations done by Henrik Horváth, where all its beauty can only truly be appreciated when it’s heard.

Source: Nyugat 1926. 6th edition

[ingek73]

Lewis Capaldi’s Glastonbury set displayed the best of the human spirit – and put disability centre-stage

Frances Ryan

In his moment of triumph, his disabilities visible, the crowd loved him. If only society was always so accepting of difference

Glastonbury “moments” do not typically involve silence. On Saturday night, Lewis Capaldi changed that. There were no surprise guests, no wild costumes, nor any clever covers. At times towards the end of his Pyramid stage set, Capaldi himself wasn’t even singing. But the silence was filled – by the sound of a hundred thousand people coming together to sing the words for him.

If you didn’t see the set, Capaldi – who has spoken previously about having Tourette syndrome and anxiety – had problems with his voice throughout and was visibly affected by tics (involuntary movements or sounds). He gave a stellar performance full of heart and humour, but as the hour went on, it was clear he was struggling. “I’m going to be honest everybody but I’m starting to lose my voice up here, but we’re going to keep going … until the end,” he said. “I just need you all to sing with me as loud as you can if that’s OK?” The crowd did not let him down. By the time his mega-hit Someone You Loved began and his voice had all but gone, the audience had taken over, singing the lyrics back to him. Capaldi simply stood on stage taking it in: a sea of smiling faces stretching as far as the eye could see, thousands of voices singing in unison.

It was deeply moving; the sort of display of communal spirit that didn’t just feel like Glastonbury at its best, but humankind generally.

What made the set feel so momentous was that Capaldi, perhaps unknowingly, countered how we typically understand disability (Tourette syndrome is classified as a disability in the UK). There are still few visibly disabled people in public roles and even fewer in the music industry. Other than Stevie Wonder, how many times have you seen a disabled artist with a high-ranking slot at Glastonbury? Or at any festival? It is not just that Capaldi has disabilities, but that they were present and noticeable during a moment of triumph. That can feel confusing for some. Non-disabled people are taught from an early age that disabled people are either tragic or inspirational – if they’re not “overcoming” what “holds them back”, they’re miserably failing.

At the same time, disability is still portrayed as an inherently bad thing, something that cannot coexist with careers, love or happiness. Capaldi’s performance directly challenged this shallow understanding. The realities of his health were not hidden away or kept out of sight until deemed “more acceptable”: disability was front and centre on the Pyramid stage – with joy, pain and talent alongside it.

The singer, who has just come back from three weeks away due to ill health, has said that he will now take some more time off – and it’s vital that he only performs when he feels able to, not under pressure from record company bosses or out of duty to fans. Yet it’s important to guard against the idea that disabled people in the public eye should be permitted to be visible only when “at their best”.

We still live with the all-too common myth that disabled people should hide their disability, often out of deference to the feelings of non-disabled people watching. Just look at the comments on social media suggesting that Capaldi shouldn’t have gone ahead with the performance. What the non-disabled gaze might see (well-meaningly) as “heartbreaking” or supposedly pitiable is often, in fact, just a disabled person living their life. It’s not that it’s at all wrong to feel for someone clearly struggling; it’s rather that sometimes this approach puts the non-disabled person’s own discomfort and awkwardness above that of the person they’re ostensibly sympathising with.

Ask a disabled person and odds are that they’ll have a story about what this prejudice means in their day-to-day life, whether that’s a young woman in pain from arthritis deciding to go without her cane because strangers shout “You’re too young for that!” or an office worker with multiple sclerosis avoiding presentations because he’s worried about colleagues’ reaction to his voice tremors. That sense of shame and isolation is an incredibly heavy burden to carry every day of your life.

Imagine the difference it would make to people’s lives if disabled bodies were normalised. If a tic were just a twinge on the face and not a sign of failure. That’s why Capaldi’s performance on Saturday matters. As the early evening sun shone over Worthy Farm, the crowd were communicating much more to the singer than his own lyrics. They were saying: “We want you exactly as you are.” In doing so, Glastonbury showed disabled people that acceptance is possible, at least for an hour.

Frances Ryan is a Guardian columnist

[joehillssimp]

Hermitfam is baaaad.

Like it's passable when you consider it's a 30-40 something year old white guy writing and performing it, but like... aside from that it's baad.

The backing beat is good, I like it. However, the chill vibes don't really match the speed Impulse pulls right after the intro poems. It honestly feels more like the backing beat for a singer than that for a rap song, missing the heavy percussion and.... BEAT, that that is typical of the genre.

Even more chill rap songs like Young and Wild and Free(Wiz Kalifa, Snoop Dogg, Bruno Mars, etc) have a set percussion and rhythm that guides the song along and helps to set the pace for the artists performing on the song. And that is really the core of the problem with this song.

Impulse doesn't know how to stay on beat, and doesn't seem to understand that the performer is supposed to stand out, but still fit into the overall composition of the song.

I won't talk about the opening bars, those are more spoken poetry and an introduction than anything. But the first real verse, despite being the strongest one, with a consistent flow, has the problem of not quite matching the backing track.

I don't much to say about it other than that, it's the best part.

Then the chorus comes in with Impulse kicking it up about half a notch speedwise, returns to that thing he did in Hermitgang where he tries to shove too many syllables into one bar, making the whole thing sound jumbled and rushed, like he didn't take the time to actually smooth out the little bumps in his writing before recording.

After that, the next 2 verses have this kind of spoken word, beat poetry, vibe to them. Which is fine, if he hadn't tried to open the song itself with speedrap.

Now it's not uncommon for rappers to have 1 verse, or a bridge in a different style than the rest of the song, but it's hardly ever the first verse, and usually when they bring on a guest, who's voice adds variety and it supposed to act as a high point in the song, before having another chorus or whatever to finish off the song.

It's a climax. So musically, Impulse has the Climax right at the start of the song, and then the rest a kind of chill slide down a lazy river. And i should say, there is nothign wrong with a slower flow, a lot of rappers from the east coast are hella successful off their slower flows, but once again, their flows are on beat, with a consistent cadence and blend with the backing track.

So when he starts off fast, and then slows down for all his other lines, which are at most 12 syllables each, it feels like he couldn't figure out what to say about the rest of the server, or that he was padding for runtime so the song would reach that 2 minute mark. Not to mention completely leaving out TFC.

And I think, that aside from there being no rhythm to the song, Impulse's voice isn't properly balanced by the rest of the beat. Impulse's voice, I wouldn't say it's high pitched, but it's very close to the tonal range that the rest of the song exists in, and so they use volume to make him stand out. It would have been better if perhaps they had taken some deep bass, and used that to set some kind of rhythm, with higher melodies that create a space for Impulse's voice to stand out, while keeping all the audio levels at reasonable levels.

As it stands, Impulse is so loud you can barely hear the beat, especially during the chorus.

I'm not good at explaining my thoughts but yeah uhhh...

In regards to impulse's writing...

Think of the consonants in a word, or line, to be like a drum beat. The way each one is stressed and unstressed, creating each hit and pause in the percussive melody.

For people not familiar with music theory, even drums have tones and pitches, and when you write a rap song, your voice becomes a part of the drums, who's tones support the melody, rather than the melody themselves like in normal singing.

And I listen to how Impulse phrases his words, and how he places his stresses and pauses, and it creates something akin to a child just beating a drum however they like, getting tired but still hitting, and then doing whatever they want on the chorus as well. it's not a good sound.

And the worst part is that I KNOW that impulse plays the drums. I KNOW that he should have a better understanding of rhythm and cadence than that shown in the song. Which makes this as a whole more disappointing.

Maybe he just doesn't understand how that all translates to writing.

I genuinely believe impulse could have made a better song, writing, cadence, overseeing the creation of the beat so it matched his creative vision....

I dunno it feels rushed.

And it sounds like a bad song.

[hellobunny044]

Panels. | Series

panel. in manga art, panels refers to the frame that wraps around one moment in time.

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an original Haikyu AU pairing Udai Tenma (the og little giant)

warning!!: containing some manga content.

word count: 4085

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Panel - 3

A month had passed since Udai had unexpectedly bumped into Sasaki Tsubasa. She was someone he hadn’t seen or spoken to in eight years. He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying their last encounter in his mind.

That day, they had parted ways on good terms. She excused herself telling him to take good care of his health and himself. It would be a lie if he said he was alright after their last encounter.

About the past that once connected the two of them, Udai believed that it was something beautiful that he had been holding tight in his heart, and that’s why there was still a remnant of it all behind his memory. One day in the past, they were fine, connected, and then, suddenly, there was nothing. No more conversations, no more fights, no more anything. They had simply gone their separate ways, leaving everything hanging between them.

It was nothing. It’s just that he wondered if things could have been different if they had just communicated better…. if that day he had just grasped the chance to explain himself…. But the reality was that he was too afraid to reach out, or perhaps too proud.

He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind.

As he was drowning in his own thoughts, someone rang a bell to his apartment. He opened his eyes, not expecting anyone to come at this time of the day. He turned and checked the clock, eight pm. Who could it be?

As he arrived at the entrance, Udai was presented with the sight of a very familiar young man with glasses behind the locked door of his apartment, the very Akaashi perfectionist-editor-of-Weekly-Shonen Keiji.

“Yeah. At such timing? Perfect.”

Udai rushed to his desk in the other room and started doing something about his messy room to make it slightly look like he was currently working hard on the next volume when he was actually not.

One more rang of his apartment door and Udai groaned, relenting on his best attempt to fool Akaashi, if he was ever to be fool with such a cheap trick. The last touch was to mess his hair up a bit more.

Udai Tenma, disheveled as ever, opened the door with a sheepish grin. His unkempt black hair stood on end, a testament to his constant battles with time. “Oh? If it isn’t Akaashi-san! My great editor-san!”

“Good evening, Udai-san.”

Although there had almost been no friendliness in his eyes, Akaashi was not really the grumpy editor like Udai always accused of in his terms.

Well, in truth, Akaashi Keiji had always been the strict editor in his own right, but that was only in certain necessary context such as at this moment, where Udai was clearly neglecting the first thing he was supposed to be doing about the new volume of his Zombie Knight Zomb’ish and its deadline.

Smiling, Udai asked, still not moving from the door. “What’s this unexpected visit about?”

“Nothing. Just a little checking on the artist of Zombie Knight Zomb’ish that has its deadline by the end of this month. I wonder what he’s been doing about it.”

With just that, Udai was instantly on a high alert, afraid that from what might have slipped through his attention, Akaashi had already noticed something about what he was trying to hide, given that his very editor was a high caliber young owl.

“Oh… of course I am working on the new volume. I’m working very hard on it.”

“So? You’re going to keep your guest standing outside and not letting him in?”

Akaashi’s question was met with Udai’s dumb response, “Hm?”

“Whatever… I’ll just go in and see how your hard work is progressing.”

Akaashi easily barged through the entrance of Udai’s apartment, replacing his shoes with slippers and went to Udai’s working desk in a room beside his bedroom.

Akaashi stepped into Udai’s cramped working room, cluttered with piles of old manga volumes and sketchbooks filled with ideas that were yet to materialize. A faint scent of coffee and ink lingered in the air, a familiar aroma that permeated the creative spaces of many mangaka.

Without wasting any time, Akaashi scanned around the room, his eyes inevitably settling on Udai’s drawing tablet. Unsurprisingly, only blank sheets greeted him, devoid of any semblance of a masterpiece in progress and a way too vacant atmosphere on the desk was the last click of Udai’s way too obvious lie about working hard.

Akaashi Keiji had been working as an editor for weekly shonen for two years now. He loved his job; it gave him a glimpse into the fantastic world of manga and anime. Therefore, when he was assigned to work with Udai Tenma, the manga artist behind the famous Zombie Knight Zomb'ish Akaashi was honored. But that excitement quickly died down within weeks of working together.

Udai Tenma was a talented artist, but he was also known for his procrastination skills. He would leave work up until the last minute, making Akaashi’s job quite challenging being his editor. It was a struggle for Akaashi to keep up with Udai’s ever-growing pile of deadlines.

Akaashi, a man of precision, believed in meticulous planning, and any delays caused him immense displeasure. However, he had learned to have a certain level of tolerance for Udai's persistent struggles with deadlines throughout the years. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but anticipate what awaited him beyond the threshold.

“And… so?”

The charming editor turned to the manga artist after catching his imperfect lie red-handedly. His gaze calm, yet somehow threatening. “Is this what working hard is supposed to look like, Udai-san?”

Oh the amount of politeness that he put on his words.

“It was nearly the end of the month, and the 23rd volume of the series was due for release soon.” Akaashi said, his expression stern but understanding.

“I know. I’m working on it.” Udai peered down into his pile of unfinished panels.

Akaashi sighed. “The fans are waiting, and we can’t let them down,” Akaashi said, his face serious.

“Yeah– I know. I know.” Udai’s answer came almost immediately, he was looking almost like he was wincing. “I know. I know and I understand about it more than anyone.”

Udai knew that Akaashi was right. He had been procrastinating for far too long and had yet to make any headway on the new volume.

“I’m working on it, I swear,” Udai lied, trying to cover up his lack of progress.

Akaashi raised an eyebrow skeptically as he trailed over Udai’s desk. His eyes landed on a certain small notebook amidst the chaotic mess on the artist’s desk.

Akaashi was casually parrying all of Udai’s uncharacteristic explanations that he had always been too familiar with when the artist had the balls to keep the lie on play about this whole working hard thing. His hand, however, lifted the notebook from the mess, then began scanning through what he found on the notebook.

On the notebook was an unfamiliar sketch of a girl in a uniform.

Comparing the sketch of Udai’s current work of his manga, and the drawing style, it looks undeveloped, just a raw sketch. On the other side were smaller doodles.

“I’m just having some… some creative struggling, you know—”

“Hm.”

“And you see… sometimes, we, artists, we just simply need a break.”

“A break from reality where your deadline is approaching fast?”

“Yes–”

“No can do.”

“Huh? What did I just say?”

Akaashi ignored what he might have missed as his hand flipped the page of the notebook over. Perhaps, the break that Udai was referring to was what he was looking at. But before Akaashi could register what’s on the other page, Udai snatched the notebook away, aware that Akaashi was seeing something he shouldn’t have seen.

“Oh. Sorry. I was just curious if it was the break that you’re talking about.” Akaashi pointed out to the notebook that Udai was trying to hide awkwardly behind his back. “No?”

“No.” Udai answered almost immediately.

Usually, Akaashi would be absent-minded and nonchalant about everything besides work, but his hunch whispered that there was something more about it.

“Are you planning to add another character?”

“Huh?” Udai was dumbfounded.

Akaashi pointed to the sketch, and that alone was enough to give Udai a sufficient explanation about what Akaashi was referring to.

“Is that a new character?”

“No.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow, looking at Udai with suspicion. “Really? I thought it looked familiar. You should consider using it in your manga. It might add some depth to the story,”

“... no.” Udai concluded, he walked over to his desk and put the notebook in the drawer.

Udai was aware that selling a promise to Akaashi was no longer something new, especially with Akaashi’s familiarity with his procrastination over the past two years of working together. Nonetheless, Udai still sold one to him today.

“I promise I’ll finish it on time, Akaashi-san. You can trust me.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow dubiously. “I hope you do, Udai-san. I’ll be waiting for the new volume on the deadline,” he intoned in a calm yet threatening tone.

Udai felt a shiver run down his spine as Akaashi’s words sunk in. He knew that he had to work harder if he wanted to meet the looming deadline.

“Yeah. I understand, and I’ll make sure to hand in the new volume on time,” Udai responded, trying to hide the fear and guilt that he felt.

Akaashi sighed. “There it is, those words again.”

Udai moved closer, pushing Akaashi away from his desk. “Come on, Akaashi-san! You know I’ve always done my best each time. I’ll finish it on time this time. I promise.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Make sure you finish it on time. I don’t want to have to keep reminding you.”

Udai nodded eagerly. “Don’t worry, Akaashi-san. I’ve got this. Just give me a little space to work, okay?”

“Of course.” Akaashi responded. “But before anything, can you give me my personal space and get off of me, please?”

Realizing that he had been having his hands on Akaashi’s shoulder even after they stepped out of his working room, Udai immediately pulled away and nodded.

“Oh. My bad.”

Akaashi sighed, having more than enough of his artist’s classics. “Well then, Udai-san. I’ll get going now.”

“Oh yeah.” Udai nodded.

“Don’t forget about the deadline.”

“Yes, Akaashi-san. I have a clearer mind now since you’re stopping by so I won’t need you to remind me of that one more time.” Udai smiled then sighed. “I get it. The deadline is by the end of this month.”

The curly-haired mangaka snapped his finger and pointed to his editor, “I’ll get it done even before that.”

“That’s an obvious lie.” Akaashi’s words, being said in his calm trademark, was a hard slap of reality to Udai���s face.

Udai looked down, “I promise I’ll work hard, Akaashi-san. Twice as hard.”

“That one goes without saying.”

Akaashi’s expression softened slightly as he looked around Udai’s apartment. He spotted a bunch of empty snack wrappers on the counter.

“Also, Udai-san,” Akaashi’s step halted. “make sure to eat a proper meal. Don’t eat too many chips.”

Udai nodded meekly, feeling more and more embarrassed by the second. He had let his personal life consume him, to the point where he was neglecting his health and work.

As soon as Akaashi left, Udai sat down at his desk to start working. He knew that it was going to be a long, hard journey to meet the deadline, but he was determined to succeed. Every time his mind wandered back to Sasaki Tsubasa, he pushed the thoughts aside and reminded himself that he had another thing to mind.

********************************************************

Udai had been working on the new volume of Zombie Knight Zomb'ish for hours. His desk was littered with papers, and his eyes were beginning to feel strained. He reached over to grab another bag of chips, only to realize that he was out.

Groaning with frustration, Udai stood up and put on a jacket. He had to run errands in the neighborhood's convenience store to buy more chips. As he headed out, he noticed a group of teenagers playing outdoor volleyball nearby.

The sound of the ball hitting the pavement brought back a flood of memories from Udai’s high school days. He used to play volleyball in Karasuno High School, and he had been pretty good at it. But then he started working as a manga artist and realized that he had given up on sport entirely.

Udai watched as the teenagers hurled the ball back and forth, laughing and shouting as they played. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of nostalgia and longing for his own past.

As he walked towards the store, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. He thought about his high school days and how much he enjoyed playing volleyball. He remembered how he had once dreamed of becoming a professional volleyball player, but those dreams had faded over time.

Lost in his thoughts, Udai arrived at the convenience store and grabbed a few bags of chips. As he left the store, he noticed that the teenagers were still playing volleyball. He found himself drawn back to their game, unable to resist the temptation to watch.

As he leaned against a nearby fence, Udai watched as the teenagers played. He watched as they dove for the ball, spiked it over the net, and high-fived each other after every point. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy as he watched them playing with such carefree joy and abandon.

For a moment, Udai forgot about work. He forgot about deadlines, the new volume of Zombie Knight Zomb'ish, and the pressure that came with being a manga artist. He just watched the teenagers play, lost in his own memories of his own volleyball days.

He still remembered the day he declared his enthusiasm for a sport. The day he was confronted with the harsh reality that the world brought within itself the unfairness in the word fair. In this world, people seem to have to be fair in choosing their dreams, because if not, then they will only end up becoming a laughing stock, just like that day.

Of all the things, of all the sports he could have chosen, young Udai made his choice on volleyball after watching a match between Japan National Team and Brazil.

His dream was big: something that easily happens to young boys who take on the world with fervor and passion. Udai, after seeing how there was an art of fun in volleyball, decided that he would be like one of the people who took part in the fun match he had witnessed.

However, after his declaration to the world about his dream, the world laughed at him with things like how people seemed to need to think about their dreams more fairly.

One day, someone said: A taller, bigger body is a weapon and a treasure in volleyball as only the strong survive on the field for a long time.

Udai didn’t stubbornly refute that. He simply understands that the world indeed works like that.

Even in the matches he watched, there was only one place where someone of small stature could fit in. Udai wasn’t stubborn. He knew that being average, or small in some other terms, was a disadvantage if volleyball was where he belonged.

So, for Udai, to be able to grasp the equal chance to make volleyball his home, he had to work twice, no, ten times harder than others. Also, to have a strong desire to keep going and not give up.

“Being a wing spiker with such height? It’s like hoping to reach the moon on a hill.”

One day, among all the people who were not supposed to say that, a middle-aged man, Ukai Ikkei, became the first person to say it to him with a line of facts that he had to look at with open eyes and accept with a big heart.

“Then, please teach me how to do it properly.”

The middle-aged man who looked more like a soldier than just a high school club coach turned. With one arm around his waist, he looked at Udai almost condescendingly with his intense gaze.

Like a young, growing crow, Udai challenged his luck before a monster who might be able to give him something that could pave the way for him to turn his weakness into his strongest weapon.

“I came here because I love volleyball. But I’m quite aware that misfortune is on my side.”

Ukai Ikkei smiled wryly, slightly laughing at the honesty Udai brought to the table. “It’s true.”

“But, even so, I want to stay here.”

“What for? To prove yourself? I didn’t come here to listen to some sentimental schoolboys who’s being unfair to himself.”

“I think I’ve been pretty fair to myself.”

The middle-aged man’s brows rose.

“I think simply about the concept of fairness. That of all things, in a world where people have the opportunity to dream as they wish, to be fair to myself is to bring that exact same opportunity to myself.”

Ukai Ikkei was a man known for being strict. No one had ever seen him being anything but scary. He was always in coach mode, except for that day.

Before him, there a young boy was willing to fight the world for a dream that he held tightly in his heart. Before him, was a young boy who would not give up on his dream of bringing himself the fairness that the world had denied him. Before him, was a brave young crow with a turbulent sense of growth.

“I came here to learn how to fight with all that I am, all my flaws.”

Ukai Ikkei’s smile at Udai’s statement was lopsided. Amused. It almost looked like a snicker, but he was being serious.

“You think you’re being fair by dreaming of a position as a wing spiker?”

“Yes.”

“Even if you keep getting blocked in every attempt?”

“Yes.”

Ukai Ikkei smiled. “Then what? Let’s hear what you want to ask of me.”

“For an opportunity that did not come my way, I would like to ask you to teach me how to dominate aerial combat.”

“Being that short?”

“I want to because I’m at a disadvantage because of my height.”

Udai had realized his weakness long ago and had become strong after accepting it and having enough faith in what he could do. He never became confident for the reason that he felt stronger than anyone else. He became confident to shore up his hole-filled self so that he could ensure that he could bring himself the opportunities that the world was not giving him.

“Please teach me!”

With enough courage and determination, Udai bowed wholeheartedly before his coach one year ago.

Ukai Ikkei sighed, but smiled at the determination Udai showed him.

“Very well. I will tell you what you can do about it.”

Udai’s eyes lit up, welcoming the wholeness when his hands came into contact with the chance to turn his weakness into strength.

“Before that, you need to get used to the ball. Pass the ball to me, Shrimp.”

Ukai Ikkei tossed him the ball, which he deftly passed back. The ball came quite high to him, giving Ukai Ikkei the advantage to throw a spike to Udai.

“And in order to get used to the ball, you need to always be touching it.”

Another spike met Udai’s hands perfectly, as if Udai knew that was where the coach would send the ball to.

“Volleyball is a sport where you can’t hold the ball. You’re only allowed to touch the ball for a few seconds of contact. You need to control that moment. Since your body is small, you need to make up for it with everything else.”

This time, the ball that came to him was not a high-speed spike, but a toss that he had never been able to get freely over the net before. In his eyes, the image of the ball that came to him, reflected beautifully, like a beautiful dream that finally came to him as a by-product of his maturity in accepting his weaknesses.

Udai knew his weakness. Just like some people who had also gotten there, he knew his weaknesses well and had accepted them as part of fairness in his terms.

In the brief moment when he came in contact with fairness, the chance that came his way, Udai had to control that moment. Once he manages to control the moment of contact that comes to him, then slowly, he will get used to it and eventually find a way to grasp the opportunity.

“Volleyball is a sport of height. It’s an absolute that taller players are stronger, but there are various kinds of strength. The great coach Arie Selinger once said, there is no reason to believe that there will be no development or changes in the future.”

Ukai Ikkei added one most important thing of all.

“So what if you’re short? Don’t you ever dare to look down on yourself. Volleyball is a sport where you’re always looking up.”

To this day, from that day forward, he always remembers those words.

One day, Udai woke up on a day where he could touch the ball longer and stay on the court longer than anyone else. It was all the by-product of his wisdom of accepting his weaknesses and his willingness to hone them carefully into his greatest strength.

Udai Tenma, will no longer be swayed by what people say about the weaknesses he had in this one world where he was anchored. He would carry and accompany himself to keep moving forward. Slowly. Because it will only come back to life when hard work is done wholeheartedly, just like what has become his routine.

“Left!”

His voice was loud as he raised his arms, calling for a toss from the rosy-haired setter behind the net, preparing with an approach that kept him on the second tempo for a spike.

With enough stride, enough power in his legs, and enough strength centered in his core as he brought himself to the highest point of his jump, where he poured all his energy into his hands, Udai could see what was behind the net clearly. It was as if the seconds were spinning at the slowest possible pace, and even though there were two or three tall arms stretching out as the wall to the point he was fighting for, Udai had arrived to where he could decide where he was going to hit the ball to.

Udai was not Ukai Ikkei’s favorite. In fact, Ukai Ikkei did not have a favorite on the team.

Even though Udai was someone on whose shoulders rested the burden of being the ace, Udai had never been the coach’s favorite. But that was not the important part. Because no matter what, he would continue to give his best in every aerial battle.

KA BOOM!

Udai hit the ball between the blockers’ fingers and scored a block out point for his team.

The word Don’t mind had become Nice kill!.

The word Nice Kill that he could never hear a year ago, always rang in his ears after he managed to find the best way for him to conquer the aerial battle.

On the court where there were six people risking everything to keep the ball in the air, Udai gained the confidence to keep his head up towards the ball. Because after all, volleyball is a sport where you have to always look up.

Volleyball is a sport where anybody is never allowed to look down, a sport where he is never allowed to look down at himself. Volleyball is a sport that keeps each player believing in his own abilities which will connect one player with another to cover each other’s weaknesses. That’s why Udai always felt the most confident when he was on the court, connecting to the ball and the other player.

Udai realized that although he may have given up sports, he hadn’t given up on his aspirations entirely. He had simply shifted his focus to manga. Watching those teenagers playing volleyball had reminded him of the joy of doing something that he loved, something that brought him pure happiness.

—

Next chapter coming soon!