#this is the 3rd time i try to publish cause it wasn't showing up on my dash before

[svampira]

For some reason tumblr won't let me post these lmao

[saffronapplemanga]

Tenmaku no Jadoogar: A Witch’s Life in Mongol - 天幕のジャードゥーガル

HISTORICAL, DRAMA

Tenmaku no Jadoogar: A Witch's Life in Mongol by Tomato Soup

(1 volume, ongoing)

JP only. Hopefully, it gets licensed! Please hire me to translate this, publishing companies. The first 5 chapters are up for free in JP here.

Links to my other manga posts here

An Irani girl named Fatima who’s a captive of the Mongol Empire and uses her education to her advantage??? 

Hello, my name is Fatimah, I’m half Irani, and it’s finally my time >:)

I hope you guys are ready for history and cultural lessons! I worked really hard on this post and she’s a long one... I literally just came back from an Iran trip and got some books, took pictures, and consulted people who know more than me for this post (the trip wasn't for the post, that was a coincidence lolllll).

This series won first place in the オンナ編 (Female Category) for the このマンガがすごい！2023 / Kono Manga ga Sugoi 2023 / “This Manga is Amazing! 2023″. I’ve talked about the Male Category’s 1st, 2nd, 3rd place winners. Check the links if you’re interested :)

This post will be broken up into the following sections - What's It About? - Some Background - Representation - My Localization Choices - Story - Art - Culture Time! - Let's Talk Religion - The First Word From God, "Read".

Enjoy!

What's It About?

I usually don't like to go into plot details too much so you can discover the story for yourself. But since it isn't currently accessible in English at all, I figured I’d summarize the first chapter so you at least know what it’s about. Then I’ll summarize the rest of the chapters in a spoiler section for those who are interested. That way, we can all be informed enough to discuss it. I might touch on themes or other things outside the first chapter in the discussion, but I’ll try to do it in a way that doesn’t spoil for those of you who want to wait and read it for yourselves.

Chapter 1

We kick off with a rather poetic reference to scholars using geometry to measure the earth and the idea of trying to quantify fate. In 13th-century Iran/Persia, in the city of Tous, we meet a family looking for a domestic worker. The family is a woman, Fatima, who is newly widowed, her son, Mohamed, and her brother. A slave trader offers her some options, but they are rather pricey. So he suggests she take a little girl, Sitara, for a heavily discounted price. The slave trader asks Fatima to educate Sitara since they are a scholarly family, so she does.

However, Sitara plays dumb to ensure her value as a slave stays low. That way, no one would bother taking her to faraway lands to sell her for higher prices as she wants to stay close to her home to try and go back. Sitara tries to sneak out and runs into Mohamed, who talks to her about why he thinks learning is so great. He inspires her to pursue an education so she can have the tools to handle whatever life throws at her. Mohamed wants to travel and learn from others to find the "truth" for himself. He promises Sitara that he'll write letters to her and his mother, which further inspires her to learn to read.

The chapter ends with Mohamed leaving Tous, and the narrator tells us it was the last time Mohamed and Sitara ever saw each other.

Chapters 2-5

I'm going to speed through the rest now that we got the setup out of the way.

***SPOILERS FOR CHAPTERS 2-5***

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8 years have passed since Mohamed left and Sitara has been pursuing an education under the direction of Fatima and her brother. While the Tous army is investigating strange activity near their borders, Fatima shows Sitara some things her late husband left behind such as books and astrology tools.

As the Mongols are closing in on Tous, Fatima and Sitara hunker down in a cellar to wait the threat out. Unfortunately, they're found, and one of the Mongol princes takes a book that belonged to Fatima's late husband. Sitara tries to stand up to him, causing her to be attacked. Fatima takes the blow, saying, "Don't touch my daughter," before passing away.

Tous is razed to the ground, and its citizens killed or driven out and forced to march to the Mongol camp. Sitara finds out that the city of Neyshabur, the city Mohamed is studying at, was also attacked. His whereabouts are unknown.

Interestingly, the Mongol prince was specifically looking for the book he took since his fiance had asked him for it. However, the book is in Persian and they are unable to read it. Sitara meets a boy who is interpreting for the Mongols in an effort to make himself more useful to avoid becoming a meat shield in battles for them. While he can speak Mongolian and Persian, he can't read. But, Sitara can. He asks her to team up with him to help each other become more valuable to their capturers. Sitara will read the stolen book, and the boy will translate. He suggests she come up with a more "elegant" or "majestic" name before presenting herself to the Mongol princes. She steps into their tent and introduces herself as "Fatima".

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***END OF SPOILERS FOR CHAPTERS 2-5***

Some Background

Quick disclaimer, I'm by no means an expert. A lot of this is what I know and what I've experienced. I might have to make some generalizations or else we're gonna be here all day.

I feel like I’m about to overshare but I want to offer my perspective on this series. I don’t get to do this often so indulge me please. This background is so you have an idea of some things that influenced my perspective on this story.

For those of you new around here, I'm a Kuwaiti/Irani-American, Japanese-to-English translator (I speak English, Arabic, and Japanese).

What that means more specifically is that I've grown up/lived in the U.S. my whole life, visiting Kuwait when we could, until I moved to Japan after college. My parents are both Kuwaiti with Kuwaiti fathers, born and raised, but both of their mothers are Irani. They know Farsi to varying degrees of fluency as a second language. I never learned it since their first language is Arabic and that was the language they focused on teaching me while living in the U.S. They usually spoke Farsi if they wanted to keep me and my brother out of a conversation between adults, rude. But I can sometimes pick up on some things being said. One of my best friends is Irani-American (Her name is also Fatimah! It's a ridiculously popular name) and our experiences are quite different, but there's overlap as well!

For those of you who don't know where Kuwait is. It's a tiny little country in the northern end of the Persian Gulf in Western Asia. FYI "Mina" in "Mina Al Ahmadi," which you can see on the map, means "port".

Most of our Kuwaiti relatives have Irani roots and some Turkish. There are a lot of ethnic groups in Kuwait because it started out as a port city that was a part of the Silk Road network. (I actually wanna study the Silk Road more!) So lots of people from all over gathered there. There are afro-Kuwaitis, those with blonde hair and blue eyes (my mom's relatives are like this), those with more East Asian features (my cousins), those with darker features (my dad's side), etc.

The Silk Road in the 1st century, courtesy of Wikipedia. You can see the route going through Kuwait. It was specifically part of the Maritime Silk Road route.

Because of all the trade, you can see the influences of many other regions in the food, clothes, language, culture, and so on.

But, yeah! History is cool.

Representation

I am indeed one of those people who is annoyingly passionate about representation. Like, I could write a whole Master’s dissertation on why it’s so important, but I’ll spare you… for now. More eloquent people have already done so anyways.

As you can imagine, I’m not used to seeing myself represented in media. And any representation I did get, was… well, how do I put this… not great? Bad™ actually. Beyond racist tbh. So can you blame me for being excited? I’m still mad about that one episode of Grey’s Anatomy when that girl whipped off her scarf/hijab to save a patient IN A FULLY STOCKED HOSPITAL!!! That would NEVER happen ;_; like imagine if you pulled your pants off to put pressure on a wound when the gauze is literally right there. I CAN’T, where do I even begin??? But I digress.

And even if I wasn’t a person from this culture, it’s just cool to see rep we don’t usually get! For example, Requiem of the Rose King is fresh in my mind right now, but having an intersex main character is not something I recall seeing. While not intersex myself, nor a noble from ye olde times, I related to Richard a lot and appreciate what the story did. I can see people from other cultures relating to Tenmaku no Jadoogar, or simply just learning new things about a culture we don’t get to see a lot of rep about.

My Localization Choices

There are no official spellings for this manga, so some explanations as to why I wrote things the way I did. Thankfully, these are all real-world names with context, so I'm not pulling nonsense out of thin air. Localizing uncommon/made-up names is... hard... traumatic flashbacks to when I had to look up official spellings for Gundam and Kamen Rider and the client didn't give me glossaries... Literally did research about Sypha Belnandes' name localization being all over the place for this blog post. Spoiler, I don’t think it was supposed to be Belnandes.

It really be like that...

Sitara - シタラ "Shitara". This isn't a name I was familiar with, so I asked my mom and Irani-American friend if it sounded like a name they knew. I wanted to say "Sitra" sounds like something that has a more "West Asian pronunciation" than the Japanese pronunciation in the manga. I was wrong and it's "Sitara" which means "star" just like what they said in the story.

Fatima - ファーティマ "Fātima". Same as my name! It's a super popular name. I katakana-fied my name as ファティーマ, which is the same, I just put the dash that elongates the sound in a different place. Why? Fatima is an Arabic name فَاطِمَة. In classical Arabic, it's pronounced like Fā-dtee-ma or Fadt-ma in Kuwaiti Arabic (the letter طِ doesn't exist in EN/JP and the best way I can describe it is it's like D+T sound.) An Irani pronunciation is more like Fā-teh-meh, which is what my grandma and Irani-American friends call me. In English, I personally pronounce my name like Fuh-tee-ma, but people have various preferences. So basically, I took the Arabic and English pronunciations and katakana-fied it how I thought it would sound best in Japanese. And no one has ever pronounced my name wrong in Japan since katakana is phonetic and is actually pronounced how it's spelled. Wild I know. Meanwhile in the U.S. ... *cries* I have a half-Irani-half-Japanese acquaintance who doesn't put any elongated sound in her name like ファティマ, and it's all just preference tbh. There are also different ways you can spell it in English, but "Fatima" is the most common way.

Mohamed - モハンマド "Mohanmado". This one is pretty straightforward. I think most people are familiar with this name. Also super popular. There are various English spellings as well, so I just went with a common, shorter spelling (manga bubble space is limited after all, haha).

The title, 天幕のジャードゥーガル Tenmaku no Jadougal (this is how it's romanized on anilist), also doesn't have an official translation. It basically translates to Witch of the Marquee. Tenmaku="tent/marquee" in Japanese. ジャードゥーガル comes from جادوگر "jadoogar" meaning "witch" in Farsi. The romanization of the title should actually be Tenmaku no Jadoogar. There is no "L" in Japanese, so it often becomes "R". In Japanese, ジャードゥーガル is "Jādoogaru". Without context, it's often hard to tell if it's supposed to be "L" or "R" so I don't blame them for the mistake. But yeah, that's why I wrote it as Tenmaku no Jadoogar for the title at the top of the post. How do I contact the anilist admins about correcting that? The way my brain is short-circuiting trying to combine Japanese, English, my nonexistent Arabic reading skills since Farsi uses basically the same alphabet, and consulting my Farsi "sources"... my brain can only handle two of the three languages I speak at the same time...

Shout out to Fatimah #2 for putting up with all my questions <3 Farsi has some extra letters that aren't in Arabic and I didn't know about that one...

Story

I’m starting to realize that I really dig historical fiction. Things like Requiem of the Rose King (current read, I'm obsessed), Vinland Saga, Bride’s Story (a priority TBR of mine), and Ertugrul (this one is a Turkish drama, highly recommend!) are so fascinating because we get to take a peek at what life used to be like, especially if the author did their homework. This story reminds me of Ertugrul at times since they both take place in West Asia during the 13th century, and the characters in both had run-ins with the Mongols.

This baddie took out three Mongolian soldiers on her own!!! Well, her horse helped. Horses are great. I'm a horse girl, literally took riding lessons for ~4 years.

I found out while researching for this post that this story is in fact based on a real person in history! Here's the Wikipedia page, more info here by Dr. Jack Weatherford who wrote a book that I'm totally going to read once I can get my hands on it. I think this manga is going in a similar vein as Vinland Saga where the events are real historical events, and some characters were actual people in history, but the author is going to take creative liberties. (Check out Merphy Napier and Philip Chase's Vinland Saga discussions. They're great and Philip has a lot of historical knowledge relevant to that series that's super informative!)

The characters are lovable and interesting. I like Sitara's spunk, Mohamed's thoughtfulness, and Fatima's gentle nature, just to name a few. The relationship Sitara has with Mohamed and Fatima was very sweet. I'm interested to see how the relationship that I mentioned at the end of chapter 5 goes. Also intrigued by the bits of relationship dynamics with the Mongolian characters we have so far.

I got super excited when the theme of "learning/education" came up. Seeing how that looked back in 13th-century Persia which was a hotspot for advances in many fields is so cool! This story led me to do some research and asking around on topics I was familiar with, but not an expert on, and I learned things about my own culture/religion. More on learning and education later. But overall, a strong start and I can't wait to read more!

Art

My twitter reading thread for this series

The art is very stylized, like a chibi-esque style with Persian art influences. I like the contrast between the simplified shapes and the detailed bits. I’m a big fan of inky blacks and white whites. I know all manga is black and white but this one feels like it has more contrast due to the simplified shapes. It's got tons of charm!

The shoujo-esque flowery background, but make it Irani-flavored✨ It looks like the rug we got in Iran!

Some pictures I took at historical sites in Tehran with more examples of flowery imagery. Sorry if the image quality sucks, I didn't have my good camera :(

Culture Time!

As soon as I saw this cover, I felt a sense of familiarity. Particularly, the style of henna on her hands made me go, “Hey! That’s similar to how we do our henna!” While we also do the mehndi style henna (Is that the right term? Help) in Kuwait because of Indian influences due to longtime trade, we have another kind as well. You take the paste and hold it in your hands while curling your fingertips into it.

I had such a hard time finding pics that weren’t the intricate mehndi design ones. I would’ve just put henna on my own hands and taken a pic to show what I’m talking about, but it’s winter and it’s not good to use henna in winter because it has a cooling effect. I put henna on in winter once, and it made me so much colder. But makes you feel nice and cool in the summer! That’s why it’s traditionally applied to the head, hands, and feet, which are places you have a lot of heat dissipate from and it saps the heat away. I remember my mom doing that for me and my brother all the time when we were little during summer.

But! With the help of my mom, she helped me narrow it down. I didn't know the actual name of this style of henna. I just called it Kuwaiti-style henna lol. Apparently, it's حنه قصعة henna gasa'a, and bingo!

It doesn't show super well here, but the tops of the fingertips are also dyed like on the cover of the manga. Love that nazar ring though, so cute! 🧿

This is the mehndi style henna that people are most familiar with.

When I was little, I assumed that henna was made from soil because there are soils that can dye things a reddish color. But it's actually from a plant! The leaves are ground into a powder and then made into a paste when you want to use it.

Health, cleanliness, and hygiene are big deals in Islam. Other than being used for beauty and it’s cooling effect, henna is also used to keep oneself clean and smelling nice. It’s said that the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) utilized henna as well.

I actually didn't know much about Iran's henna culture. When I asked my Irani-American friend whose family is from Tehran (northern Iran), she said she wasn't familiar with any. But like Kuwait, Iran has a lot of ethnic groups. It's also a large region (it used to be a whole empire and all that, too), so there are definitely people who do use it!

Turkmen Iranis, dying their fingertips with henna, exactly like in the manga! My family are Turk, too! (From a book I picked up a few days ago in Iran, "Nomads: Migrating with Swallows". What a pretty title...)

The clothing of the characters also felt very familiar. The cover of volume one reminded me of this picture:

Maku Kurd girl ("Nomads: Migrating with Swallows")

Iran grows tons of fruit, herbs, and flowers, famously roses! Rose water is a staple we pretty much always had at home.

Rose water is used for medicinal purposes and has antibacterial and anti-inflammatory qualities. People often wash up with it since it has a lovely fragrance and makes you smell nice. It's also used in foods and desserts or added to drinking water for flavor and health benefits.

Sitara bringing Fatima rose water. It looks just like this 12th-century rose water container. We still have containers like this nowadays and I actually used one to wash my hands recently.

Faloodeh (Persian Lime and Rose Water Granita With Rice Noodles), Bastani Sonati (Saffron and Rose Water Ice Cream), in Kuwait we say Sharbat Nimil but apparently, it's Tokhm-e Sharbatie in Iran (Rose Water and Basil Seed Drink) Fun fact: Sharbat Nimil means "ant drink" because the seeds look like... ants... and the thought freaked me out as a kid, I never wanted to drink it. I thought my aunt was messing with me but my parents said, "Yeah, no, that's actually what it's called."

Dates! Another staple. Always have some in the house.

These are ripe dates. We call them "tamar". Sweet, delicious, amazing.

These are fresh dates! We call them "khalal". Sweet, crunchy, amazing.

The architecture was also, you guessed it, familiar as well. Particularly the courtyards! It really took me back.

Courtyards! My Irani grandma (also Fatima, I told you it was a popular name...) had a courtyard home in Kuwait too, but less fancy, and she had a huge date tree instead of a fountain. We would play there all the time when we visited. Also reminds me of the houses in some of the Irani movies I've seen.

Let's Talk Religion

I know religion is historically always a fun and totally not divisive topic, but we're all going to be civil and discuss stuff like adults. I'm not trying to convert anyone, I swear. Chasing after people and forcing religion down their throats is actually frowned upon in Islam believe it or not. I’m also not saying it’s a better religion than others or anything of the sort so don’t come for me. It's just relevant to the story and I'm hoping we can interact in good faith, so let's talk.

I am NOT a scholar, this is just what I know and my understanding so please don't quote me. I probably have to gloss over and simplify a lot because there's... too much.

There are various interpretations of Islam. The Quran, to my understanding, is meant to have its interpretations evolve over time to address the issues of people no matter the time or place. Issues faced centuries ago might not be as pressing now, or we might have new issues today that weren't a thing back in the day. Iranians mainly practice Shia Islam, which is also the sect I know most about so that's what we're focusing on.

Islam is the fastest-growing religion. It's also quite misunderstood due to hate/misinformation, AND — I'm gonna just say it — there are Muslims who have skewed interpretations of Islam's teachings. Am I the perfect Muslim and my interpretations are law? I didn't say that, obviously not. But I'm going to call it how I see it. I don't take sides and I'm not going to defend someone just because they identify as Muslim if they're doing stuff that doesn't make sense (that would be un-Islamic and just... dumb imo). But anyway, there are a few points I’d like to touch on so we all have a base understanding.

Many people think that Allah (SWT) is “the Muslim god” but actually, he’s the same god that brought down the Bible and Torah. He's just... God. This is why you’ll see a lot of crossover between these religions. And Christian Arabs, for example, say Allah because that’s just God in Arabic.

Why did God come up with different religions? It’s my understanding each religion was what the people needed at the time. (Also because of the next point.)

Muslims DO believe in the original Bible and Torah, but historically there's evidence that these books have been altered by people over the years. (Again, I'm not saying your religion is wrong if you're Christian or Jewish. You do you.) Then what about the Quran? I’ll actually address that later.

Muslims DO believe in Jesus. We just think he's a prophet instead of the son of God or God.

Cool? Cool.

Now to address some religion-related things that came up in the story.

The part where there is the selling of slaves made me raise an eyebrow since slavery is not allowed in Islam, because, duh.

I did some research and asked around. I was able to talk to my Irani-American friend's aunt when I visited them during my Iran trip last week since she's studied this kind of stuff. She joked that I should save myself the trouble and not touch the slavery topic, especially with Americans since it's... like... a super touchy topic. But this is an important topic and we should talk about important topics instead of shying away from them. Respectfully, of course. And maybe we can all learn something. It was a perspective on slavery that was very different from what I'm used to hearing about in the U.S. She essentially confirmed what I was thinking.

The Quran envisions the ideal society as one in which slavery no longer exists. Since slavery was such a widespread issue around the whole world back in the olden days, (it still is an issue today, but I'm assuming it was worse back then) it was unfortunately unrealistic to try and abolish it in one fell swoop. Again, this isn’t just abolishing in one country or region, but tackling the issue worldwide. So, in Islam, the idea is that there are steps in place to phase it out. For example:

No free people can be enslaved, duh.

People cannot be enslaved due to debt or crime.

You are encouraged to help slaves buy their way to freedom by giving them money to do so or buying them to free them.

If you are in possession of a slave, you should free them.

If you house a slave, you must treat them well.

This last one is just an interesting thing I didn’t know about that I saw in my research and it came up in the story — Slaves get half the punishment for a sin than if the same sin was committed by a free person.

I wondered why then, did Fatima's family not free Sitara and the other slaves? It didn’t look like they had anything stopping them from running away either. Sure, Sitara got scolded by another slave for trying to leave, but she could have tried again and run away. The other slaves in the story seemed like they wanted to/were okay with staying, even though they did wish they could go home and felt homesick. So what’s up?

It's my understanding that back then, it was common for people to take slaves into their families, sometimes even presenting the option of marriage into the family if they were interested, and offering shelter and and education. It was a way to take them off the streets, away from the slave traders, and keep them safe.

Why not just take everyone back to their homes? Various reasons. They might be in danger if they try to go back. They might not have anywhere to go back to. Also, this was the 13th century. It's not like they could just hop on a plane and go home. There's also no law enforcement the way we have today. Hell, even with all the local and international law enforcement of today, slavery is still a major issue.

Sitara wants to go home but has no home to go back to.

Is this ideal? As I mentioned, ideally slavery wouldn't even be a thing. I’m pretty sure we can all agree slavery=bad. I'm not here to argue that. But I also think it's important to try and understand what things were like back then and why people did what they did. A lot of times I see people measure things with their standards that were developed in modern day, with their own life experience. You need to be careful when doing that. I'm sure in the future, people will look back at us like, "Damn, y'all lived like that???"

Perhaps, this was the best the average person could do. Try to protect them and offer them shelter and an education. As long as we don’t live in an ideal world, we need to consider various solutions to issues. So this was an interesting way to try and tackle the issue given the time and circumstances. It’s rather different from what I think most Americans know about this subject.

Did everyone do this? I'm going to say probably not. Terrible people always exist. Plus there are plenty of people who say they practice a religion, but cherry-pick what they want to follow, do the opposite, have distorted understandings of its teachings, or just downright weaponize religion to suit them. That's a whole other discussion though, so I'll leave it there.

I would like to read more about this topic though, so if anyone knows any sources, let me know!

The First Word From God - "Read"

"Slave or not, it is a Muslim's duty to seek knowledge, as stated in the hadiths."

What's a hadith? Here you go. Also, this is the OG Fatima, Lady Fatima (PBUH).

When God first sent the angel Gabriel down to Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), his first word to him was, "read". Education and seeking knowledge are SUPER important in Islam, and should not be kept from anyone regardless of race, gender, social standing, etc. Seeking knowledge will make you a more rational, well-rounded person. Knowledge in this context is broad and all-encompassing. It doesn't only mean religion, math, and science, but philosophy, art, and so on. Literally anything. I hope I don't really need to convince anyone that education is a human right and empowering and all that stuff, so let's keep it moving.

"Isn't that what learning is all about?"

To address this earlier point:

Muslims DO believe in the original Bible and Torah, but historically there's evidence that these books have been altered by people over the years. Then what about the Quran?

Tbh, I hesitated to include this part because people might misinterpret or take offense. To reiterate for the umpteenth time, I'm not saying your religion is wrong if you're Christian or Jewish. You do you. We’re actually told to respect believers of these religions. I swear!

So, yeah. Moving on.

Another reason seeking knowledge is an obligation in Islam is so that you are able to read the Quran for yourself. When loads of people read it, memorize it, and are familiar with it, any changes will not go unnoticed. This is to stop people from weaponizing and distorting the Quran's teachings. And this is why there is only ONE Quran, and not multiple versions (I’m not talking about translated Qurans). Modern-day Qurans match the oldest Qurans. They haven't changed.

In general, having knowledge about things makes you less susceptible to being lied to or misled, regardless of the topic. Unfortunately, I'm in the camp where I believe not enough people do their own research and reading. And again, I don't just mean religion, but everything. That kind of thing takes effort, and effort is hard.

Go read!

You're Still Here?

Like the first-place winner for the Male Category, The Summer Hikaru Died, which I’ve been pushing on anyone who will listen since volume one hit bookstores in Japan, Tenmaku no Jadoogar: A Witch's Life in Mongol deserves to win the Female Category. From what I can see so far, it’s well researched and written with love. I'm looking forward to seeing how this story unfolds and I may add more thoughts as we go.

Volume 2 is due to come out February 16th, so I’ll be tweeting my thoughts on my reading thread. The link to this post is on Twitter here if you want to share it there. EDIT: Volume 2 post is up!

If there's anything else you'd like to see me discuss or expand on, let me know and I'll see what I can do. I'd love to hear what others think!

I await your email publishers, my resume is ready... fatimahhajiasiri@gmail.com

🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿🪬🧿

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If there’s any Japanese-only manga you want me to check out, let me know! No promises, I’ll only read what I’m interested in, but I’ll take suggestions into consideration. Preferably, shorter manga or newer manga with a few volumes out since I like to take breaks from longer series I’m reading :)

[horizon-verizon]

I hate how GRRM use Nettles’s sexuality to undermine her accomplishments just to shake things up. Here’s a 16 years-old girl who relied on her intelligence instead of a pedigree to tame a dragon and succeeded in becoming a dragonrider, but her taming of Sheepstealer gets prefaced by a statement about how “worse was yet to come with dire consequences for the Seven Kingdoms” to preemptively blame Nettles for Rhaenyra’s own cruelty and Daemon’s subsequent abandonment of her cause (a statement not made any better by talking about how “the power young maidens exert over older men is well-known” when discussing Daemon’s affair with Nettles as if to cast her as a seductress), and that’s when her dragontaming is not getting framed as something she traded sex for as suggested by Gyldayn’s speculation about how she traded sex for the sheep she fed Sheepstealer. He makes sure to treat us to his thoughts on the state of Nettles’ virginity when she began her affair with Daemon while he is at it as well.

Likely responding to this post.

You can take a look at this post and this one for more context.

Answer: GRRM has Gyldayn do all that. Gyldayn is the in-world maester who writes Fire and Blood to be published and stored within the Citadel so the maesters could compile knowledge about the Targaryen dynasty. It is meant to show the consequences of Rhaneyra's paranoia.

How is it that we should look at an invisible character GRRM created to be the book's in-universe writer over GRRM to blame for Nettles when GRRM is the real-life writer of Fire and Blood? Didn't he decide that Nettles should receive said treatment in this story?

Fire and Blood works as a pseudo-frame narrative within the larger world of the main ASoIaF series/narrative and has its own unique unreliable narrator from the main series. An unreliable narrator, is when a/the narrator's credibility is compromised by clear inconsistencies of events, perceptions, and their own biases and/or psychological processes. They are more often found in first-POV or limited third/deep third POV narratives because we are in the actual mind of the protagonist and there is no real 100% unbiased narrator because the fictional character or entity narrating has agendas, desire to lead someone/the reader towards a specific perspective, biases, etc.

That underpins the entire narrative. However, when real-life writer intentionally and consciously uses in-world or a voice that is distinct from their own, they are trying to establish that there is another, overarching entity that tells the story with their own agenda and in-world audience.

GRRM's history book is itself pretty unique for a popular audience. Gyldayn is that unreliable narrator with a kind of "3rd-1st person omniscient POV", where the narrator is a character in the world but is still external from the characters being focused on.

I say "kind of" because the omniscient part of Fire & Blood is really Gyldayn's attempt to be as neutral a histographer or collector of historical accounts as possible while making reasoned conclusions from missing or suggestive but ambiguous material--speculating & trying to solve mysteries. But it is seems 3rd person bc Gyldayn is not a participant in the events and stories he's describing in Fire & Blood--he's writing of times he wasn't even a conception of, writing them either right before or during Robert Baratheon's reign that begun in 283 A.C. He is writing in the perspective of a person who has read multiple accounts of multiple events and generations that have themselves been debated over, parts lost, etc. When Gyrladyn writes of characters/past people's personalities, thoughts, feelings, etc., it's coming from external observations of them, recorded dialogue or other sorts of speech, or their own firsthand recordings (Daemon & Otto's writing in The Rogue Prince).

The book is "unreliably narrated" not in the sense that nothing is "true" (thr main series narrators are actually ALL if not mostly "unreliable!!") not because of this amalgamation, the anecdoters' own biases or agendas, & narrative holes in some places, but because it's written by a man who comes from an institution that upholds sexist, classist, mores AND one that has been in opposition to the Targs & dragonlords since its dynasty's inception. So he should be also scrutinized in how he writes about the Targs, esp towards its women who do not, in some way, conform perfectly to Andal-FM gender performance in its patriarchal, feudalist system.

F&B is not actually that unreliable; like most history books, it includes good research of witnesses and contemporary documents on events.

The maesters are not septons, but they--like every other Westerosi--come from the Faith and the Citadel itself rests in the exact same town that the High Septon (a sort of pope) and the cultural/religious epicenter of the Faith resides: Oldtown. Where the Hightowers are based, have patronized the Citadel, supplied both the Citadel & Faith institutions with their own members for generations (like Ceryse Hightower's uncle, who was the High Septon in Aegon's & Aenys' times), and have gathered for themselves high prestige in Westeros for centuries for being the ones preserving the Faith and with it, whatever counts for "Westerosi values".

The purpose of an unreliable narrator is to:

LINK ...create a lot of grey areas and blur the lines of reality, allowing us to come to our own conclusions. Fallible storytellers can also create tension by keeping readers on their toes — wondering if there’s more under the surface, and reading between the lines to decipher what that is. Unreliable narrators can make for intriguing, complex characters: depending on the narrator’s motivation for clouding the truth, readers may also feel more compelled to keep reading to figure out why the narrator is hiding things.

Fire & Blood is not really this, but to just sohow that there are layer sof narration...

A frame narrative is a story told through layers of other narratives like a Russian nesting doll's structure. One overarching narrator tells a story, say to another character, and we do not get details about them as much as we do about the characters of their story:

The Framing Device is a narrative technique in which a story is surrounded ("framed") by a secondary story, creating a story within a story, often through Separate Scene Storytelling. The inner story is usually the bulk of the work. The framing device places the inside story within a different context. Framing devices typically involve outer story characters as the audience of the inner story, such as a parent reading a bedtime story to a child. Other times, the outer story character is the author of, or a performer in, the inner story. Occasionally, the inner story is a hallucination or delusion experienced by one of the outer story characters. The inner story does not need to be a work of fiction from a frame-story character's point of view: letters, journals, and memoirs can also be used as framing devices, often in the form of Day in the Life.

There is a reason why Gyldayn is compiling all these accounts, secondary or primary, bound or loose, into this one book. That's a story right there.

So there are GRRM -> Gyldayn/all the maesters who wrote about the Targs' and their interactions/decisions -> the Targs and those around them, whose first POVs we do not often get and must inspect since the masters are the ones collecting accounts of their words and dialogue. Some dialogue had been recorded in the then-declarations, some are reported by individuals, and some by many individuals at the scene of the event.

GRRM is rather "telling" us stuff--implying, showing, and not just telling--about how the Targs are perceived not just by the maesters, but by larger Andal-FM Westerosi society at their time as well as after their end. Intermingled in that are perspectives of Targs themselves, but you'd have to investigate and weigh the context of their actions.

If you clicked on the link to the post I made a long time ago about how Gyldayn writes and relates Nettle's character, it's clear that he's looking at her as more a young brown, low-classed slut, or allows that interpretation, to subsume her impressive brave acts to explain why she would in any way be attractive to Daemon. And the thing is that this is exactly how misogynist men who've enjoyed male privilege (there are no female maesters) often interpret a female person's value in various ways to discredit them and the men, but more often the women/girls. Rhaenyra nor Mysaria get away with his misogyny either. Helaena could have had a stronger personality, but along with her own family likely sidelining her unless it has to do with kids, Gyldayn also merely characterizes her as "pleasant", "would-be good mom" and "less attractive than most Targs" as if these were the primary qualities they are looking for from a royal woman/Targ woman. Motherhood, socially undisruptive, and looks.

Side note: And anyone else who visits the Citadel could read one of the copies of Fire and Blood, but I think most copies would be in the Citadel because I haven't found evidence of books in Westeros spread to many regions in mass production and cheaper paper or if they use paper, what it is made of and how expensive it is. Without said evidence, they'd likely paint words manually into books and that takes time, so you're not going to see as many copies as you'd see in real-life Renaissance countries and later eras. (medieval books and illuminated manuscripts, pic below, were also made of animal skin [often sheep], called "vellum". Are most, if not all, books in Westeros made of vellum, or paper, IDK)

[mintyun]

ice skating | k. sunwoo

PAIRING. kim sunwoo x f!reader

GENRE. non-idol!au, childhood friends 2 lovers, fluff, flirting, teasing between friends, ice skating

SUMMARY. y/n gets an invite from her best friend and crush — sunwoo — to the ice rink. will this hangout with him be the same as they usually are? or will things suddenly change between the two?

A/N. idek what im doing guys this is ma first published fanfic and its kinda cringe. i had written this 4 my bff before LOL enjoy.

WC. 1.2k

NOT PROOFREAD

3RD PERSON POV

"sunwoo hurry up! you're taking too long!" y/n groaned, having to wait for her best friend, sunwoo, to finish getting ready. she was already outside the door, jacket in one hand and purse in the other.

"give me a minute!" he yelled back from upstairs. y/n playfully rolled her eyes at his need to always look presentable when going out with her.

a part of her hoped he's always dressing up for her, but who was she kidding? he somehow—intentional or not—always managed to friendzone her, making it obvious it was just a silly one sided attraction.

sunwoos brown tuft of hair peeked from around the corner of the doorway, with him taking his time to walk over to her, grinning. y/n frowned at his attempt to tease her.

"okay pretty boy, let's go while it's still early."

—

after what seemed like hours of driving, the pair arrived at a well known skating rink in their district, deobi ice rink.

since it was quite early in the morning, the rink wasn't as full as it would have been if they had gone in the afternoon.

“angel, i'll get the skates, you're a size 7 right?" the boy asks. y/n nodded in confirmation, before he walked away.

her cheeks burned at the nickname he called her by. despite having known each other for so long, and that nickname being as old as their friendship, her newly found crush on him gave that nickname a different feel.

she walked over to an empty bench and waited for sunwoo to come back with the skates.

y/n couldn't help but stare at the boy talking to the shop owner. his tall complexion made him more appealing to look at.

when they were young, the girl was always taller than him, constantly teasing at him for being shorter, that was until freshman year. it felt like it took only one morning for him to suddenly shoot up to be 5'9.

her thoughts were suddenly cut off when a girl her age suddenly came up to sunwoo, looking nervous. y/n could only assume the girl had interest in him based on her body language. it was now pretty easy to tell considering that it's a common occurrence.

a part of her felt jealousy at the thought that some girl could just go up to sunwoo, her crush, and talk to him while she watched. though knowing that he doesn't show any bit of interest did reassure her feelings quite a bit.

eventually, the girl had walked away looking dejected and sunwoo started making his way back to y/n. although not visible to anyone else, she celebrates yet another girl getting rejected by him in her mind.

"another girl?" y/n questioned, her eyebrows raised.

"what? are you jealous?" he smirked, wanting a reaction out of her.

"in your dreams kim."

"it’s okay, you're better than any of them anyway," he casually says, giving y/n her skates.

her heartbeat quickened at his words. not wanting to create false hope for herself, she tried to push the thought aside, despite it causing her stomach to twist and turn.

"hurry up angel!" sunwoo grins, already making his way over to the ice.

"coming!” y/n sighs.

—

the feel of the ice was something y/n had forgotten. with one foot in front of the other, she starts to slowly glide across the ice, looking at sunwoo smiling at her. she grined back, paying attention to him.

not seeing the person in front of her, she bumped into them and started falling forward.

sunwoos smile dropped as he rushed over to her, trying to catch her in time. fortunately, someone did catch her.  and it wasn't sunwoo.

"are you okay??" an unknown voice spoke. y/n looked up to see an unfamiliar face staring at her with worry.

"yes, im okay. thank you for catching me," she smiles apologetically.

just then, she heard her best friends voice calling out to her, “Y/N!"

y/n looked at him, wondering why he seems so worried. "are you okay?!" sunwoo asked, a concerning tone laced in his voice.

"yeah im alright don't worry," she started, before looking over to the other boy, "um.. whats your name?"

"juyeon," he spoke.

"juyeon caught me, im alright," y/n says, focusing her attention back to sunwoo, standing back up on her own.

looking over to juyeon, she thanks him before walking back to the railing, sunwoo following her and making sure she wouldn't fall again.

"you could've gotten hurt, be careful next time okay?!" sunwoo says, still concerned for her safety. it almost made her think it wasn't some one sided crush.

"it wasn't a big major thing sun, if anything, i'd probably only get a scratch or a bruise, its no big deal," she reassures, "plus why are you so worried anyway?"

"because i like you y/n."

her heart stopped for a second at his very sudden and unexpected confession.

"this wasn't how i wanted to tell you," he mumbled before cringing, "i've liked you since fifth grade dummy, i was just too scared to tell you since i didnt want our friendship to change because of my feelings. i understand if you dont feel the same way, and its completely fine— like, its not a big deal and i get i—"

she cuts him off with a soft peck on the lips, shutting him up. he looks at her with a shocked expression, mouth open.

"i like you too sunwoo," y/n says, looking at him.

it took him a bit to process the information. his brain felt like short circuiting.  after a while though, he smiles at her confession and hugs her, not really sure what happens next.

they stay in that position for a bit before letting go of each other.

"can i be your boyfriend y/n?" sunwoo asks, looking into her eyes.

"only if you can catch me," y/n cheekily smiled, skating away as fast as she can.

sunwoo trails after her, thinking about how lucky he was to have her. someone who knows him the best and has seen through both his good and bad days.

THE END

BONUS

"e-excuse me!" a girl spoke up behind sunwoo, tapping his shoulder.

he turns around to see a short girl around his age with blonde hair, "may i help you?"

"um i was wondering, are you by any chance .. single?" she nervously asked, fidgeting with her hands, "i think you're really cute and was wondering if i could get your number ..?"

he admitted how it was impressive she was able to come up to him and be straightforward about her intentions, not that it was anything new.

with an apologetic look, he looked at her wincing, "im really sorry but i currently do have a girlfriend, she's sitting there on that bench."

the said girlfriend was y/n, who wasn't his girlfriend, though he wished she was.

the girl in front of him looked embarrassed, her ears turning visibly red, "oh im really sorry! i wasnt aware! i hope you treat her well!"

she then scurries off with a dejected look after bowing apologetically to him.

sunwoo subtly smirks, proud that the excuse that y/n was his girlfriend worked. i mean obviously, she was the prettiest girl on the rink. in his eyes, nobody else could compare.

'now i really need to make her my girlfriend' he thought as he made his way back to her.

Please do not copy, translate, or post my work on other platforms.

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Linger - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Reader

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Prompt: taking the receiver’s hand, the sender lifts it to their lips, and gently kisses their knuckles, lingering for a moment before withdrawing.

Word Count: 0.3k (355 words)

(Ah yes, when the fic doesnt show up in the tags so its now your 3rd time publishing it)

Formula 1 Masterlist

Published: 07/07/2022

The grin was unable to leave her face as she arrived back at her driver room.

Her race suit and fireproofs were soaked with the champagne she had been sprayed with, her skin caked in the substance. The aroma was all she could smell, and when laden with sweat, it wasn't the nicest.

She unzipped her race suit and pushed the papaya sleeves off her shoulders, them falling with no resistance. The air-conditioned nature of her room helped her to cool down from the sweltering heat she experienced in the car and outside. Grabbing one of the bottles off the side, she twisted it open and took a few gulps of the cool water.

A brisk knock caused her to screw the lid back on and place the bottle down. She yelled out to the person on the other side only for a mop of curly brown hair to appear as the door was pushed ajar.

Lando stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Proud smiles graced both of their faces as they looked at each other. He stepped forward, bringing his hand up to cup her face.

"I'm so proud of you, love," he said, pressing his lips against hers. The buzzing feeling coursing through his body increased as he leaned into her trying to convey his emotions through it. He loved her so much and knew he would give up everything for her, except racing because she would murder him for it. Pulling away he let out a hmm, his eyes opening and locking with hers.

"That was- nice."

"Nice?" Lando laughed out slightly confused.

"What! How else would you describe it?" she gasped back playfully pushing against his chest.

With a grin on his face, he brought his hand that was resting on her waist to grab at her hand. He lifted it to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles, lingering for a second as he gazed into her eyes.

"I love you," he whispered as if he was afraid the words would get away from him.

She softly smiled back, pure adoration on her face.

"I love you too."

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Assumptions

10/01/2021

Pairing: Manuel Neuer x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 6,018

Warnings: rpf, mentions of age gap (not between reader and Manu and nothing illegal) and strong opinions on that, banter, jealousy, infuriation, fluff and cuteness

Summary: The reader finally catches her long time crush Manuel Neuer alone on her uncle's birthday. Things are quickly starting to get heated—sadly it's not the kind of heated she would have liked it to be.

A/N: Most of you probably don't know Manuel Neuer. He is the goalkeeper and captain of Bayern Munich as well as the German National Football Team and every once in a while I find my thoughts drifting towards that adorable and amazingly talented manchild. This story has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I wasn't sure whether I felt comfortable with publishing it in case it ever got finished. But I found that there is an intolerable lack of Manuel Neuer x reader fics on here, so here it is. I tagged everyone from my general tag list, but I understand if this is not what you signed up for. So sorry in advance and please feel free to ignore this story at your leisure.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

It was only a few minutes to midnight and still the dance floor was as filled as ever, an enchanting mixture of young and old people alike. The bass rolled deep in his stomach, making him even queasier than he already was, and the lights, flickering across the mass of moving bodies in sync to the rhythm of the music, didn’t help either.

Suddenly a figure broke through the outer wall of bodies and made her way over to his table. A small smile crawled over her lips, a little shy but genuine, yet he didn’t feel like returning it. He had hoped that she would change her mind upon the disgruntled look on his face, but much to his dismay, she did nothing of the sort and sat down right next to him, just as a waitress passed the table with a tray of colourful shots. The woman next to him stopped her, before she turned to him.

“Care for a drink?”

Did he care for a drink? He yearned for one.

“No, thanks. I’m not really fond of drinking.”

“Shame,” she shrugged, her smile growing a bit wider when she took two shots from the tray anyway. For a second he thought she might actually force him to drink with her, but then she placed down the two glasses in front of herself. Raising her first glass to him, she gulped it down in one swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards.

“Do you care for a dance then?” She nodded over to the dance floor, her eyes and body inviting him to take the offer.

He found that he somehow couldn’t hold her gaze when he answered, “I’m afraid I’m also not very fond of dancing.”

Her forearms resting on the table, she leaned closer, obviously not taking the hint that he just wanted to be left in peace and quiet.

“Then what are you fond of?”

“I think you know pretty well what I’m fond of.” To his own surprise he sounded even harsher than he had attempted to, but the last thing he needed right now was an eager fan trying to engage him in a conversation.

“I do,” she retorted undeterred, “but that’s not what I wanted to know. See, you might not have noticed through all your sulking, but I was actually interested in you as a person, not as a footballer.”

He huffed, although he wasn’t sure she had heard him above the music.

“And you might have noticed that I am not interested in talking about private stuff to complete strangers.”

Sure, he was being massively impolite, but at least he hoped that this would do the trick now. But instead of finally leaving him alone, she shot him an amused look.

“Ooooh, grumpy, aren’t we?”

Now it was him who leaned in closer, making sure she could hear him properly. “Look, it’s nothing personal, okay? I just...it wasn’t such a great evening for me.”

Unintentionally his eyes wandered over to the dance floor for a split second, where a very young, very blonde girl was dancing happily among his teammates and their wives and girlfriends. Cursing himself, he looked over to the woman by his side carefully, hoping she hadn’t noticed. But of course she had, her eyes still fixed on the girl.

“Ah, I see.” She turned to him and the glint in her eyes made his stomach turn. “Puberty is a bitch, eh?”

“Excuse me?” he spat, equal parts bewildered and stunned.

“You heard me alright.”

Who did she think she was? Impertinent woman.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” The volume of his voice must have slipped his control a little, as he noticed a group of elderly men standing nearby turn into his direction. Still the woman’s smile never left her face, appeasing the men who turned away again.

“Really? After all I have to sit here with a pissed thirty something man who refuses to acknowledge he let his hormones get the best of him.”

“Whoa! Okay, first of all, it was you who decided to come and sit at this table and second, again, none of your goddamn business.”

Her answer was a simple grin, still not fazed by his anger in the slightest. It almost felt as if she was enjoying to get him riled up.

“You’re right.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

He rolled his eyes heavily. Why couldn’t she just leave?

“You know, that phrase usually goes with an apology. Like ‘You’re right. Sorry I assumed you’re having a mid-life crisis and bang a chick that is 15 years your junior to boost your fragile ego.’”

“Do you?”

Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm himself a little. After all, he couldn’t afford to yell at her again, not that he didn’t want to, but causing even more unwanted attention was not in his plans for tonight.

“I didn't say that.”

“Well actually,” she looked at him triumphantly, “you kind of did. I never said you were having a midlife crisis or that you need her to boost your ego. Those were your words. And seeing that my assumptions caused a reaction like that, I’m afraid I can’t really say I’m sorry either.”

All right, that was it. Enough was enough.

“Look, I think I have an assumption for you too, lady. I’m starting to assume that you only came over here to rile me up further. And guess what, mission completed. So why don’t you do us both a favour and head off to pester someone else now?”

She was quiet for a moment and for the first time, the cheeky smile left her beautiful, burgundy lips. He had expected her to be a bit shaken at least, maybe even as pissed as himself, and yet the next words were spoken with such dignity that he couldn’t help but admire her a little for it.

“Oh, I would love to say you’re right again, but I’m afraid I can’t this time. And since we seem to have warmed up to each other quite a bit by now, I feel it’s okay to be completely honest with you.” She paused a second, simply for the effect, he guessed and her warm eyes never left his. “I came to sit with you because you looked miserable. Still do, by the way. And I thought you might need an actual grown up to talk to. But it seems I was wrong. You’re just a pouty manchild, like the rest of them.”

She waved her arm, pointing over at the dancing crowd of his friends and their spouses. His eyes followed her gesture and when he laid eyes on the heart of the matter, a hot flush of rage began to swirl through his veins, making his hands clench into fists. Fully set on giving her a piece of his mind, not caring who might hear him at this point, he turned to her again. But the familiar figure that had somehow entered the picture without his notice made him stop in his tracks.

“Here you are, sweetie.” The man cooed, laying his large hand on her shoulder in a protective gesture. “I almost got the feeling you were hiding from me since I made you promise to dance with me tonight.”

She twisted her slender neck to look up at his gentle face, her attention making him smile sweetly at her.

“You know I’d never do that to you, Uncle Hans, especially not on your birthday. I just thought your no. 1 goalkeeper here was in need of some mature company, but clearly he is perfectly happy with the way things are.”

Bewilderment flickered behind the coach’s gaze as he looked between his niece and one of his best players and Manuel was sure that this might not be the last time they would speak about this matter.

“So then, may I have that dance now, sweetheart?”

“With pleasure.” Manuel watched almost transfixed as she gracefully took her uncle’s hand and stood up. It was only now that he noticed how perfectly her dress showed off her voluptuous curves. He was almost certain that she would leave without another word when once again she proved him wrong. Turning on her heels, she grabbed the remaining shot and gulped it down in one large swig before she looked down at him, almost as regal as a queen.

“Have a pleasant evening, Mister Neuer. I’m sorry I can’t say I enjoyed our conversation more. Oh, and just in case you should ever feel in need to talk to a grown up, don’t call.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She could still feel his piercing look on her back as Hansi led her through the crowd and away from him. They had just begun to dance when the song changed and a much slower tune echoed through the large room. With a smug grin, her uncle pulled her closer, bringing his hand to the small of her back. Cheek to cheek he swayed her to the beat and she could feel that her mind was almost beginning to slow down, when he decided to pick up a conversation.

“Will you tell me what that was all about?”

She bit her lip like a little girl that was about to be scolded. “Do I have to?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibration rumbling against her chest and she could easily imagine the self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I’m certainly not going to force you. It’s just, you know, I always thought you kind of liked him.”

Instantly, she could feel her face heat up. How could he possibly know that?

“True. Liked, as in past tense. And besides, it’s not that I actually know him, personally, I mean. You could perhaps say I admire his talent, at most. And he also may be kind of easy on the eyes.”

She had become more and more quiet while she spoke, merely mumbling the last sentence. But he had heard her nonetheless, her silliness making his lips twitch in amusement.

“Hm. I clearly remember your aunt begging me to invite him over for a barbecue party last summer, telling me that you wouldn’t shut up about his quiet reserve, his amazing performance on the field and his stunning smile. Sadly he didn’t have time.”

She gulped audibly, tensing up a little in his arms, which made him enjoy their little talk even more. “So, what changed your mind?”

“He did,” she said a little too quickly, before she sighed so heavily that her uncle almost regretted bringing this topic up after all. “It’s just, I don’t understand his choice in women. I mean, he could choose literally anyone, so why her? I mean, she clearly doesn’t make him happy.”

“And how do you know that? You have spoken to him for what? Like five minutes?” He turned them around, making her face the gloomy goalie once more, before he went on. “I might be wrong, sweetheart, but I think you’re just jealous.”

Over his shoulder her gaze met Manuel’s for a split second before his eyes shot to his right, where the blonde teenager stepped into the picture, blocking him from view. She sat down on his lap, her arms dragging around his neck possessively, as her lips met his in a feverish kiss. Averting her gaze immediately, her eyes darkened and her heart clenched heavily in her chest.

“If by jealous you mean disenchanted, you’re right.”

Her bitter words made him loosen his grip on her so that he could see her face, and the hurt in her eyes pained him more than he cared for.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, but he really is a good person.”

She scoffed while her incredulous eyes landed on her uncle’s soft, blue orbs. “Well, he certainly hid that pretty well.”

He gave her a tight lipped smile. “I think he’s just lost his way a little at the moment.”

“So you think I’m right then?”

The excited sparkle in her eyes made him regret his honest words a little.

“I didn’t say that.” He protested strongly. In the end it was not for him to judge his players’ private lives. “After all he is a grown man and he can decide for himself.” He could see her face fall again and so he was quick to add, “Nevertheless, I don’t think you’re completely wrong either.”

He was very pleased to see that his words had caused a small smile to crawl back to her pretty lips. He almost felt like a proud father and when she finally leaned back in a bit closer, her forgiving gesture almost made him a bit bold.

“So, uhm, one more question, sweetheart. In the unlikely event that he should after all need a grown woman to talk to, can I give him your number?”

“Certainly not,” she insisted with a steady voice, but when she looked at him, the adorable grin on her face left no doubt that this was the biggest lie she had ever told.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Manuel was furious as he watched her leave towards the dance floor with the coach. How could she dare call him out like that and then leave without giving him the chance to set her straight? His eyes fixed on her, he watched as Flick pulled her closer, his eyes following her uncle’s hand to the small of her back. Being the gentleman he was, his hand had found the only spot on her back that was actually covered by the dark red fabric of her dress. And for a second he imagined what it might actually feel like to let his hand wander upwards until it covered her bare skin. Or maybe he could let it slip down a few inches, until his fingers would grasp the soft flesh of her behind. He had just been able to fully picture the exact feeling of her body pressed up to his when he could feel the man who actually held her in his arms catch his indecent look on his niece’s back. Immediately he sat up straight, averting his gaze, completely missing the amused smile on the other man’s face, and when he turned back to face him, he almost lost it when he found her sparkling eyes instead.

He was still trying to figure out what had happened, when he heard a familiar voice calling him.

“Hey, babe.” The high pitched noise made him flinch and instinctively his eyes shot to his right, just in time to pull his arms away before she slumped down onto his lap clumsily. She laid it on thickly as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I missed you on the dance floor, honey bun. Why don’t you come dance with me?”

And before he even had the chance to answer, her lips crashed down on his mouth almost painfully, her tongue forcing his lips to open. The stench of alcohol filled his mouth and he pushed her drunken form off of him determinedly. Before she even had the chance to protest, he lifted her up and placed her in his chair.

“I don’t think dancing is a good idea in your condition.” She glared at him, but then she seemed to have forgotten what for and her lips turned up into a sheepish smile.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

���Look, why don’t you just stay here and I get you a nice, big glass of water to sober you up a little?”

She began to nod, but then her eyes lost focus und she stared past him at god knows what.

“All right, I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t go anywhere.”

Quickly he made his way over to the counter and ordered a whole bottle of water, when he felt the slap of a hand on his left shoulder.

“Wow, you look even more frustrated than after our knock out at the World Cup in 2018. What happened?”

“Don’t ask.” He sighed as he turned around to face his friend. Manuel hoped that he would accept his wish, but when he saw the apologetic look on Thomas’ face, he instantly knew that he wouldn’t drop the topic.

“Too late. I just did.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, the next words were spoken more to himself than to his teammate.

“Great, just what I need. Another pain in my ass.”

“Another? Who was the first then?” Obviously Thomas had taken no offence and sounded a bit too cheerful for Manuel’s liking.

“She.”

He looked over at the dance floor, where the impertinent woman was just sending her uncle the most beautiful, cheeky grin he had ever seen.

“Who? Y/N?” his friend asked incredulously.

Y/N. So that was her name.

“You know that annoying woman?”

“I do, although I can’t really say she’s annoying. Met her at the coach’s home once. She seemed rather sweet and intelligent to me.”

“She certainly hid that pretty well,” Manuel growled under his breath, earning him a surprised frown from Thomas.

“Are you gonna stand here and stare daggers at her or are you gonna tell me what she did to make you throw a fit?”

“She approached me out of nowhere to tell me that I’m dating a teenager to compensate my inability to commit to a partner on eye level.”

Thomas let his words sink in for a while.

“That doesn’t really sound like her. I mean, what reason would she have to come at you like that? She doesn’t even know you.”

Manuel sighed, thinking about the way she had somehow coaxed the statements from him instead of making them herself.

“Well, she might have phrased it differently,” he admitted meekly. That seemed to spark Thomas’ interest even further and he could feel his expectant look on him, pressing him to finally tell the whole truth.

“Actually she didn’t say it like that. She only made an allusion and made me somehow say those things myself.”

“Mhm. And exactly what allusion did she make?”

Manuel rolled his eyes again, his ego still fighting to repeat her words out loud.

”She said puberty was a bitch, clearly hinting at the fact that she thought my girlfriend was too young for me.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when Thomas’ roaring laughter filled the air.

“Now that does sound more like her.”

He needed a bit to contain himself when he suddenly looked up at Manuel with an unusually serious expression on his face.

“And I have to admit, Manu, she kind of has a fair point there.”

“What?”

Manuel could not believe his ears.

“Come on, man. It’s what everyone thinks. She just said it out loud.”

“Fuck you.”

But instead of rising to his expletive, Thomas just looked at him sympathetically. Pushing himself off of the counter, he pat his shoulder in an attempt to encourage him a little, ready to leave him to his self-denial.

But then he stopped. “You know, I personally didn’t have a problem with it. You’re an adult, you can make your own choices. As long as you’re happy, right? But the truth is, Manu, I don’t think you are. Not anymore.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

“See, I told you he wouldn’t be here. No need for all the panic beforehand.”

She narrowed her eyes at her cousin, shooting her a dirty look.

“Yeah, and I hope it’ll stay that way. Oh, and for the record: I wasn’t panicking at all, it was just you and your sister’s sudden eagerness to lure me here that got me suspicious and nervous in the first place.”

“We didn’t lure you here,” her other cousin piped up a little offendedly. “We simply wanted to spend some time with you. Come on, it’s been what, like 4 months now? Since you moved to Munich three years ago, we hardly get to see you anymore.”

“You and our father,” her sister added quickly. “So it seemed the best option to kill two birds with one stone and bring you along. After all it’s called a family day, right?”

Y/N sighed, not fully convinced, but finally ready to let the topic go.

“Right. Let’s just hope for your sakes that there will be no surprises today that might prove your guilt after all.”

“How are my girls doing?” she heard a familiar voice from behind her back, turning towards her favourite uncle with a beaming smile. What she didn’t see, however, was the brief look that was exchanged between her cousins as soon as she had turned her back, proving exactly what she had suspected all along.

“We’re good, dad. Actually, we’re more than good, we’re excellent,” the older cousin chirped.

“Great.” He paused a moment, but it was clear that he had more to say. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he looked from one woman to the other. “So,” he began carefully, before a huge Cheshire grin spread across his face. “I hope you all reserved a dance for me tonight.”

“Oh, no, daddy, not again.”

“Please, don’t make us do this.”

“There will be dancing here? If you had told me that beforehand, I certainly wouldn’t have come.”

“Of course there will be dancing. I thought that was obvious.” He had to try very hard to look a little slighted, while he actually drew a horrendous amount of amusement from their antics. “Remember, girls, we have a tradition to uphold. Whenever there is some dancing at a party, you have to reserve at least one dance for me. That’s the rule.”

And with that he turned and left them on their own again.

“Ugh, why does he always have to do that to us?” her younger cousin whined.

“Oh stop it, silly. You’re the one who likes it the most and everyone knows.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She had been the first to pay tribute to the family tradition and after a very exhausting Discofox dance session, luckily one of her cousins had taken over from her. Kicking off her heels, she welcomed the feel of the cool grass underneath the soles of her feet. Walking over to one of the empty tables, she slumped down heavily into one of the comfortable looking chairs. With a contented smile she let herself fall back against the backrest, closing her eyes and breathing in the mild air of the warm summer night.

“Care for a drink?”

His voice made her jump, sitting up straight immediately, eyes shooting wide open. And there he was, two shot glasses in his large hands and grinning down at her, obviously very satisfied with the slight scare he had just given her. He looked amazing, the smug bastard, in his casual jeans and white shirt, two buttons undone, topped with a sporty black jacket. She highly doubted that she had ever seen a finer man in her entire life. Luckily that didn’t make her lose her sharp tongue.

“And here I am thinking that you weren’t fond of alcohol. What happened?”

He smiled sheepishly, only one corner of his mouth tugged up, when he handed her her drink. He took his time, grabbing a chair and positioning it opposite hers, then sitting down carefully, not wanting to spill the shot all over his chest. She had already come to think that he was trying to avoid her question after all, when he locked eyes with her and finally began to speak.

“Hm. It’s been a while since I last saw you. A lot of things happened, you know. Maybe it was finally time for me to grow up.”

“Hear, hear.” With a mischievous smile she raised her glass. “To your coming of age, then.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “If you insist.”

His magnificent blue eyes never left hers while they chinked glasses, and a second later she could feel the more than welcome liquid moisturising her suddenly very dry mouth.

With a thud, their glasses landed on the table, both of them chuckling like giddy children when their eyes found each other again and then, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. The world seemed to have zoned out, leaving behind nothing but his aquamarine orbs and the wild smile on his face.

Just gradually, the world seemed to set back in again. There was the monotonous clitter of the crickets, overlaid by the muffled sound of the music that was carried over by a soft breeze, and loudest of all she could hear the beating of her own heart against her chest.

“What else has changed now that you are a proper adult?” she heard herself ask, not having the faintest idea where those words came from and how the hell she managed to deliver them so smoothly when her whole body seemed to have gotten out of control.

He took a quick look over his shoulder, his thumb pointing in the same direction.

“If you mean the dancing, I’m still not very fond of that.” Her face must have fallen a little because he was quick to add, “Except...”

“Except what?”

His eyes landed back on hers and she almost choked on her hitching breath.

“Except I think I could make an exception for the right partner.”

From the corner of her eye she registered a movement between their bodies, but she was hesitant to let her view stray from his captivating appearance. At last it was something in his eyes that looked at her expectantly which finally made her snap out of her trance.

Looking down at his hand sheepishly, it took her a while to fathom that he was actually asking her to dance with him.

Slowly her eyes wandered up to his again, asking a silent question, which he answered with an almost imperceptible rise of his eyebrows. And before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

He had just turned towards the source of the music, when she suddenly held him back.

“No, wait.”

With a puzzled look he did what she asked of him and let her twist him back around.

“Why don’t we just stay here? The music is loud enough anyway.”

A gentle smile curved his lips. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

She nodded softly, her teeth biting down on her lip in excitement.

And before she knew what was happening, she found herself secured against his chest by his firm grip. It felt like being pressed up to a hot furnace which she would usually have appreciated any other time, but on a sweltry night like this and in a place she had wanted to be in for so long, it was pure torture. And as if this wasn’t bad enough already, his strong fingers pressed down on her lower back, threatening to scorch her even through the fabric of her blouse as he pulled her an impossible inch further into him. He was so close now that she could sense the heat radiating off his cheek as well, bringing along a whiff of his enticing scent and she couldn’t help but close her eyes as she inhaled deeply and her head began to spin. It was odd, but her mind was completely blank by now, blank except for one thought and her lips spread into a blissful smile as she repeated it in her head again and again, relishing in the feeling that if either of them moved just the tiniest bit, their cheeks would inevitably touch.

Slowly they moved and despite the unhurried shift of their bodies her heart was beating so violently that she thought it pondered jumping out of her chest to meet his. There was no chance he wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he held her, and when he finally drew away a tad to look at her, she fully expected him to call her out for it.

But he didn’t. Instead his sinfully soft lips curled into a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“You were right.”

“I beg your pardon?”

A cute chuckle escaped his mouth, leaving the corners of his eyes crinkled in the most beautiful display of amusement.

“About what you said at your uncle’s birthday party.”

“Oh.” She had said a lot that evening, words that she had come to regret later and remembering them now set her cheeks on fire. “About what exactly?”

“About everything,” he admitted without hesitation, yet he couldn’t hide the spark of misery that flitted across his sea blue orbs. “Didn’t take me very long after that night to finally see things clearly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was true. Although she knew that she probably sounded like a madwoman after everything she had confronted him with back then, at least the frown on his forehead seemed to confirm that. “I truly am. I really would have liked to see you happy.” Even if it was with that girl.

She was glad she had managed to keep that last bit to herself. She had no idea why she had said that she was sorry in the first place, but judging by the wild smile on his face it must have been the right words after all.

“Well, I certainly am happier now than I was that night.” He shrugged. “So, thank you, I guess.”

She huffed. “For what? Making absolutely inappropriate remarks on your relationship? I shouldn’t have done that. I know that now. So it should be me who is sorry here, don’t you think?”

She could feel his fingertips press into the soft flesh of her back.

“Don’t be. I guess you were exactly what I needed.” It took him a second before he realised what he had just said. “I mean it. It was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes snapped to the left and she was thankful that he couldn’t see the grin that decorated her lips as she watched the treacherous colour creep into his cheeks, spreading all the way to his ears. For a while he didn’t say another word, probably still trying feverishly to figure out a way to take back his slip of the tongue. And when he finally spoke, she wished he hadn’t.

“There is one thing though that I have gone over and over in my mind. But no matter how long I think about it, it just won’t make sense.”

She already knew that she wouldn’t like where this conversation was heading now, but she found herself asking nonetheless.

“And what is that?”

His head turned without a warning as his eyes searched her gaze and for the blink of an eye his lips came so close that she couldn’t say if they had actually brushed along hers or if her needy heart had just imagined their brief touch. He didn’t answer her question right away, his breath blending with her own in the narrow space between their faces and suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore if she had really only dreamed up their fleeting foretaste of a kiss.

“Why did you do it?” Panic rose in her chest. She hadn’t done anything. After all it had been him who had turned his head. But as he went on, she realised that he wasn’t referring to that at all and the suffocating distress eased away bit by bit. “I mean, we didn’t even know each other when you decided to come at me like that.”

Now it was her who had to avert her gaze.

“I think I don’t really want to answer that question.”

“Why not?” His voice was so soft and gentle, making it even harder to answer him.

“Because the truth might be kind of ugly.”

“But the outcome wasn’t, so I think I’ll take that risk.”

Her feet stopped their mechanical movements as a violent shiver ran down her spine. So this would be it then. It would be over before it had really begun. Pity. But at least she would have the memory of these few minutes, of his genuine smile and the way he had held her tight against his chest. With a deep sigh she bid their daydream of a dance goodbye.

“I could tell you now that it was for some noble reason, but at the bottom of it all I think it was nothing more than jealousy that drew me to your table that night. I had been unable to ignore you all evening — ignore her. The way she behaved like a spoiled brat, drinking and losing control, not caring in the least that she not only made a fool out of herself but of you as well. God, I hated her in that moment, for having everything I ever wanted and riding roughshod over it. And when I saw you sitting there, looking so utterly crestfallen, somehow I couldn’t help it.”

An undefinable silence settled between them and the only sound that remained was the beat of the music wafting over from the party that went on behind his back. The faint whisper of the melody seemed to push itself up between them and tear them further apart, exactly as she had expected. And just like the bass, her heartbeat slowed until it died away completely.

It was over and everything she wanted to do was let go of his hand so she could do him the favour of leaving, but to her astonishment he refused to set her free. And rather then releasing her from his grip, he squeezed her hand, briefly and just once, but it was enough for her to find the courage and face him. But instead of finding a frown or a scornful pair of eyes, his blinding smile made her forget to breathe for a moment.

“I had hoped you might say that.” And with that he pulled her into his arms again and continued swaying her to the music as if she had not just revealed her repulsive self to him. Her brain still a step behind, she couldn’t do anything but stare up at him stupidly.

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” And when she shook her head like a petrified imbecile, an amused chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Because even though your behaviour was extremely infuriating, I have to admit that I like you. And asking you out on a date will be so much easier now that I know you like me too.”

With a violent jolt, the useless muscle inside her chest started to beat again, its heavy pounding filling her ears with white noise as the world around her started to spin. Unable to stop the motion, she felt herself leaning in, her nails digging into the undoubtedly expensive fabric of his jacket as she desperately tried to gain control over her unruly body.

“So, will you go out with me?”

It seemed like an eternity until she finally mustered the strength for a mechanical nod. Neither had she noticed in her struggle that he had stopped dancing, nor that the priceless look on her face had made his eyes and heart go soft for her.

“Great. That’s settled then. When are you free?”

It was only when he took a step back, taking his warmth with him as his hand slipped out of hers, that she snapped out of her trance.

“Now.”

“Now? Like right now?”

More like now as in before she could screw everything up again.

“Yes, why not? I know you have a busy schedule, so finding a date when we are both free might be tough. And above that, it is a beautiful summer evening.”

Had all those words really fallen from her mouth right now? Embarrassed about her lack of composure, her hand flew up to her mouth, making him smile again.

“I guess you have a fair point there.” And just like that, his hand was there again, fingers entwining slowly with hers like they had never been meant for anyone else. “All right then, let’s get out of here.”

***

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[yuki-tsunodas]

The Player's Tribune: I will never forget the tears I shed that day

Article published 25 March 2021, originally written by Yuki Tsunoda in Japanese.

I translated the article with help from Google Translate and Naver Translator + my own interpretations of their rubbish translating, so apologies in advance for any mistakes! Anything I had trouble translating will be bolded with a (?) next to it!!

　I think that was the last time I cried in frustration, in regret.

　Four years ago, I was only 16 years old and was a student at Suzuka Circuit Racing School. It was the final selection to join Honda's Driver Development Program. If I pass, I can run in Japanese F4 the following year, but if I failed...I was thinking of quitting racing at that time.

　Now, I'm standing at the entrance of the stage called F1. Looking back, that was the turning point of my life.

　Of course, I didn't know if I would pass that year's trial because there were not only those who had already run in F4 but also some drivers who had come back from overseas.

　However, I've been racing in karts since I was four years old, and I've been doing well. That year, I was the youngest ever podium finisher in my debut race in the Japanese F4 championship, which allowed me to participate in the spot (?) race, and won the Super FJ Japan's first championship. At the selection test, there were good results until the final round of selection, and I was in a position to compete for first and second place overall. So I thought I could afford to make a big mistake in the final selection, and I was confident that I would still be in the top two in the end.

　I am a strong driver. But if you can't get results here or if you can't fascinate the judges with your running, it's already known (?). So I was prepared to give up my racing career if it didn't work. I think there were many other routes to go, such as running in other training programs or non-formal races, but I don't like it when it's not the direction I want to go. I decided to live a different life rather than to do it half-heartedly.

　However, the worst result awaited. At that time, I was very weak mentally and, of all things, it showed in the final round. Even before the race, I found myself tense and stiff. My fingertips were also stiff. I was not my usual self. I started like that, but suddenly I was flying...I had to drive through the pitlane and then rejoin the course. I felt like I was running alone, far away from the previous group. I felt sorry for myself, and I didn't even feel like running anymore. As a result, the points in that race were almost zero, and Tsunoda lost in the final round.

　I was so frustrated that tears welled up naturally on the train home. It was the first time since I started racing in earnest. I was the youngest among the participants, but I was shocked because I was confident that I wouldn't lose, and I couldn't imagine anything even if I tried to think about the future. I still remember clearly that I was so depressed that I didn't even want to see my parents on my way home from the Shinkansen.

　But there was only one faint hope. That was what the then Honda F4 coach said in an interview after the screening.

　"As a training driver for Honda, you will not be able to participate in the race next year, since the Formula 4 Honda has four cars. Maybe I can put you in one of the remaining two cars running as Suzuka Racing School."

　That was because former Formula One driver Satoru Nakajima recommended me. Mr. Nakajima was the principal of the school at that time, and at the time of the final selection, he was watching us run in the final chicane.

　I was given a penalty at the start, and I was racing without emotion, but I was running hard so that I wouldn't regret it. Through the visor, I saw Satoshi Nakajima standing in the final corner. I didn't want to show Mr. Nakajima a careless run. It was a hopeless ranking, but I thought I should not give up until the end and keep running toward the group in front of me. Then the road opened.

　In 2017, Suzuka Racing decided to enter me into F4 instead of making me a training driver. Then, I suddenly ranked 3rd overall in the annual overall ranking, and the following year in 2018, I was selected as a Honda Formula Dream Project driver, and was able to become the champion.

　It's all because I was frustrated at that final selection.

　The most unusual thing is that I think it's mental. Until I had a setback, I had a feeling that I would do well until the end without doing anything. I knew I wasn't good at starting even though I failed in the previous round, and I had time to practice before that, but I didn't. There was something sweet about overconfidence. And at that time, I was afraid of making mistakes, so I didn't know how to grow up.

　After failing the selection, I realized that I was still not perfect and that I had to be faster. I realized that it is important to make a lot of mistakes without fear of making mistakes, and to make new discoveries and grow from there. Therefore, I didn't feel impatient when I didn't get points as I wanted in the early part of the F3 and F2 seasons last year after I went abroad. Rather, there was no hesitation in the process of making a lot of mistakes first and learning a lot from them.

　Takuma Sato, a former Formula One driver, now driving in Indycar, is famous for saying, "No attack, no chance," but I think that's exactly right. If you don't try beyond the limits of any sport, you won't find the future, and if you don't try, you'll stop there. Therefore, even if there are times when I make mistakes or get no results, I don't feel strangely distressed. Even if you make a mistake, it's up to you to take it. Mistakes make me want to investigate the cause. If you think that you can overcome it, you can be faster than if you regret the mistake, and you can always face it positively.

　Now that I can race in F1, I feel grateful to my parents. I've liked to move since I was a child, and I played swimming, soccer, mountain biking, and also, not sports, but piano. Now that I think about it, I feel that my father and mother were letting me do what I was interested in. And the reason why I started driving karts was also influenced by my father. My father liked motorsports and played gym carna himself. One day, at the circuit venue I was taken to, I was allowed to drive a real cart. That was the first time. Actually, I also experienced a pocket bike at that time, but after trying two, I said, "The kart is more fun." I don't really remember at all (lol).

　But there were times I got sick of karts...

　For example, when I was about seven years old. When I was playing a game while waiting at the track, my father told me to "focus more on the race," and my game was taken away, and I felt like, "I don't like it anymore." Then my father became getting tougher and tougher on me to improve me, and he scolded me for many things. To be honest, I didn't really appreciate my father until I was 15, and there was a time when I hated him. 'This is "The Rebellion Period".' I think I was in the middle of it.

　Not only my father but also my mother was strict in terms of academic matters. I was always told to study in case I didn't succeed in motorsports. My junior high school was not a public school (?), so after the race, I would go home on the day, get ready for school, go to school, study, and take the test. To be honest, it was hard and I never liked it, but I continued to study anyway.

　At that time, I couldn't thank my parents, but now I have the opposite feelings. I think I am what I am now thanks to their harshness, scolding, and teaching me a lot of things back then. Thank you so much.

　I didn't expect to be able to get to F1 this quickly. Not only are there few Japanese drivers, but they are also those taking the shorter route compared to foreign drivers.

　When I first went to see F1 at Fuji Speedway at the age of seven, Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso were running. At that time, I wasn't longing for it, but I thought "I wanted to race with drivers like this someday", and those feelings are still the same. Hamilton is already a legend, and it's an honor to run with him, but when I get on the circuit, both Hamilton and Alonso are just drivers. Think of them as enemies.

　It's the same for Max Verstappen, who I think is the fastest and strongest opponent in Formula One, and Pierre Gasly, who's my teammate in Alpha Tauri. I want to know as soon as possible how well I can handle Verstappen and how well I can compete. Gasly was active in Japan's top-category, Super Formula, when I was running in Japanese F4, and I hope I can learn a lot of things from him, but I think he's also my biggest rival that I have to beat someday because we're in the same machine.

　'In the world of F1, "speed" is ultimately required.' No matter how fast you say you are, if you show off your speed, you can make an impact, and if you have speed, you can get back in front in the second half even if you were overtaken or separated from the pack in the beginning of the race. However, it is actually the most difficult to show "speed" in a situation like this. My biggest strength is speed, so in addition to that, I want to learn more of what I lack.

　Come to think of it, at an online conference held this off-season, my goal came out big like, "I'll be a Formula One champion more than seven times, the most ever tied," but that's not what I meant.

　I haven't done a single race in Formula One yet, so I can't say that (bitter smile).

　What I'm thinking about right now is to give the best performance I have in the first race, and to get as many points as possible throughout the season. Just like F2, even if you go up to F1, you will make a lot of mistakes from the beginning to the middle of the season, but I want to learn a lot by making new discoveries there. After saying such a thing at the press conference, there was a question like, "What is Tsunoda's ambition?" So I replied, "Maybe I'll win the championship seven times like Lewis Hamilton?" which became a big headline.To be exact, I really want to concentrate on everything in front of me now, and I hope that my ambition will come true as a result of that accumulated effort.

　What kind of scene will I see in the future? I want to improve my ability and become a race driver representing the F1 world, and I think it will be a different pressure and motivation, so the expectations of the fans may be even higher.

　That's why I want to never forget how I felt when I drove in Formula One for the first time in 2021. I want to cherish the current feelings of a rookie and continue to make mistakes to my heart's content, learn a lot from them, and enjoy them.

　I don't think I'll shed tears like I did four years ago in the final selection. I will never forget the tears I shed that day. But if I were to cry from now on, what kind of tears would I have...?

　I think it's realistic to say when I first win the championship. It's very difficult to get to Formula One, but it's going to be a tough road ahead. It's really hard to win, so if I'm going to shed tears, it's probably not "regretful tears" but "happy tears".

[jedimasterkelly]

Shit happens when you're a woman. A lot of shit. Bad shit. And a lot of the time, you will run into doctors who do not listen to you. Will not care about you, and will not take you seriously.

This story is about the Great Cancer Scare of 2020.

I was 49, and 3 yrs post menopause. I was pleased about that, as it means no more period ever. I could deal with the occasional hot flashes, and the snapping of necks of anyone who dared bother me. Then in May of 2020, after the pandemic fully hit and the University I work at closed and sent all of us to work from home, I got very sick. Not from Covid, thankfully, but something else. I had started bleeding, and it wasn't menstrual blood. It was bright red and HEAVY. I was filling post-natal pads within 2 hours. I called the Women's Clinic where my OB-GYN lived. They couldn't see me until July. WTF! I called my GP, who got me in on an emergency basis, I mean, 3 yrs post-menopausal women don't just spring a leak, you know? My ovarian function had been almost nil for 3 years. He called my OB-GYN and demanded I get seen right away. They made an appointment for 2 weeks later. Keep reading, because it's quite a ride!

Seriously! 2 weeks later!

In the meantime, my GP discovered my thyroid was tanked out, so I was put on Levothyroxine 25mcg. It helped a lot. I started to feel a little bit more human, at least in the brain area. I finally got in to the OB-GYN, and he did a biopsy and trans-vaginal ultrasound. We got the results 2 weeks later and he called me in to go over them. He said I had hyperplasia with atypia. Cells were dividing rapidly, and he was very concerned. He recommended an endometrial ablation, or a full hysterectomy. At 49 he wasn't concerned with me having a sudden maternal urge (I have no kids), so he was fine with either choice. I decided on the hysterectomy, because why not? Endometrium grows back after an ablation, and why bother at my age? Just yank it all and let me get back to my life.

He said he didn't feel safe doing the procedure, since the cells were most likely cancerous and rapidly dividing, so he sent a referral to one of the cancer centers in OKC. I expected a call within a couple of weeks. I mean, really, if I have the early stages of endometrial cancer, they'd call me in immediately, right? Right?

Crickets. Literal crickets for 4 months! I was very concerned, hell, worried I was going to get full blown cancer and these jackasses weren't going to try and help me at all. I called OB-GYN several times during that 4 month period, and was told the cancer center in OKC wasn't returning their calls. I called them numerous times, and could never get a person on the phone.

I was told it was the pandemic. The pandemic was shutting everything down and causing huge backlogs for non-Covid issues to be seen. I told OB-GYN to refer me to the oncologist from Tulsa, who also worked once a month in Stillwater at the SMC Cancer Center. He didn't want to, he wanted me to see the doctor in OKC (who wasn't returning anyone's calls!) I called SMC Cancer Center and asked how soon I could get in with Dr. Thomas. His office called back within 2 hours asking for my chart and biopsy results. I had the Womens Clinic send my information to Dr. Thomas in Tulsa. Within a week, they called and had me on the schedule to see him in Stillwater on his next visit.

This is where the story gets good. And by good, I mean, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Thanks for sticking with me this far.

Got in to see Dr. Thomas. I researched him and learned we have the same Alma Mater. That day, we were both wearing t-shirts from said same Alma Mater. Instant bonding! I also work in Administration at said same Alma Mater, so we spent some time discussing (gossiping) about my department since he had taken classes with a lot of my faculty during his undergrad. Then he got serious and handed me my biopsy report. He told me he was going to assume I wasn't shown this, since I am:

1. A Master's of Science graduate student in Education Leadership - this making me a researcher who knows how to do research, do research, and understand research.

2. Work full time in a Physical Sciences department at a Big 12 University.

3. Edit manuscripts for my Dept. Chair, thus proving I am scientifically literate. You can't edit scientific manuscripts without having a good, solid knowledge of said science. If he's alternating between "adsorb" and "absorb", I have to understand his research in order to correct his manuscript. This is important because his manuscripts have to be peer reviewed before they can be published in a reputable journal.

"Read it to me, out loud," he said.

I started reading from the paper in my professional scientist voice. It didn't take long before I began to falter as I came to the realization I had been lied to.

"Read it again," he said.

This time, I read it with a lot more heat in my voice.

Diagnosis: no hyperplasia with atypia, no abnormal cells detected

Dr. Thomas waited for me to explode. I didn't. I just stared at him in anger and horror. He offered to do another biopsy to make sure, but he suggested I fire my OB-GYN immediately and find someone who actually gives a shit about me.

I was still randomly bleeding, 6-9 weeks at a time, so we agreed on another trans-vaginal ultrasound and biopsy. The attached photo shows he took 3 samples from my uterus. He wanted to be sure.

A little ditty about endometrial biopsies:

They hurt like a motherfucker.

Take 2-3 ibuprofen before you leave the house to go to your procedure.

Relax. It usually only lasts a couple of minutes. The doctor normally takes 1 or 2 samples. Pinch, snip, clip, done.

Not this guy. He wanted to be surely sure.

He went for a 3rd pinch snip clip. My uterus seized up in the most painful spasm I ever had in my life. I almost came off the table. He was seated on a little rolly stool so he shot back away from me before I could connect his head to my foot. He triumphantly held up his little weapon of Uterine Destruction and declared, "Got it!"

"Yeah, you almost got your ass kicked mister," I growled at him.

"It was worth it to get this beauty of a sample."

So, after a biopsy of your uterus, expect some bleeding and cramping. I had severe cramps for 2 days. I was not amused. We're talking laying in bed with a heating pad and ibuprofen every 4 hours kind of cramping.

Got the results back in a couple of weeks. No cancer. No hyperplasia. No abnormal cell growth. He recommended I find a new OB-GYN fast. I decided fuck it, I'm done. I'm never seeing another OB-GYN ever again.

Dr. Thomas said several times he's convinced my issues are endocrinal. I filed that away in the back of my mind.

(if you ever do test positive for cancer and you are in the Tulsa area, I highly recommend Dr. Eric Thomas! Make sure you have a sense of humor with him.)

My GP started pressuring me back in March of 2021 to find a new OB-GYN. The Women's Clinic has several, but they have a fucked up rule you can't switch doctors there. So if you go there, you are stuck with the same doctor and can't move over to his colleague on another floor. I saw my GP again, and asked if he was still best buds with a gynecologist who had his own clinic. He was always full, and not taking new patients, so GP would have to call his buddy to get me in.

Which he did. Buddy-GYN's office called the very next day to schedule me in. He had been sent my chart and was concerned about the long bleeds (6-9 weeks in duration) and why the fuck were they happening after being 3 yrs post-menopause.

I went in for a consult in April of 2021. First thing out of his mouth, "Has anyone ever talked to you before about PCOS?"

I laughed.

I laughed because every GYN I saw over the last 20 years told me I didn't have PCOS, endometriosis, or any sort of hormonal issues. I was just fat, lazy, and a piggy pig pig. I actually had one OB-GYN tell me to go on The Biggest Loser. Fat shamed while sitting there naked on his table after an invasive exam of my female bits. Thanks a lot, asshole.

I told him about that. He informed me he could tell by LOOKING at me I have the classics signs of PCOS. I use an epilator on my crazy man-hairs, so he asked if I was tweezing or waxing. I about fell out of my chair. Nobody ever believed me that I was having to remove crazy thick hairs off my chin and neck all the time. He asked if I ever had ovarian cysts. Affirmative, I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts the first time one exploded back in 1994. He stood there, holding the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"Well, going by your chief complaints, your abdominal circumference, history of bursting cysts, and no period for 3 years, I am saying you have PCOS."

He went on to discuss my need for an appointment with an endocrine specialist, he was convinced my thyroid tanking out sent my ovaries back into production, and now my hormones are all over the place, most likely, and I needed specialized care.

He must have talked to GP, because I soon got a call from the endo clinic to come in.

This post is already long and tedious, but I am happy to say I finally have 3 doctors who listen to me. My new Endo doc tripled my levothyroxine and scheduled a follow up blood test for next month. Buddy-GYN talked me into a pap smear and cervical exam in July as well. He also wants a mammogram, which I begrudgingly need to schedule so he doesn't chew my ass in July when I walk in with no results. GP is working on my other issues (weight, bad fluid retention, etc...). We discovered from a blood test last Friday my iron levels are dangerously low. I am now on a Rx iron supplement. I've always struggled with anemia, but it never occurred to me or GP to check my iron levels. If you're a woman, and you feel like absolute dog shit and your doctor can't figure out why, have your iron and electrolytes tested. It'll probably take about 3-4 weeks for me to see any results from the iron supplement, but I can already see a reduction in fluid retention.

In September, I have an appointment with Dr. Le at Integris in OKC. He's a bariatric surgeon. I have gained so much weight from having PCOS and Hypothyroidism that I need to drop a lot of fat fast. I'm pretty healthy - I don't have the normal problems obese people tend to have. I'm not diabetic, don't have sleep apnea, my cholesterol levels are good. I am what they call "healthy fat" which seems like an oxymoron. However, it will improve my chances of getting approved for a sleeve gastrectomy.

I turned 50 last week, and had to endure 3 decades of no one listening to me. I feel I lost so many years of my life and I can never get them back. I hope this post reaches a lot of younger women having issues. Keep looking for a doctor who will listen to you. It sucks we have to hunt for these unicorns, but they do exist. I finally have a good team who actually cares about me.

You have a right to be listened to! You have a right to be heard!

I was asked: Who are my doctors?

Dr. Daniel Brown D.O. Stillwater Physicians Clinic

Dr. Yasuto Taguchi M.D. Taguchi Women's Clinic

Dr. Wynter Kipgen M.D. Stillwater Diabetes & Endocrinology