Hmm, I've been thinking(Okay so for context, for all my life up to now aka since being born technically, I was raised into a family household that believed in Christianity but mostly leaned towards the Catholicism parts of such since I've heard there are many different types of people of faith with all different names and traditions, customs and cultures of said interest and everything which I think is pretty cool in its own right atleast but anyways- From what I can remember from being apart of my small and average main family system, my mom along with my grandmother from her side of relatives and such, are seemingly the most passionate and active in the church when compared to my dad. My father isn't hateful about such beliefs nor is he even considered an aethetist or agnostic, but he hasn't been following many of the typical "rules" or societal normaly that is considered when being apart of said group. For example, while my mom and grandma go to church every Sunday whenever they can so they can worship our lord and savior of God and his son, Jesus Christ, my dad is often uninterested in traveling to make the literal 5-10 minute journey though he mostly stays inside anyways watching old movies from different foreign countries sooo(No hate to him by the way, if it pleases him then I hope he has fun doing that^^). I'll admit, while I do make attempts to go with my mom, I often find myself unable to due to disinterest, but it's not disinterest in him ofcourse. I would never ad I love him very much and always have, but it feels like even though I do care about our Holy Father and that I haven't directly rejected him, my current daily life atleast as of lately has been feeling like I have currently abandoned him somehow or that I have somehow drifted away from the right path and have become deaf to his word. It honestly makes me very upset since I should be more loyal and honest to him now that I think about it. I used to be such a happy little girl who would pray every day in the morning before school and at every night before bed. I used to go to a private religious catholic school where I would go to church there sometimes too(half of the time it was mandatory on certain days during the hours but still)and even if I didn't understand everything due to my young age, I would quietly sit and listen I'm an attempt to learn more about the holy scriptures and such with my classmates and the other students from different grades/ages. I used to prepare for the moments during one's usual journey, being excited that I would become closer to God by wearing my white dress and getting baptized with other certain selected students(I don't remember what the specific event was called but I remember it being very important to me at the time)and I don't know...I sorta miss it. I miss being so happy and careless of all my anxieties but now I am stuck here...I don't want to stray away from God's love any longer, I don't want my true reality to break away because it makes me afraid of if I somehow commit some sort of unforgivable sin that'll destroy any sense of humanity I have left...(I know that sounds dramatic but please. I am really trying to make a solid attempt at explaining all of this right now so as complex as it may seem, keep in mind that my brain is starting to function again for once in the dying light that is my empty and boring life that while I am still grateful for, has been causing me much hurt and pain in so many ways). Currently I am a 16 year old eurocentric and privileged middle-class white-latino feminine presenting person who is actually a member of the LGBTQIA+ and neurodivergent community too according to doctors/psychiatrists or something(I don't know, that's what my dad has said since my late diagnosis at 12 which is that even late?? It's so confusing at times ughh but that's just how it is I guess haha).

On the internet, specifically here and on the couple of social media platforms that I publicly have, I have used these safe spaces to more accurately and honestly express myself when it comes to my identity not only when it comes to sexuality and gender but also with the intersectionality of my race and ethnicity, my hobbies, interests and talents, my wants and needs and etc. I have said before that I am a privileged and middle-class eurocentric 16 year old white-latino feminine person in real life but actually wants to present as more of who I am being a bisexual(male preference having)aceflux female to male transgender person who to be honest is probably more of a mostly male but still bigender or genderfluid person since I still feel connected to growing up in perceived girlhood but I don't know yet...who does know though at that point???Pfttt...I don't hate my body and I know God made me beautiful in my own way just like all the other unique people he created all through out the history of the planet Earth, but sometimes it can be hard since I think the most queer people see me as is just maybe a bisexual cis girl who might be on the asexual spectrum???I hope I am making some sort of sense with my explanation...somehow so with all that being said, I guess I've had some sort of short epiphany in my brain where I've realized something important for me that I've almost forgotten. I need to actively take steps to come back to God and I know somewhat of how to do it but I would appreciate a little more help from others with more expertise aka experience for those who don't have a big and fancy vocabulary in their inner-mind library haha- I do sincerly apologize if I have caused genuine annoyance for anyone with this post for whatever reason as my normal posts are coming back soon once I get back online but for now, I need to go study and do more research on how I can save myself and others for when he comes again. I know it sounds scary but it's actually wonderful so please don't be scared of him, because he loves us all no matter what and nothing can turn us away from him. Worship him and confess your sins because it's good to be honest and he loves you, after all he knows you best like you know yourself since he created the beautiful building of love and passion got the world that is your soul. It's never to late to choose him and to spread the good word of the gospel<3. Please stay safe and have a good day or night wherever you are and thank you if you've read the entire paragraphs of rambles I've written haha. I really do appreciate your support whether it be here, there or anywhere else!!:)You must keep surviving for you and I, for us and eachother but also for him too...

Also P.S: Hope you guys don't mind but I'm gonna put a nice scenery image here since I like being calmed down and enjoy embracing the beauty of nature, especially when we're lucky enough as humans to photograph the right moments atleast!!Other animals sadly only get to enjoy it in the moment which can be too fast since they're constantly needing to survive actively♡.

Miscellaneous thoughts about Sopranos season 6A

I’m almost done with the whole show, you guys! Crazy! I’m honestly looking forward to it being over so that I can breathe again. This is a selection of the stuff I wrote in my journal this season/half-season (however you want to look at it). This post is RIDICULOUSLY long (about 1700 words) so it’s going under a cut.

Originally I was going to put this point much later in the post but I’ve decided to put it first because it’s the most important: you guys, I adore Jennifer Melfi SO incredibly much and I miss the days where she was actually a main character SO incredibly much. Like don’t get me wrong, the second half of the show has been fantastic so far, but it just cannot compare to the first half for the simple reason that the character who is objectively the best used to be central and now she’s peripheral. Even if her role HAD to decrease a little bit, I wish it hadn’t decreased so much. But I’m grateful for every single second that she’s on my screen. She is literally one of THE characters ever.

The montage at the beginning of 6x01 “Members Only” was SO cool! I love a good montage, and the beginning of a season after a substantial time jump is the perfect place to put one.

In 6x02 “Join the Club,” when AJ made his oath of revenge against Junior, I wrote in my journal, “Bad idea, AJ! That could be the start of a Michael Corleone arc!” Then in 6x08 “Johnny Cakes,” we learn that AJ was consciously emulating Michael! I’m SO proud of myself for picking up on that parallel before the show spelled it out. AJ has internalized the values of the life his parents tried so hard to steer him away from, which isn’t surprising. I mean, it’s really telling that in 6x11 “Cold Stones,” Tony characterizes AJ’s problem not as a lack of responsibility or integrity but as a lack of “balls.” Tony doesn’t want his son to be a criminal like he is, but he’s never managed to dig deeper and challenge the ultra-masculine values that his entire life is founded on. 

Speaking of not thinking deeply about the values one holds, something none of these characters are particularly good at: Paulie’s fury toward Nucci in 6x04 “The Fleshy Part of the Thigh” is just the flip-side of his prior fanatical devotion, which was clearly based less on who she was and more on what she was. It was in large part a formality: not actually reciprocating all she did for him, just blindly following the rules. I say “in large part” because, thank goodness, in 6x09 “The Ride” he finally relents. Heartwarming! Man Sits In Silence On Couch With Elderly Adoptive Mother. (I’m going to go ahead and give Tony some credit for that: I think the lecture he gave Paulie in 6x04 sank in eventually.)

At last Carmela (with Melfi’s help—btw, it was SO great to see another one-on-one session between them!) has articulated the thing I’ve been thinking since at least the second season: she and Tony can claim all they want that they have their kids’ best interests at heart, but the fact is that Meadow and AJ were put into an impossible bind simply by being born.

It’s so funny how these guys (mobsters/mafiosos/wiseguys/whatever the best term is—I’m just gonna stick with “guys”) will tear into each other one moment, but then defend each other in the presence of outsiders. When Johnny cries at the wedding, Phil says that his “estimation of John Sacrimoni as a man just fucking plummeted,” but a moment later, when a random guest comments on what a sad display it was, Phil goes “he’s an emotional man 😔he loves his daughter 🥹.” Then in 6x10 “Moe ‘n’ Joe,” Tony tells Silvio he hopes Johnny dies in prison and Silvio fantasizes about throwing acid on Johnny, but a moment later when Sal Vitro refers to Johnny as “guilty,” Tony and Silvio are both like HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT HIM 😠

This outward-facing ride-or-die stance is precisely the arrangement that Johnny violates in “Moe ‘n’ Joe” by putting family over Family. Putting aside his career and just focusing on the choice in isolation, there is a kind of nobility in his decision to take the plea deal that will let his family keep more of their money, knowing that his former colleagues will see no nobility in it and from that moment on he’ll be dead to them. Just another example of how the world these guys live in actively discourages having a heart. (Side note, Johnny is one of my favorite characters and I don’t even really know why. I get so excited every time he’s on screen. I’m always like YES IT’S THIS GUY! IT’S MY MAN!)

At the wedding, Tony is the only one of the guys to express sympathy for Johnny: just as he was (IIRC—it was a long time ago) the only one who we know for a fact was haunted by Pussy’s death (EDIT: he's not the only one, but my main point stands), just as he was the only one who mourned Tracee as a human being, just as in the next episode he will display a teensy bit of compassion for Vito when most of the guys don’t. If we didn’t get these little glimpses of a heart in Tony, if he was just rotten through-and-through, he wouldn’t be nearly as interesting a protagonist. Instead, he’s only like 99% rotten and that 1% is where the tragedy comes in. I want to say I could fix him, but that would be putting myself above Melfi, and I can’t bring myself to do that. If she can’t do it, no one can—except Tony himself, and he’s not going to. Alas.

Meadow is so frustrating because she is the one Soprano who is actually making the world a better place, but then she goes and confirms the rumor about Vito with no hesitation or qualms. Wtf queen??? Did she not care about the consequences for Vito, or did she just not think about them in the first place? I suspect it’s the latter, given that when Finn points out that Vito will probably face violence now, she doesn’t have a counterargument, but in that case...why didn’t she think about the consequences? I don’t get her. It’s so frustrating because Meadow is right about a lot of things, but like Tony, when she’s challenged to confront her own mistakes and blind spots, she just lashes out. Anyway I’m thinking of being her for Halloween next year.

It’s nice that Angie is friends with the other ladies again, but how did that happen? Even Rosalie is nice to her now, and it was Rosalie who told Adriana last season that Angie’s “not welcome here” anymore.

I’m enjoying the Cleaver stuff so much.

It’s so funny at the beginning of “Johnny Cakes,” when, having learned that it’s not going to be feasible to extort the manager of the new cafe, Patsy laments, “It’s over for the little guy.” Like he’s not WRONG but what a funny reaction to not being able to do the crimes you used to do. I don’t think you’re really the victim here, king.

You can certainly make the case that Melfi should have given up on Tony by now, but I truly find it so endearing how she continues to see potential in him, and how she’s always so proud of him whenever he does anything right. Like in 6x12 “Kaisha” when Tony recounts Christopher’s confession that he’s seeing Julianna, she’s like “omg and you DIDN’T get violent with him? Amazing job!!!” God I adore her so much I can’t even take it. 

Phil keeps claiming that he has a stake in what happens to Vito because Marie Spatafore (hi, sister of the actress who plays my favorite character!!!) is his cousin. That makes it sounds like he cares about her. But he does exactly what she DOESN’T want and murders her husband, because he doesn’t care about her, he cares about his own pride, to which she’s just an accessory. It’s what I was talking about in this post I made about 4x04 “The Weight”: when a woman is wronged, the men close to her take that as a cause for revenge regardless of the woman’s wishes. Except the men I was talking about in that post genuinely love the women they want to avenge; they just express that love in a self-centered and unhelpful way. Phil, in contrast, embodies the most extreme form of that sort of paternalistic vengefulness. He knows Marie doesn’t want Vito dead; he doesn’t care. He knows what he wants to do would actively hurt the woman he claims to be doing it for; he does it anyway. Not very nice, Phil!

After making up his mind that Vito has to die, Tony angrily says, “It’s Vito’s own fault. Why couldn’t he stay where he was?” To which Silvio says, “Don’t beat yourself up about this.” Silvio sees right through Tony’s bluster; he knows it’s a defense mechanism against guilt. That’s another thing Silvio has in common with Melfi, who can also see right through Tony’s posturing. For example, in that same episode, when Tony is complaining about AJ and wishing Carmela hadn’t prevented him from using his father’s harsh parenting techniques, Melfi cuts right through the lies that he tells himself: he claims to believe that his father had the right idea, but she points out that really, he wishes Livia had protected him from Johnny the way Carmela protects AJ. (Side note, I’ve drafted a post about Silvio and Melfi as complementary consiglieri to Tony. Will probably post it at some point.)

I love overarching character parallels AND I also love single-episode character parallels. Parallel between Vito and Tony in “Moe ‘n’ Joe”: both try to adjust to a new status quo (for Vito, a quiet life with a boyfriend and a boring but legitimate job; for Tony, a wife with a career) but both give up, screwing over other people in the process (for Vito, Jim and the guy he killed on the way back to NJ; for Tony, Carmela).

Christopher to Julianna in 6x12 “Kaisha”: “It’s just weird being where [Tony]’s been.” Tony to Valentina in 4x08: “I don't want to be where Ralph Cifaretto has been.” You guys are so cringe.

Even though Carmela can finally work on her spec house again (yay!), I hope she doesn’t forget about Adriana.

I love how Carmine talks. He talks like he’s composing a business email.

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Saturday, 07/02/2022 part two

Journaling is supposed to help my recoveries, so here we go.

I learned about this today:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethyl_Corporation

I also changed my wallpaper and lockscreen tonight.

Let's read my favorite book.

"It's one of my theories that when people give you advice, they're really just talking to themselves in the past." — Austin Kleon

This blog is me giving advice to myself in the future.

"Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But, since no one was listening, everything must be said again." — André Gide (жид)

"You don't get to pick your family, but you can pick the music you listen to and you can pick the books you read and you can pick the movies you see. You are, in fact, a mashup of what you choose to let into your life." — Austin Kleon

"We are shaped and fashioned by what we love." — Goethe

"Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your. imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work will be authentic." — Jim Jarmusch

"Chew on one thinker--writer, artist, activist, role model-you really love. Study everything there is to know about that thinker. Then find three people that thinker loved, and find out everything about them. Repeat this as many times as you can. Climb up the tree as far as you can go. Once you build your tree, it's time to start your own branch." — Austin Kleon

"Whether you're in school or not, it's always your job to get yourself an education." — Austin Kleon

"It's not the book you start with, it's the book that book leads you to... Collect books, even if you don't plan on reading them right away. Nothing is more important than an unread library." — Austin Kleon

"Carry a notebook and a pen with you wherever you go. Get used to pulling it out and jotting down your thoughts and observations. Copy your favorite passages out of books. Record overheard conversations. Doodle when you're on the phone." — Austin Kleon

I've wanted to do this for years and never knew how to start. How does one bring a notebook wherever they go? How does one find the time in the moment to stop and record? Sure, it can be messy and it doesn't have to be in-depth, but most of my inspiration and things I long to record occur while I'm at work. Who stops on the job to write things down? How does one gain that freedom?

"Keep a swipe file. It's just what it sounds like—a file to keep track of the stuff you've swiped from others... See something worth stealing? Put it in the swipe file. Need a little inspiration? Open up the swipe file. Newspaper reporters call this a "morgue file"- I like that name even better. Your morgue file is where you keep the dead things that you'll later reanimate in your work." — Austin Kleon

"Do you ever have moments of imposter syndrome?" "I almost asked what you think of 'fake it 'til you make it,' but I thought this was more intriguing."

"In the beginning, we learn by pretending to be our heroes. We learn by copying... Who to copy is easy. You copy your heroes—the people you love, the people you're inspired by, the people you want to be... What to copy is a little bit trickier. Don't just steal the style, steal the thinking behind the style. You don't want to look like your heroes, you want to see like your heroes." — Austin Kleon

I've unintentionally adopted this habit in my life.

"Bradford Cox, a member of the band Deerhunter, says that... he had to wait until the official release day to hear his favorite band's new album. He had a game he would play: He would sit down and record a "fake" version of what he wanted the new album to sound like. Then, when the album came out, he would compare the songs he'd written with the songs on the real album." — Austin Kleon

"Just watch someone at their computer. They're so still, so immobile... We need to move, to feel like we're making something with our bodies, not just our heads... You need to find a way to bring your body into your work... if we strum a guitar, or shuffle sticky notes around a conference table, or start kneading clay, the motion kickstarts our brain into thinking." — Austin Kleon

"I have stared long enough at the glowing flat rectangles of computer screens. Let us give more time for doing things in the real world... plant a plant, walk the dogs, read a real book, go to the opera." — Edward Tufte

"When I was making the poems, it didn't feel like work. It felt like play." — Austin Kleon

Never work a day in your life. Find something that fulfills you. Insert your meraki into it. Indulge your passions and show the world what you're made of, and show them what makes you.

"Stand up while you're working. Pin things on the walls and look for patterns. Spread things around your space and sort through them." — Austin Kleon

"The work you do while you procrastinate is probably the work you should be doing for the rest of your life." — Jessica Hische

"'When I get busy, I get stupid.' Ain't that the truth. Creative people need time to just sit around and do nothing... Take a really long walk. Stare at a spot on the wall for as long as you can... Take time to mess around. Get lost. Wander. You never know where it's going to lead you." — Austin Kleon

"When you love different things, you spend time with them." — ? Tomlinson

"The thing is, you can cut off a couple passions and only focus on one, but after a while, you'll start to feel phantom limb pain. I spent my teenage years obsessed with songwriting and playing in bands, but then I decided I needed to focus on just writing, so I spent half a decade hardly playing any music at all... I started playing in a band again. Now, I'm starting to feel whole." — Austin Kleon

"You're very good at recalling lyrics, stories, anecdotes, and quotes, and I, for one, really enjoy hearing them."

I'm at 83% sleep now. Goodnight

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

Hello my lovelies!! Part 3 sees a whole lot Amelia's beautiful brain & you get your first slice of interaction with the british boys - leading up to an all important Mykonos adventure (part 4 - out friday). As usual, please let me know your thoughts and feelings, and let me know what you want to see happen with Amelia and her story! Updates have increased to 3/week! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 3. | parte terza

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 2081

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 30/07 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

It was the day after the final match and Amelia should be nursing a hangover due to the large amount of red wine she consumed with her Italian counterparts the night before. However, she finds herself at St. George’s Park before 9am, meeting one of her father’s colleagues who directs her to the recreation room that she remembers from a few days prior.

Standing outside the door, she assumed she was just waiting for her dad as agreed on the phone an hour earlier. As she was waiting, she could hear Gareth Southgate give a team talk to the players, praising them for their ability and pleading for them to bounce back from this defeat and use it to push on. The next voice she could hear was that of her father, giving them the tactical run through of the game. She listened to the points her father made, and both agreed and disagreed with some. Unexpectedly, the man sent to collect her opened the door and ushered her inside.

She stood at the back of the room, facing her dad and Gareth, whilst the team and other management staff had their backs to her. Making eye contact with her dad, he smiled slightly.

“Whilst I can offer you my opinion on the match last night, to better prepare you for the next time, there is no better opinion to learn from at this moment than that of your opponent. Amelia, would you please come up here” Dean really threw her into this situation, that again, she was not prepared for nor did she want to participate in. However, the 30+ sets of eyes that had currently turned around to stare at her didn’t exactly inspire a choice to be made here.

_____________________________________________________________

“Lads, this is my daughter. I taught her everything she knows, which was probably too much considering I can now recognise that it was her signature plays that the italian side used to their advantage last night. Treat her with respect, or I will let her at you. Which i’m sure you all saw a few nights ago in this very room” My dad spoke as I walked up to the front area, weaving in and around beanbags with players occupying them.

Standing in front of the Three Lions was more nerve wracking now than it had been when she was confronting her brother, maybe Fede did offer her protection as his bodyguard. Either way, she put her big girl pants on (figuratively speaking, literally she was wearing her official puma tights and Italian polo) and got on with it as if she was speaking to her team.

“Thanks Dad. Hey guys, I think the first thing I would like to say is that you’re allowed to feel exactly how you feel right now. There is no rush to ‘get over it’ or ‘push on and learn’. You need to feel this now, feel it throughout your body, understand the pain and then turn it into motivation.” I speak to the group, trying to accurately express how sincere I am to this group of heartbroken men.

“As for tactics, I can stand here and praise you for how good you really are but that's not how you are going to learn. You came into the game hard and fast.” I paused, understanding the innuendo just as it was flying out of my mouth. I pursed my lips and tried to hold my giggle in, however some of the boys seem to have the same sense of humour as I do. My brother, face of steel and eyes that burn into any man that tries to joke with me.

“Sorry, can’t help myself. So yeah, you took charge of the game from kick off and we were not ready. You had the aggression and desire to push from the start and that's what you did, Shaw, you really surprised me with that goal. Not because I didn't think you could do it but because I wasn’t anticipating you being someone we had to watch so closely.”

“Again, something you guys need to keep in mind is that it is literally my job to know everything about you and how you play the game, what foot you prefer, who you pass to, how long you hold the ball before you pass, do you like to assist or score...all of these things make a massive difference in each play we make.”

“The error you made came around the 25th minute of the game, we had settled into the game and did what we do best - we slowed you down. In Italy, in the Serie A, which is where most of my team play, the game is a lot slower. There is more skill and tactic used to ensure a favourable outcome. Again, i'm not saying you all don’t have skill, but the Prem favours pace over tactics and strategy. The only way we were going to be able to win was by making you play our game, but in your half of the pitch.”

At this point, all of their eyes are trained to me and the more senior players of the team, like Henderson, Walker, Coady, Kane, they understand what i’m trying to say. Gareth, my dad and other members of staff are sitting to one side, arms folded and a slight smile on their face at the simplicity of my approach to such an important game. I direct my next question to them.

“Can I ask - have you already selected your man of the match?”

“Off record, yes we have. Before I announce to the team who it is, can I direct the question back to you and find out who you would award it to?” Gareth poses back to me, interested to hear my opinion.

“While the obvious choices would be Kane, Sterling, Maguire - your players who perform week in week out and are consistent and no doubt deserve an award as such. I would recommend Declan Rice. Personally, he was the most instrumental in the match last night. Every time we turned to attack, he was there to stop it. He was a player I was confident that I knew the extent of his ability, when it was obvious that I didn't.”

The boys around him, Mason Mount & Ben Chilwell, offered him a gentle shove and ruffle of the hair, to show their encouragement to the bashful boy who seemed surprised at the praise he was receiving.

“The other player that I think deserves a bit of a shoutout, and not because of his hair, is Jack Grealish.” I spoke, looking around the room until we locked eyes. I wanted him to understand how serious i was about my next words.

“You are so dangerous on the ball, you are an asset as a team mate, you aren’t guilty with the ball, but you have the power behind you to score when the opportunity presents itself. The moment you were subbed on I pulled Jorginho to the side and told him to treat you like Chiellini and Bonnucci were handling Sterling and Kane. You were one of my players to watch, and for good reason”

At the end of the little session, I said thanks to the boys for listening and that I hope to see them again in a tournament. The only way to be the best is to beat the best. After a quick round of applause that made me feel more special than I am, I walked past my brother, gave him a quick ruffle of his hair and met my dad at the back. Gareth dismissed the boys and they all stood up, breaking away and grabbing some breakfast that was set up to the side of the room, for one last team meal.

“Mills!! I’ll get you an almond croissant and a coffee, come sit with me!” Walker shouted from across the room.

“Oi mate, she’s my sister not yours” Ben counters from the back of the line.

“Yeah she's your sister by blood, mine by choice.” Kyle firmly states and begins his way to one of the tables.

“I suppose i better join Kyle before he drowns everyone in his tears” i joked with the england officials i was standing with before walking over to Kyle and a few of his team mates.

“Sooo am I supposed to pretend I don’t know who you all are so you can introduce yourselves? Or do we just mutually agree that I know too much about each of you and not bring it up?” I question the boys, jokingly. They all laugh and I sit down in the space Kyle left between himself and John Stones. I sat there and got to know some of the boys on a less competitive level, working out who was a leader both on the pitch and off it. After listening to the boys joke around and just be mates, rather than teammates, I leaned over to Kyle.

“Hey, before I go, do you think you can introduce me to Bukayo? I want to speak with him for a moment.”

“Yeah sure, I'll take you over there. Why are you nervous? You've never been shy before” Kyle questioned back at me.

“I’m not nervous, I'm just hyper aware of the sensitivity of the moment. Last night would have been tough”

Saying goodbye to the boys, Kyle directed me over to a table that was sitting my brother Ben White, Kalvin, Ben Chilwell, Grealish, Saka, Sancho & Rashford.

“Hey boys, Ben, I just wanted to come say goodbye before I head off.” I directed towards my brother. He pulled up a chair and asked me to sit for 5 more minutes, claiming he deserved it after months of no contact.

“Ben here didn’t let us know he had a sister as smart as you...what happened to you Ben? Did you miss that gene?” Jack Grealish poked at my brother. With his signature scowl on his face, Ben White let his mates laugh at his expense.

“Oh don’t make fun of my brother Benny, that’s my job!” I joked back, setting the boys off again with my brother’s childhood nickname. It was nice to hear some laughter again from a side that looked so solemn the night before.

“No in all seriousness boys, I especially came over because I wanted to talk to you Bukayo - what you did was so impressive. In a final, as the last penalty taker, to take on the responsibility of the nation at the age of 19! Not many players would dare to do that. You have earned a lot of respect, particularly from the Italian camp.” I spoke with a smile on my face, directed at the young boy.

“The same goes for you two” Now looking at Sancho & Rashford.

Bukayo looked down at his hands & smiled, before getting up and walking to my side of the table. Anticipating what he was going to do next, I stood up and welcomed him with open arms. Grateful that he understood my message and was beginning to accept the praise he so deserved. Stepping back from the hug, I turned to address the group of lads one more time.

“If any of you fancy a change of pace and want to come over to the Serie A, just give me a call - Benny can give you my number!” I start to speak, before I'm cut off but my brother.

“Stop poaching my mates! I’ve already lost you to another country. I don't need to lose anyone else” He jokingly says while standing to walk me out of St. George’s Park. I know it was a joke but I can't help but think there was some truth to that.

It had been more than 3 years since I moved out of our family home to start my life in Turin, and not one moment had i regretted it or thought i made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I wished I was closer to my family, but I know I had to make that move to prove to myself I am just as successful as I hoped I would be. Not saying I have learnt everything there is to learn with the Serie A giants, Juventus, but maybe it's time for a new challenge? Maybe I can bring the strategic spin on the game to the fast paced action of the premier league?

Part 4. | quarta parte

More Bat adora and her papa please, just to tied us over while you are making the story.

@thehumminbrawler So this actually inspired me to write a like ficlet oneshot. ^^; May be out-of-continuity with the mainline AU, but was neat to put it down and I kinda just needed to put it down due to some stuff going IRL right now, I'm like coping with fandom even more right now.

Notes: While spacebat!Adora was a baby, Shadow Weaver tried to kidnap her and take over the Etherian Horde. Hordak managed to protect Adora, escaping with her and Imp as well as those that remained loyal to him/didn't want to follow SW, while SW took over the Fright Zone and created the Shadow Horde. Hordak and co.--pretty much now the Renegade Horde--fled to the Crimson Waste, and their presence started to stabilize the region. The Renegade Horde fights more with the Shadow Horde now, and tries to negotiate for allies more. The Renegade Horde has an ongoing and tense negotiation effort with the Royal Alliance against the Shadow Horde. The Valley refers to the Valley of the Lost, still a major settlement in the Crimson Waste and now more of a bustling center of commerce and community. Just quickly named Dryl Baker "Bekka." Due to Hordak's background of being surrounded by brothers as his own family and society, he perceives Adora and Imp as his younger siblings, but after Later Events he'll start exploring the terms of 'parent-child' and may think that fits their relationship better. (It's an AU Prime in this though the differences don't really come into play here.) There is a little Entrapdak.

Fic under the cut:

following his brothers while sneaking glances out the window at all the stars

all four eyes bearing down on him and pinning him in place

futilely holding a dying brother's hand on the battlefield

"--well I'm very happy you've got it all figured out, Imp." Hordak's ears twitched at his younger sister's grumbling, making his heart slow down. He clung to the sound of her voice, a refuge from nightmares and poor memories even if she obviously sounded irritated, though with an edge of self-reproach. The elder clone began to gingerly sit up, monitoring himself while slipping off the blanket. What could his younger siblings be squabbling over? What could be troubling Adora? How long had he slept?

Fortunately Hordak hadn't fainted, but he had felt weaker, tired earlier--enough so that Adora and Imp caught him and made him lie down and rest. As they had gotten older, his younger siblings had a habit of ganging up on him when they put their mind to it, and their teamwork always proved to be formidable. But Hordak had planned to search for some materials down in the Valley today, and he still saw no reason why he couldn't do so. He felt groggy, but also like some of his energy had been replenished. Adora's reasoning and Imp's insistence that he should rest had been sound.

Imp gave a warning screech, clearly spotting him, and Adora was immediately at his side. Though still...wobbly, irritation didn't flash through Hordak (he was getting better at accepting help from those he cared about). Instead, a fond smile slipped onto his face at his sister's presence. But when he caught her eye, his smile faltered slightly. They were blue and alive with concern--but he again stumbled on the dark slit pupils she had been blessed to inherit from their oldest brother and genetic template. Blessed. She had been blessed...it was his own weakness and cowardice that made him unsettled sometimes. But these were rare flashes for the differences always asserted themselves--Adora's eyes were a bright blue just like her fangs, and more significantly they were always warm and open, she had not the necessary detachment of Horde Prime. (And yet it had been a long time since Hordak had talked about Horde Prime with either Adora or Imp.)

Hordak felt his own self-reproach cloud his mind when Adora frowned, but felt it retreat when she only said that maybe he should lie back down, and asked how he felt. She apparently hadn't realized Hordak foolishly misdirected fear toward her eyes and the unintended offense. Adora had thought his faltering smile and proverbial wince was due to his physical weakness, not his mental one. The elder clone took a breath and shook his head. "I'm fine, Sister. I've rested enough--" Adora glared, and her ears gave a warning flick. "You shouldn't go to town today--" Hordak opened his mouth, then his eyes landed on a tray of tiny soup mugs. He decided to switch tactics. Sometimes it was necessary in the face of Adora's determination. "Entrapta made soup?" It wasn't really a question, and he reached out a talon for a mug. Though he hadn't seen her before Adora and Imp had convinced him to rest, he assumed his partner must've come while he slept, made something for when he awoke, then took her leave. They were all busy with impending negotiations and the...local customs that were apparently necessary. (He still didn't understand "parties," while Adora tackled them with dedication, almost always open to finding the value in anything.) Imp passed him a mug, and Adora absently nodded. "Yeah, she came while you were out and whipped them up." Then she shook her head, re-focusing. "She said--"

"--tell Hordak to feel better and sorry I couldn't stay, Cobalt needed some time-sensitive wrangling with the delegation from Thaymor--but I'll be back later tonight!" Entrapta's recording filtered out once Imp opened his mouth. Hordak smiled at her bright voice. Adora laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Right, that. Thanks Imp." She slid the tray of soup closer to Hordak, where it had been placed on a small table next to his bed. "You like it? Entrapta said she tried something different, added a new herb or something that Bekka told her about," his sister remarked, and Hordak nodded around a sip. Then Adora's ears snapped down, nearly horizontal, and her eyes narrowed. "Eating your soup doesn't mean you should go out right now." "I'll have been fed and rested," Hordak pointed out after finishing his second mug. Adora's ears pricked up to their usual stance, and her eyes were no longer narrowed. "Hordak, I can just go into town for you--" His sister was apparently trying to change tactics too. The elder clone shook his head. "I am looking through updated inventory, not picking up something I know they already have." He downed another mug of soup. "If you just described what you're looking for--" "It's not that simple, it's..." Hordak shook his head. "It would be easier if I did it myself." "...You're just browsing, aren't you?" Hordak nodded, realizing Adora had articulated what he meant. "Yes, that." His sister blew out a frustrated breath, her ears giving an irritated flick. But she still didn't look convinced. "You can always accompany me to the Valley," Hordak finally said after he emptied another mug. Usually Adora loved exploring the merchants' wares in the Valley markets; it was what he had come to learn was called a "hobby." "My formal dress got wrecked when the Shadow Horde tried to kidnap Prince Peekablue." Adora's disappointed voice crackled out as Imp played the recording, while the present Adora's ears pricked up in surprise. "We can look for something new for you in town," Hordak added, seizing on Imp's opening. Adora's eyes darted between her brothers, frowning. Imp looked smug and far too satisfied, while Hordak tried not to grin at his younger brother's demeanor. Hordak and Imp could form their own effective team as well. Adora shook her head, but hesitantly. "That's fine, there's still time before the talks and the delegates' ball, I can go when you're feeling better--" "I feel better now," Hordak insisted. Imp chittered cajolingly as he climbed up on his shoulder, but Adora favored her fellow hybrid brother with a glare. "Backstabber," she grumbled at Imp, who just chirped teasingly. Then their sister rolled her eyes. "Fiiiine." Imp theatrically scrunched up his face in faux disgust, then played back a recording of one of Princess Mermista's signature groans. "Woah no, I'm not--don't even joke about that--" Adora snapped with wide, alarmed eyes while Imp snickered and Hordak slid a hand over his growing smile. ___ Since the fracture of the Etherian Horde and their exile into the Crimson Waste, the desert region had been changing with the influx of now branded Renegade Horde members who rejected Shadow Weaver's command. The place had become more stable, and in that stability it had found a new profitability in more consistent commerce. After examining scrap yards and mechanics for new goods and finding some promising materials that went straight into Adora's shopping pack--she refused to let Hordak carry anything, and Hordak refrained from resisting as long as she agreed to let him carry whatever new dress she picked--they went to the merchants selling various garments and accessories. Adora tried to efficiently and quickly select something, and while Hordak could see her reasoning, he instead told her that she could spend more time looking. "You normally enjoy the markets," he pointed out to her. Hordak still had mixed feelings on the place, which was especially dependent on how tolerable the crowds were. But he felt satisfied when he found particularly useful tools or supplies there; he enjoyed it more when he hunted for supplies with Entrapta and shared conversation with her; it brightened his mood when he watched Adora bounce happily between the stalls and eagerly browse while Imp flew around her head, orbiting her like a moon.

His sister sighed. Imp plopped on her head, pouting, and Adora stumbled a little under the sudden weight of him. She frowned and glared up at the boy, but then stared back at Hordak. "Yeah, but--" "I'm fine, Adora," Hordak repeated. Then he hesitated, and continued, "We...could use a break, and that can take the form of an afternoon in the market stalls." It was difficult to learn, but Hordak had been learning. He had been learning from his younger siblings, when he found he liked letting them play, and continued to desire seeing them enjoy themselves when they could. He had learned from Cobalt, Grizzlor, and Octavia once he realized he could trust them more. He had learned from Entrapta... (Hordak tried not to think of his oldest brother wreathed in light and consumed with purpose.) Adora blinked, and gave a soft smile. Then she giggled as Imp mussed up her snow white hair, and Hordak led them to the dried fruit stall they all favored. ___ Adora examined various dresses and talked to some eager-to-sell merchants while her brothers stood back. Imp ate the last of the dried apricots while he sat on Hordak's shoulder, and though the risk was minimal, Hordak wanted to ensure he did not make a mess on the shop's inventory. When Imp finished, Hordak nodded to him, quietly giving permission, and the boy immediately launched himself off and flitted around Adora's head. Locals used to Imp were able to mind the boy's flight path.

"Hey, Hordak, you already have an outfit picked out like Imp and Entrapta, right?" Adora called out from behind a shelf of scarves and jewelry, with only the tips of her ears poking out. And then they ducked out of sight while she was clearly on the search for something, or examining something more closely.

"Yes," Hordak said, while he glared at Imp and gave a warning flick of his ears when the boy started playing with a scarf, wrapping it too fast and roughly around his body. The boy stuck out his tongue, but began to disentangle himself.

"Okay, so I'm looking for a dress, but I thought I could accessorize too because something just caught my eye--but maybe I should find a dress first--but this accessory could help me narrow down on a dress that could pair well with it--"

Hordak actually felt the urge to laugh, but he fought it down and only allowed himself a smile. (But he questioned himself--why not laugh, a chuckle in the Valley's bustling market would not be out of place--the silence of his brothers while on guard shift, four eyes staring down--but he had already broken so many edicts--the cold click of a talon guard--)

"Are you asking for input, or brainstorming?" Hordak asked, shoving back thoughts of his original home away. It was a question he had asked Adora before, wishing to determine when she wanted his thoughts or when she wanted someone to just listen.

"Brainstorming! And I'm also prepping you because I want to show you and see what you think, and I think I found something you might like too--" And then Adora stepped out and gestured to her ears with a smile.

Hordak looked, and he felt something rise up in his throat, and he hated himself. The metal clasps wrapped around Adora's ears were bronze and they didn't even reach the tips of her ears--but in his mind's eye he saw Prime and silver clasps perfectly fitted to his ears, and the dark slit pupils of Adora's bright blue eyes were swallowed up by vivid green and lacking in all warmth...

"Brother--?"

Hordak flinched, his eyes squeezed shut. And then it registered with him that it had been Adora's voice filled with concern, obviously not Prime's. His self-loathing grew. He opened his eyes just in time to see Adora close the gap and lay a supporting talon on his arm, clearly worried he might stumble. Imp clung to her shoulder, with part of the scarf he had been playing with still wrapped around one of his arms.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?"

"I...yes, I just need to take a seat," Hordak said, thinking pretending he had felt a little faint was better than admitting to the awful and confusing thoughts that plagued him. Adora promptly and politely asked the merchant's assistant if they had a stool, and he immediately provided one.

Adora thanked the assistant, then looped an arm around Hordak's, clearly wanting to help him sit. Normally he would've resisted, he would've insisted that he could sit by himself at least, but shame and guilt made him comply. But then he saw in his sister's face that his easy compliance had not been reassuring to her.

"When you're ready, we can go back--"

Hordak shook his head while Imp switched to his shoulder. "I'm fine now; I can wait here while you find your dress." Avoiding her concerned look, Hordak unwrapped the final piece of scarf away from Imp, then carefully began rolling it up.

The elder clone glanced up at Adora's ears--now dipped low with worry, he noted with another stab of guilt--and forced himself to review the new accessory by its own merit. Despite his efforts, he felt it still looked eerily similar to Prime's; but its bronze material seemed to go well with the reds Adora tended to favor.

His ears flicked in the direction of her new jewelry. "Their color suits you," he murmured with muted but genuine fondness. This was his sister, her own...truly her own person. Her capacity for mercy marked her as distinct.

Adora's ears pricked up, and she ran a talon self-consciously across the length of a clasp adorning one of them. "You really think so?"

"Of course."

She smiled softly back. Then she startled, as if remembering something. She raised her other talon, closed in a fist. "This is the, um, thing I thought you might like." She unfurled her fist and let a single, red diamond earring dangle from her carefully pinched, taloned fingers. "I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be by itself for an asymmetrical look--at least that's what the note next to it said--"

When Hordak reached out a talon, Adora dropped it in his waiting palm. He rubbed a thumb over its surface, still warm from his sister's touch.

"It's exquisite," Hordak said, and Adora softly chuckled, pleased. Then after again asking Hordak if he was fine and Hordak again insisting he was, Adora went back to looking. Soon she amassed a pile of clothes and claimed one of the dressing stalls. By the time she came out wearing the first dress, Imp was settled in Hordak's lap, and Hordak had tried on the red diamond earring.

"Too long," Adora muttered. She went back in, and came out again in a new dress.

"Too much...um, ruffles?"

Dress number three. "This color's not working."

Back in, back out. "The embroidery's kinda too much."

Next. "Okay guys, what do you think of--?"

"You look like you got run over by a tank." Imp used a recording of Grizzlor's voice, and Hordak gave a scolding hiss.

With a flush running across both her ears and cheeks, Adora immediately ran back into the stall and snapped the curtain behind her. Imp glanced up at Hordak with a guilty look, realizing his joking had gone too far. "You will apologize to her later," he told Imp with a glare.

"Um, so I actually like...kinda like this one..." Adora's voice filtered out from behind the curtain of the stall, and the hesitancy in her voice made Imp's ears lower even more, and Hordak did not relent in the glare he favored him with. "But I dunno, it's...well, look--"

And Adora stepped out, with one talon gripping her other arm while her cheeks and the tips of her ears still flushed blue. Adora favored red, and all of the dresses she had tried on were different shades of it, but this one was the right sort of crimson that went well enough with her blue skin. The cut of it was simple, from its torso to the way the edge of its skirt flared out, but the structure of it suited Adora in his mind. Its belt was just as simple, and with an amber color that paired well with her bronze ear clasps.

"It's kinda basic, but..."

"You look lovely, Adora," Hordak said, and his sister's ears perked up.

"Beautiful." Imp conveyed with a recorded excerpt of Entrapta's voice.

Adora smiled, her blue fangs beaming.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments/reblogs/likes are deeply appreciated!

My Perception On No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

🥀 This year has brought me many joys, that have left me with melancholy victories. I have been venturing out of my usual book genres and I've found a selection of well to do books that I simply cannot live without. How I've existed this far without them, I will never know. There are many different types of literature out there and of course I only focus on English and European Literature. Not because I'm bias  in some way. But I've always found American and European culture very interesting. Despite ignoring my very own culture. It had never occurred to me, that until now, I have never heard of Asian Literature. It's like an unknown phenomenon that no one speaks of. When I think back of my studies in school, I've never even heard of my teachers mentioning Asian writers at all. It was like they didn't exist or people found Asian culture not important enough to read about. Which is odd because in Asian countries they have liberties filled with European novel and American novels. Is it safe to say that Asian people find European and American culture interesting, though we do not share the same feelings toward them. Nevertheless, I stumbled upon Osamu Dazai after reading a mutual friends post about Vincent Van Gogh. It was a silly meme that consisted of Van Gogh and Osamu talking over their depression. Which is not something to joke about but I must confess I found it humorous. Through that humor, I decided to research Osamu and the rest is history. So, here is my thoughts on the exceptional book, No Longer Human. I want to give an in-depth review without giving the book away too much (if at all). But I must warn you that spoilers may become a possibility. No Longer Human is broken into three parts, including an introduction in the beginning by Donald Keene, as well as a Prologue & Epilogue by Osamu Dazai himself. So, to make things easier to understand, I'm going to review each part individually.

The Introduction Normally, I would skip this part of the book because at times it can be very boring and bland. But after reading The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johaan Wolfgang Von Goethe, I found it important to read book introductions because they can have valuable information about the writer. In this section, Donald Keene noted how under appreciated Asian writer are in literature. For some odd reason, American & Europeans cultures specifically seem to feel like we cannot learn anything from Asian culture. Perhaps it has something to do with our history with going to battle with certain Asian countries. Yet, that did not stop countries like Japan and China from filling their liberties with American & European literature. Which upsets me. Had it not been for Van Gogh, I would have missed out on an extremely talented writer. I'm not sure who is to blame for this but I find the idea of not representing Asian writers outside of manga is shameful and sad. There is more to their culture than just that. However, as a whole our world only views Asian people in a small and certain light, that barely gives them any kind of positive recognition outside of the obvious stereotypes. In short, I really urge everyone to take time and read the introduction and share your thoughts on Keene's and my views. What do you think and why is Asian literature so lost and underrepresented? Why do Asian writers rather be on the bottom of American top writing lists, than the top of Asian writer lists? It is very interesting.

🥀

The Prologue In this section, you learn of how Ōba Yōzō (aka Dazai himself) feels alienated and very much of a misfit. He tells you how all of his life he has worn a mask to hid his true sensitive and self destructive self. He harshly criticizes himself and informs you of how he feels about the nature of "humans" and how he never felt like one, thus making him believe that he is not. I like this part of the novel because I can relate to it in so many ways. Many things he explained and said is how I felt (and still very much feel) about myself. Not only of my appearance and state of being but also without people. We both share the same reflection on our confidence or lack there of as a child. I shared his thoughts on normality being ugly and being bland and not standing out is worse than being ugly or beautiful. He even goes on to explain that death has more of a soul or an expression than him. The ugly/void he felt as a child (as well as his whole life) has manifested into a visible void, that crept from his inner darkness and it carries a bland look. Which to me speaks volumes. 🥀

The First Notebook Unable to cope with the world around him, Ōba begins to become a jokester and class clown, in order to mask away the alienation that he feels. He engages in planned fails and acts as if he has no clue as to what he does. He tells us of his environment at home. His father always being gone on business and his mother he did not mention much. He speaks of his maids/servants mistreating him, but he never reported them because he sees it as pointless. We also learn he views a "human" as someone who is happy and hopeful. Perhaps, attractive in some way and could possibly have a great deal or comfortable amount of money. Which is strange because his family were quite wealthy and well known. He speaks of how he feels his life is a shame and the life of a "human" was not cut out for him. There is much more to be said here but I do not wish to spoil everything. I still want readers to get a wow factor from this book, without knowing every details and topic. 🥀

The Second Notebook A very key factor in this part is that Ōba is caught by another student named Takeichi who suspects and confronts him on faking his fall during "gym" class. This sends Ōba into a manic behavior and he somewhat becomes obsessed with Takeichi and fears that he will expose him for being a fraud. I found this interesting given Takeichi had no intention on exposing Ōba or telling anyone about his opinions on his stunts. Certain things happens and the two become somewhat of friends and Takeichi began to mention things to Ōba that were predicting and in a way life changing for Ōba. Ōba also finds an strong interest in art, which leads him to start painting. Ōba also becomes apart of a communist group and becomes a respectable member. Though, he does not share their same views and is only there because he views them as misfits. In this section, a young man now, Ōba meets someone by the name of Horiki. Horiki is also a college student but exposes Ōba into an unfortunate and dreadful life cycles, that pleasures and destroys him further. He also tries to commit suicide with a woman named Tsuneko, who dies but he does not. This even tears him apart and causes his family to the verge of disowning him. 🥀

The Third Notebook: Part One Ōba begans to have multiple affairs with different women, from different walks of life. He becomes a heavy drinker and is expelled from college. He becomes too focus on self destruction, he was not able to create or focus on his artwork. He tries to quite smoking and drinking. But struggles terribly. He marries a young girl, who tries to encourage him to stop drinking and for awhile it works. And for a moment Ōba is happy. The two both marry and move in together. 🥀

The Third Notebook: Part Two Working as a cartoon and sober, Ōba feels somber toward marriage life. He thinks of his wife as native and innocent. But he falls into bad habits once he is visited by an old friend named Horiki, who (with Ōba) witnesses Ōba's wife being sexually assaulted by an associate friend. Ōba begins to blame himself, as well as his wife and becomes manic and fills himself with alcohol and is committed into a mental hospital. After leaving his wife for another woman. This parts ends with him being brought to a home that his brother purchased for him and given the money he needed for living and personal interest. Ōba is left feeling empty and recounts his choices and views of hisself. 🥀

Epilogue We are then given the prospective of an outsider, who wanted to meet Ōba but fails. He then meets a friend of Ōba and she gives him the three notebooks. The man is intrigued by the notebooks and decides to publish them. We are left with a reflects of Ōba's friend telling us that he was a kind and gentle soul, who made everyone laugh and smile. 🥀

My Final Thoughts I believe this is one of the greatest books that I have read. I love the rawness of this book and I adore how the events were true. I feel that Osamu Dazai was a great writer and his death is very unfortunate. I find the way he told his life very interesting and beautiful and poetic. I wish I was able to meet him and praise him for being an amazing artist and writer. But the result would probably remain the same. There is so much that we can learn from Osamu and his life. His perception on life and people is very interesting and a very rare viewpoint on life. I highly suggest that everyone checkout this novel and spread the works of Asian Literature. Thanks For Listening. -𝓒

Lesbian Unintelligibility in Pre-1989 Poland

Selection from ""No one talked about it": The Paradoxes of Lesbian Identity in pre-1989 Poland, by Magdalena Staroszczyk, in Queers in State Socialism: Cruising 1970s Poland, eds. Tomasz Basiuk and Jędrzej Burszta, 2021

The question of lesbian visibility is pertinent today because of the limited number of lesbian-oriented activist events and cultural representations. But it presents a major methodological problem when looking at the past. That problem lies in an almost complete lack of historical sources, something partly mended with oral history interviews, but also in an epistemological dilemma. How can we talk about lesbians when they did not exist as a recognizable category? What did their (supposed) non-existence mean? And should we even call those who (supposedly) did not exist “lesbians”?

To illustrate this problem, let me begin with excerpts from an interview I conducted for the CRUSEV project [a study of queer cultures in the 1970s]. My interlocutor is a lesbian woman born in the 1950s, who lived in Cracow most of her life:

“To this very day I have a problem with my brothers, as I cannot talk to them about this. They just won’t do it, I would like to talk, but. . . . They have this problem, they lace up their mouths when any reference is made to this topic, because they were raised in that reality [when] no one talked about it. It was a taboo. It still is. ... I was so weak, unable to take initiative, lacking a concept of my own life—all this testifies to the oppression of homosexual persons, who do not know how to live, have no support from [others], no information or knowledge learned at school, or from a psychologist. What did I do? I searched in encyclopaedias for the single entry, “homosexuality.” What did I learn? That I was a pervert. What did it do to me? It only hurt me, no? Q: Was the word lesbian in use? Only as a slur. Even my mother used it as an offensive word. When she finally figured out my orientation, she said the word a few times. With hatred. Hissing the word at me.”

The woman offers shocking testimony of intense and persistent hostility towards a family member—sister, daughter—who happens to be a lesbian. The brothers and the mother are so profoundly unable to accept her sexuality that they cannot speak about it at all, least of all rationally. The taboo has remained firmly in place for decades. How was it maintained? And, perhaps more importantly, how do we access the emotional reality that it caused? The quotes all highlight the theme of language, silence, and something unspeakable. Tabooization implies a gap in representation, and the appropriate word cannot be spoken but merely hissed out with hatred.

Popular discourse and academic literature alike address this problem under the rubric of “lesbian invisibility” (Mizielińska 2001). I put forward a different conceptual frame, proposing to address the question of lesbian identity in pre-1989 Poland not in terms of visibility versus invisibility, but instead in terms of cultural intelligibility versus unintelligibility. The former concepts, which have a rich history in discussions of pre-emancipatory lesbian experience, presume an already existing identity that is self-evident to the person in question. They assume the existence of a person who thinks of herself as a lesbian. One then proceeds to ask whether or not this lesbian was visible as such to others, that is, whether others viewed her as the lesbian she knew she was. Another assumption behind this framing is that the woman in question wished to be visible although this desired visibility had been denied her. These are some of the essentializing assumptions inscribed in the concept of (in)visibility. Their limitation is that they only allow us to ask whether or not the lesbian is seen for who she feels she is and wishes to be seen by others.

By contrast, (un)intelligibility looks first to the social construction of identity, especially to the constitutive role of language. To think in those terms is to ask under what conditions same-sex desire between women is culturally legible as constitutive of an identity. So, instead of asking if people saw lesbians for who they really were, we will try to understand the specific epistemic conditions which made some women socially recognizable to others, and also to themselves, as “lesbians.” This use of the concept “intelligibility” is analogous to its use by Judith Butler in Gender Trouble, as she explains why gender conformity is key to successful personhood[...].

For Butler, cultural intelligibility is thus an aspect of the social norm, as it corresponds to “a normative ideal.” It is one of the conditions of coherence and continuity requisite for successful personhood. In a similar vein, to say that lesbians in the People’s Republic of Poland were not culturally intelligible is of course not to claim that there were no women engaged in same-sex romantic and erotic relationships—such a conclusion would be absurd, as well as untrue. It is, rather, to suggest that “lesbian” was not a category of personhood available or, for that matter, desirable to many nonheteronormative women. The word was not in common use and it did not signify to them the sort of person they felt they were. Nor was another word readily available, as interlocutors’ frequent periphrases strongly suggest, for example, “I cannot talk to them about this. ... They ... lace up their mouths when any reference is made to this topic” (my emphases).

Interviews conducted with women for the CRUSEV project are filled with pain due to rejection. So are the interviews conducted by Anna Laszuk, whose Dziewczyny, wyjdźcie z szafy (Come Out of the Closet, Girls! 2006 ) was a pioneering collection of herstories which gave voice to non-heteronormative Polish women of different ages, including those who remember the pre-1989 era. Lesbian unintelligibility is arguably a major theme in the collection. The pain caused by the sense of not belonging expressed by many illustrates that being unintelligible can be harmful. At the same time, unintelligibility had some practical advantages. The main among them was relative safety in a profoundly heteronormative society. As long as things went unnamed, a women-loving woman was not in danger of stigmatization or social ostracism.

Basia, born in 1939 and thus the oldest among Laszuk’s interviewees, offers a reassuring narrative in which unintelligibility has a positive valence:

“I cannot say a bad word about my parents. They knew but they did not comment. . . . My parents never asked me personal questions, never exerted any kind of pressure on me to get married. They were people of great culture, very understanding, and they quite simply loved me. They would meet my various girlfriends, but these were never referred to as anything but “friends” (przyjaciółki). Girls had it much easier than boys because intimacy between girls was generally accepted. Nobody was surprised that I showed up with a woman, invited her home, held her hand, or that we went on trips together.” (Laszuk 2006, 27)

The gap between visceral knowing and the impossibility of naming is especially striking in this passage. The parents “knew” and Basia knew that they knew, but they did not comment, ask questions, or make demands, and Basia clearly appreciates their silence as a favour. To her, it was a form of politeness, discreetness, perhaps even protectiveness. The silence was, in fact, a form of affectionate communication: “they quite simply loved me.”

Another of Laszuk’s interviewees is Nina, born around 1945 and 60 years old at the time of the interview. With a certain nostalgia, Nina recalls the days when certain things were left unnamed, suggesting that there is erotic potential in the unintelligibility of women’s desire. Laszuk summarizes her views:

“Nina claims that those times certainly carried a certain charm: erotic relationships between women, veiled with understatement and secrecy, had a lot of beauty to them. Clandestine looks were exchanged above the heads of people who remained unaware of their meaning, as women understood each other with half a gesture, between words. Nowadays, everything has a name, everything is direct.” (Laszuk 2006, 33)

A similar equation between secrecy and eroticism is drawn by the much younger Izabela Filipiak, trailblazing author of Polish feminist fiction in the 1990s and the very first woman in Poland to publicly come out as lesbian, in an interview for the Polish edition of Cosmopolitan in 1998. Six years later, Filipiak suggested a link between things remaining unnamed and erotic pleasure, and admitted to a certain nostalgia for this pre-emancipatory formula of lesbian (non)identity. Her avowed motivation was not the fear of stigmatization but a desire for erotic intensity:

“When love becomes passion in which I lose myself, I stop calculating, stop comparing, no longer anchor it in social relations, or some norm. I simply immerse myself in passion. My feelings condition and justify everything that happens from that point on. I do not reflect upon myself nor dwell on stigma because my feeling is so pure that it burns through and clears away everything that might attach to me as a woman who loves women.” (Kulpa and Warkocki 2004)

Filipiak acknowledges the contemporary, “postmodern” (her word) lesbian identity which requires activism and entails enumerating various kinds of discrimination. But paradoxically—considering that she is the first public lesbian in Poland—she speaks with much more enthusiasm about the “modernist lesbians” described by Baudelaire:

“They chose the path of passion. Secrecy and passion. Of course, their passion becomes a form of consent to remain secret, to stay invisible to others, but this is not unambivalent. I once talked to such an “oldtimer” who lived her entire life in just that way and she protested very strongly when I made a remark about hiding. Because, she says, she did not hide anything, she drove all around the city with her beloved and, of course, everyone knew. Yes, everyone knew, but nobody remembers it now, there is no trace of all that.” (Kulpa and Warkocki 2004)

Cultural unintelligibility causes the gap between “everyone knew” and “nobody remembers” but it is also the source of excitement and pleasure. For Filipiak’s “old-timer” and her predecessors, Baudelaire’s modernist lesbians, the evasion, or rejection, of identity and the maintaining of secrecy is the path of passion. Crucially, these disavowals of identity mobilize a discourse of freedom rather than hiding, entrapment, or staying in the closet. The lack of a name is interpreted as an unmooring from language and a liberation from its norms.

Needless to say, cultural unintelligibility may also lead to profound torment and self-hatred. In the concept of nationhood generated by nationalists and by the Catholic Church in Poland, lesbians (seen stereotypically) are double outsiders whose exclusion from language is vital.[1] A repentant homosexual woman named Katarzyna offers her testimony in a Catholic self-help manual addressing those who wish to be cured of homosexuality. (It is irrelevant for my purpose whether the testimony is authentic; my interest is in the discursive construction of lesbian identity as literally impossible and nonexistent.) Katarzyna speaks about her search for love, her profound sense of guilt and her disgust with herself. The word “lesbian” is never used; her homosexuality is framed as confusion and as straying from her true desire for God. The origin of the pain is the woman’s unintelligibility to herself:

“Only I knew how much despair there was in my life on account of being different. First, there was the sense of being torn apart when I realized how different my desires were from the appearance of my body. Despite the storm of homosexual desire, I was still a woman. Then, the question: What to do with myself? How to live?” (Huk 1996, 121)

A woman cannot love other women—the subject knows this. We can speculate that her knowledge is due to her Catholic upbringing; she has internalized the teaching that homosexuality is a sin, and thus untrue and not real. The logic of the confession is overdetermined: the only way for her to become intelligible to herself is to abandon same-sex desire and turn to God, and through him to men. Church language thus frames homosexuality as chaos: it is a disordered space where no appropriate language can obtain. Within this frame, unintelligibility is anything but erotic. It is rather an instrument of shaming and, once internalized, a symptom of shame.

For many, the experience of unintelligibility is moored in intense heteronormativity, without regard to Church teachings or the language of national belonging. Struggling with the choice between social intelligibility available to straights and leading an authentic life outside the realm of intelligibility, one CRUSEV interlocutor, aged 67, describes her youth in 1960s and 1970s:

“I always knew I was a lesbian ... and if I am one, then I will be one. Yes, in that sense. And not to live the life of a married woman, mother and so on. This life wasn’t my life at all. However, as I said, it was fine in an external sense. So calm and well-ordered: a husband, nice children, everything, everything. But it was external, and my life was not my life at all, it wasn’t me.”

She thus underscores her internal sense of dissonance, a felt incompatibility with the social role she was playing. The role model of a wife and mother was available to her, but a lesbian role model was not.

The discomfort felt at the unavailability of a role model may have had different consequences. Another CRUSEV interviewee, aged 62, describes her impulse to change her life so as to authentically experience her feelings for another woman, in contrast to that woman’s ex:

“She visited me a few times, and it was enough that I wrote something, anything ... [and] she would get on the train and travel across the country. There were no telephones then, during martial law. Regardless of anything, she would be there. And at one point I realized that I ... damn, I loved her. ... She broke up with her previous girlfriend very violently—this may interest you—because it turned out that the girl was so terribly afraid of being exposed and of some unimaginable consequences that she simply ran away.”

The fear of exposure, critically addressed by the interlocutor, was nonetheless something she, too, experienced. She goes on to speak of “hiding a secret” and “stifling” her emotions.

A concern with leading an inauthentic life resurfaces in the account of the afore-quoted woman, aged 67:

“I couldn’t reveal my secret to anyone. The only person who knew was my friend in Cracow. I led such a double life, I mean. ... It is difficult to say if this was a life, because it was as if I had my inner spirituality and my inner world, entirely secret, but outside I behaved like all the other girls, so I went out with some boys. ... It was always deeply suppressed by me and I was always fighting with myself. I mean, I fell in love [with women] and did everything to fall out of love [laughter]. On and on again.”

Her anxiety translates into self-pathologizing behaviour:

“In 1971 I received my high school diploma and I was already . . . in a relationship of some years with my high school girlfriend. . . . But because we both thought we were abnormal, perverted or something, somehow we wanted to be cured, and so she was going to college to Cracow, and I to Poznań. We engaged in geographic therapy, so to speak.”

The desire to “be cured” from homosexuality recurs in a number of interviews. Sometimes it has a factual dimension, as interlocutors describe having undergone psychotherapy and even reparative therapy—of course, to no avail.

Others decide to have a relationship with a woman after years spent in relationships with men. Referring to her female partner of 25 years, who had previously been married to a man, one of my interlocutors suggests that her partner had been disavowing her homosexual desires for many years before the two women’s relationship began: “the truth is that H. had struggled with it for more than 20 years and she was probably not sure what was going on.” Despite this presumed initial confusion, the women’s relationship had already lasted for more than 25 years at the time I conducted the interview.

Recognizing one’s homosexual desires did not necessarily have to be difficult or shocking. It was not for this woman, aged 66 at the time of the interview:

“It was obvious to me. I didn’t, no, no, I didn’t suppress it, I knew that [I was going], “Oh, such a nice girl, I like this one, with this one I want to be close, with that one I want to talk longer, with that one I want to spend time, with that one I want, for example, to embrace her neck or grab her hand”.”

Rather, what came as a shock was the unavailability of any social role or language corresponding to this felt desire that came as a shock. The woman continues:

“It turned out that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, that I couldn’t tell anyone. I realized this when I grew up and watched my surroundings, family, friends, society. I saw that this topic was not there! If it’s not there, how can I get it out of myself? I wasn’t so brave.”

The tabooization of homosexuality—its unintelligibility—is a recurring thread in these accounts; what varies is the extent to which it marred the subjects’ self-perception.

About a Certain Duke's Daughter (Part 2)

Translation of ある公爵令嬢について from the Hamefura Web Novel Read Part 1 here

T/N: I am using the spelling used in the Light Novels, but I would probably make an exception for Fray, if/when she appears. I'll use Randall as her last name if ever (it was Landoor in the LNs, iirc). :) Holy, moly. This part is a little longer than the previous one and took me more time to translate than I thought it would. My apologies for any typos or grammatical mistakes--I haven't given it another read through so this is as raw as it gets. xD Anyway, please enjoy, and my messages are open if you notice any translation/grammatical mistakes, or just want to talk about HameFura.

And so, a few years after I started being able to use magic, I enrolled at the Academy of Magic.

And while I entered the academy shouldering the excessive expectations of the Tucker household, I arrived only to learn that my magic was actually quite weak.

No, rather than learning about it for the first time, I already noticed it before.

The Tucker house was situated far in the countryside, and while it is a Baron household, it was quite a low-ranking house. There was no one with magical powers nearby.

Even so, from the way my magical powers activated at a later age and from what was written in books about magic, I already knew that my magic was quite weak.

However, actually entering the Academy of Magic and seeing the magical powers of the sons and daughters of other nobles, I realized once again that it was quite impertinent to even call my own magical power as magic.

I was already reluctant to go back to the Tucker household before, and now, after this realization, I became even more reluctant to go back to the estate.

Baron Tucker was so over the moon at having a magic-user in the family for the first time that he said he’ll have someone’s son marry into the family and make me the heiress but.. Honestly, from the perspective of a high-ranking house with several magic-wielding members, a concubine’s daughter with such negligible magical powers would just be laughed at scornfully.

The Tucker family, a low-ranking baron household, was, so to speak, a family of naive country bumpkins.

I am grateful to them of course, for providing for me thus far, and I was thinking about paying them back the cost of taking care of me once I start working.

However, not once had I ever thought of wanting to stay in the Tucker house.

It was not like I hated it there, but I didn’t feel at home either.

So I looked for a way to avoid going back home.

A way for the baron family to acknowledge me without me having to go back… And I found it.

That is, to work at the Magical Ministry. It is the most prominent organization in the country and admired by many.

If I am employed there, the Tuckers will be overjoyed, and they will never ask me to quit and go home.

It is said that while the Magical Ministry employs a lot of powerful magic-users, even those with almost no magical powers but have excellent grades could be employed as researchers.

And since I have insignificant magical powers, I have no choice but to aim for that.

Fortunately for me—someone who had been continuously praised for being a remarkable student by my teachers since I was but a child—I was able to remain an excellent student even after entering the Academy of Magic.

I was able to get the top ranking at the academic tests that took place soon after entering the academy. As a result, while I have very little magical capabilities, I was selected to become a member of the much-admired student council.

The student council of the Academy of Magic was a target of admiration of the whole student body.

After the Tucker household was notified that I became a member of the council, I received an all too thick letter from them expressing their joy. I was also commended by my teachers.

To a daughter of a countryside baron, this was such a great honor.

However, this also led to a lot of jealousy.

In the first place, most magic wielders are nobles, and the higher you go up the nobility rank, the greater the number of wielders.

Therefore, the majority of the students at the Academy of Magic are those of higher peerage.

This trend is especially apparent these days. Within the second years, students even include those of royal status and sons and daughters of dukes—people you ordinarily wouldn’t get the chance to meet if you live your life normally.

Under these circumstances, I could understand why the other students would not find it amusing if the daughter of a countryside baron had been selected to be a part of the widely-admired student council.

The jealousy is particularly strong this year, as the student council, starting with the royal twins, included a lot of seniors that are strongly adored by their juniors.

As far as social statuses go, among the second years, there is a commoner who wields magic—something the Academy had not seen in a while—named Maria Campbell, but… she is a wielder of light magic; aside from the fact that light magic users are extremely rare, her magical power is also regarded as top class.

In contrast to that, I am but the daughter of a countryside baron, not much different to a commoner in terms of status, wielding the not uncommon wind magic—and it’s fairly weak too. My only saving grace is my academic capabilities…….

It would probably go better for me if I had a more amiable personality, but... if you’d allow me to say so myself, I am quite twisted. I can’t even begin to spell amiable.

In other words, on top of the extreme jealousy, students in the academy despised me for being “a haughty and disagreeable girl despite her weak magic and low station”.

To be honest, though being in this situation feels terrible, there is nothing that I can do.

Ever since before, no one in the Tucker household really liked me, and even in the school I used to attend, people talked behind my back, and I was subjected to petty harassment.

To that end, the situation hasn’t really changed, just that the harassment has become a little more intense.

In other words, I should just do my best for two years, get excellent grades and get a job at the Magical Ministry.

I just have to continue to work hard on my own, as I always had. That was what I decided in my heart a few weeks after entering the Academy of Magic. That was what I intended but…..

“Hey, Ginger, you should try these sweets too. They’re very good!*

“No, thank you. I’m still working.”

“Really? I’ll just leave them here for you then~”

Saying this, she grinned and left the sweets beautifully wrapped in paper on top of the desk.

She had never responded to me in an unpleasant way even with my curt way of replying, something that is often frowned upon by others. If anything, no matter how cold I respond, she continues to approach me with a friendly smile. I can’t help but find it strange.

A few months have passed since my enrollment at the Academy of Magic and becoming a member of the student council.

Thanks to that, I’ve gotten quite used to my work here, but... There were some unexpected happenings as well.

To begin with, ever since I started being envied and harassed by the people around me after entering the academy and being selected as a member of the student council, I had intended to do my best on my own.

After all, I thought no one would involve themselves with me with any intention other than bullying.

And yet..… Most of the other first years who were also selected for the student council both had high pride and status, and I can feel their uneasiness around me, but…… All the second-year members are friendly and amicable, seemingly unbothered by social ranks.

Even the members of the royal family, Prince Jeord and Prince Alan, do not look down on me, and treat me as an equal.

And among those people, the one who is especially friendly is

———Katarina Claes, a duke’s daughter.

The only daughter of Duke Claes and Prince Jeord’s fiancée.

She, who stands on top of the social hierarchy, goes in and out of the student council every day, having completely integrated herself with the other student council members despite not being an actual member herself.

At the very strong request of the other second-year members, she was allowed to enter the student council room—

A place that is off-limits to the general student populace.

Lady Katarina is called “The Benevolent Saint” within the school. When I just joined the student council, I was also a little surprised by her kind and amiable smile.

However, after a little while, I realized.

Katarina Claes is————simply a dumb weirdo…...

Island Dreams - Epilogue

So, this is it. We officially reached the end. I must admit I am very sad. Writing this story has been such a great journey but Aelin and Rowan have their happy ending. This chapter is set 5 years after the events of the previous chapter. it's divided in two parts. The first one we have Aelin telling in first person what happened in five years. Part two has a snippet of our beloved Whitethorn-Galathynius family. we get to meet Freyja and Morrigan and a surprise too. I hope you love the girls.

I want to say a massive thank to every single person who read the story, reblogged it or left a comment. Thank you. I am so grateful for all the support you gave me.

I am coming back..  A Little Braver is going well and I hope to be brave enough to post chapter one soon.

And now i'll leave you to the story. Enjoy <3

--------------------

5 years later

My name is Aelin and my story began five years ago. I was once heartbroken and one day I left my old life behind and took a flight to Scotland, and then a ferry and I ended up on this island called Lewis. I am a bookworm and one of the first thing I did once on the island was to go and hunt for a bookstore. And well, you know the story after that. It’s been five years since the day Rowan and I officially tied our lives together at Callanish. As promised we went back there after a year and a day and renewed our vows.

Married life had its ups and downs but Rowan and I fought through every single challenge that came our way. We made it work, we fought for each other as we promised and we love each other just as we did when we began. And some. Every year Rowan has been celebrating the anniversary of the day I arrived on the island and officially entered his life. Sometimes I think he prefers that day to our wedding anniversary. Anyway, as you remember we finished the story with the four of us, Rowan, me and our two girls Morrigan and Freyja. Those two cute bundles of flesh are now two very active five years old driving mum and dad crazy but also being the most precious thing in our life. They will start primary school next month and I am trying not to cry if I think how much they have grown. Physically they are their father’s clone. They both have deep pine green eyes and his same silver hair. Freyja likes it long and loves when either I or Rowan braid it. He has become quite a wizard at braiding our daughter’s hair. Morrigan, on the other hand, prefers it short. But the similarities end with that. Personality wise they cannot be any more different. Freyja is like me. Rowan calls her his wee Fireheart. She is fierce and stubborn. She has a very strong personality and for a five year old she has her ideas clear on what she wants. She is like quicksilver and always active. She is the first one to wake up and the last one to go to bed. She is curious and fearless and loves nature just as much as her father. She is out little hurricane. Morrigan, on the other hand, is the calm one and reserved and she reminds me so much of Rowan. She observes a lot and when you think she is not paying attention, she comes up with question that makes you realise she was listening after all. She has an inquisitive mind and her non stop questions can be exhausting after a long day. She is shy. Where her sister had been since tender age happy to be with anyone, Morrigan has always been very selective. Growing up she has her favourite selection of adults. She is very close to her father, probably because they are very similar, but Uncle Malcolm and Aedion come second. Aedion got her hooked on planes. Once we were at his and Lys’ house and Morrigan grabbed one of his models planes and started playing with it. Aedion had started talking about the plane and now when they are together she always ask him about planes. We think she’ll be a pilot. Both girls are obsessed with books just like her parents and Rowan has taken upon him the job of teaching them to read. Morrigan can read very simple words and write her own name. Freyja would too if she could sit down for more than five minutes. Good luck with the teachers. She is very bright, she just can’t stay still for very long. She was probably the one doing all the kicking while in the womb. The amazing thing is that they get along. It took us a while to teach them to sleep in their individual rooms. For a while in the morning we would find one in the other’s bed. Always curled up together as they used to do when they were little. Freyja at the park always play the protective one and looks after her sister and chases away the kids who try to take advantage of her sister’s calmer nature. If we were in a fantasy I would imagine Freyja being the woman learning to wield a sword and who would train with the guys and dreamed of becoming a knight. Morrigan, I imagine her as the one with her nose in books and who dreams of becoming a healer. I think Rowan is writing a story about them. Oh yes, I will tell you about his book in a moment. There is a further family member that I need to introduce: our son Dalamar. Yes, Rowan and I have scandalised parents at kindergarten with our weird names. Freyja did not cause much problems but a couple of mothers had a go at me for calling my daughter with such as negative name as Morrigan. I usually explain that I do not expect my daughter to become the goddess of war but that simply Rowan and I liked the name. And do not get me started with Dalamar. No-one apparently has read the Dragonlace chronicles so when we say Dalamar is a dark elf in the books, well, the glares we get are incredible. But again, Rowan and I wanted an original name. We started searching in books to find something we liked and then Rowan found his old copy of the Dragonlance chronicles and he suggested Dalamar. I joked that if we truly wanted to scandalise Stornoway, we should have called him Raistlin. So in the end we went for something less alien and settled on Dalamar. Anyway, Dalamar is two. He was planned though. Rowan and I had decided we wanted a big family so once the girls were around three we started to try and add another member. When we had the conversation we had talked about having four kids, but alas, Dalamar’s birth has been so full of complication that my chances of another pregnancy are now non existent. But Rowan and I are happy. We have our big family. So, Dalamar has blond hair, much fairer than mine and very light blue eyes. He is a gorgeous wee boy. In terms of personality he is halfway between his sisters. He can be adorable one moment and stubborn like a mule the next. But at least they get along and again, Freyja has taken him under her wing. She really is our knight in shining armour. Both girls are fluent Gaelic speakers. After they were born I asked Rowan if he wanted to teach Gaelic to the girls and he had been very happy about it. So we decided that he would speak only Gaelic to the girls and I was the boring parents with English, although sometimes I am brave and I practice with them, then I embarrass myself and revert to English. We have started the same process with Dalamar and he is like a sponge. Morrigan sometimes helps me with my exercises and Gaelic homework. I am taking classes as well when I can. It’s quite embarrassing when you are almost forty and your five years old daughter tells you “Don’t worry mum, you are doing great.” And then adds something in Gaelic and you need to wait for your husband for a translation. Kids, aside… our lives haven’t changed very much. Rowan still works at the bookstore and Malcolm’s sister is still his assistant. She had been wonderful and he could easily count on her when he needed to stay at home with me and the kids. The shop is becoming very popular, my Facebook page has now reached many followers and a year after our daughters were born he finally managed to set up a website for online ordering. My dearest husband also managed to write a book, find an editor and have it printed and distributed in some smaller bookstores. Of course I told him to have in his shop. We did a book signing hoopla and I don’t think I ever seen Rowan so embarrassed. Anyway, he wrote a fantasy and as promised I was in it and I was Queen as requested. He was my warrior. Loads of angst and epic battles but we end up together. I am very proud of him. Now he is working on one were our children are the main characters. I have only read the fist few chapters and I love it already. But I am his wife so I am biased. I still work at the hospital and still love my job. I started helping as well as paramedic and specifically in the air squad. The team that gets to be airlifted at the site of accidents and the whole thing required a special type of training and it had been amazing. On occasions, I get to work with Aedion. He flies, I save lives. I wish I could tell the London guys that they were wrong. Working in a small hospital is not throwing away my career. I feel more satisfied than I ever felt when I was down south. Malcolm is still my second and I still adore him. Three years ago he finally got married. After my wedding Aiden went for his last deployment and made it back alive and then retired from the navy. He and Malcolm started dating seriously. A year later they moved in together and a year after that Malcolm finally proposed. Aiden has found a civilian job and well, they got their happily ever after. Another couple who got their happily ever after is Lysandra and Aedion. He proposed about five months after mine and Rowan’s wedding and three months later they were married. They had gone for a very small and private ceremony. One year later they had their fist child a boy named Marcus and now Lysandra is pregnant with their second, a girl. She climbed up again the ladder at the hospital and now she is just one level below the head of the department. Then we have Elias. How can I forget him? He is still in Shetland and we keep in touch and we meet when he is back on the islands. His job is going wonderfully and recently got promoted. Two years ago he got married to Ciara and he is happy and a few months ago she gave birth to an adorable little girl named Martha. She is cute. I have seen her when they came down last month. We remained good friends and both had the happy ending we wanted. We still joke and we love to compliment each other on making marriage number two stick. His book addiction got worse and I think I created a monster. He also bought Rowan’s book and raved about it for months. Then we have Elide and Lorcan. We see each other quite regularly. Every year in July they come to Heb Celt and now they can stay at our place. We have been down to Glasgow a few times and Lorcan yearly provides Rowan with tickets for the Six Nations and we religiously go and see the matches. I am officially a Scotland’s fan and I even learnt Flower of Scotland. The boys are proud of me. Elide is still a teacher and Lorcan still the coach of the Warriors. Their family has gotten bigger as well and they have a boy and a girl and Elide is expecting a third one. Apparently they want a big family too. Oh and Lorcan can smile for more than a second. I must admit I have changed my mind about the man and once he gets comfortable with someone he is actually quite a decent human being. He as a dark sense of humour and us two are usually the ones scandalising the group with dark jokes. Aunt Maeve is still running her cafe and she had been a great help as well while the kids were growing up. She would come up with crazy excuses to offer to babysit them and gave us plenty of chances for me and Rowan to have some time alone. Especially after the two births. She also spoils the girls and love to bake for them. Freyja loves to bake with Maeve and, like me is obsessed with cakes. Also, baking is the only activity when our energetic daughter can stay still for more than ten minutes. Morrigan, on the other hand is fussy as her father and not a fan of sweet stuff. We really got one clone each. Dalamar is still too small but he eats anything. My mum has joined the group as well. She has bought a flat up here and sold the house in London. She decided that she wanted to be a part of her grandchildren lives so she moved up here and she is in good terms with Maeve and sometimes she helps her at the cafe. The two of them cooking are becoming very popular in town.

***

“Come on, let’s go and see dad in the shop.” Aelin took Dalamar’s hand and made sure the twins were walking in front of her. Morrigan started blabbing something in Gaelic but Aelin didn’t understand. “Beurla, mo chridhe,” said Aelin to her daughter. “Tha mi duilich, mum.” Morrigan gave her a toothy smile, showing off her missing tooth. They walked to the shop and once they got in the two girls ran to their father who crouched down and they crashed into him. “I bring chaos.” Joked Aelin while Dalamar was still holding her hand. Rowan had started hosting afternoon for kids in his shop when he would reads books or just have storytelling sessions. He had started during the school holidays to have a way to keep the younger children busy but then it became very popular and he kept going, so once a week the shop is invaded by parents and their kids. The twins loved to listen to their dad tell stories. Dalamar loved it as well but he was far too young to understand what was happening so most of the times he would end up playing with Lys and Aedion’s son Marcus. Aelin reached Rowan and gave him a kiss and the twins made disgusted noises and Aelin laughed “one day you will find a boy or a girl and you’ll want to kiss him or her as well and it won’t be as disgusting,” she said tickling Freyja who was the one who was the most disgusted. “I am going to be a knight. I don’t need a boy.” Added Freyja proudly. “I am going to be a doctor like mum.” Was Morrigan’s turn. “So, a knight and a doctor, I guess we got very lucky.” Rowan pulled Aelin in his arms “looks like the goddess of love wants to fight and is not interested in love and the goddess of war wants to heal people.” “Well, you can’t say that we don’t have an interesting family.” Joked Aelin. Then Rowan bend over and lifted Dalamar in his arms “and you?” He kissed his cheek “what do you want to do?” “Tuathanach.” Replied the boy hugging his father. Aelin laughed and brushed his blond hair “that is lovely, my love.” With time and once they were properly settled down they had decided to dedicate a part of the land they owned to have a small farm. They had a couple of cows, a few chickens and loads of sheep. Dalamar loved to run after the sheep and help his dad look after the animals. That’s why Aelin and Rowan were not surprised when he said he wanted to be a farmer. The twins went behind the counter and grabbed the colouring books that Rowan kept stashed for when he had them in the shop and the pencils and ran to the kids’ table at the bottom of the shop. Rowan placed Dalamar on the floor “Go and colour with your sisters.” “Tha.” And the boy joined the two girls. Aelin leaned exhausted against Rowan. “You look tired.” “They have far too much energy. We went to the park. Freyja ran and jumped the whole time. Morrigan wanted to pat the ducks and almost ended up in the pond and Dalamar chased every single dog or cat.” She explained, looking at their kids with affection “then we had ice cream, we went to say hi to Aunt Maeve and grandma Evalin and Freyja and Dalamar stuffed themselves with carrot cake. Morrigan just had a carrot. She is annoyingly healthy like you.” “My girl.” Said Rowan proudly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them madly, but I just wished they had just a smidge less energy.” Rowan kissed her forehead “I’ll entertain them tonight and make sure they go to bed early. Hopefully they will run out of energy soon.” “Morrigan and Dalamar perhaps. Not Freyja, that girl has limitless power.” “Just like her mother.” Rowan’s arms squeezed her tight “The girls are going to school next month so hopefully they will calm down a bit.” “I am terrified at the idea of Freyja sitting on a chair all day. I feel sorry for the poor teacher.” Rowan laughed “she might find it interesting and actually sit.” “Ro, she can’t even stay still when you read stories.” He scratched his head “I was thinking we can sign her up for some sport.” “You can take her swimming.” Suggested Aelin. Rowan had kept his job as swimming instructor with Dorian and they had made it work. When the kids were at home she would take them to the swimming complex and once Rowan was done they would all swim together. He had begun teaching the twins to float and some very basics techniques. Freyja had loved it, but she preferred jumping from the smallest platform. Morrigan on the other hand had been a good student and had followed her dad’s instructions and could do a nice basic breaststroke. Dalamar would soak with Aelin with his water wings. He loved being in the water. “She could become one of those athletes who jump from platforms into water. A professional diver. She is surely fearless for a five years old.” “I can see her as a rugby player.” And Aelin laughed. “We’ll let her decide.” “Of course,”Aelin kissed him “Look, some mum and kids are arriving.” Rowan was due to start his storytelling session very soon and mothers, fathers and kids had started to arrive in the shop. Five minutes later Rowan took his position at the bottom of the shop on his chair. All the kids sat on the floor on the colourful mats Rowan had bought. Morrigan and Dalamar would sit at his feet, but Rowan would alway keep Freyja in his arms so he could hold her still for a while. “Thank you everyone for coming this afternoon. Kids, are you all comfortable?” Aelin stood in a corner and stared at him as per her usual. Rowan was such a natural around kids. It had been so easy for him to settle into his role as a dad. He had been amazing with their kids and he’d do literally anything to make them happy. But at the same time he had managed to keep the wonderful balance to prevent them to become spoiled brats whose parents would give them anything. “Today’s story is about a princess. Her name is Aelin.” “Like mum.” shouted Freyja in her father’s arms. “Tha, mo chridhe.” And Rowan kissed her head and a smug smile appeared on the girl’s face. “She is fierce and brave and very, very beautiful. So beautiful that all the princes in the realm wanted to marry her.” Aelin laughed and blushed a bit. “Is there a dragon?” Asked Freyja who seemed had already passed her attention span limit. “Shhh, my love.” But he knew it was a desperate hope. “The princess had been put under a spell by her horrible stepmother who was very jealous of her. She could not enjoy true love with the man she loved until the dragon that held the necklace with the spell was killed. Aelin was in love with the captain of the guard, a man called Rowan. The wicked stepmother had found out and so punished her. She had planned to marry her off to a wealthy old man.” When Aelin noticed Freyja was getting fidgety, she took a chair and sat beside her husband and grabbed their daughter so that he could continue his tale. “Rowan offered to go on a quest and kill the dragon but Aelin refused to be left behind. She was not a damsel in distress. So during the night she gathered some of her stuff, donned her armour and together they set off on an adventure. During their trip he would train her with the sword so she could defend herself. It took them a few months but they did manage to reach the dragon’s lair.” “Dragon.” Freyja was ecstatic and Aelin held her tight. “But while they took the path through the magic forest to reach the dragon lair, Rowan and Aelin got separated. The forest was very dangerous but they were both very brave and fought all the perils and when Aelin finally reached the lair she saw that Rowan was already there but he was injured. She drew her sword and decided to face the dragon alone. In the forest she had discovered that she had fire magic and she wanted to punish the dragon. So she started fighting him, but the dragon was huge and she was getting tired. In that instant Rowan woke up again and walked to her. Together they fought the dragon and eventually killed it and destroyed the necklace, setting Aelin free. She finally kissed him and slowly they returned back home. Once back at the castle, they discovered the wicked mother was gone and Aelin and Rowan decided to get married. They invited all the villagers and they lived happily ever after.” Rowan had to simplify the story to make it acceptable to young kids but they seemed to have liked it. He told a few more stories and two hours later the shop was empty and he was alone again with his family. Dalamar had fallen asleep in Aelin’s arms. Morrigan had gone back to her colouring book and Freyja was pretending to be a knight, swinging around the toy sword Rowan had given her. “I am princess Aelin and I kill dragons.” She shouted while Rowan chased her around the shop. Rowan finally grabbed her and lifted her like a sack of potatoes “dad, the dragon,” she protested while trying to wriggle out of her father’s grip. “Freyja!” Aelin noticed Rowan’s command voice. The one that could actually slow down the little terror. The girl stopped moving and Rowan sat her down beside her sister and she grabbed a colouring book and joined Morrigan in silence. “You really have super powers.” Rowan leaned over to kiss his wife’s head “Give me ten minutes and we’ll go home.”

Half an hour later they were finally at home. Rowan carried a sleepy Morrigan and Aelin carried Dalamar who had been sleeping for an hour now. Freyja had followed in silence, with her sword tucked in the belt loop of her trousers. “I’ll make dinner, you change the kids.” Aelin nodded “Let’s go Freyja it’s jammies time.” The little girl gave her a huge smile and followed her mother with Morrigan at her side. Aelin placed Dalamar on the bed, and helped the two girls change into their night clothes. “Did you have fun at dad’s tonight?” “Yes.” They both squealed. Once they were ready, Aelin tied Freyja’s hair “now go back downstairs to dad but let him cook, okay?” The two girls nodded and left the room. Aelin grabbed her little boy and took him to his room, changed him into his pyjama and tucked him in bed “I love you,” she told him while kissing him on the cheek. Then grabbed the baby monitor and joined the rest of her family downstairs. The twins were on the carpet playing quietly with Morrigan’s planes. Aelin joined Rowan and hugged him from behind “Dalamar is in bed and the girls are playing.” She kissed his back “and your food smells amazing.” “Freyja finally calmed down.” “My mum says that she reminds her of me when I was little.” Aelin squeezed him. He switched off the hob and turned engulfing her in his arms “It does not surprise me.” And he kissed her deeply and Aelin replied in the same manner. He pushed her to the table and she grabbed his butt pulling him to her and she moaned against his mouth. He kissed her neck and Aelin’s hands found their way under his t-shirt. Then she pulled away “Ro, the kids are in the other room and awake.” Rowan leaned his forehead against hers cupping her face in his hands. The kiss he gave her was full of need and love “I know.” He sighed pulling away. Their intimate life had taken a bit of a hit and most nights they were too tired to even try and do something. The last time they had managed to get some action was when Aelin’s mother had kidnapped their kids for an entire weekend four months before. And the mornings were not good either because the twins had the habit of waking up and joining their parents in bed for some family cuddling. Aelin crashed her forehead on his chest “I miss our wall…” she laughed “but I know that I would fall asleep as soon as my back hits it.” Rowan kissed her again “I miss you too.” Then pulled away “Come one, let’s go and feed our hurricanes.” In that instant she heard Dalamar calling her through the baby monitor and five minutes later Aelin was downstairs with a weepy boy in her arms “Someone else is joining us for dinner.” The five of them had dinner and once they were done the kids moved to the sofa and Aelin gave them her old laptop so they could watch their hour of tv. She and Rowan had never bought a tv and the kids never asked for it but allowed them to watch an hour of cartoons on Netflix in the evening after dinner while they cleaned up. Most of times they got bored after half an hour and went back playing until bed time but when they were tired they did manage their hour. “They are watching Totoro again.” Said Aelin, joining Rowan in the kitchen with a pile of dishes then she grabbed a towel and started drying all the ones he had already washed. “They do love Totoro.” He added smiling. “Morrigan the other day said she wants to study Japanese so she could talk to Totoro and Freyja wants to go in the woods to look for him.” Rowan roared with laughter “I love the idea of studying Japanese, though.” “Our two wonderful weirdos.”Aelin stored away all the dishes. Once they were done they got back in the living room and silence reigned. The laptop was on the carpet and the three kids were are all hugged together on the sofa. Dalamar sleeping on Freyja’s chest like in the scene where Mei sleeps on Totoro’s belly, her arms protectively around her brother’s back. Morrigan was snuggled against her sister, her hand holding one of Freyja’s. Aelin gasped at the scene and Rowan pulled her to him and kissed her head “they are finally fell asleep.” He turned Aelin and held her from behind, his chin on her head and his arms tight around her. “This is it, Buzzard. This is my island dream.” Rowan kissed her temple. “This is my dream too.”

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Welcome back to our latest - and last! - Deep Dive into the gameplay of The Sims 4 Nifty Knitting Stuff Pack. I’ve really enjoyed sharing the designs and development of this pack with you, and I hope to continue doing these sorts of posts in the future. It’s been a super cool experience, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading these! In today’s post I’ll talk about the feature that is core to everything in this pack, Knitting! Once again, I have to remind you that we’re still in active development on the pack and so some things may change between now and the final game. Now, let’s talk about some nifty knits!

READ IT I PROMISE YOU GONNA LIKE IT!

In order to start knitting, you’ll need to purchase a Yarn Basket from the Build/Buy catalog. You probably remember voting on these baskets a while back. This was the winning design, presented to you now in all its colorful glory! Don’t like color? That’s okay, because we included a solid black and white variant.

We have one more knitting basket coming too! Remember this one?

The basket acts as the crafting catalyst(neat term, huh?) similar to the Easel or Woodworking Bench in The Sims 4 base game. But unlike those examples, the Yarn Basket is meant to live in a Sim’s inventory so that they can take their knitting anywhere they want to go. Knitting itself is relatively straightforward: click on the Yarn Basket in your inventory, OR, with the basket in your inventory, click on the chair you want to sit in while knitting (perhaps a rocking chair?) and select the Knit interaction. Your projects are saved to your Sim, so you can pause your progress at any time and resume later, and even juggle multiple projects at once. Starting a project costs a small amount of Simoleons for the cost of yarn, but nothing too outrageous.

(Children can knit too!) As a Sim levels up their knitting skill they’ll have access to new patterns. They’ll start with knitting socks and beanies, but as they grow more skilled they can tackle more challenging projects like sweaters and toys for kids. But if you only want to specialize in one thing - perhaps knitted mailbox cozies? - that's fine too! Just keep knitting anything and everything, and you’ll be level 10 before you know it. Speaking of knitting skill, sometimes your skill is reflected in your knitted work, or rather your lack of skill. Knitting projects can fail, and when they fail they can get weird. But it’s all subjective, and maybe you’ll end up accidentally knitting the cutest derpy companion, or the perfectly itchy sweater. No mistakes, only happy accidents!

(Just own it.) One of the niftiest parts of the knitting skill is unlocking the ability to Teach to Knit, where Sims sit down together and have a knitting pow-wow. We wanted this to feel special, so we got a really sweet animation for it (Thanks Haeju!). Now that you can infect other Sims with the knitting bug, no yarn ball will be safe!

(The knitting needles aren’t finished on the Teach To Knit interaction yet, but trust me it's SUPER CUTE.) So, what can you do with all these knitting projects? Lots of stuff! Not only can knitted objects be listed on Plopsy, but you can also Donate them to charity. If you want to surprise a loved one, try Gifting a knitted object too. If you want to destroy all traces of your knitted failures, you can Frog the object and start again! If it's a particularly nice Sweater that you made, consider Adding it to Wardrobe to make it available in Create-A-Sim to all family members.

(Everyone appreciates a nice gift!) We want Sims to be able to knit something for their whole family. Not only will Sims be able to knit Toddler Onesies, but Baby Onesies as well. So put your little grubworm in a handmade knitted outfit. I’m sure they’d thank us if they could! (And if they didn’t like it I’m sure they’d be polite about it.)

(Here’s a sneak peek at some of the concept art for new clothing for the littlest of Sims!) It also felt like a good idea to add an Aspiration to tie this passion for knitting all together. So if you want to master the fuzzy art of knitting, consider signing your Sim up for the Lord(or Lady) of the Knits Aspiration. With yarn running through your veins, there will be no knitting mountain too hard to conquer! Master the Aspiration and you’ll be rewarded with the Sacred Knitting Knowledge trait. What does it do? Lots of stuff! What does it unlock? Something special! Am I being vague? I am! Come on guys, I can’t share all the secrets quite yet.

As I’ve mentioned previously, we’re trying to get as much cross-pack functionality for knitting as we can. Cats can play with Yarn Baskets and Yarn Balls, there will be new Club rules for Knitting, new class electives at University, and knitting counts for Emotional Control, just to name a few. I’m hoping Knitting feels nice and snug alongside our other gameplay systems. Now let's have a chat with our lead Object Modeler, Beth Mohler! Conor: Can you tell us a little bit about what an Object Modeler does on The Sims 4? Beth: As an object modeler I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to make objects work in The Sims 4. This is actually a very involved process, and somewhat different from the wonderful work our environment team does. We work with designers, concept artists, engineers, animators, vfx artists (basically everyone!) to make sure that Sims can use an object properly in an animation, or that all of our objects will work with each other. Once we understand the design for a new object, we will create a rig, a block model (a very generic version of the object used to help us make more of the same object in the future), and a footprint (tells us where the object can go and how Sims move around it). Once those are tested by animators and other disciplines we can model the final version, create UVs, and add textures. We also hook up and test everything in the game to make sure it all looks good. There is a lot to think about when it comes to making objects because we know players can find so many interesting ways to place and use them in game. That makes it a very fun challenge to make them work with everything else we’ve built before. Conor: What feature are you most excited to work on in Nifty Knitting Stuff? Beth: I’d say I am most excited to work on the rocking chairs! I love that we are bringing them to the game and can’t wait to see them in some cozy living rooms or on porches. Conor: What are some of the challenges you are facing working on this pack? Beth: One of the biggest challenges is ensuring that the knitting itself looks good and is fun to watch! This is a challenge given that it needs to work for everything you can create. Figuring this out takes a lot of iteration between modeling, animation, engineering, design, and art direction so that we come to a conclusion that will work the best given our time and technical constraints. Another interesting “challenge” is the fact that I crochet as a hobby myself! When you are knowledgeable about something (yarn!) in real life, working on it in the game it can sometimes be hard to separate the things you know and may expect in reality from what is possible or best within a video game. I have to make sure to keep a balance and to conceptualize how we can best convert the knitting experience into The Sims 4. As someone who also generally enjoys interior design and architecture, this is actually one of my favorite challenges and one of the things I love about working on objects in The Sims 4. Conor: What is your favorite feature you have ever worked on in The Sims 4? Beth: I think it has to be a tie between the mini fridge or the robotics table in Discover University. That pack was the first time I got to really take an entire feature from start to finish. I’ve been with Maxis for a while, but I’m relatively new to The Sims 4. Both of these objects had some complex features we wanted that required a lot of iteration. I learned a ton about the technical aspects of our game during the process as well. I’ve also worked on a few very cool things between then and now, but those can’t be shared yet ; ) As a fan of The Sims since the very beginning I am so happy to be able to share a little about what I do on a daily basis on The Sims 4 with you! I haven’t been on The Sims 4 for quite as long overall, but some of you may also recognize me from my time on Sims Mobile where I shared some of our workflows on Twitter for making a juice bar. Thanks! Conor: You shared a screenshot of the In-Progress Rocking Chair in our Rocking Chair Deep Dive. Can you share an updated screenshot now that the Rocking Chair is further along? Beth: I would love to! I hope everyone has been enjoying seeing the progress on this object so far! Here it is a little further along. This program allows us to set the rules for the object materials, footprint size and rig it should use, as well as all the color variants and swatch colors you see in the catalog.

Thanks Beth! By the way, Beth is on Twitter @SimGuruBeth, so be sure to Follow her! And thanks to all of you Simmers for following this pack’s development, this has been a really fun project in a very crazy time. A big thank you to my Stuff Pack teammates, and especially SimGuruSarah who edited my inane ramblings and wrangled the miscellaneous bits for these posts. While this concludes my design Deep Dives, we still have more forum posts with development insights on the way! Keep checking the Community Stuff Pack forum and we’ll have more fun stuff to show off in the weeks to come. Until next time, SimGuruConor

Source: The Sims Forum

Tokushima Shinbun Interview with Yano Shougo

Interviewing Yano Shougo-san, who has starred for the first time in the topical anime “Given” and is originally from Tokushima. “I wanted to be an actor that would make people go, ‘I’m glad I entrusted the role to him’.”

Yano Shougo-san (30), who is from Tokushima and belongs to the troupe Super Eccentric Theater (SET), played a starring role for the first time as a voice actor in the anime “Given”, which aired from July to September on Fuji TV. “Given” is a heartrending story that centers itself around a romance between men from the same rock band. Having received high evaluations for his acting and singing voice, which portrayed with excellence the delicate emotions of the protagonist, Satou Mafuyu, Yano-san has told us about the feelings he put into the role and about his future goals.

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——Good job on your first starring. Please tell us again about your impressions from when you were entrusted with the leading role.

Thank you very much. Playing a leading role in an anime series was my goal for 2019, so when my manager contacted me saying that I had passed the audition, I was happy to the point of shedding tears, but at the same time, I was also relieved. I could not sleep a wink the day before the recording of episode one, and at any rate, I was nervous. On the recording day, I was thinking as I headed to the studio, “It’d be great if the recording were tomorrow”, but I got over it a little by the moment that I thought, “If this anxiety would continue until tomorrow, then it’s actually better for it to be today!” and I remember relaxing straight away at it

——Yano-san, your fragile voice was a perfect fit for Mafuyu. What did you keep in mind when performing him? Were there any points that differed greatly in comparison to the roles you have been playing until now?

Mafuyu has an extremely painful past, unable to move a single step from where he was, as he bore a huge wound. Still, he has proper thoughts and feelings of his own, as well as a stubborn side, and though he has a mild and introverted personality, I figured that he was someone who had a strong core.

Other than that, when I saw him playing basketball with his friends, smiling and earnestly absorbing himself completely in music, I had the impression that he was a “high school boy that you can find anywhere”. This was something I always cherished when performing.

I have played uke roles before, but this was the first one where so many of my lines were “...” (laughs).

——What parts of Mafuyu do you think you have in common, Yano-san, and what parts are the total opposite of you?

I think we are just a little bit alike in that we are greedy about the things we like, and we are unable to concentrate on anything else when there is something that we need to do our best in order to achieve. What I feel to be the opposite is that Mafuyu gives off the impression that he is a big shot in some way, even without speaking much, while I am talkative and shy (laughs).

——You were also in charge of singing the insert song and ending theme song.

I knew ever since the audition phase just how essential Mafuyu’s song was for the series, so rather than my being happy about singing, the pressure was much more prominent. As a matter of course, the frequency of my voice training soon increased, and learned the basics and techniques of singing as much as time allowed me to. When I was first told about the composition, I thought, “This song was made for Mafuyu’s sake”. That is exactly why, rather than the technique, I reflected about why and how Mafuyu would be singing those lyrics, as well as the emotions that would be overflowing from him, and I thought I should sing it with care, without sugarcoating it.

——What did you keep in mind when singing as Mafuyu?

The song that Mafuyu sings bears his definite resolve to face his past and live in the present, thus I believed that I had to make it into something like a love confession, so to say - a song that could be sung because Mafuyu was the one doing it. For this, of course, technique was important, but I kept in mind that it would be okay even if it was rough-hewn or even if my voice faltered, as long as I sang in a way that would spit out everything Mafuyu had been shouldering.

——Although Noitamina has produced countless master piece animes, this has been their first Boys Love (BL), a series that depicts romance between males, so was there anything you were particularly conscious of when performing?

There was not. Just as I do when performing roles from other series, I performed while keeping in mind that I was going to live in the world of “Given” as Mafuyu with all my might.

——I believe there was such a huge response to “Given” due to its painful content, but did it get to your ears?

There are many fans of the original work not only in Japan but also overseas, so I became aware once again of the popularity of “Given”. That is just how high the expectations were for the anime adaptation, and I wanted people to like it even more when watching the anime, so I was truly happy when I actually did get evaluations like that on Twitter, etc.

——The airing of the anime “Given” is over, but a movie adaptation was green-lit. Please leave a message for the fans.

The story of “Given” will continue from now on too. I hope everyone can watch over what kind of sounds will come from Mafuyu’s song, Given’s (as in the band that Mafuyu and the others formed in the show) music and their romance from now onward.

——From here on out, Yano-san, I want to ask you about yourself. It seems you wanted to be an announcer at first.

I had the vague desire to move into the television business, and from yet another vague motive of wanting to become an announcer and engage with my favorite variety show, I started thinking in my third year of high school that I wanted to be an announcer.

——Why did you aim for voice actor from there?

After graduating from high school, I took a gap year in order to attend university, and during that time, I watched “Neon Genesis Evangelion” as per a friend’s recommendation, so with this as the trigger, I became interested in anime. I had almost never watched anime until then and was unfamiliar with voice actors, so I was shocked when I read in the end roll that Ogata Megumi-san was the one who played the role of Ikari Shinji, a boy, thus I became interested in them.

——Was there anything you put effort into in order to become a voice actor?

During my gap year, I watched many animes, looked up the voice actors that piqued my curiosity and imitated their acting, and performed lines from anime and manga with as much emotion as I could. I also bought a training book for becoming a voice actor and practiced enunciation while keeping it a secret from my family.

——What are the details of your joining SET?

I was was part of a the theater research association in university, but when I was in my fourth year, I once gave up the way of an actor and went job hunting. Even so, I wanted to have a job that was related to acting, so I took the recruitment test of a major production company hoping to become a manager, but during the individual interview, the person in charge told me, “Are you really all right with giving up on becoming an actor? If you want to be a voice actor, then go study theatre”.

And so, I began wanting to challenge myself one more time, so I stopped job hunting and after looking into audition magazines, I took an audition to become a research student of SET, where I could learn the essentials for musical, action and comedic theatre. I became a research student at 23, and after about a year of lessons and a graduation performance, I became an official member at the age of 24.

——Please tell us about the works and roles you did before your voice actor debut.

During my first year in becoming a troupe member, I played the role of Saburou, the protagonist of the TV anime “Nobunaga Kyousoukyoku”, as a motion actor - the kind of actor who does the gestures that are used as base for the characters’ movements.

I also participated in the troupe’s own public performance. It was a role where I had to drink coffee and say only one phrase, “It’s sweet”. It was a sentence that connected with a funny punchline, so I had been thinking all along about how I should act it out in order to induce laughter, and even during the performance, I did many attempts.

——After that, you debuted as a voice actor in the anime “Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V”.

When I was selected, I was really happy to be able to take the voice acting job that I had once given up on. I was brimming with confidence for some reason, even though I had no experience points. But when I went to the studio, I was no good at all; I would get nervous every week and had to stay overtime a lot, so I honestly hated going to the studio (laughs). Even so, thanks to the director and all the co-stars not throwing away someone like me, who did not know left and right, and instead nurturing me during the three years of “Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V”, I changed my thinking and posture in regards of acting.

——Afterward, you became capable of being entrusted with important roles, such as in “iDOLM@STER SideM” and “Tsurune —Kazemai Koukou Kyuudoubu—“, but were there any parts of them where you could feel your own growth?

In that I started thinking it was fun to perform. Even now, I still get nervous when going on-site, but as I would read the script, think about the role and create a foundation for my acting, I feel like I have become able to perform in front of the mic by responding to the acting of the person playing the other role, without thinking about unnecessary things, little by little. The moment I feel that the air has set to motion and it has turned into a drama is, if nothing else, enjoyable. I started having challenges, aspirations and goals for myself, such as, “I want to perform like this more” or, “I could bring this role into life more if I performed like that”.

——What are the fun and difficult parts of voice acting? Please tell us about your future goals too.

I believe the fun in being a voice actor is that we can perform roles that would be difficult in filming or on a stage.

There are many things that you can only learn in a recording site. When I go to them, I find a whole lot of people who are better at acting than I am, so I have to earn a role for myself. I fail most of my auditions and get depressed each time. Even so, I want to keep showing up in those series and play a role that moves the story. I always strongly think that I want to become an actor who can make people go, “I want to use Yano for this” and, “I’m glad I entrusted this role to Yano”.

——From now on, between actor and voice actor, which one to you plan to put more strength into?

Voice actor. That being said, in order to broaden my ranges as an actor too, I think I have to take on all kinds of jobs that require technique for different facial expressions on-stage. For us voice actors, charming people are mostly those who are also charismatic on the stage, so I think I also want to become a charming actor.

——Are you able to return to Tokushima regularly even now?

I make sure to go back as often as I can during summer vacation and New Years.

——Are there any parts of your life in Tokushima that have been put to good use in your acting jobs?

I seldom have any chance to come in contact with anything related to acting in Tokushima. Even if I had interest in voice actors and acting, wanted to attend a training school or thought about going to watch a play, they were all things that could not come true if I stayed in Tokushima. That is why I created many opportunities to come in contact with acting after moving to Tokyo, such as joining my university’s theatre research association and attending a school where I could study voice acting. I think I could cultivate something like a hungry spirit exactly because I used to live in Tokushima.

——If there is anything or any place in Tokushima that you like, please tell us.

Awa Dance, I guess. I did not like it that much when I was little, but after I became an adult, the group dance I watched from a box seat was stunning, and it made me so emotional that I started crying.

Also, the park that my grandfather often took me to when I was a child, though I don’t know if it still exists. I would put rice balls and pickled horseradish in a big plastic container and go there. I have memories of eating them with cold tea from a polyethylene teapot with my grandfather, after playing badminton. I want to do the same with my children and grandchildren when I become a parent and a grandpa.

——Yano-san, since you have made your dream come true, please leave a message to the young people who are chasing their dreams in Tokushima.

Time passes in a flash. For now, please do what you can with all your might. It can be anything, like classes, club activities, cultural festivals, sports festivals or romance.

If there is anything you can work your hardest in over there, please try facing it with all you have. It will certainly become a sustenance for your life from this point onward. I believe that it is better to do something and regret it than to regret not having done it.

Should there be anyone aiming to become an actor, please take action while constantly thinking about how you can get closer to the future that you have as your goal. I think there are surely many things you can do even if you are in Tokushima.

If you do not know what you should do after doing a research and reflecting on it, have courage and go consult someone who can give advice. Nothing is in vain, but rather than spending time not thinking about anything, I believe that spending time thinking about whatever is more worthwhile.

Please do your best. I will do my best too.

——Please leave a message for the fans who are cheering for you from Tokushima.

Thank you so very much for supporting me. The other day, when I took part in a recital play being held in Tokushima, I was able to show my acting to my family for the first time. They were very pleased.

Most events are held in the Tokyo Metropolitan Area, so I believe that people cannot go watch them even if they want to. My wish for more and more people to experience an event in Tokushima and see me working has become even stronger.

I will be doing my best from now on too in order to be able to take part in more series, play all kinds of roles, get to do an event in Tokushima again someday and have people come talk to me. I will be counting with your continued support from this point onward too.

I think it is time to say Goodbye.

Hello! Mod here, Tataia. I’ve come to make an announcement about the-space-lady and edgy-frenchman.

From this day on, I will not be updating these blogs anymore. I will be closing the inbox and delete all unanswered asks.

Don’t worry! They will still be up, you can come back to look through everything as many times as you’d like, but don’t expect any new posts in either blogs.

Now, we all know already that these blogs have been on an never ending hiatus, and it showed no signs of updating regularly like back in the day. So, let’s have a little (okay, kind of long) chat, about how this blog came to life, and how I am happy and thankful with everything that came from it.

Feel free to not read this at all, because it is kind of a long read.

If you have any questions, please send an ask to my main blog, @tataiafurquim​, and follow my twitter where I’m the most active, also going by the same username.

Three years ago, 2017, for the first time in the Brawlhalla history, there was a new legend leak! It was a picture taken with a phone of a monitor screen which showed the character selection screen in Brawlhalla, of the next legend in the default pose (the one that every legend has before getting their signature poses once they’re released); that was the first time everyone saw Artemis. BMG didn’t even announce her on dev streams by that point. The picture was shared in the r/Brawlhalla discord server, and, Calamari-Pop herself had tagged me to see it in one of the text channels, saying, ‘look! female Orion!’. Since I started playing the game, I’ve always been an Orion main, and once I saw Artemis for the first time, I felt like it was love at first sight.

I was instantly hyped for the character, while most people were complaining that ‘BMG had run out of ideas for new legends’, I couldn’t wait for her release, she was so beautiful, I never felt so hyped for something like I did for Artemis. I was probably the first person to make fanart for her and post it on r/Brawlhalla. People’s opinions on Artemis were very 50/50. People didn’t like her because ‘it’s just female Orion’, others genuinely liked her, and were excited to play with the next scythe legend.

I didn’t have many friends at the time who were into Brawlhalla, so for me the hype was kept mainly to myself, and of course, through my art. The picture we had of Artemis was very poor quality, so a lot of early art was missing a lot of details, but I didn’t care; I just kept drawing the only thing that was bringing me happiness.

I was a 14 year old when all of this happened, school was being very rough on me, back in the day I used to struggle so much to study, it was a pain to focus and learn, I’d always give up and go back to video games and art. My grades were horrible, I felt like my personal friendships were kind of faling apart, and so with my family. The only light at the end of the tunnel I had at the time, was the idea of making an ask blog for Artemis.

At first, I was skeptical. What if it flops? The Brawlhalla community wasn’t very active in other social medias, it was small, but everyone was close and if something big was announced, the word would spread fast. I mean, it was worth a short. Worse comes to worse, I delete the blog and move on. Ask blogs weren’t as popular as they were either.

I had claimed the URL even before Artemis was announced in a dev stream, so the blog was ready to go. I remember waiting a little more than a month when the patch of her release was finally online, and I did my move of announcing the blog in every social media I could, and so I waited for the community to show up.

And they didn’t stop coming! It was ask after ask, I was so happy, this little blog was my escape from the real world. Answering people as Artemis was honestly the most fun I was having during that year. And I could also draw her as much as I’d like! The blog was growing, and so was my audience of people who was genuinely following me for my regular art. Even when I was grounded because I did bad on a test, I still answered people with drawings made on paper.

Needless to say, this blog was definitely, a start for me in the Brawlhalla community. “Are you the person who draws a lot of Artemis?” “Yep! That’s me!” It was great, I felt like I was finally becoming someone somewhat important in a community like I always wished to, drawing what I loved, and people loved it. I even met my soon-to-be boyfriend through it!

But of course, that didn’t stop what was happening outside of the computer screen. Things were going even more downhill the more I focused on the internet and forgot about real life. It was helpless; there was no way I was passing that school year, I’d have to repeat it. My parents had decided that maybe one of the issues was that, my old school, was one of those schools that go really hard on the students, and that was not my place. So, the next year, 2018, I changed schools for the first time.

I’ve always had really bad anxiety. On the first day in the new school, you know what I did? I drew Artemis. What a surprise to nobody, but for me, this was my moment of realization, that this space lady from a fighting game, was my comfort character. This possibly canonically evil woman who wants to kill my main because of some fucked up shit he did in the past, was my comfort character. I was depressed? I drew Artemis. I was happy? I drew Artemis. I was extremely pissed off?? You guessed it! I drew Artemis! It is likely that a lot of pieces I made of her that I’ve posted online, were created from strong emotions I had while I drew it. There’s a lot that I didn’t even post either.

In 2018 I was still updating the blog, but I was also focusing a lot more on school. I was managing to get good grades, I made new friends, had new experiences, and my relationship with my family was getting better. Of course every year has its ups and downs, but overall, the important part, was finally being taken care of; I passed the school year, and then I passed again, and I passed again! I have just one more year to go, and hopefully, in 2021 I’ll be done.

Setting that aside, as the blog grew, my audience online did so too. My art improved, I’ve become, for the lack of a better word, an important member in the community. A lot of people have seen my art, and some of them probably don’t even follow me!

Today, I am a Brawlhalla Partner, I have a wonderful boyfriend, incredible friends, an amazing relationship with my family, and I am now hoping for a bright future of work ahead of me, and it was all thanks to this ask blog of a fictional character who I deeply loved. I would have never made it where I am today without Artemis, without Brawlhalla, without all of you. I could ever be thankful, and all I can give you all is more fanart of this amazing game that has completely changed my life, and with how Brawlhalla has been growing? Keep an eye on this one, it’s gonna get big.

Thank you so much everyone who has supported me over the years, and followed me more than just Artemis content. The updates on the blog have stopped because I’ve been focusing on other things. trying out new stuff and focusing on myself to become a better person and artist, creating my own stories with original characters, which I’m excited to share with all of you.

Anyway, take care, whoever read this far <3 Hopefully 2021 will be a better year for everyone.