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relastelvanni · 1 year

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📖 2022

The week leading up to Christmas 2021, I was unwell. I was feeling very fatigued and burnt out as we all were. There wasn’t a lot of sun so I was likely Vitamin D deficient, right? Also I somehow lost 10 lbs between October and December without trying which didn’t match what I was eating - probably stress? Oh, but I feel really thirsty, and I can’t seem to quench it… that’s an odd symptom I can’t explain with burnout. It was that symptom that made me test my fasting blood sugars and sure enough, they were way over into diabetic levels.

🚨

On Hogmanay as I rushed to get my booster before the bells, I also went to the GP as an emergency for my blood test. The results came back and my GP wanted to talk urgently. On Jan 5th I was officially diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes and put onto metformin straight away. This began a whirlwind of a year.

On the outside I seemed calm, on the inside I was a ball of emotion, but mostly shame. Shame that after years of warnings this could happen, I had to tell people what had happened. I felt guilt for making people around me worry for my health. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was okay and they didn’t have to worry about me. Maybe not a healthy attitude to take but from the moment I left that Doctor’s surgery and took a 2.5 mile walk home, I decided I was going for remission, end of.

I immediately went on a low carb diet of 130g of carbs a day and stuck to it religiously, I did not break 130g or tried not to. No cheat days, no snacking. Again, perhaps not the healthiest thing to do but I couldn’t bring myself to eat high carbs again. I started walking a lot more, walking three miles home from work in the winter. I went swimming, I got a bike through the cycle to work scheme. But most of all was the diet. It was tough and there were times I felt like crying. But my head told me “I put myself in this situation, you don’t deserve sympathy”. Urgh, silly head.

But despite that negative mindset, the physical side improved quickly. My sugars fell rapidly most importantly and as a by-product, I lost 15 lbs in the first month, followed by another 15 lbs in the second, starting at 255 lbs and ending March around 210.

Now those who know me will know I had no problem with my weight before - I was very happy as a chubby person because I went on a journey over the past few years of learning to love my body, throw off the shame I held against my body and show it off at the beach and the pool etc. So the weight loss for me was such a sudden shift in mindset too. I was back very quickly to a body I had before I learned to love my body… and societal pressure came back. That’s been a struggle this year is loving my new body without need for validation externally.

But in terms of the diabetes, by the end of March, I had my hbA1c checked again… and I was no longer diabetic! I had managed, with the tablets, to get the diabetes into remission. I can’t tell you how proud I am to have got to this point. All the hard work and hardship I put my mental state through was worth the result.

Over the next three months I relaxed the diet a wee bit and let myself eat a little more, but no where near the levels I was at before. My weight finally stabilised at around 180 lbs which is where I’m at now, meaning in total from max weight, I’ve lost 85 lbs in the last year. But more importantly, at the end of June, my HbA1c was still at a non diabetic level, this time without medication.

Since June, my weight has been stable, my sugars are still down, I’ve taken up badminton 2-3 times a week to keep me active physically (and mentally too). I feel fantastic physically and I’m so happy I’ve managed to turn around the diabetes. I still need to work on my mental state and work on some of those troublesome feelings I had at the start of the year as well as others. But aye, long post, but I’m still here, still going. Hopefully 2023 I’ll stay in remission. All the best to everyone 💛

#me #gpoy #gay bear #gay cub #tummy #non binary #queer

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recurring-polynya · 3 months

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Writing/Art Update 01.23.2024

Me, Oct 24, 2023:

This is the sort of thinking that leads to 100k fanfic. I will try to come up with things to fill the space and then I will have too much stuff. That's just how it is, I guess. Wouldn't it be nice if this could just be, like, 60k, and I could be almost done?

Me, Nov 28, 2023:

I think that once I figure this out it will either be a clear path from now to the end and probably be like 8 or 9 chapters + an epilogue OR it will spiral wildly out of control, some other fucking subplot will sneak in, and it will go 12+ chapters and I will cry a lot.

Me, Jan 9, 2024:

Either that, or I'll just keep writing chapters, like Zeno's fanfic. I sincerely hope that doesn't happen. I will die.

Me, today:

Fuck.

So the good news is that I have finally finished the scene that I have been wrestling with since early December. It's two scenes now, because I wanted to swap narrators halfway thru, but it's really the same scene.

The less good news is that this came out 🎵8721 words🎵 and I still have three more scenes budgeted for this chapter in the outline. I mean, on one hand, at least I produced a significant amount of something for as long as that took. On the other hand, I feel like this dumb thing is now growing faster than I can write it. I've only made it up to roughly 11am on Saturday (the fanfic ends early Monday morning). Maybe it's not as bad as I think. I still haven't decided if Chapter 7 is just going to be super long, or if I am going to bump the other three scenes to the next chapter. I am putting that decision off until I actually write them and probably also most of Chapter 8. Mostly, I am just hoping I don't to add another chapter to the outline (I strongly suspect I am going to have to add another chapter--#11-- to the outline).

None of this will matter when it's done! I don't actually care how long the thing comes out (that's your problem, reader, I simply love big numbers). It's just that I want to be done, and the longer this gets, the further away that feels.

I haven't done a top level word count in a while because I've been working in messy temp documents, but I finally pasted my new scenes back into the main doc. Part B currently stands at 27,724, for a running total of 64,597, which makes it my fifth longest fanfic at roughly 2/3 done. There's kind of a ways to go before it overtakes Between Tides, but I think it might just happen.

Gosh, y'know, it's honestly kind of surprising I got as much writing done this week as I did, considering my kids were home nearly the whole week between snow days and a planned asynchronous day. Am I back on my groove? I sure fucking hope so.

I kept up with my drawing reasonably well, too--it was baked goods week. I did one tutorial, two one-day scribbles, and I drew last week's cake in the style of a GBBO illustration, which took me 3 days, but I'm really happy with the way it came out (so, 6 out of 7 days, I guess). I have another fanart (or possibly two) that I'd like to do in time for Byakuya's birthday, so that's probably what I will focus on this week.

#writing update #art update

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signoraviolettavalery · 8 months

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I do believe it is time for the next installment of @touchyourblood 's and my vampire!Bojan AU - or at least, one version of it, wherein Jan is an undercover hunter who joins the band.

This is part 2 - one of my favorites, but also one of the angstier ones.

After their late-night heart-to-heart, Jan and Bojan return home and call a meeting of the band.

"He knows," is all Bojan says. Shocked, slightly horrified stares from all of them.

"I didn't tell him," Bojan adds. "He figured it out."

Jan repeats his soft-of-true story about how he's had an encounter with a vampire before and put two-and-two together.

"And?" Kris presses. The others look at him, worried. "You seem rather calm about this."

"I'm not scared of Bojan," Jan says. "I care about him, and the rest of you. I won't tell anyone, and I'd like to stay and be part of the band."

They agree, and give Jan a rundown of how they do things: they take turns being the ones Bojan feeds on. He only needs to do it once a week, and he only ever takes from the wrist for their safety. (Jan, who's seen Bojan feed and also in other contexts, thinks he's the most disciplined man he's ever seen, and that precaution is probably unnecessary). Most vampire myths are a lie, but they do have to be careful about silver and sacred ground. ("Glasgow must've been uncomfortable?" Jan asks. "Oh yeah," Nace says.)

And things really don't change much after that, except it's a relief to Bojan to not have to hide. ("I hid that part of myself because I didn't want you to be afraid of me," Bojan admits once). They don't have to keep the feedings a secret, though they're still discreet. They work together better than ever.

One day, Bojan seems especially tired. He's been puttering around the house, until, with a big sigh, he lies down on the couch, his head in Kris' lap (Jan is on a neighboring couch, strumming his guitar).

"When's the last time you fed?" Kris asks.

"Thursday."

"It is Thursday."

"Last Thursday, then."

Kris sighs and offers a wrist. "Drink," he says, in a tone that doesn't invite protest.

Bojan protests anyway. "I can't. We have a concert tomorrow, and you heal the worst."

"Yes, we have a concert tomorrow, and you need your strength for it, which means you need to feed."

"He can feed on me," Jan breaks in.

They turn to him, Bojan full of concern. "You don't know what you're offering," he says.

Jan, who's seen Bojan feed more than once, just smiles. "I have some idea," he says. "Besides. Your other friends volunteered, why can't I?"

"You have to be sure," Bojan says, panic almost edging into his voice. "Really sure." And Jan realizes just how scared Bojan is to show his 'monstrous' side.

"I am sure," he says, sitting down next to Bojan on the couch.

"It's easier if it's your right wrist," Kris offers. "For guitar playing, I mean."

Kris would know, of course.

Jan extends an elegant wrist that Bojan takes just as delicately. He hesitates, and Jan thinks he'll require more convincing. But after a second, Bojan lets his fangs extend and his eyes turn red.

It's...a sight. Jan's seen vampires look like that before, but not Bojan. It's a little frightening, to see a monstrous face on his friend. But instead of attacking his wrist, Bojan bites gently, carefully. It almost doesn't hurt, and Jan leans back into the cushions and lets his friend drink. He's expecting to get a little dizzy from the blood loss, but Bojan pulls away before he starts feeling anything close. Jan blinks.

"That can't have been enough," he says, as Bojan licks the last drops from his wound and it seals itself, like it's a few hours old.

"He never takes enough," Kris says. "You have to make him drink more."

"It's his first time. I took enough," Bojan says. He takes the bandage Kris offers (they keep them around the house for situations like this) and gently, carefully binds Jan's wrists. He doesn't let go when he's finished, but caresses his knuckles and looks him in the eyes. "Thank you," he says, sincerely.

And how could Jan have ever thought this man could be a monster? How could he have even considered the possibility? He's the furthest thing from it.

"Anytime," he says with a smile, and means it.

And, should you be inclined in the slashy direction (this is the only somewhat romantic bit and is more implication than anything)...

one night, the two of them are kissing, Bojan having pushed Jan back onto a couch. Jan's head is thrown back, Bojan is kissing his neck, licking it, but of course he's not going to bite, he'd never endanger his friend like that.

Except in that moment Jan says "you can. I trust you."

And Bojan, in that moment of intimacy...does, against his better judgment.

The next morning, Jan has a giant bite on his neck and they're all getting breakfast and Kris sees it and turns to Bojan. "you bit his neck??"

Jan: it's fine, I can wear a sexy little scarf

Kris: that's not the main issue and you know it

Bojan tries to agree with Kris, it was reckless and irresponsible and he should've known better, should've had better control but Jan isn't having any of it.

"It was my idea. I'm responsible for my own decisions. I told you I trust you, and you proved I was right."

But Kris is still concerned. "he did stop, right? You didn't have to pull him off?

Jan: for fuck's sake. It was my choice, it's not like he attacked me and fed. And he didn't come close to taking too much. In fact he stopped sooner than I frankly wanted him to."

Nace: that's ...sweet?

And it's all beautiful and wonderful and fine until Bojan goes into Jan's room, which had been Martin's room, looking for some old guitar paddle boards that he'd left behind in the closest or something, and finds....a hunter's kit stashed away there. One that Jan had practically forgotten about, hasn't thought about using in months. It comes cascading down on him, stakes and holy water and other things, just as Jan walks in with a "what are you doing?"

"I was looking for some of Martin's old equipment, but, well." He gestures at the contents of a hunter's kit scattered on the floor.

"I can explain - " Jan begins.

"So all this time, you were just...biding your time? Gathering intelligence, I presume, and making plans to rid the world of a monster?"

"No!" Jan says, forcefully. "I don't think you're a monster. I haven't for a long time. I came here believing that and looking for proof of it, because the only other vampire I've ever encountered definitely was a monster. He nearly killed my family in front of my eyes. But the more I got to know you, the more I saw who you really were. You became my friend I care for you. I trust you. I'd never hurt you, I swear."

"You let me feed from your neck," Bojan says. "What was that? Were you fucking with me? Trying to prove how tough you are?"

That, more than anything, breaks him. It was the ultimate form of intimacy for Bojan and display of trust for Jan. It was vulnerability, showing his "monstrous" side, exposing what he sees as the worst of himself, the part he fears makes him unlovable, and having it accepted. And suddenly it seems like some kind of sick game.

"No," Jan helplessly insists. "I let you do it because I trust you with my life. I wanted it. It was real, I swear it was real."

Bojan shakes his head. "Real," he says bitterly. "I trusted you. I told you about my worst fears. While you were watching and deciding whether I get to live? Taking it upon yourself to be judge, jury, and executioner and it's all supposed to be okay because you decided that I do deserve to be alive?"

And that cuts deep, floors Jan. Because isn't that what happened? He came here with an intent to kill, thinking he had the right to play god. And he might not have killed, but he took it upon himself to have that power, while basking in Bojan's trust and affection.

"I'm sorry," Jan says. "Truly. And I'll do anything to fix this. Just tell me what to do."

Bojan just shakes his head. "I have no reason to believe a single word you're saying, and I don't know if I'd ever be able to trust you again."

(in another of the million variations we had in this scene, Bojan says something like

"so if I were really the monster that you think I am, what do you think I'd do now? I'd kill the person intent on killing me, right? "pin you down, drain you of blood, make sure you can never harm me again. Isn't that what a monster like me would do in this situation?"

"I don't think you're a monster. I haven't for a long time," Jan says.

"Is that ...is that supposed to make me feel better? Is that supposed to make it okay that you came here to kill me?"

"No," Jan agrees. "You have every right to be angry, and upset. I know you feel betrayed and can't possibly trust me anymore but. What we had, the friendship, the late-night conversations, the intimacy...for me, all that was real. And I'll do anything to fix this.")

(in yet another variation, Bojan picks up one of the stakes and holds it to his heart while stepping close to Jan.

"Go on, then," he challenges, looking painfully resigned. "Do it."

Jan shakes his head, has no intention of doing it, obviously, is begging Bojan to put it down, when the others walk in. See Bojan holding a stake to his own chest, the moment clearly heated, and assuming Jan has threatened one of them. Knowing Bojan would drive a stake through his own heart to protect his own friends.

"It's not what it looks like -" Jan protests, but they ignore him, grab Jan (who doesn't resist, and tell Bojan to drop the stake.

"Don't do it. Whatever he threatened, we're not afraid. We stick together." Which makes Jan feel even worse.)

Essentially, Bojan asks for space from Jan, to begin with. Which Jan of course respects. He tells the others what happened, and that makes them furious. Jan is desperately trying to convince them, too, that he's changed, of his true intentions, but they don't want to hear a word he has to say

"He actually felt confident enough to tell US to relax! Do you have ANY idea how much that meant to him?" Kris demands.

"you made Bojan so happy. You were good for him. And it was all a ploy? Disgusting."

one of the others adds "he'd have died for you, and this is how you treat him?"

And on that angsty note, I will end :)

#vampire!bojan

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daisyishedwig · 7 months

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Fic writers tag

I was tagged by @kurtsascot, thank you for the tag!

And I'm tagging @calsvoid and @lusthurts and anyone else who wants to participate.

1. how many works do you have an ao3?

I have 37 on AO3 and 80 on FF.net, and most things from my AO3 are on FF excluding like 3 fics. I'm including my FF account because that's where I started posting many many years ago and continued to update until a couple yers ago when I transferred to just posting on AO3. There is a lot of fics on my FF that I haven't crossposted to AO3 yet, and some I probably never will.

2. whats your ao3 word count?

AO3 is 217,634 and FF.net is 287,357

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Nowadays, just Glee, though I do have some WIPs for Stranger Things, Captive Prince, Magnus Archives, and Hatcetfield that I do want to post /someday/. When I started I wrote Supernatural. And over the years I've also written Doctor Who, Takin Over the Asylum, Harry Potter.

4. top 5 fics by kudos

Not So Dapper, Dare, and This Isn't Love all tie for first place with 171. Then there is Chance at 164, I'm Never Letting You Go at 157, Don't You Dare at 150, and Don't Tell Me What You're Thinking at 144.

On FF.Net (by favorites) its The Thoughts I Can't Deny at 163, The Unspoken Rule at 120, A Strange Realization at 142, Icy Love at 101, and Maybe We Can Be Okay at 93.

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I certainly try! I'm always torn between giving hints and secrets and wanting to keep everything close to my chest so the closer someone is to guessing a big plot point or asking a question that I can't answer without spoiling, the less likely I am to respond. Which is why I'm better at responding on one shots, because there's nothing to spoil!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ohhhh, probably Say Your Name While Our Tongues Are Tied. There's probably a Blangst fic from back in the day that has a sadder ending, but they're usually at least hopeful. Say Your Name just feels very helpless, like it's hard to envision a world where anyone walks away from this situation happy, you know?

7. whats the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

A Place To Call Home, probably, even though I haven't posted it yet. The Thoughts I Can't Deny probably would have if I'd actually written an ending for it, lol. Tear Down My Reason is definitely very happy, and I Could Touch the Teardrops on Your Face is probably the sappiest ending.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I know I have in the past but I don't remember for what or why, which means it probably didn't really stick with me. And from what I do remember I think it was largely from people who didn't like the characters or ships I was writing about and would come to bitch about that and I'd be like, if you hate Blaine Anderson so much, why are you reading a Klaine fic? I do kind of remember a Kurtofsky shipper coming to complain about how "abusive" Blaine is and I was just like, sure, Jan, when you ship Kurt with the person who threatened to kill him, you definitely have a leg to stand on.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I don't as much as I used to and I actually tend to skip over it a lot. I've been much more into the emotional aspect and only really write the sex if I feel like it will add to the heart of what I'm writing.

But oh boy did I used to. And when I did it was pretty much exclusively D/s and kink stuff, and even when it wasn't there would at least be some form of powerplay or marking in an otherwise vanilla scene, just so my kinky brain would have something to latch onto.

10. do you write crossovers? whats the craziest one youve ever written?

Only on occasion? Like I'm currently working on a White Collar/Glee fic and a Magnus Archives/Hatchetfield fic. Aside from that it will be more like just an AU or inspired by a different media. So like, Sebastian Smythe is the flash, but other characters from The Flash don't really appear. Or my Mrs. Winterbourne Seblaine AU. Or the Spies Are Forever inspired Seblaine AU I have currently only managed to write 300 words in.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have. I remember someone turning the original Icy Love (which I still haven't crossposted to AO3, oops) into a Larry fic. And I know I've seen some of my stuff around any time there's a new website stealing things from AO3 and putting it behind a paywall. But at some point I got to lazy to care.

I did have a scare a litte while ago where I thought someone had stolen one of my fics because someone commented saying they'd read it under the username comewhattklaine before and I was like I have /never/ used that username before. I've used a lot of pennames over the years but never that one and I went absolutely crazy trying to find where someone with that username at stolen my fic. And then I realized that on my old Scarvesandcoffee account, I had used that name, but that website had been dead for so long i'd forgotten about it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

I feel like I have but I cant for the life of me remember what.

13. have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes! @itallstartedwithharry and I wrote Tear Down My Reason together. It was an absolutely incredible experience and I always wish that she had the time to write together again because we worked so well together. I was really good at word vomiting on the page and she was really good at cleaning it up and making it more coherent and actually sounding nice. Which is part of why I still ask her to beta for me on fics that are really important to me because she tends to just get what I'm trying to say better than I do sometimes. Like she's been absolutely incredible with betaing A Place to Call Home for me and I'm so glad to have her because she just makes me a better writer.

14. fave all time ship?

Okay. This one is complicated. Because Klaine was my otp to end all otps for so many many years. Klaine means the world to me, it was so incredibly important to me as a teenager and to me accepting my own queerness and feeling safe to come out to my mom (because we bonded a lot over shipping Klaine) and I have written hundreds of thousands of words about those two.

But Seblaine. Ohmygod Seblaine. I have reached a point in my life where my brain is more interested in the kind of stories those two can supply me. In this concept of quantum entanglement that will always pull them together but never ever let it be /easy/ for them. There's just some ways in which I think they're better for each other, I think in some ways they bring out the worst in each other, but that in turn allows to them to truly see the best in each other too. I think the tragedy of their story as it happened is beautiful and cruel. And I just want to explore every crevice of their brains and to never let them go. At some point, Klaine became too easy. They'll always get their happy ending (at least in canon). But Seblaine never will. And the art that can be made from a relationship like that intrigues me far more.

15. wip you want to finish but doubt you will?

Probably La Pute. Of all my old WIPs, it's the most likely to be finished (because I do have some pretty extensive notes on how the plot was supposed to go). But at the same time, that kind of fic that I loved to read and write when I was young (dubcon, noncon, slave fics, etc.) just doesn't interest me the way it used to.

If I were to psychoanalyze myself i'd probably say that my love for stories like that was deeply derived from my sexual repression and inner angst (largely driven by vast amounts of untreated mental illness) that I had no real life experience to draw from so I just used these dark dark stories as a way to try and release any of those emotions. But now as an adult I've lived through many traumas and general life shittiness and I can now find a release for my inner turmoil in writing about things more close to life instead of having to reach into that level of darkness.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Oh I don't even know. I think probably dialogue? That's what usually comes the easiest to me so it's what I would assume, but I'm honestly not sure.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

I tell more than I show. Like I try to describe body language and expression in a way that isn't just "he shifted anxiously" "He looked pissed", stuff like that. But I'm just not great at it, so I tend to just tell the reader what a character is feeling more than anything else.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I'm always drawn to the idea of doing it, but I don't just want to like copy and paste the lines into google translate, you know? And I don't speak any other languages and most of the friends I have that do speak the languages I would want to translate lines into (namely Tagolog and French) aren't Glee fans, so I don't want to make them translate for me.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Unpublished? Inuyasha/Naruto/Harry Potter/Bleach/probably some other things. I wrote a very extensive self insert fic when I was like 9 or 10 that involved all of those fandoms but it never even got typed up and I lost the binder I was keeping it in probably nearly two decades ago.

Published though it was definitely Supernatural.

20. fave fic youve written?

A Place To Call Home was such a long endeavor and something that was very important to me to finish and it means a lot to me to have finally finished it.

Maybe We Can Be Okay is probably one of my most well-received fics considering the dark content and complex themes. And I'm still really proud of it.

And then it's not out yet, but my fic for the I Want You Back day of 10 Days of Seblaine has been a very difficult fic to write but I'm really happy with how its turning out and I can't wait to share it with you all in November.

#personal #daisyishedwig writes #glee #seblaine #klaine #sebklaine

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laurolive · 6 months

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Paul and Linda, a collection of PDAs: Part 5 - Miscellaneous

Her head on his shoulder, looks and smiles and touches, dancing together, cheek to cheek, etc.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder

1969

1970 Scotland

Late 1970 or early 1971 Working on the album Ram. Rest your chin on my shoulder. 🧡

March 1971 Malibu, California. A tender pose during photo shoot for April 16, 1971, issue of Life Magazine. Photo by Henry Diltz. 💕

Feb. 12, 1975 New Orleans.

1975. See the unedited pic (which shows a fan standing on Paul’s right) on linda mccartney daily page on Twitter.

May 26, 1976 en route to New York’s LaGuardia Airport. Photo by Harry Benson. Benson says of this photo: “That’s a nice picture, and it’s rather touching,” Benson says. “And that’s what you’re looking for — the warmth. They really like one another.”

1984 Linda resting her head on Paul’s shoulder (well, close enough to the shoulder). Photo by Terry O’Neill.

The Looks(s) of Love

Jan. 1969, as seen in the documentary Get Back (2021)

1970 London

Mar. 16, 1971 Backstage at the Grammy Awards. Paul, John, and George won the award for best original score written for a motion picture or TV special (for the film Let It Be). Paul accepted on behalf of all of them. A loving aura surrounds this moment, as Paul and Linda must feel especially blessed being expectant parents (Linda is pregnant with Stella here).

1971 during photo shoot for Wings’ Wild Life album.

1973 Lagos, Nigeria. Still from a video made during recording of Band on The Run. The way he’s looking at her … sigh. 🥰

1973 Gazing into each other’s eyes 😍

I’m Happy Just to Dance with You

July 12, 1972 Juan-les-Pins, France. Dancing on the top deck of the Wings over Europe tour bus.

Oct. 2, 1974 London premiere of the movie That’s Entertainment. Here’s a picture that truly conveys how much they enjoy being together.

Playing with Hair

Jan. 1969 From the documentary Get Back. Paul gently strokes Linda’s golden tresses. I bet anyone who saw them interacting like this could tell that they were serious about each other.

1970 Paul still running his hands through Linda’s blonde locks.

Always Gotta Be Touching

1972 on the top deck of the Wings over Europe tour bus. Always touching, here’s the couple with Paul’s hand on Linda’s knee. Maybe that’s for practical reasons to keep Linda’s dress from from flying up in the wind; 😎 but that doesn’t mean it can’t be an affectionate gesture as well.

Also, it may look like Paul’s arm is halfway inside the bodice of Linda’s dress. 🥺 Zoom in and you will see that is not the case and that his arm is actually resting behind her. Besides, as demonstrative as they are, I doubt the couple would pose for a photo of Paul feeling up Linda, lol. 🤣 😆🤭

May 24, 1976 Madison Square Garden, New York. Prior to their concert, the band members meet with 300 members of the Daily Mirror Pop Club. A triplet of gestures of affection are on display here: head leaning on shoulder, hands around arm, and hand on leg. Lovely! 😊 🥰 ☺️

1976 Wings concert. Heh heh, Paul — you probably thought the camera wouldn’t catch that. 😍 🤭

1980 at their home in East Sussex, England. I don’t know if this was an interrupted hug or if they were in the middle of dancing, but it looks romantic enough to go on this blog. 🥰

1985 Ear nibble (okay, ear bite — but done with love I’m sure 😘). Photo by Terry O’Neill.

1990 Paul must have delicious ears. 😊 Photo by Bill Bernstein.

Cheek to Cheek

1974. We’re watching you watching us.

1974 Photoshoot for the Apr. 7, 1974, issue of New York News magazine. The cover story was "Just an Old Fashioned Beatle: An Exclusive Visit with Linda and Paul McCartney."

Magazine article: @johnflyons.beatles on instagram

1990s. Can’t resist that baby face. 👶 😘

Date unknown, guessing 1990s from the hairstyles. Linda looking particularly radiant.

#paul mccartney #linda mccartney #linda and paul #paul and linda #paul and linda romantic #paul and linda mccartney #paul and linda forever #linda louise mccartney #linda eastman mccartney #linda mccartney and wings #lovely linda

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 1 year

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well I've had an interesting first week of the year back at work. I managed to get through to my usual doctor this week, which is a bit of a miracle, considering she's always back late jan/early feb each year. she's recommended 3 places for me to ring to follow up on a probable ADHD diagnosis. the best one is one in Sydney, in Bondi.

but to do all of their tests would mean I'd try to jam them into a week, if I could (probs not let's be real), or each time I do one I spend on a hotel room to stay up there, since I just wouldn't feel bothered to the 2 hour drive home after 8 hours of tests. but the Sydney one gives you a brain scan which would be super cool. but also if you managed to get bulk billed, it's $1,200. also they don't focus on meds, they focus on "brain based" and behaviour change stuff.

the other 2 places are local to my area, but you have to ring to find out their prices. but on the other hand, my doc said to leave all this stiff until after I have my colonoscopy that's booked for a couple weeks from now, on the 16th.

work is better since I'm not at a tired low point like I was at the end of last year. my boss is a bit happier that I'm turning up at the office at around 8:50 roughly and set up by 9. but yeah I hate having to cut my pre work bed relax after my bath each morning to 7:15 to get out the door by 8;20. but rn 8:20 is only working bc it's the school holidays so I'm not locked into the mronjng school run traffic and school zones right next to my house (basically). so it means I will have to bother to leave at 8:15 or whatever when school starts back up again on jan 31st.

but yeah. I still haven't handed in any of my unfinished (or unstarted) cadestship assessments; bc I forgot right before we left of chrissy/NY break to ask our outsourced IT guys to set up our VPN access app (it just gives you a code to type in) on my phone to access the work hard drive at home lmao. so I've meant to start this week, but I just haven't.

aside from work, the other interesting thing is that someone from the catholic school I went to for years 7-10 from 2008 til 2011, decided to invite me to a 10 year reunion that someone else from our year group from that school set up on Tuesday on fb for October this year. and I was just so surprised that someone bothered to remember me and invite me.... and I feel kinda touched tbh lol. bc i didn't even graduate with them properly, in a way, in 2013, bc I obvs graduated at the public school that I transferred to. it's so random that someone thought to invite me all these years later.

and I'm also stressing over the event a little. mostly on the level of what to wear to it, obvs lmao. but also, most of these people are successful working in good jobs. or they run their own successful local businesses/take over their parentd businesses.

while, on the other hand. I finish my cadetship in march, and I have no idea whether i'll be kept on where I am or whether I'll be somewhere else or jobless lmao. but anyway. it's going to be so weird seeing anyone from that school again, when half of them have kids and are married now or some have even divorced or split from their partners that they married in our early 20s (or at least that's what I've deduced from their name changes on fb back to their original last name I knew them by in school).

also im bitterly jealous of a few of them because they've bought their first house or have a second house and are using their first as an investment property. like bruh. am I the only one who still hasn't moved out of home yet??? and obvs there are obvs other people renting but still. am i the only one still at home??? I don't want questions about that tbh.

like is it even worth catching up with these people, when I still remember the derision I got from one of the girls from my group from that school, when I ran into her at uni back in 2016??? how she told me that everyone was actually SO GLAD that I'd left bc apparently they were all secretly harbouring embarrassment for my behaviour and my "attention seeking" or whatever the fuck she said to me???? but also part of me hopes that rich boy goes and is happy to see me and I'll get to congratulate him in person on his engagement or perhaps being married by the time this event happens (if it even does lmao). and that's my other thing. could just be an elaborate joke where they do this, and I turn up, but NO ONE is there???? like hello trust issues, aren't you looking very sexy this week.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona's work thoughts

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dancer-subclarington · 1 year

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TEXTS: KYLA & BRIAR

Kyla: I get to leave this prison

Briar: How?

Kyla: Field trip

Briar: Less sucky than the last one?

Kyla: Thankfully. We’re going to London on Jan 3rd, coming back the 10th. Which means you have that long to get to London.

Briar: Im home

Kyla: And they don’t have flights from Canada to London?

Briar: Im home for the holidays

Kyla: The holidays are over!

Briar: New Years is a holiday.

Kyla: We both know you’ll be out on New Years, you don’t need to be home with family

Briar: I know the bars and clubs here.

Kyla: Im pouting

Briar: Oh no

Kyla: It’ll be in January. New Years will be over. So. I’ll see you in London.

Briar: You really want to be doing dance stuff on vacation?

Kyla: Vacation is for doing stuff you love and I love dance

Briar: You’re adorable. But wrong. Vacation is for sex. Sex and shopping and drinking.

Kyla: You said the academy is for sex

Briar: Which is true

Kyla: And being away from the academy is also about sex?

Briar: Yes

Kyla: How does that make sense?

Briar: Sex doesn’t have to make sense.

Kyla: Ugh

Briar: I’ll drop by if you promise to let me watch you have fun

Kyla: This again? Its been 4 years

Briar: You went out in college and did fun things but I’ve only ever seen you do dance things.

Kyla: So your criteria to come see me is that I dress slutty and go drinking?

Briar: That’s a good start

Kyla: Start? Babe that’s the whole thing

Briar: What? No.

Kyla: Why do you think Im a fun person?

Briar: Bc you let me ask your bf 3 questions

Kyla: I dont remember that being one of them

Briar: Because you walked away and insisted that I never tell you what I asked him

Kyla: Bc I assumed it would be dirty!

Briar: Oh it was, I assure you. But then he and I started talking and I learned some things

Kyla: I never said you 2 could TALK

Briar: Yeah i know, you told us not to talk to each other

Kyla: Bc i knew you wouldn’t behave!

Briar: And you were right. So now I know your kinks and some other stuff.

Kyla: You’re annoying

Briar: I can live with that. If I go to London, you’re going to behave like that sorority babe I never actually got to meet

Kyla: It was different then

Briar: Doesn’t have to be! You had a sexy bf and you were still out there drinking and flirting and such

Kyla: He knew about it

Briar: Duh, that’s how I found out, we just covered this.

Kyla: Fine. Whatever. I’ll dance and flirt and get people to buy things for me.

Briar: And do stupid dares?

Kyla: Well I always do that

Briar: Good. Pinky promise all of this.

Kyla: Come on

Briar: You won’t break a pinky promise because you’re a small child

Kyla: Ughhhhh. Fine. Pinky promise. One night. And I have a curfew.

Briar: Wtf

Kyla: 11. Also I can’t go anywhere without another student.

Briar: 11? Buddy system? What are you, 15?

Kyla: I’m a student

Briar: You were a student in college, too. What was your sorority’s curfew?

Kyla: I was technically underage, so 1 for me, 2 for others.

Briar: You’re staying out later than 11

Kyla: Absolutely the hell not

Briar: Who says that? You still dont say fuck?

Kyla: Nope

Briar: Aiden said you say it during sex

Kyla: UGHHHHH

Briar: 😁

Kyla: Well that means you’ll never hear it

Briar: I’ll go with girls if it also involves a guy. Anyone willing at your school?

Kyla: No one Im prepared to ask.

Briar: You are so damn boring.

Kyla: You’re just sex obsessed. Now which classes will you take with me?

Briar: If we’re going to be together, we’re teaching classes not taking them. A full day of classes

Kyla: I have to have a student with me. I can convince someone to watch me dance for a bit but Im not gonna ask someone to sit around for 10 hours while I teach classes. What’s wrong? Can’t dance anymore?

Briar: Shut up

Kyla: We’re taking classes, its much more fun than teaching. Plus we can film the combos together and post it which will fuel signups

Briar: It probably wont

Kyla: It will if we include an improv section

Briar: Fine. But you also need to have sex. You like fairytales. Far off romantic land, exotic accents, yummy treats.

Kyla: Why are you concerned with my sex life?

Briar: Your dad is sexist so I assume you were raised to believe that sex is a chore that you must do

Kyla: I like sex

Briar: Good. Have a lot of it. It builds strength if you do it in fun positions

Kyla: You do strength positions, I’ll stick to flexible ones

Briar: Said like a loser who won’t get her 540

Kyla: Choreography doesn’t even call for girls to do 540s!

Briar: I know some girls here who can do it

Kyla: Because you all grow up wrestling mooses and lugging around axes!

Briar: You know girls who can do it too

Kyla: Only 3! And one of them is you!

Briar: Right, right. I can do it. You can’t. Remind me, do you like that?

Kyla: Do you like not being able to change spotting directions a million times when you turn?

Briar: See? You can fight through being boring.

Kyla: Point taken

Briar: Aiden told me you can do the luge really well

Kyla: Im ok at it

Briar: You were famous for it

Kyla: I left you two alone for like 5 minutes!

Briar: Yep. You’re gonna race everyone in the bar.

Kyla: Everyone who’s there before its even 10:30 yet? Easy.

Briar: Just for that Im putting fireball in it

Kyla: You say that like you want me to be too messed up to have sex with one of my roommates.

Briar: Tell me about this roommate. Is he hot?

Kyla: Very. It’s a girl though

Briar: Whatever works for you. If I go to London, do I get to meet your brothers?

Kyla: No

Briar: Why

Kyla: You can meet Gunner

Briar: Why Gunner?

Kyla: Bc he’s gay. Completely gay. You only want to meet them so you can have sex with them

Briar: Yeah so?

Kyla: Not happening!

Briar: Annoying

#/posting cuz this one has something to do with the plot for once #text: briar #texts #events #london field trip #about kyla #extras

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longlivebatart · 10 months

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Episode 2- Twelfth Night

Welcome to Long Live Bat Art, the podcast for art lovers who don’t see art as much as they want to. My name is Sydney and thank you for taking this slow tour through an art gallery with a casual art lover. Today, I’ll be talking about Twelfth Night by Jan Steen. I hope you enjoy.

Jan Steen was born in Leiden in 1626. Twenty years later he went to Leiden University, which is why we know his birth year- the rest of the details of his birth are a mystery. Because he was college educated, he was exposed to literature and mythology outside of his own Catholic mythology.

In 1648 he, along with Gabriel Metsu, founded the ‘Painters’ Guild of St. Luke’ in that city. St. Luke is the patron saint of artists, which makes him the prime candidate for having an artists’ guild named after him. His teachers included Nicolaus Knupfer, Adriaen van Ostade, and Jan van Goyen. He ended up marrying the daughter of van Goyen, Margriet.

Steen was inspired by not only history and mythology but also by real life, especially those who tend to poke fun at real life. He painted a few pieces about Rhetoricians, who were actors in the theater. That isn’t surprising, considering that his uncle was a Rhetorician in Steen’s home town. There’s a few pieces of other evidence that Steen drew from theater and actors rather than real life- several of his paintings show so-called doctors who often make false diagnoses. These doctors are shown dressed in the way of a century before, which makes a valid argument for being a man dressed in a costume of a doctor rather than an actual medical professional.

Steen likely didn’t have very many students. In fact, only a single painter is speculated to have been one- Richard Brakenburg. But despite the lack of direct students, his work influenced many others.

He was prolific. According to Tobias van Westrheene he painted 500 paintings, and Hofstede de Groot said 1000. Because of how many he painted, 350 of them survive.

And apparently, the Dutch have a proverb about Jan Steen that I won’t try to pronounce. But the English translation is ‘a Jan Steen household’, which means more or less to have a messy house. Which, savage. That’s what my legacy would be, though. But it probably doesn’t refer to Steen’s actual lack of housekeeping, but the lived-in interiors of his works instead.

Arnold Houbraken was a so-called biographer who admitted that his ‘research’ came solely from Steen’s paintings when he wrote that Steen’s paintings were drawn from his life, just as his lifestyle was like his paintings. Houbraken’s assessments must be taken with a mountain of salt, seeing as how most of his biographies of other painters have been proven to have been largely made up or drawn from the artist’s work rather than the artist. There may be truth in the notion that you can only make art of any kind from your own experience, but you are not your work and you’re not always the same person as who you choose to base art on.

Now, onto the painting.

If you took a prior look at this artwork and decided I was insane for trying to describe it, you might be right. But it was such an interesting work I figured I had to try.

It’s a table at a large dinner. Nine adults and two children are clustered at it, some standing and some sitting. There are four adults in the background at the extreme right of the piece, all seated.

The center of the painting is dominated by a woman reclining on a chair, her right arm over the back of it and looking over that shoulder to look at a child. The reclining woman is wearing a white bonnet she’s untied to be loose around her head. Strands of her dark blonde hair are shown curled over her forehead. Her face is relaxed and she’s smiling softly. Her cheeks are rosy in good health, or maybe just a lot of wine. She’s wearing a white garment that’s more revealing than I thought was permitted back then- you can see the skin of her throat, some of her shoulders, and cleavage. She’s wearing a bright orange corset, and a long dark mustard skirt that looks like it’s made of velvet or a similar material. It has the look of it when you stroke it the wrong way in parts of the skirt. The skirt is draped over her lap and legs, which are spread open slightly, though no skin is shown. She’s wearing pointed orange shoes a few shades darker than her corset.

As a brief aside, if you listened to the episode on Vermeer’s The Milkmaid I described a box on the floor behind the titular character. I thought that the box would contain warm coals to heat the food or room. The same kind of box makes an appearance in this painting. That's what I love about making this show- I'm learning new things.

Her left foot is against the floor and her right one is in a box- this one with no top and only two closed sides. There’s a bowl in it, probably holding warm coals as I thought before. It looks like they were used to warm toes, not food or rooms.

The woman is also wearing an overcoat that looks like velvet, as well. It’s a warm light brown on the outside and a cream on the inside. Her right arm is bare from just below her shoulder down to her wrist, and she’s holding a tall white decanter that looks like ceramic with small pink flower details, probably containing alcohol going by the glass with amber liquid in it in her left hand. Her left arm is bare the same as her right and her hand is holding the glass in such a way that the liquid is tipped towards the side, but has no chance of spilling. It’s half-full.

She has a white cloth napkin spread over her lap. The end near her knees and closer to the viewer is folded under itself, and the end near her stomach is folded over. The folds are shadowed.

There’s a man to our right of the reclining woman, her left. He’s wearing a flat red hat with black feathers, but it’s almost on the side of his head. It’s being held up because his head is drastically tilted the opposite way. It looks like he’s holding some kind of awl or other pointed thin metal tool in one hand and using it to puncture some kind of taut fabric or leather covering on the jug he holds tucked under his other arm. He’s smiling widely. He’s older- he’s bald and has a short white beard and mustache. He’s wearing a black shirt with a high ruffled white collar that reminds me of portraits of monarchs in England. He has brightly colored fabric draped over the arm closer to the viewer, his left. It’s tucked under his belt. It’s striped with mustard yellow, deep orange, and dark brown. It reminds me of Mexican serapes. Maybe the technique or just the fabric made its way from Central America all the way to Holland. The Dutch were prolific traders, they were so close to the water.

His pants are beige, almost a khaki color. They have a vertical band of darker brown on one hip from his belt to his ankle. His socks are dark gray and he has dark brown leather shoes in the same style as the reclining woman, though his are more squared at the toes. The shoes show the sides of the foot, only covering the soles, toes, and heel.

To the left of the image and the right of the reclining woman is a small child standing on an end table that’s carved on the front drawer. The carving is detailed but not terribly ornate- it has swoops and an oval design around the keyhole. There’s a three-armed candle next to the child with a snuffer extending from the metal plate underneath. The child is holding a glass in both hands and has just finished drinking deeply from it- the glass is still to his lips but his head is bowed. Perhaps he partook in alcohol as well.

The child is wearing a white undershirt that looks like a long nightshirt and stops above his knees- the lower half of his legs are bare. He’s wearing cream socks that have been pushed down and brown shoes that are in the same style as the velcro shoes you put on little kids- there’s a smaller gap on the sides but not as drastic as the adults’ shoes.

He’s also wearing a mustard overcoat with white fur at the collar. His hair still has the fineness of childhood. It’s long and dark blonde. Maybe he’s the son of the reclining woman- she has a fond expression on her face as she looks at him. He has a white paper hat on his head that looks somewhat like a chef’s hat. There’s another slightly older child behind him who’s tugging on his overcoat. This child has a basket upside-down on his head and a flushed face, maybe from more alcohol.

This child is wearing a forest green overcoat. He has a light blue fabric draped over his shoulders, like what you do with a sweater if you don’t feel like tying it around your waist. This isn’t tied, though. His legs are bare like the first child’s, and he’s wearing the same kind of socks and shoes.

Behind the child in green is a man in black clothes who has some kind of pointed metal receptacle on his head. It's like a big funnel. He also has a flat piece of leather carrying spoons tied around his waist. He’s holding a large metal serving spoon towards the man next to him, and what looks like a huge metal spatula against his shoulder. For all I know, it’s an instrument. He’s holding it like he’s playing a violin. He must be a fan of kitchen implements that could possibly be instruments. The man to his immediate left is more stern- he has a long metal thing in his mouth, maybe he’s taking a draw from some kind of tobacco or something like that.

The man to his left is also wearing black, with a white bib that extends over his shoulders and a black hat with a wide brim. The next figure looks like a nun- she’s wearing black with the covering over her hair and the white piece separating it from her face. The rest of her outfit is black as well. She has her hand on the stem of the glass the first child is drinking out of- whether she’s giving it to him or trying to take it away is unclear. She has a slightly amused expression on her face.

The next woman must be a server of some kind- she’s holding a black tray of food over her head. It could be waffles or cookies, I can’t tell. She’s smiling. Her arms are pale where they’re exposed by her clothing. She’s wearing a black top with a white dress underneath.

The next man has longer curly hair that’s graying. He's wearing black, as well, with a white collar. I thought it was odd that a few figures are dressed so darkly and the first four so vividly. But this man is turned slightly to talk to the musician on his left. The musician is standing in front of a painting in an ornate gold frame. The painting is a dark landscape, with a slim tree on the left of the image and dark details I can’t make out in the rest, with a sky with an orange glow emanating from the middle.

The musician is playing a fiddle. He’s wearing a brown bowler hat and is talking to the man with graying hair I described before. He’s young- his face still has a boyish look to it and he doesn’t have any facial hair. He’s wearing a deep green coat and a blue-toned shirt underneath with the lapels showing. In front of him is a woman looking to her left. Her arms are folded on the table with her right arm laying over her left. You can see a hint of orange fabric peeking out from under her coat, which is green-toned with white fur down the front, at her collar, and at her wrists. She’s smiling softly.

The man seated on the left of the four seated figures is wearing a blue hat that’s darker on the underside of the flat top. His face is pale and he has a small beard extending solely from his chin. Almost like a long soul patch. Not a great look. His face is blank- maybe he’s bored. No one seems to be talking to him. To the right is a figure you can barely see between the women in front of him. He has slicked black hair that’s covering both sides of his forehead in a curve. He’s wearing black clothes with a white collar, though his is buttoned up. The next man is seen in profile. He’s wearing a black hat and has long curly brown hair that falls just past the front of his shoulders. He has a thin pencil mustache. Also not a great look. His shirt is a green-yellow, more of the latter than the former. He has a wide white collar. And the last figure is a woman with her back to the viewer. This woman is wearing a thick black shawl with white trim over a red-orange dress. She has some kind of necklace on, as well. You can only see the back of the necklace- it’s not a chain, more of a thin leather strap. It has a short orange tassel at the very back of her neck. She’s sitting in a sturdy wooden chair that has been carved to have gently twisting legs and a high back with a gap in the middle that shows the person sitting in its back.

Now that the figures are done, let’s move on to the rest of the painting. The background is what looks like a dark wooden wardrobe behind the last four figures. You can see two posts of it extending upwards, with oval decorations topping them. It’s against a green wall- it’s darker behind the wardrobe, then the corner is further into the painting space and is lighter because of the window. The window has a sheer curtain tied back on the left of it. The window is closed and is separated into four sections of glass- two on the left and two on the right. The glass is broken up by black pieces, like lead in stained glass.

In front of the window is an empty birdcage, or maybe a chandelier for candles. Either way, it’s rounded, open, and metal. It’s dangling by a chain from a wooden beam on the ceiling. On the extreme left of the background is a stone fireplace, maybe. Some of the stone is gray and carved, some of it is brown and polished. Onto the foreground.

The floor is checkered with wide black and white marble tiles. You can see the veins in the material. There’s an empty jug on the left near the children, and two pans. One is a brighter metal than the other. The brighter metal one is also deeper, with a spoon resting in it. The darker one is more of a skillet. On the right of the image are eggshells broken on the floor. There’s a whole egg, too- blue-toned in color. The table in the middle ground is covered with two tablecloths- the top one is white, but the under one is more reminiscent of a carpet. It has orange, brown, and mustard floral designs on it, and it’s stiffer like a carpet, too.

The table holds dessert- plates, a single orange, and a cake on a stand. Last, but certainly not least, is what looks like a spaniel mix standing in front of the table. He’s white with brown markings on him that are smaller near his feet, and his tail is up and alert. He’s standing and looking off into the distance to the right of the painting.

Now for my thoughts.

The skin, the fabric, it all looks like you can see what it would feel like just by looking at it. Like the velvet of the reclining woman’s dress. There’s also smooth metal, soft paper, and wiry fur.

It seems like a fun party, with alcohol flowing for both the adults and the children. Other than the four people on the right, but maybe they’re just taking a short break from the revelry. There are also a few people with non-hats on their heads. Which just reminds me of those stereotypical college frat parties where someone ends up with a lampshade on their head. Drunk people, man. The same throughout history.

I also love the way Steen captured the liveliness of this celebration. Music is playing, people are laughing, and all around a good time is being had. That’s what makes this piece so interesting- the joy the subjects are experiencing. I can’t help but smile when I see this piece. It looks like a gathering of loved ones that truly enjoy each other’s company.

People have always had fun, and it’s great to see that depicted in art. Lots of people think that the past was so much harder than it is today, which it probably was. But there were times where they were just as happy as we are. Life wasn’t misery after misery, they had celebrations as well. And just as happiness brings people together today, it did the same back then. And seeing a piece of art like this, it just reminds me of that. Looking at this piece of art is like looking in a window that can see into the past, showing the viewer a glimpse of what life was like. And life is fun.

Because that’s what it boils down to- fun. Sure- sometimes you can have bad days, even bad weeks. But there’s always something to look forward to, some small kernel of future or even past joy that you can use to keep yourself going.

Here’s my challenge for you- find one thing to be happy about today. It can be a memory, it can be a quiet moment at the park where you see a dog chase its own tail, fully believing that this time he’ll get it. If you do that, you might realize something- big joy and small joy is the same. You can land a multi-million dollar job or have a great day in another country, or you could have a cool drink on a hot day or spend some time with a friend. Joy is joy.

If you liked this episode of Long Live Bat Art, please consider telling a friend and reviewing to help the podcast grow. A link to the transcript of this episode is available in the show notes below. And you can follow me on Twitter at Long Live Bat Art. That’s Long Live B-A-T Art. Thank you for listening to this episode, and I will see you in two weeks.

#episode transcripts

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ciaraloves · 1 year

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I need to hear about your instagram crush 👀 🍿

oh my god jae I do not think you know what you’ve just opened by asking this of me😫are you ready? I could talk about this boy for HOURS!

let me take you on a Journey™️

so some things you need to know about me first:

1. my obsession with pretty boys (and people in general) extends far beyond me crying about them on tumblr (which I do quite frequently). ergo pretty boys tend to pop up on my instagram feed as fashion influencers, dancers, singers, pottery artists (this is a very large niche apparently?) and most frequently: gym goers.

2. now another thing you need to know about me: i DO NOT gym. beyond not being even remotely interested in it, I also have a myriad of joint problems (shoutout jana (@disappearsreappears ) for being metaphorical cane-babes together) and therefore going to the gym and doing cool gym stuff is not really an option for me. so naturally I don’t actively engage in gym content for gym related purposes, in any aspect of my life

3. but nonetheless because I love pretty boys, and THEY love gym, I get a lot of gym content on my Instagram.

4. another thing you need to know: I spend a clinically distressing amount of time on instagram. like if you think I waste away on tumblr, instags is at least twice as bad :/

5. that means I get through A Lot of content in one day. but, while I’m pretty liberal about what content I watch and engage in, I’m quite strict about who I follow. instagram is a nightmare of suggestions and recommendations in the home feed, the explore page, and the reels so the small amount of curation I actually can do, I keep under strict lockdown.

6. therefore despite having lots of fun seeing pretty boys in my reels and smiling ridiculously at the screen as they attempt to hit personal gym records for weird shit like russian deadlifts and bulgarian split squats, I don’t just follow every pretty human i see.

7. in fact, unless I really really like your videos (/content) and they surpass my usual serotonin boost I don’t care how many times you come up in my feed I probably won’t follow you.

8. one more thing about me: I have two instagram accounts — one I created in 2013 and has been on private and will continue to be on private since then (it’s my main Instagram where I follow all my people from). and the other I started in 2021 to post more of my chaos things > that one is public and full of nonsense and I don’t follow anyone from there cause I use it purely as an memory book of sorts (it’s linked on all my tumbles so I’m not linking here but the important thing is that it’s public so anyone can see what I post < that’s important for later)

okay onto my Instagram crush and (self proclaimed) love of my life 😫

scott ho (aka @/scottoho) popped up in my reels in January this year (I think it was jan it may have been the undefined time between dec and jan but I’m like seventy five percent sure it was jan) with this sinful video (I’d like to defend myself at this point and say not all, in fact almost none of, the gym related videos that pop up in my feed are this…slutty… though I’m certainly not complaining). and I was like oh my god he’s preetttyyyyyy.

but I didn’t follow him (see above) I just liked the reel and moved on. but (for those who managed to avoid the instags hellscape) interacting once with something on there will most definitely prompt an entire slew of that account’s (and other accounts like it) content. so over the next few days I got a couple more scott related gym videos.

usually I take about a month or more to follow someone if I keep seeing their content and like it. it took me two days to follow him😫I saw an arm workout, a leg workout, and my absolute weakness, a back workout

I was SOLD!

pretty boy ✅

shows us pretty back muscles✅

and one of his posts had him looking gorgeous in a baby blue sweater at a fucking art gallery✅ (lord I’m still unsure how I survive him)

now yes he was a pretty boy I followed but he wasn’t, at this stage my instagram crush. no, not yet. a couple weeks and many videos go by where I’m happy to see him on my feed and enjoy his content

15 jan (I know the date cause I sent his vid to a friend I was crying about it to) rolls around and a leg workout pops up. INSTANT LOVE. I don’t know what the fuck was in that video but I was GONNNEEEE about it. literally just tumbled head first into obsession

and that marks the day I started looking forward to see his content on my feed (clinically down bad at this point)

he then posted this video dancing to that adorable “sure thing” trend (“if you be the cash I’ll be the rubber band etc etc.”) and I melted straight into the earth’s core and immediately saved that video to my instags. I also went through the effort of reposting that video on my public instagram account purely so he would be able to see it! and he did! and he liked my story and I cried about THAT for about eighty five days

fast forward to me screaming shaking crying throwing up about him on a daily basis and telling my friend in LA she has to pack him in her suitcase when she’s coming back because I. NEED. HIM!!!! (she said she would but she also has my soju glasses and frankly those are still more important no matter how much I love him)

AND THEN: (cause no this is not over — I told you you opened the doors to hell)

he posted this video showing what he looked like before his workout (muscles less defined, skin not as flushed, so so gorgeous) and after (muscles more defined, skin a pretty pink, the most beautiful ever!). and the caption for the video was “before the pump and after the pump // can you tell the difference?”

and me (who is delusional but also forward as hell) commented: “pretty before, pretty after ✨” which he then responded to with “ur pretty during”.

JAE I DIED????!!!!!! HOW DARE HE DO THAT TO ME????? I FUCKING PASSED OUT!!!!!!

(and yes I know he was just being smooth with it and he defs has zero idea what I look like and he responds to lots of comments etc. etc. but love is delusional and I’m obsessed so I will continue to live in fantasy world)

anyway that comment (and his reply) got some attention (I’m still getting notifications about it which is extremely annoying does anyone know how to stop them?).

alas after this he posted a video where he and another influencer did a skit where they pretended to bump into each other by accident. it was very cute and I cried about it because the love of my life is in love with someone else what am I gonna do I can’t believe this😔😔😔😔I was in heartbreak central.

BUT after that I found out he played basketball (which is my favourite sport to watch) and I was back to WANTING TO MARRY HIM!

and then he posted a video showing his overnight oats recipe which I then reposted on stories with the caption “two meals in this video” which he saw and liked (when you’re in love those little instagram floating hearts really be giving you all the chemicals you need) (really at this point I’m just surprised my mother hasn’t called asking why I’m publicly thirsting over someone?)

anyway, I’m stocked up nice and full on my daily scott serotonin boost when a couple days later he posts a shoulder work out and I reposted that on my stories

(guys please understand I don’t follow him from my public account I really am so fucked I go through a whole process for reposting on the off chance he’ll see it UGH)

with the caption, “my only goal this year is to be so delusional I can pretend I’ll bump into @/scottoho on the street even though we live 10’s of 1000’s of km’s away from each other // it’s working btdubs (I’m so delusional)” which he REPLIED TO with: “maybe if you come to LA” and suddenly I had a notification from him in my direct messages 😫😫😫😫😫please I could not contain myself I think I crashed the metaphorical car . I was i n c o h e r e n t about it !!!

anyway after not recovering from that at all I am fully in the thirsting business when it comes to scott and I don’t see myself stopping until I get ignored because he got so popular he just cannot realistically reply to everyone (please that’s nightmare day😭😫) < can y’all tell I like attention?

ps. he posted the cutest ramble on his stories yesterday I watched it like seventeen times I can’t believe stories disappear I need to eat this man!

okay thank you for letting me take you on this journey. I hope you can understand I’m really going through it with him at the moment (because I’m fucking on crack and also delusional) and there will definitely be more tumblr posts where I cry about him (I can’t say I’m sorry)

mwah! sending love jae :) <3

#jae things #lh things #I don’t remember which tag I use for you jae😫#ciara’s convos #my instgram crush <3 #ciara in love (delusional)

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dawnmore · 3 months

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a friday, feb 2, 2024

okay, i didn't get to write this all last night because i was so tired when i came home, which was probably around 12am-1am

anywaysss

last night was the night of february 1st, the night of prom. my first prom

i had my expectations low, thinking that my whole night would just relate to the song 'prom dress' where she says

"i'm sitting here, crying in a prom dress. i'd be the prom queen if crying was a contest"

so yeahhh, i didn't have just high hopes

oh yeah

the day before prom (jan 31, 2024), i posted an instagram story at around 9am or something

it was posted to close friends: which meaning- it was directed to jay ar and him only

it was pic of the sky with silhouettes of trees, the music being 'love.' - a song i got from ig recommendeds

chose it because well- y'know our call sign used to be Love

so- it's just more hints so that he would get it was directed at him

and i captioned the story

"save the last dance for me?"

i read it somewhere from tiktok, and i was immediately like- this is it, this is what I should say

it was direct, it was short, it was perfect

so i posted it

perhaps every three hours i would check to see if he saw it

the next day rolled around

20 hours had past since i've posted the story

only a few hours more until prom

and he still haven't

my nerves were shaking, thinking if i'm doing the right thing

i had already expected he wouldn't see it

sooo i deleted the story and posted it again

so there i was

outside the gates of the auditorium with kem

was too nervous to just go inside

so i messaged both ian and alisa

alisa ended up sending people to sundo me

got nervous for a bit because i was with kem

she told me to go to the gates so they could come fetch me

i went with kem, a bit nervous

there, i with the eyes of kenneth and redden

they got a good look at me, but didn't say anything

redden was looking at me like he wanted to say something

i bid kem farewell

and quietly walked behind the two towards the table

redden kept looking back towards me as we were walking

was he checking up if i was catching up with them alright? did he want to say something? i didn't really know

as we got to the table

i got a handful of reactions

right as i got there, i made eye contact with bap and he immediately said "ang ganda mo naman" with a cute and charming smile on his face

baby that gave me butterflieeeesss, he tried to make it sound casual but i could tell he meant it and ahhhh it was cute

also mavi telling me i'm like a superhero because i have a cape

someone told me maganda daw yung mask ko, i think it was aljur? couldn't really remember

and we all lined up outside for the entrance, once again alphabetical

so jay ar again was almost beside me, wearing his masquerade mask, he looked pretty cute i guess

that was when i remembered the instagram story

i quickly opened my phone and went to go check

...he saw it

he finally saw it

just seened it, no react or anything

but my nerves are already shaking from the fact he finally saw it

thinking and thinking if he would eventually ask me to dance at one point this night

so yeah, that concludes the first part of last night's prom

0 notes

7grandyears · 1 year

Note

How do you feel about vavr coming back

hi anon, great question. my feelings are super complicated and it SUCKS!

i'm talking about death in this one (block the tag "tw death" if you don't want to see posts like this)

being an introject of vavr while the channel was dead was peaceful, mostly because i didn't have to go through the motions of watching lore happen in real time to my source self like other g.h. (gardenhome) introjects do (ex. siiva, turner).

lemme, like, make a chart to explain this.

i split off and had my own sort of "revival" in a similar style to vavr chapter 2 a long bit ago. i've been coping with the events of ends here ends now for a long time (and so has n, but he's obviously been going through it worse because he, yknow, had to SEE me die). me and n's relationship is a lot different than it used to be.

jan 19th strikes, everything was fine for most of the day until i got home and started getting notifications FROM THE VAVR CHANNEL

fucking. horrifying.

i thought "oh, well, maybe it's just a little joke, something like that" NOPE, FUCK YOU! CHAPTER 2 BABEY!

i was fucking panicking (and i mean PANICKING) the entire time.

lemme just... show you what was happening so you can get the idea

so yeah. i was FREAKED the FUCK out at the time because i was not prepared whatsoever for that to happen.

i know like, "introjects are not their source" and all that but i'm very close with my source.

while i am still very anxious about it, i guess my feelings are a little different at the moment. i'm not completely devastated over it, but i do feel bad over the fact that source me seems to have completely dropped the character development he went through in ends here ends now! like, yeah, i'm still a prick sometimes, but i'm doing a lot better for myself now! but source me? still a fucking asshole. does not care about n whatsoever (which makes me so fucking FRUSTRATED!!! put me on the fucking lorewriting team right now so i can fix this shit!!!!)

i guess that leads me to my next thought: i hope source me can get the same happy ending that i've gotten here. i hope maybe he can grow a little and at LEAST be n's friend or SOMETHING. like come on gayboy, you can do it

i think i reacted to it so viscerally because of how traumatic ends here ends now was for me and n as lore. you know, there was a REASON i detested lore so much!

anyways, yeah. this post is getting way too fuckin long. i think you can get the jist of what i mean. if you dont, you could probably send another ask for clarification!

#vavr.txt #tw death #rambling #gardenhome ask

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stuarthull2 · 2 years

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gameriggy · 2 years

Text

LONG POST

Since lore has stretched out expansively, I wanted to get a good timeline of events I think are worth noting after Dreams Revival Book video released. Mostly as a refresher, but also as a connecting piece to see what may fit where.

NOTE: this isnt everything that’s happened on the server, it’s just what I could immediately find that I felt probably has some potential to be important

Jan 20: final disc confrontation, Dream is imprisoned due to his revival ability

- we now know punz was indeed in on dreams plans

- We know that dream already had a hold on enderwalk ranboo

Jan.30: Ranboo’s Prison “Nightmare”

- Referenced in the Dream Revival book video, dream and Ranboo are placed like it was the cell and the blocks confirm it. Also solidifies the implication that ranboo indeed caused the lockdown tnt explosion

February 21: Pandoras Vault is locked down due to the tnt explosion

- the eggpire (BBH and Antfrost) are hired by Awesamdude to increase security as guards while they try to find what caused the explosions

February 23: Bee n Boo

- roughly around when the bee n boo was being constructed in opposition to jack manifold hotel

- Referenced in revival book video due to bbh giving ranboo something, presumably the blueprints. The background looks like the bee n boo

- (Purely speculation but if it was blueprints to the prison, either ranboo placed them where techno later found them, or there was another plan that didn’t fall through to Ranboos ban from the prison)

March 2: ranboo mourns Tommy

- plants flowers in front of his house

- Contemplates how it could’ve been him in Tommy’s shoes if Tommy hadn’t have vouched for him

- Confronts Sams recklessness in allowing Tommy to remain in the cell with dream

March 6: Ranboo joins Syndicate

Post Tommy Revival: Ranboo ends up in the final disc confrontation room

- no immediate memory of it

- Hears voices from parts of the confrontation he hadn’t been in the room for yet

- Realizes his enderwalking is more frequent and is worried

- Realizes dream holds too much power with the revival book (I have three lives, I can afford to be reckless if it means stopping dream bit)

Sometime prior to April 23: Ranboo begins revisiting his enderwalk experiments

April 23: the Lessons Stream

- ranboo is revealed to not recall the shulker box deal he made with foolish, confirming that that was him in enderwalk

- He proceeds to continue to recall lessons in a book, getting more panicked with each one

- Begs Sam to imprison him, which sam refuses

- Returns to his home he questions “what am i” in his book, then proceeds to trigger his enderwalk.

April 25: The Red Banquet

- Warden Sam and his guards are involved

- Antfrost loses a life, BBH flees, Sam entraps the egg. No resolution as of writing this -1/14/22

- Ranboo was present in the background, presumably enderwalking. When he came out he passed by some of the survivors with noticeable fire resistance pot particles

- Ranboo is missing his memory book and his inventory spells out “I won”

April 28: Answer

- Ranboo gets an answer to “what am I” from his enderwalk self.

- "I am someone who stops conflict. I need to make sure that if any conflict arises to try and help in any way possible. MAKE SURE THAT EVERYONE IS SAFE. STOP CONFLICT. MAKE THE SERVER BETTER. This is what I need to do. Trust me."

May 21-22: Stronghold

-Ranboo accidentally finds a stronghold, proceeds to convert it to a lab and admit to the particles his experiments were meant to find a solution to the enderwalk

July 18: Ranboo attempts to build an end city build despite not knowing what an end city is

July 25: Ranboo begins assisting Wilbur in the Paradise Burger Van

November 27: Ranboo is imprisoned by Awesamdude

November 28th: Dreams escape

- technoblade breaks all known prisoners out of pandoras vault

- Awesamdude reveals he has kidnapped Michael_Beloved to Ranboo to gain his compliance

- Proceeds to murder ranboo in an attempt to get Dream back into the prison

- Ranboo loses his last canon life, previous two lost presumably to the enderwalk state

- Dream reconnects with Punz, terrorizes Tommy, and gains information from Sapnap on Kinoko Kingdom

#dream smp #dream smp lore #dream smp spoilers #ranboo lore #dream lore #enderwalk #enderboo #ghostboo #the syndicate #dsmp #dsmp lore #dreamsmp lore #dreamsmp #dream smp timeline #the revival book #bee n boo #c!ranboo #c!dream #pandoras vault

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callboxkat · 3 years

Text

Banished (part 1)

Prompt: Banished

Author’s note: Mappy MerMay! (edit: I see the typo and I choose to keep it)

Summary: Janus has been banished from his pod for crimes that he did not commit. However, this merman’s bad luck is far from over. A mer is not meant to live on their own in the open ocean, and as one would expect, things do not go well. Enter: Florida Man.

Chapter Warnings: false accusations, past imprisonment, banishment, treating someone as an outcast, censored swearing, crying, death mentions

Word count: 2415

Banished Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

Ao3 Link

@badthingshappenbingo

...

“Janus, third child of Mariana and Glycon, you are hereby banished from this pod, and from all pods who condemn the nature of your crimes.”

Janus had known it was coming, but nevertheless, the merman felt the verdict stab through him like a harpoon. The water around him suddenly felt 10 degrees colder, and the walls of the chamber seemed to loom ever closer, suffocating him.

Banished.

Murmurs rippled through the small crowd. Scales shimmered as the gathered mers, most already hanging on the edges of the chamber, tried to distance themselves further from the outcast. From him.

“You will have until sunset to leave the reef. Should you be found within our territory after the sun sinks below the horizon, the penalty is death.”

Janus simply stared at the merwoman before him, holding herself tall in front of the ornate coral design upon the wall of the chamber, her face stony. Her verdict was final, and Janus knew it. It didn’t matter that he was innocent. Officially, he was a criminal. An outcast. Banished. Trying to fight her decision would only further tarnish his image, and most likely that of the family and friends he left behind.

A part of him didn’t care about that. But the part that did held his tongue.

Janus’s eyes shifted toward the back of the chamber, where he could see most of his family huddled together. His mother was crying, being held by his father. His siblings looked stunned. A part of Janus wanted to call out, to tell them to do something, even though he knew that there was nothing any of them could do to save him. He wasn’t sure they even believed him, that he had not committed these crimes. While they never told him so, their notably few visits while he was in prison spoke volumes.

His eyes slid back to the judge, and he dipped his head in bitter acceptance. His fists tightened, and the long, metal chain attacked to one of his arms clinked softly. It was there both to keep him trapped and to prevent him to use his electric abilities, as if he would ever do something so loathsome and barbaric, even if his family hadn’t been in the room.

The judge raised her hands, and the chamber began to empty. A couple of Janus’s siblings glanced back at him as they left, but mostly, the mers who had come for the show avoided looking at him now. They would not want to be associated with an outcast. He understood, even if anger gathered in his chest. Even his parents refused to look in his direction, and the glances his siblings spared him were brief.

Finally, when all who remained were Janus, the judge, and the guards, two off them swam to his sides and unlocked the chain from Janus’s wrist, one keeping a clawed hand at the back of Janus’s neck as a warning. The cuff was replaced with another, lighter, but permanent one. This one was etched with sharp symbols. Janus closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as it was locked in place, a permanent hindrance to how much of his electricity he could use without harming himself, a solemn marker of his fate, and a warning to all others of his crimes. He would never be taken into another pod, not with that on his wrist. Not unless he could somehow get somewhere far enough away that they might not know what it meant.

At last, the guards let him go. He was allowed to leave. To prepare for his departure, and to say goodbye.

Janus opened his eyes and looked up at the judge, who remained at her post, watching him. He knew that he was supposed to thank her for her mercy, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He figured that the “Go f*ck yourself” he actually wanted to say would do him and his family no favors, so he compromised and simply turned and swam from the room.

His life was over, in every way that mattered.

Outside, the bustling atmosphere of the reef seemed in sharp contrast to the somber mood within the chamber. Fish and other sea creatures weaved between glimmering mers. Cheerful gossip could be heard, as well as mers arguing over prices at colorful stalls, or calling out greetings to each other. Some kids seemed to be trying to see who could get the most pebbles to sail between the fork in a tall spire of coral.

It had been some time since Janus had been “free” this way, which only made the difference feel all the more staggering. To be suddenly thrust back into this normal part of life, even if only for the few hours they allowed him to prepare for his banishment, was… unsettling.

However, the atmosphere wasn’t quite the same as it had once been. None of the mers came close to him, Janus noted, choosing instead to take a longer path to avoid him, even as they acted as if nothing was wrong. As if it were a coincidence that they wanted to swim on the other side of the path. There had always been some nervousness that many mers tended to have around those with abilities like electricity or poison. But this was a whole level or two beyond that.

They knew. Of course they did. He was sure that everybody had been told of his “crimes”. The metal cuff on his wrist burned like a brand, but he refused to rub it, or to hide it with his other hand.

He swam away. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, but soon enough, he found himself at his destination

Of course. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere else.

It wasn’t his home that he found himself approaching, slowing his pace as it came into sight. Most of his family had said their good byes before his sentencing. Instead, he found himself at the home of his best friend: Roman.

Roman hadn’t been at Janus’s sentencing, but it seemed that the merman had somehow known he would come, and had been waiting for him. He was pacing, swimming back and forth between the two large, algae and sea star covered stones that marked the entrance to his property.

As Janus approached, Roman froze, and turned sharply towards him. His face was almost as red as the striping on his gorgeous tail, the pain in his eyes clearly visible with his long hair tied back.

“Janus,” he croaked, and pushed off of one of the rocks, swimming for Janus as fast as he could.

They crashed into each other, Roman’s arms encircling him. Janus choked on a surge of emotion and squeezed his best friend back. It was the first time they’d been this close to each other since his arrest.

“I’m sorry, Jan.”

“It’s okay,” he lied. Perhaps if he could convince Roman, Janus could believe it himself.

…

All too soon, the sky above the water began to turn pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was time to leave.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Roman asked.

The two mermen floated together at the edge of the reef. Behind them, bioluminescent lanterns had begun to glow, and the sounds of life had begun to lull as most everyone went home for the night. Everyone except for them. Janus had a bag strapped to his back, with what few supplies he had allowed himself to bring. Some food, his gloves—which still fit over the cuff that would forever mark him as an outcast, thankfully—some bandages, a compass, and two carvings: one of his family made just after his youngest sibling had been born, and one of Janus and Roman, smiling for the carver.

Roman and Janus had gone back to Janus’s home to fetch the supplies. It had been nice to have Roman there, for his support. Most of his family had avoided him, even though he could tell they were heartbroken. A couple of his siblings had told him good-bye, and to take care of himself. Only his littlest sibling, who probably knew very little of the situation, had hugged Janus. She’d grown, since he’d last seen her. Janus had remained resolutely calm as he clung to her for the last time.

“Of course I’ll be okay,” Janus lied, now, looking out at the dark water.

Roman looked unsure, but Janus only turned and offered a half smile.

“So, uh… where are you going to go?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. Janus still didn’t know how to answer.

“Maybe I’ll find another pod to join,” he shrugged eventually.

Roman’s eyes went to the metal cuff on Janus’s wrist, letters etched within it to symbolize his condemnation. He knew as well as Janus did that no mer pod who knew its meaning would take him, not when it was so clear to see.

“Maybe I’ll cover it up,” Janus said, putting a hand over the cuff self-consciously. He did his best to seem casual about it. He’d been almost defiant, back in the busier part of the reef, but it felt different, with Roman.

“Maybe,” Roman agreed halfheartedly.

“You know those arm bands the guards wear? Maybe I’ll get something like that. Or I’ll get thicker gloves.”

“You are pretty good at weaving,” Roman allowed. “You could make them look nice.”

“Naturally.”

They looked out at the open water.

“You could add some beading,” Roman suggested.

“Sea glass,” Janus nodded.

Roman nodded vaguely. “Oh—Jan, I have something for you.” He took off his own pack and started to dig through it.

“I hope it’s not too heavy,” Janus said dryly. “I’ll probably have to swim pretty far. If you’re giving me one of those statues of yours, I’m going to have to say no.”

“Ah, shut up,” Roman said, smacking his arm lightly. A heartbroken look flashed briefly on his face, and he quickly went back to digging through his pack. “No, it’s… here.” He pulled something out with a small flourish. He looked at it for a second, as if hesitating, then handed it over.

It was a small, red scale, a little bigger than the pad of Janus’s thumb, attached to a cord.

Janus took it in careful hands. “One of yours?”

Roman shifted, tucking his hands behind his back. “Yeah. You know, so you don’t forget about me on all your marvelous adventures to come.”

“I’d never forget you, Roman.” Janus looked down at the scale for a few seconds, tilting it so it shimmered in the fading sunlight. He glanced up, biting his lip. “I’m sorry I don’t have any to give you.”

They glanced down at Janus’s tail. It was sleek, nearly black, with a thick yellow stripe down the center that flared out at the fin, with yellow hints at the fins on his sides and back as well. All in all, it wasn’t all that different from most mers’ tails, except that rather than scales, its surface was made up of smooth, thick skin.

“It’s okay,” Roman said. “I’ll remember you, anyway.”

Janus nodded. He put the necklace around his neck, but kept turning the scale in his hands.

Silence fell over them. Above, the sun seemed to dip further below the horizon, signaling just how little time they had left.

And then Roman began to cry.

“Sh*t,” said Janus, looking down at the ground. “Don’t do that. You’re embarrassing me.” You’re going to make me cry if you keep that up.

Roman shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m trying—I know you want to just act like it’s normal, like this is just a normal night, but—Janus, I’m never—” his voice broke, and he had to take a shuddering breath to continue—“I’m never going to see you again.”

Janus knew that. Of course he knew that. He took a deep, steadying breath.

“This f*cking sucks.”

Roman, still crying, nodded emphatically.

“Come here,” he sighed. He reached out and put his arms around Roman. They floated there for a moment, holding on to each other. Roman’s grip was so tight that it almost hurt. Janus tried to memorize the feeling of his bracelets where they rested against his back, the texture of his hair against the side of his face, the way the merman felt in his arms.

“I just… How are you—how are you just okay with this? Why aren’t you yelling and screaming? Why aren’t you angry? Go fight them on this! Appeal or something. Fight. You’re… it’s not like you to just accept this.”

“It won’t change anything.” Janus said, his chin on Roman’s shoulder.

“You could at least… try.”

“I did try, Roman. I promise you I tried.” All the yelling and swearing and fighting in the world had gotten Janus absolutely nowhere. All his attempts to prove his innocence had been stricken down. One last attempt at an appeal would simply be rejected. It was too late to try, with the sun nearly set; and doing his trial over again would made no difference, anyway. Janus’s fate had been decided the moment he was arrested.

“Damnit,” Roman mumbled. Somehow, he managed to squeeze Janus tighter.

Normally, Janus was not the most cuddly mer in the ocean. But he’d allow it, tonight. …For Roman’s sake.

“What if I let you stay here?” Roman asked. “I could hide you. My parents left me a pretty big property. It has plenty of hiding spaces.”

Janus shook his head. “They’d figure it out eventually. And then they’d just kill us both.”

“Then… then I’ll come with you.”

Janus shook his head. “Roman, what about Patty? We can’t take them with us.”

Roman turned his head briefly away. He didn’t answer, other than to drop his head down so that his forehead rested on Janus’s shoulder, defeated. He never could have abandoned his sibling, or forced them to share Janus’s fate.

The sun sank lower.

“Just tell me you’re going to be okay,” Roman sniveled. “Really. Promise me.”

“Of course I’m going to be okay,” Janus lied. “I promise.”

It was okay that Roman clearly didn’t believe him. It was just what he was supposed to say, wasn’t it?

…

The moment that Janus was far enough from the reef that Roman could no longer see him, Janus broke. He just hadn’t wanted Roman to see him cry.

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