#laryngitis awareness

[ayurvedictipsforall]

8 Yoga asanas for laryngitis

It is a respiratory disorder that makes the larynx-voice box inflamed and irritated. When vocal cords get swollen, the patient finds it difficult to speak and also experiences cough, sneezing, throat irritation & pain, hoarseness, and dry or sore throat. 

Yoga and meditation are also beneficial in Laryngitis. It strengthens the vocal cords and rejuvenates the larynx and throat muscles. It also reduces stress and anxiety to improve overall health and well-being. Some yoga asanas that are best for laryngitis are as follows.

[yesterdayiwrote]

I feel like there's a common misconception about a key piece of Galex lore and everyone's truly missed a whole other level of it.

George and Alex pushed their beds together in Portugal, but as far as I'm aware, in all the versions they tell Alex never actually has or gets a throat infection, it's only George, it's actually one of the Sky pundits who made the comment about an 'infection being passed'.

George was the only one who got sick and had to go home and when he told Sky "I don't know what he did to me in the night", I don't think he's suggesting Alex gave him the sore throat by spreading his germs... I think he's genuinely suggesting (jokingly) that Alex throat-fucked him into laryngitis

[mywritingonlyfans]

Nurturing Love // Alex Turner X Reader! Fluff!

prompt: taking care of alex while he's with laryngitis, spending time together, there's one marriage proposal and cute talks and reader watching glasto with the other gfs.

words: 4,5K. (please give it a try, it's not smut but isn't bad ;')

 You were aware that Alex was tired. And you thought you were going to meet him because of that, but when Matthew jokingly said it was as if Alex got sick from not being close to you, you couldn't help but worry. You knew immediately that your early arrival was due to Alex's state and stubbornness. And then, when he called you on the phone, asking if you were already nearby, you noticed his faltering and high-pitched voice, which went unnoticed by you due to the excitement of returning to his arms again.

"I liked the jacket." He ran his hand over the dark green fabric of the Neca 09, pulling you towards him by the collar. You smiled softly and satisfied to see him, even though he had noticeable dark circles, and you knew you would call his attention for not taking better care of himself.

"Your clothes bring me a special comfort when you're not around, it works well." You kissed his neck, entwining your fingers in the nape of his hair as he hugged you tightly against his body, causing your toes to momentarily leave the ground. You felt like medicine to him, just the feeling of having your warm body close to his already made him feel more energized.

"I'm glad to hear that. I like it when I wear them again and they smell like you." He smiled sincerely, one of those smiles with joyful lines at the corners of his gentle eyes and timidly showing his teeth. You blushed as if it were one of the first times, and he tightened his grip around your waist in contentment. Expressing feelings verbally was more than just words; it was like you found a more meaningful way to say you missed each other.

When you went to kiss him, he caressed your head and kissed your nose. You laughed in denial, "You have a sore throat, don't you? Neither you nor Matthew are good at hiding things." His cheeks turned a rosy blush. He’d question you on that, but it wasn't as if he didn't understand that you could read him very well; he was the same way with you.

"In my defense, it started yesterday, it's not that bad yet." You looked at him suspiciously, and he simply took your bags to the hotel room along with his things.

"And it doesn't hurt?" You sounded skeptical. Alex didn't answer, but from the dry coughs he had already given, you didn't need any answers.

"You don't need to worry, pumpkin. I'm fine." You nodded, watching him lazily snuggle into the bed and cover his eyes due to the brightness. He was trying, that you couldn't deny. You held the hotel phone in your hand, dialing for room service, and soon Alex's attention was on you as you twirled the phone cord around your fingers, ordering lemon and honey tea, soup, and requesting a humidifier. You avoided looking at him, hating to feel like his boss, something that Alex wouldn't deny if you asked him about it. He was certain he would do whatever you wanted, no matter the circumstances.

"Have you eaten today?" You asked softly, and Alex shook his head, still smiling lightly because he liked having you there for him.

"Do the guys know you're not feeling well?" When he denied it once again, he could sense your discomfort matching his own. He didn't need to say that he felt bad about it; they would have another show soon, in fact, in a few hours, and in a few days it would be Glastonbury. It was inevitable, and knowing Alex, you knew his mind was a mess, and in a way, he felt guilty.

"I appreciate you being ‘ere." He made a grabbing motion with his hands, like a child longing for comfort. You joined him, but not before turning off the lights, hoping he could rest for a while. "We'll figure this out, Al. It's not your fault." He nodded, nestling against your chest as your fingers found their way back into his hair, and his arms embraced your waist. "I can still sing, everything’ll be alright," his voice trembled, and you held him closer to you. Not wanting to argue, you simply kissed his cheek, praying it wouldn't worsen as it was still in the early stages, and hoping he would feel better soon.

…

He managed to sleep a little, but unfortunately, it didn't improve his condition. In fact, it left him in more pain than before, and now his throat felt scratchy.

"Alexander, babe?" you whispered, helping him sit up. He murmured softly, "Yes, pumpkin," with difficulty, and watched your worried eyes as you tucked him in with the blankets.

"Promise me you won't strain your voice if you feel it'll cost you too much?" You sounded cautious, knowing it wasn't about you, even though you cared deeply. Besides, you couldn't fathom how detrimental it would be for them to cancel a show, but you still wanted Alex to prioritize his well-being.

"I'm fine, I swear," he smiled, rubbing his hand against his throat. It was clear he was far from fine; you would find it surprising if he even had a voice the next day.

"Promise me, Alex?" You looked at him more seriously, holding the warm cup of tea in your hands, and he nodded. Taking his first sip, feeling the warmth soothing his scratchy throat, he let out a satisfied sigh.

You smiled, settling next to him under the covers. It was strange for Alex to think that he wouldn't have thought of asking for tea, yet it was your first instinct, and it was helping.

"I promise."

"Good," you murmured. It was as if his emotional state reflected onto you, and it was true. You wouldn't be able to feel at your best if he wasn't feeling at his.

Once he finished the tea, he picked up the bowl of soup. He wasn't hungry, but seeing your eyes lacking their usual spark, even if just a little bit, saddened him. So he tried.

"We can share; you probably aren't very hungry." He chuckled, wrinkling his nose as he looked at the spoon.

"Al, I don't think your case is contagious, and even if it were, it wouldn't make a difference. Besides, if you make me stay here for an entire week without kissing you, I'll kill you."

He laughed, looking at you with adoration. He tilted his head slightly, and you followed him. It was slow and gentle, with your noses touching and both of you smiling between kisses like fools. You had missed it so much.

"It must be terrible not being able to kiss me, I agree," you rolled your eyes, his ears were cold but still blushing, while the apple of his cheeks burned with a smile.

He took a spoonful into his mouth, feeling comforted, though he couldn't tell if it was because of you or the soup.

"You know, I had a dream about you. I think I was longing for you so much that I couldn't get you out of my mind, even while sleeping," he said simply, as if it were a routine thing.

"And what was it about?" you asked curiously as he passed you the spoon, and the sweet taste of pumpkin warmed you from the inside.

"I don't remember much, just that it was peaceful, like a big bright house, and you were sleeping on my chest while I whispered something. We were definitely older, but what I remember vividly is the feeling of being safe and happy," his face was still flushed, and it wasn't just from the slight fever he had acquired.

You stayed quiet for a moment, unable to contain a silly smile. "Does that happen often?" His adorable blush was evident in his voice. He was aware that he had just mentioned a future where you were in it, didn't he?

"I’d say so, pumpkin. I think ‘bout it quite a lot,” he replied. And then you both allowed yourselves to be enveloped by silence until the soup was finished, and he made a joke about it being as tasty and sweet as you. It sounded just like Alex, cheeky yet undeniably adorable.

…

The boys had understood, of course, and now it wasn't just you worried about Alex's health. That brought you some relief. They were ready for soundcheck, and although you were restless and watching from a distance, you couldn't stop thinking about how tumultuous his mind must be. "He'll be fine," James reassured, gently patting your back.

The first few notes came out hoarse from his mouth, and as sexy as it might have seemed, it was impossible not to notice that he wasn't well. Every now and then, he would scratch his throat, and Matthew finished the song. "Doesn't pushing himself make it worse?" James looked at you sadly. "Yes, but he doesn't want to hear us. He thinks canceling at the last minute will be bad. He needs rest. You should talk to him; he would listen to you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Me?" James laughed and nodded. "He knows he needs to rest; he's just stubborn. We know he listens to you. He might be fine now, but if he loses his voice, it'll be much worse." And you knew he was right, even though you hated having to be the voice of reason with Alex. You crossed your arms. "You shouldn't have made him sing so many consecutive days. What did you expect?"

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and James seemed pleased with that. "That's the girl we need right now, and don't worry, we won't repeat this mistake." Nonetheless, the show went on, and it was good. If it weren't for the news the next day about the cancellation due to his laryngitis, no one would have even known. However, having watched the show was painful for you, and it brought tears to your eyes. "Mardy Bum" had to be finished by the audience, Matthew covering some parts, and the frequent breaks to catch his breath and drink water. Knowing that his throat must have been hurting like never before made you want to run away with him from there. You had never longed for the end of one of their shows like that.

…

Upon arriving at the hotel room, you helped Alex undress, carefully removing the coat you had wrapped around him after the show. You insisted he take a shower before lying down, even though his body protested. Once you both changed into more comfortable clothes, you assisted him in putting on clean and warm ones. You settled on his lap and gently dried his hair, causing him to close his eyes in serene relief at your touch. You couldn't help but wonder if he was being a bit needy because you were taking care of him, or if he was truly feeling unwell. Either way, you were determined to be there for him.

The night passed quickly, with the two of you cuddled up and intertwined. You lay on your back while he rested his head on your chest, the sound of his rhythmic breathing bringing you comfort as your fingers wandered through his hair, just the way he liked it. The next day was designated solely for his rest, whether he wanted it or not. You woke up early and headed down to the hotel's store to gather some treats that could make his day better. On your way, you ran into Amanda, who had arrived recently to be at the Glastonbury with you as well. She greeted you warmly, comforting you by assuring that Alex would be fine. You couldn't hide the influence Alex had on you, and it was impossible for you to feel okay when he wasn't, not only because he was unwell, but also because you knew he was struggling with the thought of it all. "I think I'll head back. I want to be there when he wakes up," you told Amanda, who held your hand in hers and nodded. Her eyes seemed curious about your intertwined fingers, but you didn't pay much attention as your mind was too overwhelmed to question it. Later, when Kate reacted in a similar way upon seeing you, you accepted that it must be something between them.

Upon returning to the room, Alex was still asleep, and you cautiously snuggled up to him in bed, trying not to wake him. Yet, he slowly opened his eyes, allowing you to nestle against him. He was feeling better, although not necessarily energetic. There was no way he could push himself to perform that night if necessary. He expressed gratitude for having you there for him, knowing that you understood him well enough to know what was best for him when he was being difficult. "I'm proud of you, the show last night was amazing, Al," you said, stroking his chest and planting kisses on his damp cheeks. You understood his self-imposed pressure, but you wanted him to realize that there was nothing wrong with what was happening—unexpected setbacks were bound to occur. He hugged you tighter, and you showered him with more kisses on his face and head. "Would you like me to get you some tea? Or maybe we could catch some sunshine?" you cautiously suggested, thinking of something that could distract him. "No need, right ‘ere is just fine," he replied, rubbing his face against your chest and closing his eyes again. His voice was still hoarse, and he remained as needy as the day before. Fortunately, you had prepared movies to pass the day, and in a way, it comforted both of you. You missed spending time together, and although this wasn't the ideal way for it to happen, you cherished the moments you had. Moreover, Alex was certain that he wouldn't be able to bear being there if it weren't for you. Without you, that room would feel completely unfamiliar and unwelcoming, but with you there, he felt a bit at home, which made him feel safe. It was a beautiful thing that out of all the people in the world, you were his safe harbor.

"I should quit smokin’," he stated, rubbing his face against your chest and closing his eyes again. You looked at him, a bit puzzled. Although you would support him if that's what he wanted, you didn't expect him to bring it up. "Yeah?" you responded, as if he was just voicing an impulsive thought. "Yeah, I think, I mean, you don't smoke. It wouldn't be harmful to you in the near future, right?" He asked as if it was a simple mathematical equation. At any moment he brought up the possibility of a future with you, you felt a bit foolish. It meant a lot to you, and it was lovely to know that it meant something to him too.

"Well, you know, I met you knowing that you smoke. I don't expect that from you, and I don't think it's a concern. Although I appreciate the thought, Al," you smiled, a bit unsure of what to say, but your voice made your silly smile sound loud. He chuckled, noticing it. "Don't you want me to quit smoking?" "I didn't say that, and if you want to, I'll be here to help, but I think there are better reasons and I’m not one of them, at least I shouldn't be one," you replied. He seemed to ponder for a moment, and the comfortable silence enveloped you as your bodies remained intertwined.

"I've been strangely thinkin’ ‘bout how if we were to have children, I wouldn't want to be the person who influences them. And it wouldn't be interesting to be smokin’ ‘round you during that whole process," his voice held something, but it was clear he chose his words carefully. You didn't know what to say, but the atmosphere was purely cozy, and the way you snuggled into his arms was already an answer in itself. “You know, Alex, it's funny how even when you're sick, you're thinking ‘bout shovin’ a baby inside me," he laughed, a nasally sound that filled your chest. "And you love that."

…

Alex already felt at his best. He woke up feeling determined, did what he had in mind to do, and was excited about the evening show. Still, he remembered that he had promised you he would rest after that night. He had brushed his teeth and showered, clearly trying to mask his anxiety. Nevertheless, he kept his attention on you because he wanted to see you waking up, not wanting to miss your expression when you noticed him. As soon as your eyes opened, your sigh of frustration at not having Alex's body there with you was perceptible. He laughed in response, then knelt in front of you, smiling as he saw you groan and wrap yourself in his arms.

"What's wrong?" he arched his eyebrows, holding your face close to his. You seemed to be having difficulty breathing. Until then, you hadn't noticed anything different about yourself apart from the discomfort in your muscles. "I'm afraid you caught something infectious," you laughed, your throat begging for water, even though you knew it wouldn't help. "No way, pumpkin. I told you that," you quickly interrupted him, lightly kissing him until your weak body nestled against his chest. "It's okay. I can get sick. You're the one who has to perform for millions of people and can't, Mr. Turner."

Alex laughed, lifting your spirits. He squeezed you, feeling his own sweaty hands in anticipation. "But I don't want you to get sick, my girl, especially ‘cause of me." He caressed your back, noticing how sleepy you were. He didn't mind if you took the day to stay there, although he preferred to have you there with him during soundcheck and the festival. "It was for a good cause, Al." He laughed, but he didn't seem satisfied at all to see you unwell.

As soon as your dry cough filled the room and your eyes became watery, Alex pulled out a bottle of water for you. And then things happened too quickly for his liking. As soon as it touched your lips, you had already noticed. Your eyes traveled to your fingers, and at the same speed, the silliest smile of all had already settled on his face, his hands still on your waist. He took the water from you, and your eyes went to him, who was still kneeling in front of the bed. Your thumb traced the ring that had been placed on your ring finger during the night, as if it might not be real. He licked his lips, feeling a bit shy. It wasn't as if he didn't know your answer, but it was an important moment, and even with all the unforeseen events that made it messy, he wanted it to be memorably pleasant.

Before he could even ask, you had already thrown yourself into his arms, repeating incessantly that yes, you would. He began laughing like never before, and without a doubt, it would be something etched in his mind, your eyes shining brightly and your face all lit up in response. "I didn't even ask," his cute, nasal voice sounded, making it even sweeter. You held onto his shoulders, pressing your forehead against his as you looked at him excitedly. "Sure, ask so I can answer yes." He laughed more and had to wipe away some stubborn tears with his fingers. "Okay," he swallowed hard, holding you tighter, and you were already nodding your head in agreement. "Will you marry me, my girl?" The flood of "yeses" and the sensation of your body pressed against his made him regain consciousness. It was better than he could have imagined, even though in his plans, that week was supposed to be filled with outings and little surprises. But since you didn't seem to mind. And also, it didn't really matter to him as long as you were comfortable and happy, that was enough for him. The moment stayed in your minds throughout the day. While Alex cleverly convinced you to rest at least while he was doing soundcheck so that you would be feeling better for the show at night, knowing that you wouldn't give up on both, he told you how Kate had helped him choose the ring. It made you feel a little guilty for not paying as much attention to the ring itself while you were realizing what was happening. But that was something he found extremely cute to watch. He said that he had personally engraved his surname on the ring and told he wanted you to do the same with his one. All of this was followed by his sweet and timid voice, and his usual rosy nose that made you want to burst with joy.

You felt happy, but unfortunately, you couldn't deny that your body was killing you, and you needed to rest to make sure you would at least be fit enough to attend Glastonbury later. Alex felt relieved that you agreed, saving his and James' numbers in speed dial and ensuring that he would FaceTime you so that someone could hold the phone and make sure you didn't miss anything. You laughed but cherished every minute of it, and even so, he allowed himself to be delayed for a few more seconds, holding you tightly and making sure you ate just as you had done for him.

And he didn't fail to ask Amanda and Kate to stop by and check on you during that time, which led to a great conversation about the ring and future plans. It was pleasant to be surrounded by them and see how happy they were for you, even though they were stuck in a hotel room with you, no alcohol, just warm soup and tea being shared among you to help you feel better soon.

…

Alex had included your favorite songs in the setlist, and something told you it wasn't accidental. You weren't feeling your best, but you were well enough to be there. Besides, the girls would keep an eye on you to make sure nothing happened. "Alex told me to keep you by the side of the stage and not let you leave, don't be stubborn," James said as soon as he saw you, his tone playful. "Or what, Ford?" He didn't even dare to answer, and this time it was the girls who laughed. You enjoyed the feeling of being among the crowd or in front of the stage in the area reserved for photographers. However, Alex hated that. He always tried to get you away from there. He was afraid that something might happen, and you understood. Most of the time, not always, you gave in and did as he wished, staying close to him.

And on that night, you agreed with him for your own good. He was worried about you enough. If you were exposed to the cold air or felt weak among so many people, it would be terrible for you (as well as for him). Besides, if you knew, he might even stop the show and not continue until he made sure you heard him. You wouldn't doubt that. "James warned me," you chuckled mischievously. They were about to go on stage. He held your cold hand in his, and you could feel the ring against his soft skin. He kissed your also cold nose with a gentle smile and took off his blazer to put it over your layers of coat and scarf. "I know you don't like it, but at least this time, please, pumpkin." You agreed, both knowing that this would happen again in several upcoming shows. "I'll be right here in your line of sight, fiancée." He seemed satisfied with the small victory, finding it cute even though he felt bad that your voice strained from a sore throat. He kissed you. "I won't let you down, okay? I promise?" He spoke softly, his tone laden with vulnerability, and it took you a moment to understand what he meant. "Alex, I know you won't. I said yes for a reason." You hugged him, then cupped his face in your hands. He was emotional, and you found it painfully adorable. Sometimes, you forgot that someone like him also had room for insecurities. "I couldn't be more certain about that, babe. I promise you." He nodded, holding you tightly. Jamie tapped him on the shoulder to let him know they needed to go, and there was a brief moment when all of them slapped your back as if you were best mates, expressing their happiness about it. This transitioned from Alex's worried expression to joyful ones as he saw you blushing with anxiety over not knowing how to react. It was always like this, and they understood you and your way of being. You returned the blazer to him, but he refused. "You're going to sing without it?" you asked incredulously. "It's just for one day, it's fine," he replied as if it were nothing. You thought about insisting, but the truth was that the blazer was warm, and his scent was making you feel good, like a remedy of its own. So, you let yourself hold onto the fabric.

Watching him perform live was always cathartic. This time was no different. The girls joined you, and they didn't hold back from screaming along. You even forced yourself to do the same as much as you could and as far as it was possible. It was all so beautiful. Alex would glance at you now and then, wearing a pure and gentle smile that made you unable to believe your luck. Ah, and it was as if he was never sick, although his voice still sounded slightly stronger than usual, but that was even better. You wondered why you hadn't cried until now, but from the middle to the end, during your most favorite lyrics, as well as those you knew were Alex's favorites, like "Perfect Sense" itself, he started repeating your name amidst the lyrics, and that made you completely melt. Kate had filmed it, and you were eager to see Alex's mother's reaction when she watched the videos. The way Alex looked at you with each note and moment filled your heart in an inexplicable way. He made you understand that there were no limitations to how happy someone could feel. There was always room for a little more of that feeling, and having the certainty in his gaze and actions that it was mutual made you even more his. You could never have enough of him. Every moment spent with Alex felt like a treasure, and you cherished every second.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon@indierockgirrl@bloo-wisteria@bellaturner@cosmoschaotic@nikisfwn@andrews-lovr

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 27: You'll Be In My Heart

Word Count: 729/Rating: M/Pairing: None/CW: canon-compliant, Eddie's funeral, dead dove!!!/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Jeff's POV, Metallica, Corroded Coffin, funeral, death

Divider credit to @silkholland

Life, it seems, will fade away Drifting further every day

Today was the second time Jeff had stood in as Corroded Coffin’s frontman.

The first time was two years ago. Eddie had gotten laryngitis right before a gig and asked Jeff to take over rather than cancel the show altogether.

“You know all the chords and the lyrics,” he’d croaked into the phone. Jeff could hear the smile in his voice. “Go out there and kick ass.”

With abundant trepidation, Jeff took center stage that night, his nerves easing and confidence growing with each note he played. The sound wasn’t as full with only one guitar, and his voice wasn’t as powerful as Eddie’s, but he was good. Good enough to warrant praise from the band’s fearless leader.

Getting lost within myself Nothing matters, no one else

“Don’t let this go to your head, now,” Eddie had teased, clapping a hand on Jeff’s back, “but you made me damn proud. Not just the way you played–Grant and Gareth told me you were a total fuckin’ rockstar, by the way–but for stepping up when we needed you.”

That first time was a celebration. The second time was agony.

Jeff stood behind the microphone at St. Mary’s Catholic Church, feeling Gareth staring at him from where he sat at his drum set. Grant kept his gaze on the strings of his bass, eyes shiny with the threat of tears. If he made eye contact with either of the other two young men beside him, he’d almost certainly begin sobbing.

I have lost the will to live Simply nothing more to give There is nothing more for me Need the end to set me free

Despite having sung the Metallica cover hundreds of times, the lyrics felt foreign coming out of Jeff’s mouth. His voice was warped in his own ears the way a well-loved cassette sounds when the tape unspools.

The crowd was tiny but mighty, if not confusing. Among the expected attendees was Eddie’s Uncle Wayne, who had been the one to ask Corroded Coffin’s three remaining members to play at his nephew’s funeral. It seemed macabre to have a band with the word ‘coffin’ in its name to play such an occasion, but Wayne had insisted upon it.

“It’s what Eddie would’ve wanted,” he’d said, his whiskered jaw trembling the same way it was now.

Things not what they used to be Missing one inside of me Deathly lost, this can't be real Cannot stand this hell I feel

Dustin Henderson sat beside him, lips tucked into his mouth as he swallowed back tears. A running joke among the Hellfire Club was that Dustin hadn’t shut up since the moment he learned to talk, but he’d barely spoken a word since that godforsaken earthquake hit. 

Behind them sat the Sinclairs. Jeff couldn’t help but notice the way Lucas and Erica’s fingers intertwined, eyes stained with the harsh redness that only came from nonstop crying. The whole Wheeler family was situated next to them, along with Mike’s girlfriend from California, her buzzed hair just like Eddie’s back in junior high.

Emptiness is filling me To the point of agony Growing darkness taking dawn I was me, but now he's gone

The most surprising guests were Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. Jeff watched a mascara-tinged tear trail down the awkward band geek’s freckled cheek, the former King of Hawkins High digging into his suit jacket and offering her a Kleenex. He hadn’t been aware that those two were friends nor that they were close enough to Eddie to attend his funeral, but he lacked the energy to question it.

No one but me can save myself, but it's too late Now I can't think, think why I should even try

A calming presence enveloped Jeff as the song neared its conclusion, bringing the same tingle of joy that he’d had when Eddie had lauded him after his first foray into lead guitarist. He wasn’t sure how he’d go on–how the band would go on–without Eddie’s guidance, but he’d solve that problem when his world hadn’t been turned on its head. His job now was simply to be the leader that Grant and Gareth needed. The leader that Eddie had taught him to be.

Yesterday seems as though it never existed Death greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye Goodbye

--

[withacapitalp]

Tell Him (Nothing) Everything Pt 1

Happy Valentine's @excaliburstark !!!! I was your Valentine so I wrote you a super fun 5+1 fic!! I never expected to do Rockstar Eddie or Modern AU just bc they had never appealed to me before, but then once I started writing this I just couldn't stop! I hope you enjoy it

Read it on ao3

Wayne let Eddie waste away for a record four days, three hours, and fifty two minutes before he finally put his foot down. 

“You need to get outta here,” His uncle said, crossing his arms and standing in front of where Eddie was lying on their lumpy comfy couch. 

Eddie tried to look past him and continue to watch whatever daytime soap opera was on, but Wayne just stepped into his field of vision, continuing to give Eddie the no-nonsense look of total reproach. 

He hated that look. Wayne only ever used it when he was right about something. 

“Kicking me out already?” Eddie said, sitting up and stretching, “I’ve only been here a few days, but if I’m already being a bother, I guess I’ll go crawling back to LA,” 

“You bought the damn house, boy, I’m not kicking you nowhere,” Wayne sighed, completely dodging the silly argument Eddie had tried to tangle them in. 

He sat down next to his nephew and put a big warm hand between Eddie’s shoulder blades, forcing him to be grounded in the moment instead of floating off wherever his mind wanted to go. 

“You can’t sit here all day long. It ain’t healthy,” His uncle whispered, becoming disarmingly gentle in the way only Wayne seemed to be able to accomplish. Eddie felt the open wound in his chest start to bleed again, and he shook Wayne off of him with a harsh tug. 

“Yeah, because I’m so concerned about my health right now,” Eddie snarked, fully intending on disappearing up the stairs and going to lie in his bed instead of on the couch where Wayne could nag him. The exhaustion was pulling on him again, weighing him down like lead. 

Unfortunately for Eddie, Wayne was more agile than he looked, and he got to the stairs before his nephew did. 

“Eddie,” Wayne snapped, cutting himself off with a frustrated sigh, before he could say anything more. He took off his cap and rubbed the top of his head, looking for something to say. 

“At least go take a walk in town or somethin’. You need fresh air and sunlight,” 

It wasn’t what Wayne wanted to say. Eddie knew that they were both fully aware of what Wayne wanted to say, but they were also both aware Eddie wasn’t ready to listen yet. 

“There’s plenty of air in here,” Eddie muttered stubbornly, staring down at the ground between them. He felt like a petulant child and not a twenty seven almost twenty eight year old man, but he didn’t want to budge. The idea of being out in the world made him feel sick to his stomach. Eddie didn’t want to be recognized, didn’t want people to come up to him and ask for autographs, or photos, or-

or ask him to talk about her.  

“This is Hawkins, Indiana, Eds. The only people who would recognize you are currently in school. No one here over the age of eighteen would listen to anythin’ like your music,” Wayne said, somehow already guessing where Eddie’s mind had gone, “‘Sides wasn’t the whole point of you comin’ home to be in a place where you could walk around without bein’ afraid of people seein’ you? What’s the point of bein’ here if you do nothin’ but stay home and mope?”

It wasn’t moping. Moping was what happened when you got dumped, or a pet ran away. Eddie had moped when Corroded Coffin’s second album flopped, and after he got laryngitis and had to miss Gareth’s big 25th birthday blowout bash. 

This wasn’t moping. Eddie was…was…

“I’m just tired, Wayne, that’s all,” Eddie said softly, the lie barely audible, even to himself. 

“We both this ain’t tired, Eddie,” Wayne said, gently but firmly calling his nephew on his bullshit, “You don’t handle grief well. And you never have, but-”

No. No. 

“I’m not talking about this,” Eddie interrupted, looking up with slightly deranged eyes, desperation making his voice rough, “I’m not. You promised we wouldn’t have to talk about Chri-”

Eddie cut himself off with a strangled gasp, hating the way just the first syllable of her name made tears start to prick in his eyes. 

“About it,” Eddie amended, his voice completely flat, “You promised we wouldn’t have to talk.”

Wayne studied him without pity. Empathy, sure, there was floods of it, because Wayne had lost her too, but no pity.

That was the real reason Eddie had come back home, fleeing Los Angeles in the middle of the night with barely a half scribbled note of explanation to the rest of the band, and instructions not to follow him despite all of them knowing where Eddie was going. 

Wayne was the only person in his world who wouldn’t pity him right now. 

Eddie could barely stand pity on his best day. It had always gotten under his skin, but right now it was making him go feral. He could only stand so many of Jeff’s sad little glances, and Archie’s quiet attempts to get him to open up. Even Gareth was too much right now. All of them were suffocating him. It was already hard enough to breathe as it was. 

But at this moment, Wayne’s empathy wasn’t much better. It felt like the entire room was slowly being drained of air. 

“Well. Two options,” Wane finally said, putting his cap back on and fixing Eddie with a determined grimace, “You can go out for at least forty five minutes- get some air, take a drive, maybe even come home with some lunch. Or we can sit here and have a nice long talk about our emotions. Your choice.” 

That wasn’t a choice. There wasn’t any choice in that at all. Both Eddie and Wayne knew that, but they also both knew that Wayne would follow through on that threat. He had done it before, and he would do it again, if necessary. He would do just about anything if it meant helping Eddie, even when Eddie didn’t want help. 

“You’re the worst,” Eddie groaned, stomping over to the front door and grabbing his sneakers. Wayne watched with smug satisfaction as Eddie laced up his shoes and grabbed his phone, tucking it into his back pocket before coming over and wrapping his uncle in a fiercely tight hug. 

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled into Wayne’s shoulder. He couldn't leave without saying what Wayne meant to him. Not anymore. Not after what had happened. 

“I love you too, Eds,” Wayne replied, letting his nephew hang onto him for as long as he needed. 

“Forty five minutes at least,” Wayne reminded him as they parted, standing in the doorway and watching as Eddie began trekking down the sidewalk towards the middle of town. 

It barely took ten minutes to get to the town square, and soon enough Eddie was sloping down a fairly busy sidewalk, getting side eyes and judgemental looks from housewives who couldn’t help staring. 

Good to know that some things would always stay the same. 

Eddie had only lived in Hawkins for five years, from the ages of eight to thirteen, along with sporadic visits from time to time since then, but it felt like nothing had changed. 

And maybe it hadn’t, not really. Hawkins was a timestamp town, the kind of place that looked the same no matter what decade it was. One of the deep tracks on Corroded Coffin’s first album had been about Hawkins. 

Well, not exactly, seeing as his bandmates weren’t from Hawkins, but they all grew up in small towns, so they were all able to come up with a pretty banging condemnation track together. 

Crawling out of the place that tried to take my soul, my heart, my mind. 

Creating a cookie cutter version which took the deal the Devil signed. 

Eddie never gave Hawkins the satisfaction of making him one of their sons. When people asked, he said he was from Indianapolis, which was half true. That was a better backstory anyway- a hardscrabble kid from the bad side of the tracks that had collected a bunch of his friends, a couple of second hand instruments, and a dream to change the world. 

No, Eddie wasn’t a fan of Hawkins. 

But oh, Chrissy had loved it here. 

The only reason Eddie had ever come back had been her. If he had it his way, Wayne would just come visit him whenever he wanted. Eddie could afford the plane tickets. But Chrissy saw some magic in the cul-de-sacs, the long winding corn rows, the people who would clutch their pearls whenever they saw the two of them walking down the street. 

Eddie had never understood it. 

And now he never would.  

There it was. The feeling of a phantom limb. Was it possible to have that if you still had all four? It was a sensation he would never be able to explain, a physical sense of loss that ran through his veins like poison. Eddie’s hand was empty, when it should be clutched onto someone else’s. There should be a sweet little light by his side, skipping along the sidewalk and teasing Eddie for being way too scary looking to survive in Hawkins. 

Eddie’s other half was missing, and he didn’t know how to begin making the world make sense again. 

He was so focused on that feeling that he didn’t see the glass door in front of him until it was way too late. Eddie crashed right into it, face fully smashing against the glass, collapsing on the ground with a loud curse and a stinging pain in his wrist from landing on it wrong. 

See. This is what happened when Eddie tried to go outside. He should’ve just stayed home and put his fingers in his ears, singing nonsense until his uncle gave up on trying to make him acknowledge his emotions. 

Instead here he was lying on the ground in the middle of Hawkins fucking Indiana at what had to be ultimate rock bottom. 

“Oh my gosh!” A deep voice from above him said, a tanned hand invading his vision, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, taking the offered hand and letting himself get pulled up, “I’m o-”

Oh. My. God.  

Eddie lived in the pretty people capital of the country. Not only was he the lead singer of a world renowned band who was an out and proud bisexual, he was known to be somewhat of a slut. Suffice to say Eddie had both gorgeous women and gorgeous men throwing themselves at him almost constantly. 

There was no short supply of people who wanted a night with The Eddie Munson. 

But none of them held a candle to the man in front of him who was still holding onto his hand. 

“Oh, that looks like it hurts,” Small Town Adonis fretted, finally letting go only to lean in close and take Eddie’s chin in his hand. Eddie stiffened as his head was turned from side to side, giving the other man a better view of whatever bruise was starting to bloom on his jaw. It was a perfectly convenient excuse to oogle, so Eddie did. 

The stranger was a couple inches shorter than Eddie, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in muscle. He had broad shoulders and a strong square jaw that was probably deliciously sensitive. His hazel eyes were hidden behind thin wire frame glasses that only added to his charm, and his hair was to die for. Eddie usually prided himself on being the person with the best hair in the room, but this guy might have him beat. 

And, he was wearing a lemon sweater and a bright blue apron that had cat paws printed all over it. 

That shouldn’t have worked for Eddie. 

It was so working for him. 

“No worries,” Eddie said breathlessly, his heart still racing as he let the stranger move his face around as he pleased. All of his exhaustion had vanished at the speed of light, replaced by a warm feeling in his chest and a blush that was beginning to grow on his cheeks. 

“I don’t think anything is broken, thank god,” The man said, relieved. He stepped back and readjusted the sign that had been holding open the door to his shop, “Here, come inside and I’ll get you an ice pack. Maybe a lemon bar on the house? If you like lemons?” 

He seemed pretty nervous, and Eddie internally rolled his eyes, some of his attraction fading. Of course the guy was going over the top. He was probably worried that his little podunk shop was about to go under, all because a rockstar happened to crash into his open front door. 

“You don’t need to do all that. I’m not gonna like sue you or anything,” Eddie said, letting the tiny fluttering crush that had begun to bloom wilt once more. Once again he wasn’t real, just something to be gawked at. 

But the stranger wasn’t gawking. He was almost glaring. 

“Well, I would hope you weren’t thinking about suing me seeing as you walked into my door,” The man said, his voice dripping with derision. He even had his hands on his goddamn hips like some PTA mom. 

Wayne telling Eddie that no one in town would recognize him was one thing, but actually seeing that people wouldn’t know him simply by sight was another thing entirely. 

Since Corroded Coffin went viral in 2012, launching into stardom at the speed of light, Eddie had been forced to live with the fact that everyone knew he was. That was the tradeoff. You get everything you ever wanted, become a rockstar like every kid dreams of being, and the world gets to own you. At seventeen he had naively signed off on that, and now at twenty seven there was no way to go back and throttle that kid into actually thinking about the consequences. 

But the man in front of him had literally no clue who he was. 

It was strange. It was bizarre. It was like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.  

It was… enthralling.  

“You really don’t recognize me?” Eddie pressed, needing to be sure. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had pretended they didn’t know who he was. Lots of people wanted to get close to him for one reason or another. Eddie had to practice constant vigilance, or risk having everything he worked for blown apart. 

“Should I?” Apron Man asked, looking concerned. He raised a brow and looked around the fairly empty street, as if trying to parse out exactly why Eddie would be someone he should know. 

Wonderful. The beautiful man was in fact a rare angel that knew nothing about Eddie, and Eddie was now officially the weirdo who had not only smacked his face into the door, but also maybe threatened to sue and demanded that a total stranger recognize him. Just perfect.

“No um we’ve never- I’m-” Eddie cut off his fumbling with a groan, pulling his long curls in front of his face and wishing he could disappear off the face of the earth, “Sorry I must sound like a lunatic,”

“Or someone with a concussion. Trust me I’ve had plenty of them,” The man said with a kind smile. He put one foot in the doorway of his store and waved his hand behind him, “Come on in! I’ll check you out, and we can see about that lemon bar,” 

Eddie silently followed the man like a lost puppy, marveling at the inside of the store. It was a cafe, the walls painted a soft creamy yellow and decorated with hand drawn paintings of cats in various positions. There were tiny round tables with squashy arm chairs, and a high bar by the counter with comfy looking stools. 

The smell of cinnamon hung in the air, and Eddie’s entire body instantly relaxed. It was like sinking into a warm bath, everything in the room designed to put a person completely at ease. 

Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. 

“Here. Welcome to Claudia’s,” The stranger said kindly, handing Eddie a blue freezer pack and gently pushing him towards one of the arm chairs. . 

“Thanks. I’m Eddie…” 

He trailed off, considering his next words. Eddie Munson. Even if the man didn’t know his face, he would probably know his name. Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin. Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll wrapped up into one real life person. He could be honest right now, tell this stranger the truth, and see how he changed once he knew. 

Or he could play a little game, get a little distance from the person he wasn’t sure he wanted to be anymore. 

“I’m Eddie.” He repeated, more firmly and more sure of his decision. 

“Well, Eddie, Eddie,” Apron Man teased, making Eddie’s cheeks heat up in a furious blush, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve Harrington.” 

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

ARCTIC MONKEYS 25/06/23

okay now that i've had some time to (slightly) emotionally and physically recover from yesterday, i need to flail about the highlights:

1) meeting one of my absolute favourite humans who i would never have got to know if it hadn't been for this little corner of tumblr - and then getting to share the excitement/nerves/elation/exhaustion rollercoaster of seeing am with them was just - there aren't even words for it. so special 💖

2) learning how to navigate rain ponchos

3) impulse buying too much merch (but also not regretting it. the glasgow tour poster is going to be the first thing going on my wall in my new flat)

4) the mirrorball starting to twirl just before they all came onstage and sending the colours of the afternoon sun everywhere

5) the sheer rush of the moment they all walked onstage together (also that was pretty much the only time i got to glimpse nick and matt at all 💔 from where i was standing i could mostly only see alex and jamie)

6) seeing alex a few metres away in real life after months of looking at his beautiful, dorky little expressions in photos/videos was surreal in the best possible way- there's just something so different about the way you get a sense of someone's energy when you're in the same space with them?? and as someone who's endlessly interested in people, i'm fascinated by how alex simultaneously gives off really reserved, self-contained vibes at the same time as being such a dynamic and captivating performer - like he’s so good at tapping into emotions without letting them be a door into how he’s actually feeling (if that makes any sense, my post-gig brain is not very articulate) i guess that all very much makes sense with all the stuff he's said about personas/performing, but it was still so interesting to get to really feel that sense of his presence in live time. he's definitely very much in control but in a very understated kind of way

7) a bunch of birds circling overhead on one side of the crowd, alex seeing them and dramatically declaring 'release the rest of the birds' 

8) me and the lovely human i went with turning to each other with expressions of sheer joy when the opening bars of crying lightning were played (and don't sit down. and four stars. and arabella. and - you get the picture. getting to share the sheer delight of your favourite songs being played is just the loveliest feeling 💗)

9) alex doing a quirky little 'ha ha' laugh in the middle of body paint 

10) mirrorball coinciding with the most beautiful pink dusk and half moon just above the stage, and getting to witness alex’s piano playing at the start of it

11) body paint. just. body paint. i think my soul left my body.

12) how much energy and enthusiasm alex seemed to have throughout the set - especially after the last week or so it was just the loveliest thing to see him messing about and having fun. and his voice sounded SO good. how anyone manages to sing like that (let alone sound like that less than a week after cancelling shows due to laryngitis) is an absolute mystery to me

13) alex's theatrical hand gestures for crying lightning (the one for gobstopper was a particular favourite)

14) hearing 505 when dusk has just fallen and you can see the smudged moon behind the deep indigo clouds is the only way anyone should ever hear 505 

15) alex and matt having a giggle about something mid set

16) obviously i was aware of how stupidly talented they all are - but there's something about seeing it unfold in front of you in real time that makes it really hit you. the sound wasn't great where i was for some of the time so i don't feel like i got the best audio sense of everything, but i was just so struck in particular by matt on the drums and also alex with his guitar playing. i feel like when i'm just listening to their records i'm so busy listening to alex's voice that i forget how incredible a guitar player he is and - wow. just. yeah. it honestly took my breath away.

17) getting the distinct impression that it provides alex with a sense of amusement to deliberately do that thing where he sings the lyrics at slightly different speeds to trip the crowd up

18) even though i ended up being in significant pain for the second half of the set and had to go find somewhere a little further back where i could lean against the railings (chronic pain conditions and standing for 6+ hours apparently isn't the best mix), nothing could dull how magical it was hearing all the tracks from the car that they played closer to the end. standing there in the dusk and feeling so much about everything is something i'll never forget. it truly brought home to me so poignantly everything about why am's music means so much to me and how much love i have for them 💜

19) being in the exact line of direction alex blew kisses to at the end

20) the hazy post-gig walking in the dark under lit up green trees with the lovely human i went with and our conversations about am and creativity and the courage of sharing music 💖

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #11

11. GREECE Marina Satti - "Zari" 11th place

Decade Ranking: 38/153 [Above Pasha Parfeny, belowGjon's Tears]

The internet is sometimes so strange yo. Fans went ABSOLUTELY FERAL over "Zari" over release, were sacrificing their firstborn sons (metaphorically. most of them -thankfully- won't ever procreate) declaring it a POTENTIAL WINNER, A CLEAR TOP TENNER. Even now, the chants of ZARI WAS ROBBED are still ongoing even if they calmed down a bit since the Final last month.

Meanwhile, I was sitting on my island thinking "um why do these human skidmarks enjoy that horribe cacaphonous abortion of a song?"

YES, that was the take preshow, and I'm not sorry about it. "Zari" was a lot of shit and most of it was... well... shit. Ethnic instruments that were thrown together with zero regard for harmony, pivoting between "edgy" hiphop and "romantic" downtempo bits at the drop of a pin. The TA TA TA? A throbbing MIGRAINE of a chorus (I guess? I don't get headaches, I only cause them). "Zari" was tailored for Zoomers so again, why is this OLD ASS MILLENNIAL (lol she's three years older than I am) playing up to people half her age... by using TikTok memes? Stick to your generation, nerd. It was like a dozen Greek clichés haphazardly strung together as the ultimate clickbait. Borderline un-fucking-listenable.

Now, I am FULLY aware that take puts me in mortal peril since the first and only step in Marina Satti fandom is to make it your personality. I've accepted the fact that a gang of Zari Zombies will be standing at my front door all

but it's MY TRUTH, children and the truth WILL out!. The song was a mess in studio version and that a hill I'll happily die on! Annoying song + obnoxious fanbase => I was SO ready to rank it low and be veeeeery petty and supercilious about it!!! You know, the usual Me Stuff.

But then... we get to the semi and turns out "Zari" t actually works really well and its fans were right all along lmfao oops!!! MORPH!!

Yeah, "Zari" was just the contemporary and Greek equivalent of "My Slowianie", wasn't it? (you'd better say Yes, because I'll compare them for the rest of this post...x) Esothertic ethic mess that somehow functions as a Stage Piece. Obviously NOT AS GOOD as "My Slowianie" (a social media overlay does NOT compensate for the lack of butter churners - where are the olive press workers, hmm?), but it was a decent enough forllow-up, on the clock ten years after Cleo.

Not a large part in the live being good was Marina herself though. Laryngitis or not, she went HARD.

GIRLBOSS

GASLIGHT

GATEKEEP

This is loads of fun!!! I hear the Satti Stans were disappointed by the stage presentation and that is fuckin' daft. The act was honestly... hot and slay and sold the song. It wasn't without faults (the styling and social media overlays were SOOO tacky lmfaooo), but christ who the fuck cares about a few inaccuracies after Marina took the camera (literally? lol) and ran away with it. Second most charismatic on-stage personality in this year after Ladaniva.

The one-shot camera

into the choreographies

into the explosion of colour

into a diffusion of energy that interacted with the audience-

heralded the metamorphosis from an obnoxious TikTok degenerate into a very well-executed Eurovision entrant that - despite possessing multiple ideas that shouldn't work on paper - got most of its shit right, in the correct dosage. It was more than enough to drag me on board, and I was a massive fucking sceptic! It worked, period.

At the end of the day, 11th place is actually a perfect result for Marina.

First off, it's where I've ranked her myself. (which was unplanned, since i fold the songs into my excel first before I look at their overall placements)

Secondly, I never thought she would be top 10 (then again, the only people who thought that were the contingent of her fanbase that thought she was the main character of Eurovision 2024 (over... Eden, Joost, Baby Lasagna and Nemo? lol.), and also thought she'd WIN which is a whole nother slice of insanity ham.)

And thirdly, some of the things Marina did were better executed by some of the remaining artists so it makes sense she didn't outrank them, here or on the scoreboard. She wasn't the biggest revelation (Ireland was), nor the most charismatic (Armenia were) nor the best girlbop (Italy, sort of), etc. She was very good at all of those things, but not the top dog.

In sum, "Zari" is just too um... unconventional to win many juries over. It did as well as it could have done, and still got left side thanks to a beefy televote. That's a good result in my book. It's good when my negative first impressions are proven unfounded by a strong and engaging live, and even better when these growers are rewarded with highish spots. Such results can only benefit the battles, which needs all the small victories it can get.

Pity I'm really that keen on dragging Olly Alexander into my top ten, huh?

CONGRATULATIONS TOP TEN!!!

(not in order...x)

[mrschwartz]

god i don't know. idk if it's just bc i have Such a great relationship with my dad + i'm absolutely not one bit normal about alex being the uncle of the group but that clip of him wishing a happy father's day from last year just hit me so hard i watched it on a loop like 27 times just thinking about how like. first of all his choice to use the word "daddy" not one not two but THREE times and one of those to refer to his brothers and another to his own dad........like that's just him being cute but what prompted him??? is that a word in his day to day vocabulary??? and i truly don't mean it in a sexual way bc i do actually hate it when people talk about this word in a sexual way, i just mean like. when he's talking to the band's kids, does he refer to their dads as daddies to them? like, when they go ask him something does he answer with "um i dunno ask your mummy and daddy"???? the fact that he sees these guys he grew up with as fathers....like including them in his happy father's day wishes didn't involve any hesitation, and like. i don't know how to word this but how Deeply self aware this places him in my mind as someone who IS the uncle of the group. he's happy for his friends and loves their kids and my heart fucking flutters at that thought........Also. does he call his OWN dad daddy??? as a grown man?? i mean i'm a grown woman and i 100% call my mom mommy and my dad daddy so i Guess i get it but it'd still surprise me so much if he did just bc of his personality and general demeanor.....and like maybe he doesn't Still. but did when he was younger maybe, which also counts as adorable in my book. ALSO. the fact that this happened june 18, alongside everything else that happened that day!!! miles and the laryngitis and the other band members looking out for him. the fact that his parents were there!! he got to wish a happy father's day to his dad with him THERE. and then play the song he partially inspired (star treatment) immediately after. and Then. walk out after the show hugging them bc he loves them obv but also bc he probably hadn't seen them in so long but Also bc it was father's day but Also Also bc he had laryngitis and wasn't feeling so good.......anyway yeah i love my dad this post is about me loving my dad actually

[marvelmaniac715]

will you please help me with my fight against cancer? I had stage 4 Laryngeal Cancer, voicebox removed. Now I’m fighting the Lung Cancer. They found 4 cancer spots on my brain, I really need your help with fighting this Cancer in my brain, I appreciate anything 🙏 ❤️

I am so, so sorry. Cancer is an awful, devastating illness that nobody should have to go through - you are an extraordinarily courageous person. But I’m just a college kid who geeks out about Starkid and writes fanfiction at midnight or before classes - I don’t have any money of my own at my disposal to help you. But maybe since I’ve published this ask you could find someone who is able to donate, because raising awareness is really all I can do. I hope you’re able to beat this and that you’re not in too much pain, and I’m genuinely so sorry that I cannot help you more.

[emilieautumnarchives]

RUSSIAN BRIDE

Posted: February 21, 2006 Archived from The Official Asylum Forums Archived from BonnyTymePyrate’s Journal Archives

I emerged victorious this morning from my laryngitis-induced house arrest. Muscles near atrophy after four feverish days of bed-rest and mind a little unsure of what the present year was, I ventured forth to test the weather with the usual feeling that I'd forgotten something. I soon found that I had - my other six coats, because apparently the two that I was wearing were not sufficient. I'd also forgotten to charge the iPod, which leads to a fate worse than death - riding the train to the sounds of a man on his cell phone debating loudly the merits of various brands of frozen pizza. So I fought back in my own small way by playing Mozart Violin Concerto No. 4 over and over in my head with full orchestration, but had to surrender at last when the small boy sitting behind me whipped out a harmonica. No fucking joke.

Now I'm settled into a corner of the Urban Tea Lounge, very urban, more tea, less lounge. I've ordered a pot of the White Chocolate Mousse tea and a cinnamon scone with strawberry preserves. I wasn't supposed to write anything new because that would invariably lead to my trying to sneak it onto the record before final pressing, but I couldn't help laying down some harpsichord for it anyway at 5am this morning. It's called "Russian Bride," not that it matters because you won't hear it for ages, that's how disciplined I'm endeavoring to be. And to prove it, my phone is turned off.

The cinnamon scone is a delightful 2 pounds lighter than your average scone, which is a good thing as it's the first solid thing I've digested since the most obscene birthday cake of four days ago (I'd show you pictures of what I look like right now, but I think the film "Powder" would sue me for copyright infringement), unless of course you count the dozen antibiotic pills I swallowed (not at once) which came from Italy and which were not prescribed to me (no need to tell me how stupid that is, I'm marvelously aware of it).

God, I've really been a lazy fucktart, haven't I. Gillions of pictures, videos, and tales from the show last month, and several more adventures in between, and I just haven't been able to sit still and focus on such tasks. Sorry.

Planning travel today, to Canada and then Texas of all places, both for music festivals, but neither for playing, just making appearances, and setting cities on fire with cohorts, so if you hear anything on the nightly news, you don't know a thing.

I've been toying with the idea of finally giving in and becoming a Suicide Girl lately, not for any particular reason other than, perhaps, revenge, which is either the best or the worst reason to do anything, I'm not sure which. Scones just have a way of disappearing, don't they.

I've also decided to reward myself for finishing the album by allowing myself to learn Japanese, so if anybody out there has a Mixi account, please do consider sending me an invite and I'll do my best to correspond with you in unintentionally borderline offensive wording. Which reminds me, why does it seem that so much of what we do in our lives revolves around (is "revolves around" redundant? no, no, I don't think so either) retracing our breadcrumbs to our past and making friends with it? I'll explain what I mean by this later. Maybe.

Tea is cold, time to move on. I've been writing this entry and a sheet of lyrics on the table side by side, and I just forgot which was which and started singing along to my diary entry, fuck ambidextrousnessosityidle..ess..ness...

Buy and sell me like a russian bride Follow me and see how well I hide Worship me thus from a distance Trust me you don't want to miss this First I'll take the bluest vein I own Then I'll make a tourniquet You've shown me this remember remember I don't even mind in fact No this is not a desperate act this Time makes no saints that history can't disgrace Shame or break and then erase

blibbledyblobbildyblook...

Bloody Crumpet Joo Hee and I went with Lord Leicester to high tea last week at the Peninsula Hotel. Not only is it THE place for high tea, it is apparently also THE place for vegan high tea, though you do have to call ahead to alert the chef, which I doubly did. It seems the kitchen staff needs a good bit of time to contemplate the soy pudding with plum wine and coconut before they can actually stomach the thought of actually preparing it. We made fun of the string quartet, had more champagne than tea, and didn't return home again until 4am the next morning, half of which I can't explain, the other half of which I can't remember. Suffice it to say that the three of us very narrowly escaped becoming the pampered pets/sex slaves of a bored Brazilian lass and her doting-yet-allegedly-platonic minder. After Leicester's ankle was violently molested before the fireplace in the hotel cocktail lounge, we ran for the clubs where my ankles could be violently molested.

There, Joo Hee and I were photographed for the third time by a gentleman who oddly seems to manifest himself wherever we happen to be. Finding the pictures online later, I share them with you now, for the specific reason that now you can NEVER say I only show you the good pictures:

If we ever again decide to go to Y-Bar on a Wednesday night, I hereby authorize any one of you to intervene, because the place was packed with frat boys and their sorority counterparts complete with frosted eyeshadow, and the inappropriately raucous office party, which wasn't funny until a promoter came up to us and gave us an invitation to "the after-party" at another establishment. "After-party"?? For what? The copy guy's promotion to assistant manager? Maybe another time, thanks.

In other news, I'll be recording death-metal violin this week on the new album from dear UK friends "AVOIDANCE OF DOUBT" because they were gracious enough to ask me and I was flattered to accept. I will sacrifice another crumpet to the good fortune of the mission ahead.

Love & Bloody Crumpets, EA

[ayurvedictipsforall]

KNOW THE INDICATORS OF LARYNGITIS

Laryngitis is the inflammation of the voice box, causing hoarseness, sore throat, and even loss of voice. But don't worry, we've got you covered with some key indicators in this post.

If you're experiencing these laryngitis symptoms, it's best to give your vocal cords some rest and consult a healthcare professional. Remember, early detection and proper care can help you get back to speaking confidently in no time.

Spread awareness by sharing this post with your friends and family. Let's empower everyone to take care of their precious voices. 

Empower your health journey today with Dr. Sharda Ayurveda.

[pillarsalt]

i'm snails anon, i'm sorry i don't have a copy of the ask and i'm having trouble remembering it exactly other than that i was asking about how to embrace the physical state of being a woman, in a female body. i know my transition was in part motivated by a drive to escape womanhood, and even though i feel like i'm making okay progress on learning how to accept being gnc and have beaten most of the silly social dysphoria about gender role issues, my physical dysphoria hasn't improved at all. i'm considering retransition, but i don't want to decide to do that if i know it's coming from this place of pain i'm in where i can't tolerate the physical reality of my own body. i've learned how to overcome my negative thoughts about parts of my body that aren't my sex characteristics, but i am still so overcome with this desire to be physically male, even if only in imitation. i feel like i have a responsibility to figure out if there's any way i could embrace womanhood, if it's possible for every woman to learn to do, and if so, how would i do that? it really means a lot to me that you read my ask and want to answer, i have a lot of respect for you and your art and i'm so glad you're willing to talk with me :)

Thanks for coming back, I can't believe I lost your old ask. I started writing and saved it to drafts, and suddenly it was neither in my drafts nor my inbox anymore. Fucking tumblr. Wrote this one in the notes app to be safe.

Anyway, I wanted to preface that I'm not professionally qualified in any capacity to give advice when it comes to dysphoria, transition, or health stuff in general. I can only give my opinion from what I have seen, read, and learned over the years. I'm also not someone who has experience with detransition, but I know there are many women on tumblr/radblr who are and if anyone reading this feels like they can offer more advice to anon absolutely don't hesitate to add on, I'll boost it.

So as I understand it, you know that you can't actually become male and you want to accept the fact that you're female, but your female anatomy distresses you to the point of wanting to medically alter it to look as "male" as possible. That's a really tough situation to be in. The insight and self awareness you have is admirable. I can tell you want to make the best choices possible, and it's so hard to tell what the right thing to do is.

I think the biggest thing I can emphasize about embracing womanhood is that you don't have to love being female. Even though it would be great if it was the case, I don't know of many women who wake up and think "I love being female so much." That's certainly not how I feel. Even though being male or female is just a neutral condition of birth, patriarchal society has made being female feel like a huge hindrance and unsafe and just generally shitty. That doesn't make it true though. The real goal is body neutrality. Looking in the mirror and not thinking "my breasts are disgusting and ugly" or "my breasts are powerful and beautiful" (lol) but "those are my breasts, they are part of my body, they are healthy and that's a good thing." That's just an example but it applies to your whole body. There's no should and shouldn't when it comes to your body, it just is.

The thing is that medical transition is not good for you. It may help you feel better in the short term, but in the long run, taking cross-sex hormones has a litany of life-changing side effects that can run from annoying to horrifc to deadly.

From different detransitioning women on here and on twitter (detransaqua, ImWatson91, catcattinson, somenuancepls are some from twitter i'm thinking of but there are many more), I have heard about medical transition leading to uterine atrophy, which has in turn lead to sepsis. Pain and irritation from clitoral growth that becomes unbearable and doctors will only prescribe useless numbing cream. Painful laryngeal spasms where the sufferer can barely speak and has to be surgically corrected if therapy doesn't work. Testosterone greatly increases your chance of heart disease and heart attacks. It exacerbates many pre-existing mental illnesses (they may tell you it alleviates depression but that is often only temporary, but they won't tell you it can trigger psychosis and mania as well). At this point, I can only see medical transition as delusion when uninformed of the risks, and self harm when you are aware of what you're doing to yourself. I really, really wish that it was a real solution, because I know dysphoria is also incredibly distressing and feels like it will never end, but I just can't condone women hurting themselves because they hate their bodies. And ask yourself, when will it be enough? How many surgeries, how much hrt will it take to FINALLY be happy with your body? Is it an endless chase towards a goal you can never really reach? Will that make you happier than working towards caring for your body, which is something you can actually realistically attain?

Nothing is wrong with your body, and nothing ever has been. Understanding that is embracing the fact that you are female. And I do believe it is possible for every woman, including you. Our world tells us we as women are made of parts to be divided up and analyzed and criticized and cut and sewn and thrown away. Say no. Say "fuck you, I deserve to live freely and take up space and exist the way I am without apology. There's nothing wrong with me." Walk around like you're hot shit, even if you don't feel that way. Practice having a "I fucking dare you to try me" energy when you hear see or think anything negative about the female body, that's helped me a lot. Any habit takes repetition, it always always gets easier with time. It will take a long time, I know that and you can't rush it. But it's so worth it.

The best thing you can do is TALK to other women who have gone through this. Please don't be afraid to reach out. You have never been alone in this and you never will be. Again, if anyone reading this has advice for anon, or you want to let her know she can talk to you for advice or encouragement, please absolutely add your input. Also check out @detransition if you haven't yet, it has a ton of resources.

Anon, thank you for asking this, I've been thinking about it for days. In summary, my advice is to protect your body, learn and practice healthy coping skills for your dysphoria, connect with other women. THAT is embracing womanhood, and I absolutely believe you can do it. We're rooting for you and we have your back.

[ethereousdelirious]

CW // IRL/SELF OBS

I either have demon allergies from hell or some sort of unspecified respiratory virus, so in acknowledgement of that, here's that fever obs I promised y'all last month and never delivered on

The backstory:

I was a very healthy adolescent/young adult so I had no real experience with any sort of prolonged fever. Then I managed to catch the flu last month (tested positive for Influenza A 💀) and came down with an Actual Fever, and figured I'd dump my observations here for fic reference (or whacking off, if that's more your cup of tea)

Here's my account. I tried to lock in on the interesting, sickfic-y details

The good shit:

-I had a scratchy throat and a cough for 2 days beforehand that I thought was laryngitis from talking too much (my friend had been visiting so I was YAPPING)

-Then the reckoning began

Fever 102-103°F

-I woke up on Day 3 with a fever. I had never had a fever before. I knew exactly what was wrong with me. My skin felt wrong and I was cold even though I could tell, somehow, that my apartment was warm. There was some sort of perception-reality mismatch that I was deeply aware of.

-I really could not get warm. I was shivering under piles of blankets, and I remember thinking, "If anyone tried to snuggle me warm, sickfic style rn I think i would Actually Kill Them." When I tell you I did not want to be bothered.

-I even tried to romanticize it like "teehee, if I was in a sickfic right now, I would want my Caretaker to... to, um... uh..." I honestly just wanted to be left the hell alone so I could sleep.

-I was SO fucking tired?? When I got up for like food or whatever, I started not letting myself sit down because I knew I would start to fall asleep, and then I'd have to haul myself back up to go to bed. I swear I've never used so much willpower and self-discipline in my LIFE, but it took so much determination to stand up and go to bed. It didn't matter if I was in the middle of eating or making coffee, if I got tired, it was either go to bed or collapse.

-The only time I ever felt too hot was when I tried to drink coffee for my caffeine addiction. I lasted about two sips before I started burning up and falling asleep and reckoned I had about 60 seconds to decide if I was gonna go to bed or let it happen in an armchair with a mug of hot coffee in my hand. (I went to bed).

-Overall, I was very able to do things for myself. I was slow and tired, but I felt like my mental energy was fine enough. I managed to take care of my dog and eat (sort of) and all that

-My focus felt very narrow. I could really only focus on one thought or task at a time, with no room for planning. (So no "I'll eat something, then have some water, take my dog out, and go back to bed." It was one thought at a time.)

-Speaking of eating...

-I had NO appetite, so I started forcing myself to drink milk every time I woke up. I can easily see how a character could become dehydrated or forget to eat when feverish. I had 0 hunger cues. All I wanted was popsicles for my sore throat.

-Because I have sickfic brainrot, I was constantly asking myself: "Could I push through this? What tasks could I perform if I absolutely had to?"

-I decided that driving was a definite no. Curiously, I also couldn't stand up straight, like I was too tired. However, I estimated that, with sufficient adrenaline, I could probably perform cardiovascular exercises if needed (so yes running, no weightlifting). And, though I think it really would have hindered my recovery, I probably could have forced myself to stay awake and do computer or paper tasks that required no creativity. (So clerical tasks, filling out paperwork, basic math, etc)

Fever in the 100s

-Day 4 was the day I got the Sickfic Cough

-We're talking like choking, desperate, "something in my chest needs OUT!" kinda coughs. A couple times it even got so bad it triggered my gag reflex, but thankfully nothing came of that

-I was still tired, but I finally had the presence of mind to talk to text people instead of just scrolling on Tumblr

-For some reason I got a craving for Asian pears that I was tragically unable to fulfill. If I'd had a lovely sickfic Caretaker to fetch me Asian pears I swear I would have married them.

-SO. FUCKING. COLD. This was really the day I started longing for a "Character B," if you will. I wanted somebody to hold me sooo badly. But alas I had to make do with extra blankets.

-Then I started waking up absolutely DRENCHED in sweat, aware that my internal temperature was too high but absolutely FREEZING. Again, I would have loved for someone to help me wash my bedding and get new pajamas and run me a bath, but it was just me. So the sheets went unchanged and I started having to cycle through pajamas and it was fine.

-^This apparently had nothing to do with my fever "breaking," because it happened many times with my temperature sort of bouncing around the 100-102 zone with no particular pattern to speak of

Brief Interlude on Physical Appearance

-Both days I had a fever, I honestly thought I looked lovely. I've had a few stomach bugs before and turned so pale I was basically green, but this kind of had me a yellowish pale? I have a golden undertone so I think that had something to do with it. I didn't notice any "fever glaze" to my eyes, nor any red cheeks, but my eyelids looked darker? It was really very flattering. If my hair hadn't been so fucked up I would have taken some selfies, but alas, I looked like a bog creature.

-I can kinda see what the Victorians/menhera girlies are on about....

Recovering

-Day 5 was uneventful. I woke up without a fever and had to drag my ass to urgent care to get a return-to-work note because I never bothered to link up with a PCP (I know, I know)

-Here's a bonus scenario for you all: I arrived at the urgent care a little after opening only to find a sign on the door that the staff was having a meeting and the urgent care was opening an hour late. So I had the choice of spending 20 minutes standing out in the cold. while recovering from the flu. or to walk back to my car. neither of which I particularly wanted to do.

-I waited in my car. When I finally saw the a provider, she was so unconcerned about me that I was almost offended

-(Not in a bad way, just that I felt awful and had spent the last day wanting someone to "Oh poor baby" me, but in the medical field, an otherwise healthy, polite 20-something with no other health concerns than "recovering from the flu" is not even remotely a big deal)

The symptoms stuff is done now, but I figured I'd include the medical system details in case anyone wants them, or for me to reference later:

-For the medical details: An MA (medical assistant) took me back and asked me the routine questions (symptoms, when did they start, any major concerns, date of last period— they didn't give me a pregnancy test, which I appreciated, but afaik policy on that varies from location to location), and took my temperature and blood pressure. This was done with me in one of the normal chairs on the floor.

-The MA also verified I had tested negative for COVID at home, and swabbed my nose for a flu test

-The NP (nurse practitioner) who came in later had me hop up on the exam table, verified my answers about my symptoms, and listened to my lungs with a stethoscope. She was the one who gave me the results of the flu test. She skimmed over educating me on recovery, presumably because I'm young, healthy, and seemed very comfortable and familiar with everything that was going on (I was— both my parents worked in the medical field, my sister is a nurse, and I work in medical records). She prescribed me something to help with my cough and sent me on my way with some printouts detailing what I symptoms I could expect as I recovered, my return-to-work note, and (for some reason) my name and blood pressure

-And that was that

That's all! I hope this was, if not informative, sexy, or helpful, at least mildly interesting :)

[delhiapollo]

Trusted Oncological Care With Trusted Hands

It is but natural that the best cancer hospital in Delhi is the right place to find the best oncologist in Delhi. Equipped with the highest qualifications and ably assisted by an efficient support staff, the oncologists at the world-class Indraprastha Apollo Hospital provide cancer patients the best care possible. The top-end facilities, equipment and techniques available to a cancer specialist here go a long way in strongly backing the healing process of every patient.

Besides qualifications and experience, empathy and compassion are equally important qualities to look for in the best oncologist in Delhi. At the Indraprastha Apollo Hospital, each member of the Apollo Cancer Institute is committed to providing cancer patients with every life-saving treatment available. For example, Image Guided Radiotherapy (IGRT), Stereotactic Body Radiotherapy (SBRT), Frameless Stereotactic Radiosurgery (SRS), 3D Conformal Radiotherapy, Intensity Modulated Radiotherapy (IMRT), and High Dose Rate (HDR) Brachytherapy are offered here for early detection of cancer and advanced surgical technology known as da Vinci robotical surgical system help cancer surgeons perform complicated surgeries with ease ensuring best outcome. In addition, the Tumour Board and Group Tumour Board meetings foster discussions between surgical, medical and radiation oncologists as do the Cancer Awareness Programs and counselling sessions offered at the Apollo Cancer Institute.

Follow-up constitutes an important component of treatment and is an integral part of the management protocols carried out by the Apollo Cancer Institute. Early detection and timely management of recurrence is the principle objective of follow-up in cancer management. The best oncologist in Delhi firmly believes this not only enhances survival but improves quality of life of patients.

Take a look at some of the top cancer specialists at Indraprastha Apollo Institute, who would each qualify to be the best oncologist in Delhi:

Dr Anil D’Cruz

MBBS, MS, DNB, FRCS (HON.

With over three decades of experience, Dr D’Cruz is a renowned surgical oncologist focusing primarily on head and neck cancers. His major areas are management of neck metastasis, conservative laryngeal surgery, cancers of the oral cavity, thyroid, quality of life issues and global health.

Dr Manish Singhal

MBBS, MD, DM(AIIMS)ECMO

Dr Singhal’s career spans over twenty years, largely covering all types of chemotherapy, intensive protocols, immunotherapy, hormonal therapy in addition to dealing with oncological emergencies, including medical care of patients.

Dr Dipanjan Panda

MBBS, MD, DM

One of the best medical oncologists in Delhi, Dr Panda’s area of expertise lies in gastrointestinal and hepatic pancreatico biliary malignancy, breast and gynaecological malignancy, lung and head neck cancer, genito-urinary malignancy, lymphoma and myeloma (haematological malignancy) and rare tumours like neuroendocrine tumours.

Dr Shuaib Zaidi

MBBS, MS (SURGERY), DNB (SURGERY), MCH (SURGICAL ONCOLOGY)

The Academic Coordinator and Senior Consultant in the Department of Surgical Oncology, Dr Zaidi has over twenty years of experience as a surgical oncologist. He specialises in the treatment of thoractic cancer, gastrointestinal cancer, PIPAC (Pressurised Intraperitoneal Chemotherapy), breast cancer and complex gynaecologic oncology.

Dr Praveen Garg

MBBS, M.S.(GEN.SURGERY), M.CH.(ONCOSURGERY)

Dr Garg specialises in the diagnosis, treatment and surgical management of malignant conditions in various parts of the body, and has advanced training in parathyroid and thyroid cancer surgeries, breast conservation surgeries, mastectomies and breast tissue reconstructions.

Dr Ruqaya Ahmed Mir

MBBS, DNB

Trained in robotic surgery, Dr Mir routinely performs major oncological resectional surgical procedures for head and neck cancers, lung and oesophageal cancers, major gastrointestinal malignancies, breast and gynaecological malignancies and soft tissue sarcomas.

To get in touch with the best oncologist in Delhi, contact Indraprastha Apollo Hospital

[bowtiesnmusicals]

Here is my recap of the Ask Me Anything Part 2 episode of the podcast.

They start out with a speed round.

Where they aware of all the Glee merch? No they were not aware of all of it.

What song would Artie and Tina sing if there was a reboot? Jenna said Unholy. Kevin said that would be funny.

Did the cast ever break while filming where you had to stop to stop laughing? Yes but not often. The one that comes to mind for Jenna is Fix You. They tried not to have it happen because they would get in trouble. They were filming fix you and he was the lead vocal on it and the rest of them are doing the ooh’s in the background. The glee kids decided to basically do Lea’s bad singing from Laryngitis. Matt has to cry and everyone is laughing behind him because of the bad singing. Kevin said everyone was managing to keep themselves together and Kevin was losing it and his shoulders were shaking from laughing. Lea got mad at Kevin because everyone else was keeping it together but Kevin couldn’t keep still but she was purposely singing badly behind him. The director got so mad at them. Jenna had tears streaming down her face just like in the song.

Kevin do you have any anger towards Ryan for how hard you worked? Kevin said he can only speak for himself and he does not have any anger towards Ryan. Kevin was always of the mind that you just say yes and be grateful for the work even if they are running you to the ground. He was just grateful to have work and a paycheck. He is empathetic towards Ryan who was just a show runner and writer and got thrust into being in charge of a billion dollar brand. There is grey in there that everyone could have done better and been better. He doesn’t have any sort of anger towards Ryan.

Does Jenna have any anger towards Ryan? Jenna doesn’t have anger towards him for that but she does have some resentment of when he left to work on other projects. It felt like the show faltered in some ways when he left. Ryan wasn’t equipped or trained to run a huge show. Jenna has found her closure with him. Kevin said Ryan isn’t lying when he said coming on to the podcast is like therapy. There was talk of mental health in the workplace when Glee was being made. They felt like they couldn’t complain that they were being assholes because they were in such a privileged place. Kevin said because they are a part of a union but the amount of people working in that union is very small. To get any opportunity or consistent work you have to say yes to everything.

How many days a week did the shoot and for how many hours a day? The earlier seasons were a bit crazier. When they added New York schedules were split. For the first couple of seasons they were working regularly 15 hours a day but sometimes up to 17 hours. When they worked in Long Beach it was a 40 min to an 1 hr drive each way for everyone. Jenna remembers hitting her pillow every night and feeling like no time had passed. You start early on a Monday and they you have a certain amount of hours you are allowed to work before crew and cast get overtime. The days start to get later as the week goes on because you have to have certain amount of time between when an actor is wrapped for the day and can come back to set which is usually 12 hours. If you break this rule you have to pay for it. By the end of the week on Friday they could start at 1 pm which means they could go until 1 am or later before they wrapped. Saturday is like a half day and you would have to start back at 6 am on Monday. Most of the crew had family so they would go home at. 3 am on Saturday get a little sleep and spend the rest of the weekend with family before going back to work early Monday morning.

Did you use stand ins a lot? There are always stand-ins for the principal actors. If Tina and Artie in a scene the stand-in is always there working. The stand-in will usually get the job and keep the job for the show. As long as the show is going and you are available you have a job. The stand-ins are always on set. They are used when lighting is being set up for a scene and when blocking is changed. This is being done while the actors are getting dressed, make-up, and hair done. Each time there is a new camera set up this process is also done with the stand-ins first.

Do you have a favorite competition song? Kevin has a soft spot for More Then A Feeling. He thinks that Jenna and Darren smashed it. The whole number was emotional for a number of reasons. One being because it was a tribute for Cory. Jenna’s favorite is Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. Kevin found out Marco his ex-boyfriend was coming back to America. His green card had been approved after he had been trapped out of the country for 3 years. It felt serendipitous that they were singing America.

They played a snippet of the unreleased Glee version of Tell Him by Barbara Streisand and Celine Dion. The number got cut. Kevin said he is going to get in so much trouble. Kevin said he is going to create some sort of SoundCloud and put it on there. Jenna said she was sad that the number got cut.

Do you have a playlist of your favorite Glee songs, Kevin? No but they both want to make a proper one. And That’s What You Missed Favorites. Kevin went on a late night twitter listening spree and went through all the seasons of his favorites. He would say if he sounded shit or sounded good on a song. Jenna said they should do a listening party. She sometimes goes to get a coffee in the morning and she will scroll through a playlist on Spotify and play a few.

Kevin asked Jenna what are her go to songs. Jenna said Never Going Back Again, Dog Days, she just listened to Bridge Over Trouble Water. Some Madonna. Whenever I Call You Friend. Kevin said he loved how they sounded on that song. Kevin does Breakaway a lot. He does the 100 episode version of Loser Like Me. He likes the harmonies and runs he did in that song. Kevin is just like ugh he used to be able to sing. Jenna said it was fun to go into a professional booth and be produced really well.

Which style of Tina’s did you like the best? Jenna disliked the steampunk the most. There was one point she was so miserable she wanted to cut herself out of a dress. She talked to Lou about it changing it up. She liked Mod Tina. She said she was lucky that she got to switch up her look quite often.

Someone left a question about why Artie never dressed better his old man clothes were too unrealistic. Kevin said how dare you. Jenna said she didn’t think it was unrealistic. Kevin said Artie brought back norm core. He is a trendsetter. If you look up the trends their is a correlation and Lou did that. Kevin said those outfits were so hot. He was wearing long sleeves and wool sweaters. So eventually they started cutting of the sleeves of the shirts under the sweaters. It looked very weird. Jenna wore a uniform in high school. If you were in a show you got to wear your show shirt on Thursday and Friday of the week of the show. Your name was on the back and logo on the front. You technically had to wear your uniform shirt underneath. They would basically fake it by wearing a dickie, or just cutting off the collar of one of their shirts, so it looked like they were wearing a collared shirt.

If you could give Artie and Tina middle names what would the be? Jenna says Artie’s middle name is Archibald. Arthur Archibald Abrams. Kevin said Tina’s middle name is Carolena. Tina Carolena Cohen-Chang. She might go by Carolena when she’s older. TCCC. Jacob Artist had the best nicknames. He had so many nicknames for Jenna.

What was it like filming the finale? Kevin said devastating. It was rough. They cried a lot. It was very celebratory. They threw a huge party for them. There was music and games. It was really fun but it so sad. There was so much time that passed for Jenna that she was rushing towards the end and just not being present. Then the realization that it’s ending and all going away. It’s wild. Ben who was on the camera crew put down the marks everyday. On the last day everyone clapped for him as he put down their marks and he burst into tears. As soon as Ben lost it everyone else lost it. That last week if one person broke it broke everyone. The last song that Matt did was brutal. They were all just holding each other and losing it. Jenna has a tap of it By the time of the wrap video the had been through it and might have had a bit of Tequila.

Did you ever consider quitting the show? They couldn’t if they wanted to. Jenna said she definitely threatened that she was done but would never have actually went through it. Keven said he wouldn’t have let her. Some people wanted to quit. Some people did leave. They couldn’t really go without permission. People become famous and this show took up 10 months of the year. That is why you see some people leave tv shows because they want to take those other opportunities. Kevin never wanted to quit.

Which season had the best music? Kevin said that is tough. Jenna said it wasn’t seasons but more so episodes. Season 2 when they were in the full swing of things they got to break songs before people got to really hear them. They got really big and popular songs

Where did the nickname bee come from? Kevin’s nickname amongst the glee folks is bee. He had a friend named Carly pre glee and they had a joke about couples that used baby. Naya and Kevin would start making jokes out of it between takes and it became shortened to bee. Usually it was between Kevin and someone else would call each other bee. Kevin said the funniest was Cory. It was a good way to cut through the noise. Zach Woodlee would call Kevin tater tot, tater, or tot. Kevin and Jenna loved that nickname.

Did you know that Dianna Argon exists within the world of Glee? When Kurt runs for president he gives out Burlesque DVDs as an incentive to vote for him. Dianna was in Burlesque.

Top 3 Kevin songs:Never Going Back Again, PYT, When I Call You Friend. There are so may others like Empire State of Mind.

Did you shoot scenes chronologically? No they did not. It was based on many things location, timing, money, and availability. If they were doing say scenes in breadstix and there was more then one they would filmed them back to back.

Did your partners watch Glee before meeting you? Jenna said yes, David watched it and thought he was being catfished when they met on Hinge.

What is your favorite episode you have watched so far? Power of Madonna and Preggers

How did the cast celebrate birthdays on the show? It was always fun. Crafty or production would get you a cake if your birthday landed in the production schedule. Kevin said his never did so he didn’t get a cake. They definitely celebrated his birthday on tour. Jenna never got her own cake because her birthday is the same day as Harry so they would always share.

Jenna has two Tony’s she won for producing. Does she enjoy acting or producing theatre more? In March of 2023 she enjoys producing more. Kevin said she is so good at both.

Did we have any famous fans of Glee that they were surprised watched the show? Jenna said a lot. Their first Golden Globes was very enlightening. Kevin turned to Jane on the red carpet and saw Julianne Moore and Tom Ford were right there. Jane said lets go talk to them. Kevin said he can’t do this. They go and Julianne Moore knew exactly who they were and told them they watched every week. That’s when Tom Ford walked up to Kevin and fixed his bow tie. This is the same Golden Globes that Lea lost. Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson were mad and told her she was robbed. It was a shot for artsy underdogs so many people related to it.

What advice to you have for actors starting out? Jenna - Do not try to cop the stars you idolize. Do not try to be a carbon copy or sound like them or just copy them at all. There is already one of them. You are one of a kind. The reason you will be a star is because you are unique, different, and you have something to share. Be true to you. Yes it sound cliche but its true. Growing up Jenna tried to sound like Sutton Foster and other famous Broadway stars like Idina and Kristin. She realize that isn’t what is going to make her successful and what would make her successful is her giving more of what she has to share. Kevin - In the most unloaded way possible that you need to be so certain and secure in yourself, in your want and desire to do this that when you go into a room or zoom that you don’t take it personally when you get rejected for a job. You can’t control what the person you are auditing for feels that day. That is all out of your control. You can only control what you bring into that audition. You don’t know what someone is going through that day. It’s really hard to not take rejection personally but if you can learn to not take it personally you will be all right. This business is mostly rejection. Jenna said that is like 101. Kevin said its not for everyone and that’s okay. If you give it a go and it’s not for you then you are not a failure. It’s not for everyone. Kevin joked that he’s just dead inside so its fine.

They said they can’t wait to do this again. These are fun for them.

[grison-in-space]

So... there's a lot here I see that I like, but there are pieces I'm also skeptical of. I agree that brachy breeders need to be focused on the specific conformational variations that are associated with BOAS rather than simply muzzle length. I also agree that there is much more variation in historical muzzle length than folks sometimes acknowledge, because historical variation in just about everything was wider before the inevitable consequences of a century of breeding to conformational standard.

However, I do fundamentally disagree that an arbitrary breed standard is inherently worth aiming for, and I additionally think there's such a thing as a principle of functional conformation that can be evaluated irrespective of breed. There are lots of great ways to build a dog, but there are also ways to breed a dog that interfere with the dog's ability to use its body comfortably and effectively to navigate the world. It's certainly not impossible for a breed standard to center itself within this range, and I argue that all three centered breeds generally reward traits that contribute to BOAS in the show ring.

(Fun fact: I have a human version of BOAS, in that micrognathia has created insufficient room for the soft tissues of my skull and leads to collapsing soft palate, difficulty breathing, etc. It sucks ass. Would not recommend. I am very, very aware of my breathing, plus there's the sleep apnea aspect that is.... challenging. Not great.

I am also going to note from personal experience that obesity can be a bit of a chicken and the egg thing: sleep disturbances can cause obesity, as can chronic stress (say, not being able to breathe). Furthermore, it's hard to enjoy exercise and make a practice of engaging with it when you learn to associate exercise with gasping for air because you're trying to breathe through a drinking straw. More weight on the dog sure doesn't help, but the bad conformation can also help to create and foster obesity in a feedback loop that I assure you is just great to actually inhabit.)

The conformation of that brindle Frenchie bitch is functionally problematic, and I think that's down to the very short forearm and the hatchet chest (the tuck up happens too early and doesn't leave room for organs, and the forelegs are shorter than the hind legs which creates that topline). I had a look at several of Hawbuck's dogs, and in general there's a certain amount of that there (although the brindle is the worst by far). Her conformation puts unnecessary pressure on her front legs and shoulders during impact heavy exercise.

But the tan dog isn't all that much better. From a structural perspective, his back is extremely short, and his hind end is severely under angulated (which can increase the risk of subluxation in the patellas, fun fact, just as over angulation can increase the risk of crippling arthritis from hip dysplasia in a dog). He will have a hard time with flexibility and speed: his spine is too short to let him really use his hind end effectively to power forward motion. His stride is almost certainly short and choppy. Frankly, he is a pronounced movement away from functional and towards extremes relative to, say, the 1915 and 1907 dogs, who are the nicest animals (to my eye) on this post.

Additionally, when you look at just that Hawbucks dog and you look at the conformational BOAS risks for Frenchies, it's actually not just the muzzle that the Hawbucks dogs are selected for. Those dogs have had careful examinations of their laryngeal anatomy, including their soft palate tissue, as well as a wide range of other types of health testing (joints, cardiac, etc). They are actively selecting against that hypershort spine, too.

Furthermore, muzzle length isn't even the only conformational difference between the Hawbucks dog and the conformation dog. When you look at those BOAS structural factors in Frenchies, neck thickness, neck length, and craniofacial ratio are all listed as important BOAS precursors. That conformation dog's neck is extremely thick and short, and his head has a low craniofacial ratio (that is, most of his head is face); by contrast, the Hawbucks dogs uniformly have unusually long, thin necks for French Bulldogs and higher CF ratios. And I can't see his nares super well to check those, but my bet is that they are a lot tighter and smaller than hers.

The trouble is that there isn't a ton of diversity within a lot of these breeds, and there's a lot of ground that needs to be covered to create a more functional version. The downhill topline MIGHT predispose that Hawbucks dog to arthritis or injury if she does a lot of high impact jumping or flyball, and the hatchet chest might give her less stamina than a dog with more room for lung capacity, but the BOAS risk factor improvements are likely to let her engage in these behaviors a hell of a lot more than the poor conformation dog can. He's not going to be able to muster the ability to move as much in the short term enough to risk those injuries. Breeders have to work with what's there, especially if closed studbooks prevent them from making outcrosses to rescue some traits faster.

So in terms of which dog I think is more functional.... yeah, I'd rather have a puppy out of the Hawbucks dog, thank you.

I've spent a fair bit of time here, but just to nod at the pugs, you can see a similar emphasis in the retromops: the neck is longer and thinner, the back is longer, the tail is much less tightly curled, and the legs have more angulation that allows for more flexibility. I'd take that dog home in a heartbeat; from a functional perspective, it's built quite nicely.