#like the sheer amount of. i really don't know how to even describe it

[portalhan]

⠀ꔫ˚　༝　◌ ⌒⌒ three strikes !

↳ jeongin swears on his life that he's seen something odd between you and felix... exactly three times, in fact, but he needs more concrete proof...

PAIRING: felix lee x gn!reader

FORMAT: one shot

GENRE: college au, friends to lovers, fluff, jeongin third wheeling...

WARNINGS: brief mentions of food and being sick (just the flu bug nothing huge)

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

FAE'S NOTES: this is just a little bit half-assed... idk if i have much faith in this and i believe i can do better than this but i'm gonna post it anyway for you guys! please let me know if you have any feedback, my writing muscles have basically atrophied and i need to find my rhythm again TT

jeongin doesn't usually second-guess his closest friends like this, but something has changed. he knows you and felix well enough to know at least that.

you have always been hard to read. you're an independent, reliable sort of person, not outwardly emotional nor needlessly arrogant either—you tend to show your love for your friends through small, quiet gestures. felix, on the other hand, is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve—almost to a fault. always baking extra brownies to gift people, always going the extra mile, always looking on the bright side, even in the darkest of situations. he is as fragile as he is affectionate.

yes, affectionate. that's the word he's been looking for to describe the changes in your friendship with felix. you've been more affectionate. jeongin has always chalked it up to felix's own proclivities rubbing off on you given the sheer amount of time you spend together, but now... he's not so sure it's that simple. there have been three strikes jeongin has kept score of so far.

STRIKE #1

jeongin remembers it was a tuesday, because that's the only day of the week where all three of you shared classes. you would always sit in a row near the back of the class. he has made it a point to memorise both yours and felix's timetables this semester—as do the both of you with him—so he knows you don't usually have prior arrangements before coming to campus. you've always had a tradition of meeting in the lobby before walking to class together as a result.

so, when his phone pings with a message from you saying 'sorry innie, we're gonna be a bit late! pls go to class first, just save us seats', he is immediately struck with confusion. what did you mean, "we"? felix, uncharacteristically, hasn't said a word and it's already 5 minutes shy from when class starts. he always arrives at least 10 minutes before. how strange, jeongin thinks to himself as he trudges up the stairs to class, incredibly unfamiliar with the circumstance of having to do so on his own for the first time. he just brushes the nagging suspicion off, telling himself it was probably because of some public transport situation that's delayed you both—not something entirely uncommon.

it's about 15 minutes into the class before he sees you. the second he spots felix and you stumbling through the doors, profusely apologising to the professor for your tardiness, though, is when the same sensation of suspicion comes back. as you and felix shuffle to make their way to the seats jeongin saved for you, he can't help but notice your attire. you're wearing an oversized black shirt with some graphic of an anime printed on. jeongin's eyes squint as he stares at it, assuming it must have been a new purchase of yours. but he swears he's seen it before.

when you and felix take your seats and the professors picks up where she left off, felix turns to jeongin and apologises for being late. "we're really sorry jeongin, we owe you one," he quips, before he fishes his laptop out of his bag. the younger boy just shrugs it off as no big deal. plus, he had something else on his mind to worry about than harp on the two of you being late to class.

the dots quickly connect a few moments later in jeongin's head. felix has a shirt just like the one you're wearing. he swears he's seen him wearing it before, just last week when the three of you had gone out for dinner. it's been a shirt of his for years now, so worn down by so many uses that it has bleach stains on the sleeves, despite how much care felix puts into his clothing.

jeongin leans back in his chair and slowly, subtly pushes it back. he steals a glance at your side profile, thankfully without either you or felix noticing. there they were: bleach stains on the sleeves. upon further inspection, the shirt you were wearing looks way too worn out to be a new shirt—he concludes it must be felix's. but why would you wear felix's dank shirt to begin with? it would be weird to ask if that's his shirt you were wearing, so he decides to keep his silence for now.

STRIKE #2

this time, it was jeongin's turn to be late. the three of you had planned a picnic to celebrate the end of the gruelling semester—an idea felix suggested. he wanted it to be a potluck, so the each of you planned to bring something of your own making along.

jeongin wanted to go all out with his: he wanted to bake cupcakes, something felix had recently taught him how to. he wanted to show you his latest endeavours, baked fresh, but he didn't expect it to go sideways so last minute. he ended up showing up almost half an hour late, hair sticking to his forehead from all the sweat and cupcake frosting smeared all over the tupperware he placed them in out of haste.

when he finally spots the two of you amid the grass field at the park, he notices something... odd. he stops in his tracks to catch his breath and squints his eyes to get a better look. if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought you two were... holding hands? the sun was glaring directly in his face, obscuring his vision, so jeongin couldn't be 100% sure. but what he does know is that your figures were so close to each other they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. this isn't exactly beyond felix, who is notorious for his habits of physical affection. but it is most certainly out of character for you, as someone who prefers to keep most people at an arm's length.

jeongin shrugs it off. he guesses felix nor he would be considered "most people". perhaps it was a trick of the light. he also doesn't have good enough reason to find it entirely strange—perhaps felix had gotten through to you in that regard. he had bigger things to worry about: your dinner getting cold.

STRIKE #3

the legitimacy of the third time is still up for debate, jeongin surmises. this time it wasn't your behaviour around each other, instead more so about how felix in particular reacted.

this happened over summer break. he remembers the sun being more unrelenting than ever—40 degrees celsius to be exact, he saw on the news—so you three had just decided to hang out in your bedroom, where the air conditioning is the coolest and crispiest (according to you). jeongin vividly recalls you lying on your stomach atop your bed, while the two boys were sprawled on the floor. that is, the carpet that laid over the spot where they would usually sprawl on the floor.

it was one of those 'parallel play' days, as you liked to call them. not necessarily doing things together, but doing separate things in the presence of each other, you said one time. felix was busy on his switch playing some pokemon game, you were scrolling on your phone and jeongin was just seconds away from drifting off to sleep on felix's lap.

it's been silent for, what, almost two hours now? but you end up breaking it first. "woah," you suddenly exclaimed, brows furrowing as you read something on your screen. "do you guys remember seungmin? from calculus?"

jeongin does not move an inch aside from nodding his head, and felix just lets out a little "yeah?" though his eyes were never once peeled from the console screen.

"i think he just asked me out," you tell them, bewildered.

this, of course, elicits reactions of surprise from jeongin and felix. the former lifts himself and sits up to ask details, while the other just turns the switch off—did he even save his progress on the game?—and sits there in silence as he silently watches you and jeongin discuss your classmate's... proposition. jeongin makes a playful jab at how you could have given him the wrong idea by flirting with him, which you immediately shut down. "i've never done anything suggestive to him, i swear!" you exclaimed in full defense.

seungmin has only ever made conversation with you once or twice in class, jeongin recalls. you also never really put in the effort to get to know your other classmates if jeongin and felix were in the same classes. jeongin makes a passing comment about how seungmin could pass as your type (if you squint hard enough), but it falls on deaf ears when you and felix meet each other's gazes.

"you're gonna tell him no, right?" felix suddenly chimes in after moments of prolonged silence, raspy voice cracking just a little. jeongin snaps his head to turn and look at his friend, head tilted and brow lifted. you give felix a look jeongin cannot quite describe, and chuckle with a soft smile as you nod. "of course i'm gonna say no," you assure him. he lets out a very heavy sigh of relief, but none of this goes unnoticed by jeongin.

this is very weird, jeongin remembers thinking. you have always been receptive to potential love interests, even if they weren't necessarily people you'd normally be into. so why are you so sure now that you'd reject seungmin without even giving him a chance?

on that note, what's it to felix who asks you out? why does he have a say? plus, he could've sworn he detected some semblance of... jealousy in his question. but he supposes that could be normal considering all three of you are so used to spending time with each other. jeongin does admit to himself that he'd feel lonely if you were to be whisked away by some stranger out of nowhere. it wouldn't be the same.

jeongin has theories, maybe even concepts of a theory, but no concrete enough proof for confrontation—so far. it looks like he has to wait till he does before he can address the massive elephant in the room.

FINAL STRIKE

it finally happens when he decides to stop by your apartment with take-out. you had told your friends about falling sick the night before—alas, you have caught the flu bug. they were just textbook symptoms like a low-grade fever, sore throat and a runny nose, nothing to worry about in particular, you told them. but jeongin just so happens to pass by your neighbourhood on his usual route home from work, so he decides to drop in with some chicken soup for you as a small surprise. you had already been texting the group chat the entire day about how exhausted you were to make yourself a half-decent dinner, so jeongin thought this would be a nice way to take care of his friend.

he knocks on your door multiple times to no response. maybe you're sleeping? he looks around the potted plants sitting outside your door and lifts the snake plant up, grabbing the rusted spare key tucked away from prying eyes just underneath. he quickly and quietly unlocks the front door and lets himself in. i'll just go in, check on y/n and put this soup on the table, he tells himself as he enters. maybe text you to let you know he got you dinner.

that is, until a warm aroma of what he believes to be fresh bolognese wafts to where he is at the front door. he hears the distant clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen, and—strangest of all—he hears... conversation? he can definitely hear you talking and even giggling, but he can't quite make out who the other person was. he's about 99% sure there was someone else in here, but could it be just a phone call? he sneaks down the hallway to the kitchen, the noises getting clearer as he inches closer. when he sticks his head out from a blind corner to peek into the kitchen, he sees it: felix plating a fresh bowl of spaghetti while you're sitting on the dining table engaged in idle chatter. a lump catches in his throat—what is felix doing here? and most importantly, why didn't he know of this? he felt momentarily betrayed.

jeongin just stands there in silence, unsure of how to confront you, while you and felix continue chatting. it's only when felix sets down two plates of pasta and goes in to plant a peck on your cheek does jeongin yelp in shock, which frightens all three of you.

felix squints his eyes, which widen in utter disbelief when he recognises the familiar facade lurking by the corridor. "jeong...in?" he asks, voice trembling a little from disbelief. when he says jeongin's name, you shoot him a similar look, but this one is more panicked and afraid. jeongin awkwardly steps out within view, but he puts a hand up to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. he raises the other arm to point an accusatory finger at the both of you. you swear you just heard felix gulp next to you.

"i..." jeongin sputters. "i knew it! i knew something was going on between you two idiots!"

the verbalisation of his revelation is what completely opens the floodgates, causing the entire place to erupt in complete and utter chaos. jeongin paces back and forth with the chicken soup still dangling from his fingers as he rants about how he's caught you doing "weird stuff" a couple of times but couldn't have known, about how he's been feeling a little left out recently, how you have been looking at felix funny sometimes. meanwhile, felix just begins to talk over him with near-equal (if not more) amounts of sheer panic and distress, reaching out to him to get him to calm down while explaining that this wasn't how they had intended for him to find out.

you, crippled by the shock from jeongin's unexpected appearance, just sit there, unable to do much of anything what with your flu, just silently watching felix and jeongin form a panic attack circle jerk in your own house.

"enough!" jeongin raises his voice, which immediately shuts felix up. jeong has never raised his voice. you shoot felix a nervous look.

"i thought we were best friends," jeongin utters, the slightest hint of melancholy lacing his voice. he looks offended. you've never seen him look this offended, not even when he was accused of academic misconduct that one time. "i'm happy for you, ecstatic even! i swear i am, but really? why would you keep this for me for so long?"

you decide you should talk to him—felix is very clearly out of his depth when it comes to handling intense situations like this and he's only making jeongin feel worse with all the jabbering. you stand up from your seat on the table and walk over to him, taking your hands in his.

"i'm sorry, jeongin. we... we weren't entirely sure of how we were gonna do this," you tell him, almost in a whisper.

felix scratches the back of his neck, avoiding any and all eye contact with either of you. "we wanted to keep it quiet," he admits. "at first, at least."

you nod in agreement, and turn back to look at jeongin. "you were going to be the first person we would break the news to. not even our own parents, i swear," you divulge, while you spot felix in the corner of your eye making a silent crossed hearts gesture to double down on his sincerity. jeongin's once-tense features start to ease up a bit, but not entirely. "you are our best friend. we never want you to feel like this. we're sorry," you assure him, before pulling him into a bear hug. you feel felix join from behind you to make it a group hug.

"i don't care what you guys have going on, but don't keep any more secrets from me. got it?" your friend huffs after you all pull back, feigning some sort of authority. felix chuckles at how ridiculous he sounds—being the youngest of the three, the tone just sounds alien when it comes from him. "we would never," felix tells him, reaching out to give jeongin a firm pat on the back. "i think y/n might like you more than me anyway, they're always going, 'we should call jeongin! we should send him a photo! we should—"

your palm slaps against the lower half of your boyfriend's face in protest. "we might be dating but you're on thin ice," you glare at him, before he raises both hands to surrender.

jeongin jovially chimes in to break the tension: "can i just say, i've always felt like you'd get along. aren't you glad i introduced you to each other? you wouldn't be a thing if it weren't for me, ya know." felix and you just huff in response—he can have this.

[tiefling-queer]

it is ENDLESSLY frustrating to watch white queers, white women, and white neurodivergents, day after day, frame our oppression as uniquely effecting and terrifying and claim that all problems come from cishets, or men, or neurotypicals, when they are describing problems that are symptomatic of white supremacy. or hell, even events that are OBSERVABLY BECAUSE OF WHITE PEOPLE.

HALF OF ALL WHITE WOMEN WHO VOTED IN THE US THIS YEAR VOTED FOR TRUMP. but even when they're not busy blaming people of color for it, white liberals seem incapable of reckoning with the idea that white supremacy appeals to white women, and that includes the patriarchal elements of white supremacy.

i feel like im going insane every time a white woman or white queer pushes themselves into a panic attack over the possibility of facing some heinous form of oppression or violence that IS CURRENTLY BEING FACED BY POC IN THEIR COUNTRY. i can't imagine how much more infuriating this pattern of behavior is for people of color.

[momonyu]

love drunk

eustass kid x reader

kid is (extra) annoying when he's drunk

“say you love me” + kid for @saidbysae

1.2k words

a/n: i can't take credit for the ending bc i think it was a cliche post that was floating around here or twitter when i saw it a billion years ago. anyways i think kid is really soft and i luv him for that

if there's one thing you've learned about the kid pirates, it's that they definitely know how to party. and of all the rowdy, noisy, rambunctious pirates, the captain is the worst of them.

"heat, get me another!" kid yells from across the room.

"another glass?"

"no," he downs his jug and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "another barrel!"

across the room, he spots you and when you shake your head, his mischievous grin gets even bigger and brighter. you're crazy, you mouth. he just laughs and winks in your direction, raising his empty glass in your direction.

it's going to be a long night.

and sure enough, it's in the wee hours of the morning that you're dragging him across the deck towards his room. somehow, he's managed to lose both his jacket and his shirt, but in the autumn air, his body is still running hot. you're practically sweating with his body pressed against yours.

"baaaby, i know i don't look'it but 'm drunk," kid slurs.

usually so clever when he's (mostly) sober, it's silly of him to state the obvious — so much so that you can't help but smile. "i know."

you plant a quick kiss on the arm slung around your shoulders. "let's call it a night, hm?"

kid whines, "nuh uh, no way. tonight, we party like kings!"

he pumps a fist in the air, but with the sheer amount of alcohol running through his veins, his arm goes a little limp in the air before unceremoniously falling like a wet noodle.

you can't help the guffaw that slips out of you — a laugh at how silly he looks — and he can't help but laugh at how silly you sound. in drunken stupor, laughter is exceptionally contagious, and before you know it, the two of you are doubled over, howling in laughter.

you fall into each other, one lover supporting the other, until you make eye contact with each other and the giggles start again. the sound of love fills the chilly night, easing from laughter to (mostly) steady breaths. sitting on the deck now, kid looks at you with a lovedrunk grin.

he looks up at you, "hey."

you winkle your nose at him, "what?"

"c'mere," he points to the spot next to him. "i have a secret t' tell ya."

you roll your eyes but crouch down anyway. "what?"

kid looks at you with excitement that can only be described as child-like. he's a brute with a bounty higher than children can count and yet, here he is, practically giddy with what he's about to tell you.

he pauses for dramatic effect.

"i love you."

he stares at you like this is the most ground-breaking revelation you'll hear in your entire life and — god dammit, if he isn't the most adorable thing in the world right now.

you take his face into your hands, squishing his cheeks in the way he hates when he's sober. "i know."

he pouts. "you have to say it back."

you smirk. "no."

"but i love you!"

"i know."

"why won't you say it back?"

kid looks so wonderfully confused, and you take a moment to commit this expression to memory. if you were a little nicer, you might put him out of his misery.

but you're not and you won't.

"because you're being annoying," you smile.

"but you love me!" kid points a finger at you. "say you love me!"

"don't wanna," you chuckle.

"say it," he deadpans. "or i'll jump ship right now."

you gawk at him.

"you wouldn't."

"i wouldn't? are you sure?" suddenly, kid springs up and starts walking to the edge of the boat. honestly, it's impressive how fast he's moving.

when the crew drinks, kid has done worse things under the influence of alcohol — but the difference between then and now is that there are no burly crewmates to rescue their captain. compared to kid, you are a tiny little thing and you don't stand a chance.

you look around for killer or heat or thatch — or anyone, really. kid cackles and you whirl around. with a raised eyebrow, he swings a leg over and straddles the railing.

you panic — one wrong move and the kid pirates are down a captain. you rush towards him.

"okay, okay, fine! i love you too!" you tug his arm, "now will you please come back here?"

"okay," he beams in victory. adrenaline dissipating, kid climbs down all clumsy with a goofy grin plastered on his face.

"'kay," his voice comes out happy and ditzy. "s'cold out here, take me somewhere warm now.

hand in yours, you lead him towards his bedroom and, thankfully, kid follows without any more shenanigans.

kid trails behind you and yawns, "'m tired."

a gentle smile graces your lips, "wanna go to bed?"

you turn back and kid almost trips over his feet. you're so pretty in the moonlight, and kid is overcome with an urge to kiss you. he catches up to you and snuggles against you (or as much as a 6ft man can cuddle someone your size).

"only if you're coming with," he declares.

"if i say no, are you going to fight me?"

"yuuuuup."

you've eventually made it to his room and it only takes you two seconds to make a decision. one wrong answer and you risk undoing all the work it took to get him here.

you open his door, "fine, i'll sleep with you tonight."

"ya hear that, boys?" he booms, and you gape at him. "i get to sleep with my baby tonight, bitches!"

you're moritified. you hiss at him as you quickly usher him inside, closing the door as fast as you can, all the while kid grins to himself. a smile stays etched on his red lips — a smile so hopelessly, stupidly, irrevocably, spellbound by love — as you struggle to strip him his stained clothes ("come on, let's just stay naked!") and into fresh pajamas ("do i have to put these on? can't we just stay na-" "no.")

finally, the two of you are tucked into bed, in clean clothes that smell like linen and lavender, cuddled under cozy covers. all is quiet in the captain's bedroom and it's not long before the exhaustion catches up to you. kid's chest is warm against you, and you let yourself fall aslee-

"hey."

you groan, "what?"

"i love you."

having already learned your lesson, you sigh.

"i love you too."

you pause, waiting for the follow-up mischief that will plague your attempts to sleep. but the only things that come are steady breathing and silence. satisfied, you return to your journey into dreamland.

until kid whispers, "hey."

you look up at him, so tired that you can barely manage to say, "what now?"

"will you marry me?"

he asks it so gently, so innocently, that you can't help but fall in love with him a little more than you already have. in the comfort of your solitude, in these quiet moments where it's just the two of you, this is when kid's love is the loudest.

he wraps an arm around you, pulls you closer to his heart, and you press your lips against his burning skin, right where his heart beats so fervently for you.

"idiot, i already did."

[half-bakedboy]

Hi! I saw that you were asking for Tommy/Buck prompts! What do you think about: "You're allowed to be happy, y'know."? With Tommy continuing to be just as gentle with Buck as he was with that kiss! I'm still not over it 🩷

Tommy kisses Buck on a Thursday and takes him on their first date the following Saturday. They go on two more official dates before Tommy reminds him his sister's getting married in a few weeks. They're five dates into their... well, whatever they are, when Buck watches Tommy dance with his newly married sister.

There's something so gentle about the way Tommy holds Maddie's manicured fingers delicately in his own. He has what can only be described as a gentlemanly hand on her waist and he's almost letting her take the lead like he's making sure he doesn't scare her away.

Maddie doesn't get scared anymore, not like she used to, but the fact that Tommy can put that amount of care into someone just in case makes Buck's eyes water. Even though he tries not to show too much emotion in public, he doesn't put any effort into holding the tears back. His sister just got married! He's allowed to feel.

"Buck!" Chimney shouts. He's running toward Maddie and Tommy with a faux scowl that couldn't reach his eyes even if he tried. "Get your man before he woos her with his fancy helicopter license."

"Pilot's license," Buck says as he stands, wiping subtly at his eyes. A smile tugs at the corner of Tommy's lips because he knows that's his influence. Buck had called it a helicopter license approximately five times before Tommy finally taught him how it all worked. 

“There’s only one firefighter for me, Howie,” Maddie says dreamily. Buck can’t remember a time he’d ever heard her so wistful, not since she was a kid reading him fairytales when they were both supposed to be sleeping. 

“And there’s only one Buckley for me,” Tommy adds, winking at Maddie dramatically before placing her hand in Chimney’s, “but I always have a plan b. Isn’t that what you taught me, Han?” Chimney swats at him half-heartedly, his attention already back on his bride. 

Buck watches them for a few moments, reveling in the sheer joy that illuminates between them like no storm cloud in the world could cover the sunshine they feel. He's struck by a stray bolt of lightning--pun only partially intended--when he thinks about what she's gotten through to be here, but it settles into calmness when Tommy clears his throat from beside him.

Buck snaps from his thoughts and realizes he's been ignoring Tommy's outstretched hand. He clasps their hands together, fully intending to drag them back to their table, when Tommy clicks his tongue and pulls him close.

Then they're dancing underneath a backyard tent surrounded by their friends and family, and Buck thinks that he's never been as happy as he is right then.

There's guilt in the feeling, as there almost always is. There are people in need of saving, people who are hurt or scared or lonely, and here is Evan Buckley--happy. He can’t begin to comprehend why or even if he deserves that. He's made mistakes, he's lied to himself his entire life without intention, he never protected his sister or his team well enough, and now he's with a man who he really likes but isn't sure exactly what it means.

He doesn't deserve--

"You're allowed to be happy, y'know." 

Tommy says the words like he's reading Buck's mind.

"I am happy," Buck says instinctively. Tommy chuckles and nods.

"You are," he agrees, "but you need to stop feeling so much shame about it."

His large palm presses against the small of Buck's back, leading him into a slow sway. He dips his head the few centimeters between them and rests their foreheads together like he's trying to keep Buck's attention. Like Buck's attention could be anywhere else when he's being held like this, with such tenderness that he feels weak in his knees.

"You're going to find happiness that you don't need to feel guilty for one day, Evan."

It feels like a promise, and Buck only hopes that Tommy's the one to keep it.

[ghostwnby]

Crashing Tides

Authors note: So remember about 3 or 4 ish months ago I said I was working on a surfer shop worker!Daniel + moody rich 19 year old!Max age gap romance fic? Well, surprise! After a billion years the first part of it is finally here. I'm not 100% happy with it but I decided to finally just say fuck it and bite the bullet with it. I am hoping to write more in the future about this au but in the meantime if you have any suggestions or ideas about this au please feel free to share them with me :) my asks are always open <3 otherwise, I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: language

Word count: 2,029 (2k)

----

The warmth of the Australian sun beats down harshly on Daniel’s skin as he tries his best to dodge and weave through the crowded boardwalk, not wanting to run anyone over with his bike. He wipes the layer of sweat that had gathered on his forehead off on the back of his hand, cringing slightly at the sheer amount of it. 

He silently regrets not taking a shower before leaving the house, but at this rate, with the amount of people blocking his way, he was going to be late.

Damn tourists. 

He can hear his boss, Mark, now: "Look, who finally decided to show up! I’m glad you think this company runs on your schedule.” He rolls his eyes at the mental image of the older Australian man passive-aggressively scolding him. You would think a person who owns a beachside surf shop would be more laid-back, but no. Ever since his wife left him last summer, his boss has been nothing but a crotchety old man. And trust me, Daniel has tried many times to invite him out to bars to be his wingman for the night, but every time he offers, he gets immediately shut down and scolded for even offering. 

Sorry, he was just trying to be a good co-worker and get his boss some stress relief in the form of a one-night stand with a beautiful lady. 

Pulling up to the shop, Daniel rushes off his bike, hastily reaching into his bag to grab his bike lock and securing it to the pole near the side of the building. Once secure, he practically bolts into the front entrance of the shop, accidentally slamming the door open a bit too hard for his liking, causing a few customers and his coworker, Lando, to perk their heads up and look in his direction. 

“I know. I know. But technically, I’m early. I still have a minute until I’m supposed to be here.” Daniel says matter-of-factly, shining a bright smile at the younger man as he walks up to the front counter that his co-worker is lounging lazily against. 

“You're cutting it close, mate.” Lando comments as he glances up at the shark-themed clock on the wall. (What? His boss might be an ass, but at least he’s an ass with good taste.) 

10:59 am

Lando shakes his head. “I don’t know if you want to push your luck too much. Mark is in a pissy mood today.” He explains.

Daniel rolls his eyes. “When is he not?”

Lando glances over his shoulder, making sure the door to the manager’s office is shut before whispering, “I don't know, mate; he seems grouchier than normal. Like something’s really ticked him off.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at the younger man. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the door of the manager’s office slams open, revealing his boss on the other side.

“Speak of the devil.” Lando whispers as both of the men straighten back up as their boss steps out of his office. 

"Daniel, I'm so glad you finally decided to join us for your shift that you were scheduled for.” Mark greets, scowling at him.

“Good morning to you too, Mark.” Daniel says, not bothering to hide the sarcasm that coats his words. The older man scoffs at him, rolling his eyes in a way Daniel can only describe as Oscar-worthy with how dramatic it was. 

“Whatever. It’s not like I have been waiting for you all morning to get your lazy ass here.” Mark hisses, motioning his hand to the shark clock on the wall. 11:00 am. Daniel has to repress the urge to roll his eyes. He’s been there for less than 2 minutes, and he’s already having to deal with Mark’s bullshit. That has to be a new record. 

"Sorry, I wasn’t here earlier. Emily decided to have a breakdown this morning about having to stay with my parents for the day.” Daniel explains half-heartedly, knowing no matter what explanation or excuse he gives the older man, he’s not going to be pleased either way.

“Well, maybe you should invest in some parenting classes then since you aren’t doing a great job at controlling your kid.” Mark sneers, “You know what? Never mind, I don’t care at this point.” 

Daniel can feel his frustration growing by the second. Honestly can’t he just back off? He’s here, isn’t he? It’s not like he’s one of the only workers there, besides Lando, who does his job. If it wasn’t for the fact that the pay was nice, Daniel would have been out of there the second Mark started acting this way last summer. Plus he’s been working at the surf shop for almost 5 years now and what has he gotten for it? Nothing except for the temporary title of shift lead whenever Mark isn’t there. 

As if he can sense the tension in the air between the two older men, Lando decides to speak up. 

“Oh uh..by the way, Mark, this dude called earlier. I think he said his name was Jos? He said his son would be here around 11:30.” 

Lando and Daniel both watch as Mark inhales deeply as if Lando’s words were the most aggravating thing he has ever heard. 

“That brings me to my next point. A friend of my old man asked me to hire his son for the summer while they are vacationing here.” Mark explains. Daniel and Lando share a confused look. Mark continues, “The reason why? I have no clue. Something about how he wants his son to learn what the real world is like even though his pocket money is more than what we all make in a year combined.” 

Daniel raises an eyebrow at him, “And you just agreed? Just like that? Who’s going to train him?”

Mark smirks devilishly, “Well that’s where you come in Daniel.” 

“What do you mean ‘that’s where I come in’?”

“Well, you are always complaining that you’ve been here the longest and still haven’t gotten any type of raise or promotion. Well here you go, I’m promoting you to training associate. You are in charge of training the kid and also keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” 

Daniel can’t help but feel the heat of anger from earlier rise beneath his skin. “So you expect me to not only train this kid I’ve never even met but also babysit the little brat as well? What the hell do you think I am? A damn babysitter?!” He snaps, crossing his arms and scowling at the older man. 

“I’m nineteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”

All three of the men snap their heads back towards the front door, only to see, who Daniel presumes is the kid Mark was mentioning, standing in the entryway. Daniel blinks as he tries to take in the teen’s appearance. He doesn’t look like any nineteen-year-old Daniel has ever seen. Sure, he has semi-smooth skin, with a blemish here and there, and an overall youthful glow about him but for some reason, something’s off about him. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders are a bit broader than his own or how his jaw is a bit too sharp for Daniel’s liking. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

“Max! I didn’t expect you to be here so soon! Is it 11:30 already?” 

Daniel glances at the clock on the wall. 11:09 am.

The teen trudges over to the front counter where the others are standing and crosses his arms. “My dad said I should show up early just in case you guys were busy or something. But, by the looks of it, you aren’t and are instead talking bad about me behind my back.” Max explains, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. 

Daniel looks over at the teen, studying his face more intently now that he is standing next to him instead of a few feet away at the door. His brow is furrowed. His pale skin is tinted with a shade of pink from the harsh Australian sun. There is a collection of freckles that are scattered across his jawline and up to the middle of his cheek, with a single one lying on his upper lip. He notices now that the teen is just a bit taller than him. Not by much but enough to make Daniel even more wary than he was before. 

Mark shakes his head, “Please forgive my employee, Daniel, here Max. He has had a bit of a rough morning so his mood isn’t the best right now.” 

‘The only reason why I have had a rough morning is because of you jackass.’ Daniel thinks to himself as he shoots a glare at his boss. 

Max rolls his eyes, “Whatever.”

Daniel and Lando exchange glances once again, as if to telepathically ask each other if this is what they are really going to have to deal with for the next two and half months. 

The sound of Mark clearing his throat makes the two of them look up towards their boss. 

“Anyway, as I was saying. My employee, Daniel here, will be in charge of training you and just overall making sure you're settling in here nicely.” Mark explains, clearly trying to skip over the part where Daniel called Max a brat that he has to babysit. 

Daniel shifts his eyes over to the teen next to him. Max doesn’t look impressed. He still has his arms crossed and his lips have formed a tight line of annoyance. Honestly, Daniel can’t blame him. If he was in his shoes, aka if he was a rich kid who probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and his parents suddenly made him get a job at a dingy old surf shop while they were on a  summer vacation, he would be pissed too. 

There is a beat of awkward silence that fills the air between the four. 

“I’m guessing this is the part where I introduce myself?” Lando chuckles awkwardly, drawing the other’s attention to himself. Max stares at him silently, as if he is waiting for the other to say something else that will ultimately aggravate him even more. 

“I’m Lando. I started working here about a year and a half ago. I go to the university just up the street. I usually work in the mornings because I have night classes.” He explains. Max doesn’t say anything, instead, he sighs, uninterested. 

Lando scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh..When I’m not working or in class you can usually find me in my dorm playing video games.” The mention of video games makes the teen’s ears perk up with interest.

“You play video games?” Max asks in a slightly less annoyed voice than before.

“Yeah! I play all sorts of games like GTA, God of War, and F123. I actually stream my gameplay on Twitch with my friends from time to time. You should join sometime. I bet it would be really fun.” 

Daniel doesn’t know if it’s the heat getting to him or what but he swears he sees the faintest hint of a smile on Max’s face when Lando mentions him joining him in a gaming session. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Seemingly pleased with the exchange, Mark claps his hands together like a coach trying to round up his team for a debriefing after a game. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, Max, how would you like to follow Daniel around for today to get a feel of the environment and how things work around here?” 

Daniel can feel the teen’s eyes on him before he even turns his head. His stare is as cold as ice and Daniel worries that if the teen doesn’t look away, he might burn a hole through his head. 

The universe must have been on his side because just as Daniel thought he would never look away, Max shifts his eyes toward Mark. The stare he gives Mark is just as cold. 

“Whatever.” 

“Perfect. Now let’s get started.”

[sinkingquail]

a ramble about taliesin's spoon-feeding line

cw: caregiver burnout, dementia hi @dynamite124 please let me know if you want me to take the audio file down!

i was thinking about how taliesin really would take care of the ldb for the rest of their life if they happen to be unable to take care of themselves after reading the elder scroll

aka rambles from someone working as a caregiver for people with dementia and how fucking meaningful this is

(this is half me being amazed at tally, half me explaining the horrors of dementia)

tl;dr: i believe that by the time taliesin says this line, he genuinely loves the player. like so, so much i can't even begin to describe it.

to preface this, i've been working in memory care for about half a year now. it is so fucking heartbreaking, guys.

for those unfamiliar with dementia, it's a very slow, insidious disease that results in memory loss first and foremost, but can also lead to paranoia, aggression, loss of motor function, inability to process sensory info, aspiration pneumonia (this is usually what kills people with dementia - it's important for people that have trouble swallowing to be on a puréed food diet and let me tell you, it looks fucking terrible)

here's a few examples of the people in my care. note that these are people that families have decided they can no longer take care of and pay a LOT of money for their care, so they tend to be in the later stages of dementia:

guy that is just constantly walking around the building. his eyes don't track you, he doesn't react to most stimulus, when he talks it's nonsense. he's in his 70s.

lady that says her dog is running around, she can see her in the hallways. her dog is over the rainbow bridge as of last year. she is also one of our most independent residents

guy that i'd transfer from his wheelchair to his chair. after he sits, he would touch the wheelchair and ask me what it is

the one i want to talk about the most, a husband and wife that have been married for 60+ years. the husband is cognitively intact and very independent (he can drive) and the wife, well... she's absolutely dependent on us

anyways, here's the exact quote taliesin says when the dragonborn messes with him and pretends they've actually gone insane from reading the elder scroll:

"You had me half worried I'd have to spoon feed you for the rest of your life. And that is NOT a kink I am into."

(leave it to tally to use humor to deflect again) i cannot stress how insane this is.

anyways, the husband that i mentioned previously has essentially halted the rest of his time on earth to take care of his wife, who he's been married to for over 60 years. it is simultaneously heartbreaking and beautiful just how much love the husband has for this person.

i'd like to compare that to taliesin, who will say this after... how long of knowing the ldb? like a couple years, max?

(this is not to downplay the husband's sacrifice, but rather to give a comparison of the sheer amount of love that goes into making this kind of decision)

i argue that by the time this happens in-game, taliesin truly, truly loves the player (whether platonically or romantically is up to interpretation). he'd have to love them, to genuinely want to spend however long the ldb has left to take care of them.

it's even more meaningful when you remember that taliesin wants to see the world. by taking care of you, he's most definitely giving that up. and he'd do it in a heartbeat. there's also a matter of how long tally would act as caregiver for. i don't know how old they are but altmer live a fucking long time (i think like... 300 years?), and depending on the race of your ldb, this quote can be that much more meaningful. (it's still super meaningful even if the ldb would die in a year, tbh. tally had basically just gotten the chance to escape the thalmor)

and of course, what does the ldb's insanity look like? no idea. but i can tell you that when people's dementia progress, their personality changes. they can become more irritable, lash out, get violent. now imagine what that's like if you're taking care of the freaking dragonborn instead of someone that's 80+ years old.

not to mention how fucking exhausting caregiving is. i've been only working this job for half a year, part-time and i'm so tired. i also work a little less than 20% of the hours in a week, these people need 24/7 care. the work is insane, and tally is insane for offering to take this on. especially without help.

does taliesin realize how much work it is? would he tap out after a bit? im not sure, but to even offer such a thing in the first place just goes to show how much love he has for the player. and i think that's beautiful

(this was a very long-winded way of saying that taliesin's gesture is genuinely born out of love for the player. i'm also very passionate about the work i do, please feel free to message me if you have any questions about dementia, or just need someone to vent to.)

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

the sheer zoomies my brain did when i realised i hadn't checked for new chapters for a few weeks and found that indeed, i have several to catch up on (which i'll go do in a moment, i am sure they'll be wonderful, and the more the merrier!)

i haven't caught up on reading the other asks & answers yet either but i am just going to assume no one came in with this particular one since it's rather specific,,, so

i was thinking the other day, y'know how the archons' eyes and stuff can glow? and it might be a slightly odd thing to pick on, but i don't think it's because of anything specifically gnosis related, since, well, playable character things ought to be all-time accurate or after stuff happens, if anything. and also ei/raiden. has not had hers for some time. but she still gets that. that's probably a better argument. so, i assume it's like a light/godly energy thing maybe? or just some kind of really strong amount of elemental energy kind of thing. i don't want to assume that it's only the archons that have it because, well, we haven't exactly gotten to see other gods very much, and with the archons it's not there all the time, either. ...and elemental things just tend to glow anyway, it's just a really specific instance of it. at any rate, that leads me to the question: since ajax/childe/tartaglia has his uh, very notably lightless eyes, which tends to be attributed to the whole. fell into the abyss time, which to me does make sense. if we assume it's just a light/godly energy thing in general, would he have any of that potentially in the fic now? how would that work if the lightlessness is from the abyss? it's not like the abyss influence disappeared, after all. even if it, say, might show but might not show really bright, because well, his eyes are still. kind of. lightless, usually, i assume, and it really is just an assumption (i could go on a whole debate with myself on if they would even still be pretty much. mostly lightless but i'll just stick with assuming for now,,,). but maybe if not really bright, something that feels more underlying but is still... there? the best way i can put it into words is how the "bright" feeling comes from the "light" which not always but sometimes comes from, you know, a colour that's closer to white, and therefore lighter or a colour that's just... a lot more potent, for lack of a better way to describe it (it's probably not that simple, i know, but.). so what i mean by something underlying would be if, say, rather than a really light or even more medium kind of colour "shining through", so to speak, something that's.... perhaps a bit darker than usual, but still there. that's a really random thought to spring on you but my brain handed it to me the other day and it's been bothering me when it comes to cool little details or concepts (a very pleasant thinky much thoughts kind of thing) so i thought i would ask your opinion on that one, highly specific detail :] just a concept im curious about is all! i had no idea what to make of it, ahaha,,, i kept wondering if it's stretching the idea too far, but if it is just a light/godly/super-high-elemental energy kind of thing, then well, i can't help but wonder about it now

and a very practically irrelevant tiny thing but im sending this right after a tiny madness of trying to figure out how to maximise childe's ranged charged bow shot damage without using food or bennett. the highest i got is 45,100 from the initial hit (it was on an enemy with pyro and with kazuha boosting hydro but.). sir. how. that feels illegal. he continues to surprise me,, although i got far too invested in that small exercise, and boy does it take a lot to remove his hydro,,,,, but anyway! hope you are having a good day >:] i am off to see how much fic i can catch up on before sleep time arrives

4- 45k.............................................

you got me thinking- i think it'd be cool if it were something like this. morax' glow is normal light, while ajax', which has an abyssal effect to it, is uv light. morax' eyes just shine while ajax' turn into electric eyestrain blue

[tinylongwing]

I'm here to play the ask game you reblogged!!! 3, 5, 11, and 17 please!!!! the people want to know <3

Hello hello thanks for the questions!

3. What are your favorite subjects to draw? (OCs, your fan faves, etc.)

Birds?? Hahaha okay I won't just leave it at that though. Personal favorites among them are birds of prey, and birds that have any sort of iridescence. I just love that stuff so much. I also *really* love to do insects - and thankfully sometimes I even get asked to do so. It's fun to see that tortoise beetle making the rounds, and there's a paper that's been submitted recently that has some bees and butterflies in it that I illustrated.

And of course all my fandom stuff. I have so much fun drawing fanart, you guys, I wish that the Lord Huron universe fandom was bigger so you guys would have context for all the stuff I draw. Johnnie is very close to my heart, as are his brothers.

5. What piece of art are you still proud of to this day? (Show or describe)

A persistent personal favorite is this illustration of California Condors for Siegel and Wilkerson 2022 in The Wildlife Professional:

(Unfortunately apparently the journal doesn't understand image formats so the online version of the article uses the CMYK image, so the colors are all messed up!! argh!)

That condor piece I think has some of my best feather rendering and I'm really happy with the wood texture too!

11. Have you ever drawn a meme with your OCs or canon characters from a fictional media?

I mean, oh perfect Friday is a very small meme within the LH fandom? lmao I think that's all I've got for this

17. Your personal favorite works of art (not made by you) are...?

Jeez, I don't even know, honestly! Go pick anything from the folks I named as inspiration from the last ask, haha. Here, I'll show one from Szabolcs Kókay and one from John Conway, but their portfolios are linked at those names and you should click and enjoy all their stuff.

Top: Brown Sicklebill, Szabolcs Kokay

Look, I'm telling you, I'm obsessed with this guy's work! What the hell! How does a human being paint like that! Obviously with decades of study but man I am so impressed with the sheer amount of detail he can capture. I would love to know how long it takes him to do his paintings.

Bottom: Brachiosaurus altithorax, John Conway

John Conway is one of my favorite paleoartists in how he presents these animals artistically rather than purely scientifically. He plays a lot with surrealism, pattern, and unusual compositions, and it's such a treat to see what his mind can come up with.

[sburbian-sage]

You know, you get all these people who talk about the funny and silly things they do in their sessions and the weird things they find but

I feel like you dont get enough people that talk about how utterly horrifying it is to live like this

To be eternally stuck in a body thats never yours and be forced through death over and over and over

I should be turning 65 this year or at least close, copious amounts of time travel make it impossible to keep accurate track. Ive gone through dozens and dozens of sessions, learned things, forgotten most, ive loved and lived and died, and fought and fought and fought because in sburb you can never stop fighting not even for a moment

Ive turned entire sessions into fragmented code and ripped open holes into the deepest of voids and me and my coplayers jump in every time, new friends, new beings, new lives

Ive waded through the gene code slop of cancerous frogs and come out the other side more construct and grist than flesh only to wake up eternally 13

Ive killed at least a dozen coplayers, either because they were pkers or for the safety of my other coplayers

Ive been transitioning in every session for nearly 30 years only to finish the game and wake up 13 in the wrong body over and over

Sburb is hell, or as close as we can get

But its also so, so, beautiful

Watching skaia break the horizon on prospit and sink below on derse, hundreds of lands never cease to be beautiful in their own ways, fog on broken buildings and mist in endless pines, oceans of anything imaginable sloshing on candy cane beaches and sand made of broken screens

The birth of a Genesis Frog is continuously one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, the sheer majesty of a being that contains a universe, of such internal scale that it boggles the mind

Sburb is so many many things but above all it is a game of creation and survival, its a world drunk on its own pure space, pure volume. Where the laws of physics don't exist and space is a suggestion and time less than a guidebook, its imagination in its purest most distilled form

Its my home, and the only thing ive ever known

I was originally going to be really mean and point out that "nobody talks about how badly SBURB sucks" because everyone already knows it. Every bad thing you described, 20 people are experiencing *right now*, in this very moment. It's kind of like walking into the Room Full of Spikes That Stab You In The Eyes, seeing that everyone is telling stories to take their mind off of things, and then asking why they don't acknowledge how painful the spikes are. But this kind of turned into a sappy vent post. Which I also don't like, but I'll allow it this one time.

Sorry to hear about the transitioning thing, by the way. I'm fairly certain that SBURB should be scanning your brain and generating Dream Self and God Tier bodies congruent with whatever's in there. Either this is a very bad and persistent bug you've kept running into, or you're genderquirked in a different way. Every time I've seen discussions on this topic, it's always centered binary trans people. Maybe the nonbinaries are better at dealing with it, or turned into oysters and can't type or something.

I am glad to hear about everything else though. Fight on!

[cozcat]

Costuming the Amyrlin, part 2

For the sake of spoiler avoidance, this post is in two parts. Please read part 1 on Siuan's costuming as we've seen onscreen so far before reading this post!

At some point in the show, we are going to be seeing Siuan when she is no longer the Amyrlin, and we are going to see Egwene and Elaida as two very different Amyrlins. They have room to go in some very different directions with their costumes, and thus far, I think Siuan's costumes as Amyrlin really lend themselves to this. So this is my speculation, based on what they've done so far, and the elements of Siuan's costuming as they lend themselves to other characters, and how we can contrast them.

Siuan Sanche after the Tower

If you're reading this post, you're very aware that Siuan's time as Amyrlin is not going to last much longer - very scared, but very excited to see Sophie Okonedo absolutely kill it as we see that contrast between Siuan Sanche the Amyrlin Seat, Siuan the stilled runaway, and Siuan Sedai.

It seems a safe bet that Siuan's costumes after the coup will be a lot simpler and a lot more comfortable, and that'll continue in Salidar, not just as a runaway. Siuan on the run, as well as Siuan in Salidar, is Siuan with actual control and agency over the very simple thing of choosing what to wear. Or, as much control as you can have with little in the way of funds or resources. But I wouldn't be shocked if it's a one-way shift - even once the Tower reunites, Siuan will be in a position to have a lot more control over every element of herself, and sticking her in costumes that she would be more comfortable in is an easy visual cue to support whatever she says and does.

(As an aside: I hope Sharon knows that I'll be finding her for A Conversation if she takes cues from the way the books describe Siuan's costumes in Salidar and Tel'aran'rhiod. There are many things that happen in these books that should remain on the page and never grace our screens and a good chunk of that list pertains to Siuan. But anyway...)

Also: I would love it if we get Siuan with a protective hairstyle once she's out of the Tower. Please.

Elaida as Amyrlin

Elaida is going to be living for this. I have no doubt that Elaida's costumes will make Siuan's seem subdued. But how can that happen when Siuan's are already so ostentatious? Add more stuff. Make it tacky. Siuan's regalia, while ostentatious, is tasteful; Elaida is decidedly not. Elaida seems exactly the type to add gems, to add jewellery, to add colour - she wears a lot of red in the books, and if she continues to do so in the show, it will stand out even more after an Amyrlin whose clothing remained neutral. It's a very sharp visual contrast. Elaida is desperately clinging to power, to prestige, to the illusion of respect - I've no doubt that her costuming will reflect that.

I do still expect some continuity with Siuan's costumes, though, at least to start. The papal shapes, with huge swathes of fabric disguising the person underneath; the sheer amount of embroidery and other decoration, a clear display of how much time can be afforded for one garment to be worn by one person. But where Siuan's costumes were neutral, Elaida's will not be. Where Siuan's costumes were subtle (or as subtle as a queen-pope-leader role can allow), Elaida's will not be.

And by making Elaida be so overt in her show of power and resources, it will contrast spectacularly with Egwene in Salidar.

Egwene as Amyrlin

When Egwene is raised, Salidar will have no resources to make her look the Amyrlin in the way that Siuan looked the Amyrlin - they don't have the funds, they don't have the tailors, they don't have the fabric. I'm expecting this to be where the stole of the books to make its appearance - they cannot make Egwene look like she could stand next to a queen, but they can make her recognisable in her role with some strips of fabric.

But also: as I mentioned earlier, the olivey-gold colour that comes when you blend the seven colours of the Ajahs, that bears a striking resemblance to the gold of Siuan's costumes? I can see Egwene wearing that colour, in far simpler clothing. It would be a fairly subtle call-back to Siuan's costumes, dialling down in opposition to the way in which Elaida's will inevitably be dialled up. Egwene's costumes will take the colour, and make the clothing simpler; Elaida's will take the ostentation and the structure, and make it obnoxious.

And when she reunites the Tower, she may not end up in full regalia. Of course, she might, as it would symbolise the reunification, making it feel wholly formal. But I wouldn't be surprised if her regalia is plainer - she was the Amyrlin of a rebel faction, and she did not have the regalia of the position; she does not need it now, because there is no doubt of her role. She does not need to reinforce her position by showing her resources, and given what she has achieved without much at all, a lack of ostentation will lend her more credence than anything else. Egwene as Amyrlin ushers in a new age for the Tower - the vestments may be another thing that she discards with the old ways.

It's still early days - we've yet to see Siuan in season 2, and things may change, depending on the costumes we see her in. (I believe I heard mention of a travelling outfit in this video, and it sounds like it's referring to one we don't see, but I'm not sure.) However, with what they've done so far, I think they've set themselves up spectacularly to show both the change in Siuan over her arc, and the ways in which the Amyrlins that succeed her play their hands in their roles.

[thefeathercollective]

we're 99.9% sure that portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa was plural.

okay uh disclaimer. we're not a psychology or literature expert by any means. we rarely even read poetry. we only heard of this guy in high school literature class and the thought stuck with us and then we found plausible evidence lmao. also, as a plural system ourselves, we're clearly biased.

and a considerable amount of this post will be sourced from wikipedia. and this is the first time we've made a post like this. please don't come after us I'm just writing this for fun lmao

huge ramble ahead!

who even was that man

Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa (Portuguese: [fɨɾˈnɐ̃du pɨˈsoɐ]; 13 June 1888 – 30 November 1935) was a Portuguese poet, writer, literary critic, translator, publisher, and philosopher, described as one of the most significant literary figures of the 20th century and one of the greatest poets in the Portuguese language. He also wrote in and translated from English and French.

yeah that's who the man was. but what really sparked our interest in him during class and made us wonder if he was plural were his...

✨heteronyms✨

y'know pseudonyms? when someone writes under a different name than their own for whatever reason? these are similar, but the catch is that the different names have different personalities, supposed appearances, philosophies, all that shit.

the term was coined by Pessoa himself, and his heteronyms were written as if they were real people. they had detailed careers, histories, etc. he had at least 70, although I vaguely remember some other source estimating it at around 100.

"but eva, these could just be OCs or something!",

he had 3 main ones though, being Alberto Caeiro (known for interpreting the world as-is, without greater meaning or anything, like some sorta anti-poet), Álvaro de Campos (a naval engineer who even had multiple phases in his philosophy) and Ricardo Reis (who wrote with a lot of structure and rationality, and was very pessimistic).

I predict someone typing. to that, I begin my endless copy-paste + ramble about all the things that make us think the heteronyms were headmates.

I'll throw in a section of a letter Pessoa wrote to some other poet (bolding the parts I find relevant because I don't love walls of text lmao)

How do I write in the name of these three? Caeiro, through sheer and unexpected inspiration, without knowing or even suspecting that I'm going to write in his name. Ricardo Reis, after an abstract meditation, which suddenly takes concrete shape in an ode. Campos, when I feel a sudden impulse to write and don't know what. (My semi-heteronym Bernardo Soares, who in many ways resembles Álvaro de Campos, always appears when I'm sleepy or drowsy, so that my qualities of inhibition and rational thought are suspended; his prose is an endless reverie. He's a semi-heteronym because his personality, although not my own, doesn't differ from my own but is a mere mutilation of it. He's me without my rationalism and emotions. His prose is the same as mine, except for certain formal restraint that reason imposes on my own writing, and his Portuguese is exactly the same – whereas Caeiro writes bad Portuguese, Campos writes it reasonably well but with mistakes such as "me myself" instead of "I myself", etc.., and Reis writes better than I, but with a purism I find excessive…)

so not only does he describe writing Caeiro completely unexpectedly, he also gives the same sort of opinion about his heteronyms' writings that we've seen (and experienced) plural folks give about their headmates' typing or drawing styles.

hell, "writes better than I but with a purism I find excessive" is exactly my opinion of lynn when he does our assignments lmao

the semi-heteronym surfacing when Pessoa is sleepy could be some sorta dissociative state that lets a headmate come through, be it straight-up fronting or passive influence... but I'm probably forcing it too much here.

uhhh here's something on the heteronym thing from some guy called richard zenish. I bolded some parts again

For each of his 'voices', Pessoa conceived a highly distinctive poetic idiom and technique, a complex biography, a context of literary influence and polemics and, most arrestingly of all, subtle interrelations and reciprocities of awareness. [...] Pessoa was often unsure who was writing when he wrote, and it's curious that the very first item among the more than 25,000 pieces that make up his archives in the National Library of Lisbon bears the heading A. de C. (?) or B. de D. (or something else).

"okay.... they could still be characters though"

the heteronyms were aware of and sometimes interacted between themselves. wikipedia's list of Pessoa's heteronyms even has the man himself as a heteronym and pupil of Alberto Caeiro, although I don't feel like going after the source for that bit.

dear hypothetical person I'm quoting here, you're entitled to your opinion. but how about we take, say... a more DID/OSDD-y approach to things? because there's things that hint that Fernando Pessoa's plurality could be traumagenic and/or disordered too.

When Pessoa was five, his father, Joaquim de Seabra Pessôa, died of tuberculosis and less than seven months later his younger brother Jorge, aged one, also died (2 January 1889).

(written by himself about himself:) Nothing had ever obliged him to do anything. He had spent his childhood alone. He never joined any group. He never pursued a course of study. He never belonged to a crowd. The circumstances of his life were marked by that strange but rather common phenomenon – perhaps, in fact, it's true for all lives – of being tailored to the image and likeness of his instincts, which tended towards inertia and withdrawal.

(written by a schoolfellow:) For one of his age, he thought much and deeply and in a letter to me once complained of "spiritual and material encumbrances of most especial adverseness". He took no part in athletic sports of any kind and I think his spare time was spent on reading. We generally considered that he worked far too much and that he would ruin his health by so doing.

so childhood trauma, check...? at the very least this stuff doesn't sound very good for a child's mental health.

Pessoa's earliest heteronym, at the age of six, was Chevalier de Pas. Other childhood heteronyms included Dr. Pancrácio and David Merrick, followed by Charles Robert Anon, a young Englishman who became Pessoa's alter ego.

"I can remember what I believe was my first heteronym, or rather, my first nonexistent acquaintance — a certain Chevalier de Pas — through whom I wrote letters to myself when I was six years old, and whose not entirely hazy figure still has a claim on the part of my affections that borders on nostalgia. I have a less vivid memory of another figure . . . who was a kind of rival to the Chevalier de Pas. Such things occur to all children ? Undoubtedly — or perhaps. But I lived them so intensely that I live them still; their memory is so strong that I have to remind myself that they weren’t real."

oh I just found some spiritual stuff too

the appearance of the first heteronym was after his family members died so that's one thing... and like, that's not just one childhood heteronym but at least four. and well, to me they sound a bit too vivid for your average imaginary friend.

Pessoa's interest in spiritualism was truly awakened in the second half of 1915, while translating theosophist books. This was further deepened in the end of March 1916, when he suddenly started having experiences where he believed he became a medium, having experimented with automatic writing. [...] Besides automatic writing, Pessoa stated also that he had "astral" or "etherial visions" and was able to see "magnetic auras" similar to radiographic images. [...] Mediumship exerted a strong influence in Pessoa's writings, who felt "sometimes suddenly being owned by something else" or having a "very curious sensation" in the right arm, which was "lifted into the air" without his will. Looking in the mirror, Pessoa saw several times what appeared to be the heteronyms: his "face fading out" and being replaced by the one of "a bearded man", or another one, four men in total.

........

man, this wikipedia article is extensive and full of stuff that supports our silly little theory, huh.

yeah, so he attributed it to spiritual reasons which is fair and valid, but... "owned by something else" all of a sudden? the thing with the right arm sounding a lot like partial possession in tulpamancy? seeing his heteronyms' faces in the mirror?

yeahhhh.

(I'm guessing the magnetic aura thing could be some sorta derealization, contributing to the he-was-a-dissociative-system hypothesis, but that's yet another stretch on my part.)

(plus, spiritual plurality is a thing.)

oh! this thing he wrote sounds a lot like it too.

"This tendency to create around me another world . . . began in me as a young adult, when a witty remark that was completely out of keeping with who I am or think I am would sometimes and for some unknown reason occur to me, and I would immediately, spontaneously say it as if it came from some friend of mine whose name I would invent, along with biographical details, and whose figure — physiognomy, stature, dress and gestures — I would immediately see before me."

let's just do a quick google..

am I biased? yes, very much so. but y'know. you can see I have my reasons.

to see if any people with more qualifications than we have think the same about Fernando Pessoa possibly being plural lmao.

...oh, yes. contrary to what we thought a couple years ago when we had that class about the guy, other people have indeed thought the same. and written about it.

keywords "fernando pessoa mpd" give us:

this paper from 2012 (in portuguese) that... well, I *think* it claims he had mpd but it's very convoluted and abstract about it

this little... forum post? from 2009 that quotes a dead link :v

this one seems kinda cool. it regards Pessoa's positive approach to his heteronym-having as a creative condion called Pessoa Syndrome, and later mentions some Multiple Personality Order (not disorder). don't love some of its wording about mental disorders and madness... it's good to see someone consider healthy multiplicity as a thing that exists, though. it also claims Pessoa became someone with multiple personalities through his heteronymic writing, which is yet another possible origin I hadn't considered before for some fucking reason.

this one cites a dissociative process

this one straight up calls it "subject plurality"!

conclusion ig. I'm pretending to be organized here.

other keywords (like "fernando pessoa dissociative") provide some more results :0 but I've been writing this post for far too long now and would rather not read through more odd wording lmao

it really surprises me that wikipedia doesn't mention the possibility at all from what I've read and ctrl+F'ed. I thought we were being a conspiracy theorist about it but then I found even more stuff to back us up, including other people's analyses. so that's nice.

and I think this kind of thing, of plurals of the past, should be talked about more in the community. it's really interesting to say the least.

...

how does one even end a post like this one.

uhh thanks for reading!!

[yuu-kumeii]

"What do you think you'll get for White day, [Y/N]?"

"Oh, probably a box of chocolates or something heart themed"

You don't actually know and for good reason too. For as long as you've been married, you can never exactly pin down your husband's train of thought when it comes to his love language. Love language being the term that he uses to justify the ungodly amount of things he buys you on any available occasion. It's not wrong call it his love language but you think there would be a word to describe the sheer amount of excuses he has compiled in that mind of his for every gift he brings home for you.

Unfortunately, as much as you want to use the word spoil to describe it. No word can encapsulate the excuses ~and~ the frequency of these presents. They're like objects that suddenly appear in your house like they've been there this whole time, but you know they haven't. Everytime one appears, you ask your husband and get the confirmation that "Yes, they are for you and no I will not take no for answer" before the culprit skips off to work like he didn't just buy you completely cute but unnecessary.

So that's why you can earnestly say you don't actually know. Because White day day? You know, the holiday where it's customary to give something back to the one you love? The one holiday that reciprocates care for the bond you have with another, that White Day? Trying to guess would be like trying to guess how you die, other than the most obvious option, you can't just guess and know whether or not you're right. But now that you think about it, maybe this Valentine's day will be the one where you get a nice, regular sized box of chocolates and maybe even a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Though you hope that this time, he'll let the store clerk help him with arranging it. Whatever you're getting on this Valentine's day might be completely ordinary and similar to the ones your coworkers get from their significant others....

Oh who are you kidding? It's probably going to be extra.

But you have no time to think about that because it's right back to work after all the Valentine's talk around the office. Well at least you try to ignore it but with the obvious flower decor and suprise partners visiting to see their significant other hard at work, it's hard not to let your mind spiral once again to dwell on just what your unpredictable husband might get you. Yet you persist in your work and tune out everything around you for the time being. Hopefully until the end of your shift which may or may not be earlier than usual given the chipper yet intimidatingly efficient work ethic of your coworkers today. If only they were like this every other day.... Oh well, you'll take what you can get.

The workload vanished as fast as it came, everyone was ready to pack up and leave to celebrate what was left of Valentine's day with their partners. Some already left once they've finished their share while the rest opted to stay for a bit of chit chat, more discussion on what their partners would get them and all the more reason you feel lost in your answer to the various questions thrown your way. It's no secret to anyone that your husband would sell his kidney if it meant getting you something special, the thought came up so frequently that it became a running joke at your expense. Not that you really minded since the jokes were more than true to reality itself, you can't count the amount of times your husband burst in your office in a panic just because you accidentally left your lunch at home. He'd pout while telling you to be more careful as if he hasn't left his fair share of packed lunches, though you do think he might be doing it on purpose just to see and brag about you to his friends.

You've really been drifting in your thoughts the whole work day because the second you take in your surroundings, there were only a handful of people left. Gone were the endless conversations and the bright office light, replaced with a sunset glow signalling for your departure. Absentmindedly bidding the rest goodbye, you walk into the elevator and descend. Alone with your thoughts once more but not for long, as the doors open to reveal an empty reception desk. Man, you really have lost track of time. The sun starts to bid its farewell yet it doesn't stop the sound of people getting pulled into pastry shops for a last minute White day gift. Well it might not be last minute but it does look like it considering the greatly reduced amounts of people. You remember just how crowded the shopping mall was, partners and students alike rushing to find something for their significant other. How funny it reminded you of yourself in high school, who would've thought the amount of stress it took just to find the perfect Valentine's Day chocolates for your then school crush. The same crush who ended up spoiling you for White Day, telling you to wait for his graduation because White Day wasn't the only day he wanted to spoil you. Such a cheesy line, how did you ever see him as anything but a dork? You know the answer to that yet remembering it would be too embarrassing.

In the midst of all your reminiscing, you didn't realize you were already home until you almost tripped on the first step. But not to worry, you've done that at least 2 times eversince you both moved in so you're probably almost immune to the pain.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

With nothing else to stall with, you finally make your way inside the desolate house. The lights still off and nothing out of place, just how you left it this morning. To be honest, you feel like it looks a bit sad. But that's probably because it's White Day and your husband is probably just on his way home now, the empty house makes you feel like a single woman but not to worry because that will change at one point of the evening. In the meantime, you settled for a shower to get your mind off the White Day everything. Even though your house has nothing even relating to it, the anticipation of your husband showing up to finally answer the question that's been nagging at the back of your head is killing you. Once changed, you make your way to the kitchen to get yourself something to eat while waiting for—

Knock

Knock

Knock

Oh no.

He's here.... and doesn't choose to just walk inside? He wants you to open the door for him and what? See for yourself what he has planned? Does he want you to open the door to surprise you? To tackle you inside? What if he doesn't have a gift and he just gives you a hug? Nothing wrong with that but all that stress for a hug? Well, it might not be but what if—

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Oh right he's still there, still waiting for you to open the door. Well, here goes nothing—

"Welcome ho— eh—"

This was not what you were expecting, this was far from it actually. You knew your husband wouldn't dare forget something like White Day but neither did you think his surprise would be this well surprising. Now you don't actually know what this is supposed to be but what you can say is that it's a lot, very overwhelming because if it weren't for the doorframe you're sure it would tower over you no matter what height you are. The thing that surprised you the most was the fluffy teddy bear face that greeted you instead of your husband, the teddy bear had a good enough face but you'd rather kiss the love of your life than the ominous blank face of a stuffed bear that clearly is one size too large for your door. Not only the bear, but there was an ocean of red, pink, and white around it. Bouquets themed after one color each and chocolates of different shapes and flavors with their boxes to match, there were boxes of what you assume are pastries from the shopping district coupled with enough cards to last till your 25th anniversary yet even all that probably doesn't scrape the surface of this White Day gift supreme package or whatever it is. But behind it all was the sheepish expression of your husband who politely asks to be let inside so none of what he's carrying would bury you, as someone who values their life you step aside to let him in. Though you should've seen it coming, nothing could prepare you for the look of absolute disarray once your husband found out he couldn't just waltz in and have the gifts phase through the wall. He looks so confused now that he has to actually think of how he's going to get him and the pile inside the house, you can see it behind his eyes. The desolate mind behind it too tired to find an answer, to the point he felt the need to look at you with a helpless face just begging you to help him.

And being the helpful lover you are, you laugh at his dismay before giving him an amused expression. It isn't until he starts pouting outside in the night breeze unwilling to step inside until the pile gets in first that you roll your eyes playfully before telling him to put the pile down so you both can take it in more manageable bundles. Your husband puts the pile down and watches as you take the top of his haul into your hands to place it on your kitchen counter, still watching as you go back to get more. It's ok though, because you can see the gears turning in his head for a second which finally prompts him to start mirroring your actions. Not long after, the mass is successfully moved inside. Now that you have a proper look at it, most of these things look like they've been kept in good condition. Not that you think the quality would be in shambles but you expected at least a little bit of wear and tear considering the time it took for these to get here, assuming he bought them during the prime time for White Day sales that is.

Oh how wrong you are, but you'll find that out soon. Right when your thoughts start to spiral, your husband walks downstairs clean and ready to explain himself. Well maybe you'll be the one to make him but that's besides the point.

"Ok... Care to explain why this pile of chocolates, flowers and cards is about three times your size?" The calm smoothness of your voice cannot mask the entirety of your awe but it's enough to have your husband stop in his place like a deer caught in headlights, you're not even looking at him at this point. Turned towards the pile of chocolate that definitely should be in the fridge by now and yet not making a move to do so. A moment of silence ensues before your husband answers.

"They said that if I got you all this it'll make you love me more..."

Huh.

"Wait, who are 'they'?"

"The people at the shopping district, I didn't have time to get you a gift in the morning so I went there on the way home and then the people there came up to me saying how they have 'the perfect White Day surprise for your partner' and about how you'd expect something big from me today.... So I bought everything they recommended...."

This guy. This pure, dumb, cute, whatever thing you can call him—! You can't believe he got ganged up like that! How dare those shopkeepers take advantage of your poor defenseless husband on White Day! You can imagine the smirks on those guys, probably proud of themselves about the last minute sale they managed to get. All because your husband was manipulated into thinking you'd love him any less if he came home empty handed, the audacity of some people! You'll give them a piece of your mind when you get the chance—

"Are you mad?"

You must've let it show on your face that you're planning to probably beat up some poor store clerk right after White Day, but it's fine because he will never know the thoughts behind the face. And honestly, you aren't mad. Far from it actually, you feel so loved. Because what kind of person would willingly follow the suggestions of multiple shopkeepers from different shops on gifts for their wife? Well, your husband unsurprisingly but it's in the name of love so everything should be fine. Though you will make sure to tell him that just one White Day package is enough of a surprise already, not to mention the fact that you might have to share the chocolates with friends and family if you don't want them to be wasted.

"No of course not, c'mere... "

With light footsteps you stop right in front of him, gazing into his eyes with a loving look. You smile and take his face into your hands, his breath hitches at the distance between you. Funny how you do this on almost every 'special occasion' and yet he still acts as if it's the first time you've done anything this intimate. Besides that, you continue to close the distance before giving him a kiss. One that prompts him to put his hands on your hips out of reflex to pull you closer, a light hue spread across his face making him look extra cute. But before he could reciprocate, you pull away causing him to chase your lips. A giggle was pulled from you at the sight of your big strong husband all pouty and flush, looking at you with eyes that screamed for you to continue kissing him. Unfortunately for him, it seems you have other plans because not only did you pull away from the kiss, you pulled yourself away from him entirely. Your husband looks so lost, even more so when you turn away from him to pick up a box of chocolates. Opening it and popping one into your mouth before looking back at him innocently.

"What? We have all this chocolate now, can't let it go to waste"

Your smile dropping into an amused grin as you kept eating the chocolates, leaving your husband to once again take a few seconds to process what you just said. Finally gathering his bearings, your husband huffs at you. Pout still present yet his demeanor now turned playful, you know what he's going to do.

"Why you—! Get over here and gimme that kiss!"

This was better than what you could ever expect.

ATSUMU <3333, BOKUTO <333, HINATA, Kita, Osamu, LEV <33, Kageyama, Oikawa (probably so proud of himself), Kuroo (Definitely proud too), Iwaizumi, All hq boys probably did this at some point let's be real

[starsonablackboard]

i have diagnosed adhd (semi-diagnosed? like my psychiatrist listened to me describing my experience and said "yeah you definitely have it" but i don't have The Piece Of Paper with magic words on it), but i consider it "the boring flavour". like I've never really had hyperfixations and hyperfocuses, i don't change hobbies often, I don't have special interests. my adhd is forgetting what i was doing in the middle of doing it, being physically unable to hold conversations if the music is playing in the background and and not being able to fall asleep faster than in half an hour because my brain refuses to turn off

so imagine my shock and confusion when i got sick for two weeks in the beginning of october, and my cotl interest turned into full blown psychological terminology capital h Hyperfixation.

I've drawn more in those two weeks than in previous two months, i've consumed ungodly amounts of fanfiction, I've translated 17k words of said fanfiction in one day forgetting to eat that whole day as a result (just For Fun for myself, it isn't posted anywhere), I've made this tmblr acc without ever previously even considering the option, I got into fandom for the first time in half a decade, i started every day with couple of hours of cotl gameplay poking into every corner of the game i could, i was living and breathing everything cotl and it was wonderful but also a bit scary

wonderful because i felt truly truly happy in those two weeks. I haven't thought about uni and had a solid excuse and reason to not do schoolwork (cause flu), i had all the time to myself and i devoted all of it to creating art about The Thing my brain sank it's metaphorical teeth into or consuming it. I've never before experienced such steady and bright flow of serotonin and just sheer joy, and it was fantastic. i love doing art in general but in my day to day i often don't have enough time and energy to do as much as i want to, but at that time i had a surplus of both. I've caught a glimpse of a carefree life where i didn't have to worry about responsibilities and could drown myself in creative passions

scary because however wonderful and magical it was i still do have responsibilities, and i was aware of that, and i feared what would happen if my brain still was holding onto The Thing when i got better and had to return back to them (uni stuff mainly, but you know, there's a lot of uni stuff). like hyperfixations are all fun and good when you can actually indulge them, but it's very often not the case.

it worked out for me, hyperfixation gradually turned into just strong interest and here we are now, i just wanted to share how strange this experience was for me, a person who's been living with adhd for over two decades and is well aware of it's quirks, but who's never actually experienced something like this before

[runwayrunway]

No. 50 - All Nippon Airways Airbus A380 "Flying Honu" Livery

Happy 50th Runway Runway post! I had a bit of a hard time deciding what to do for it - after all, it's a pretty significant number. I already sort of know what I want to do for the 100th post, but I hadn't put much thought into the 50th, and I had to scuttle any plans for something long and interesting after a rather stressful week. Instead I decided to do something both fun and requested!

source: ANA Stories

One (well, three!) of the most beloved special liveries out there, All Nippon Airways' turtle-themed "Flying Honu" Airbus A380. These three friendly giants fly from Japan to Honolulu, delighting anyone lucky enough to see them.

Actually, I love the Flying Honu so much I have one myself.

I would describe myself as a bit of a magpie. I collect useless things, be they historical ephemera, horror movie memorabilia, old books, pretty rocks, or way too many fountain pen inks given I mostly use them to take notes. I even have a bunch of my old teeth in a pillbox. Surprisingly, though, the things my talons have lodged in don't include many model airplanes. I have...a few. I've actually, though serendipity, gotten two more since I started this blog, expanding my collection to a startling five. Maybe seven if you count my Starscream and Brainstorm figures, but I don't think I even remember how to put either of them in their alt modes. The fact is that while they aren't a fortune or anything plane figures are expensive enough that it's a commitment to buy one, and I usually only do when I stumble on a good deal for a model I really want. And one of the few times I've actually decided that I just needed a model of a specific livery was the "Flying Honu" A380. Specifically, the one I have is the airframe registered JA382A, Kai. (She's the 1:500 JC Wings diecast model and is around the size of my hand.)

I just needed to be able to gently tap her nose in person, okay? She can't fit up on the shelf with a lot of my other miscellaneous trinkets so she sits on my desk and sometimes I explain things to her while trying to figure them out, like a coding rubber duck. She makes me happy.

All Nippon Airways (全日本空輸) is a major Japanese airline. In fact, in terms of both fleet size and number of destinations they're bigger than flag carrier JAL. They're consistently described as being among the best airlines in the world for the discerning well-to-do business traveler, and let's just say that's not me, but what I am is a reviewer of airline liveries, and ANA sure has those! In addition to their standard Triton Blue livery they do all sorts of special designs, particularly crossovers with properties like Pokémon and Star Wars. All of these are something I would like to someday feature, but none of them matter at all to me when compared to the Flying Honu, introduced with the A380 fleet in 2019.

A couple of times when I've told people I know about this livery they asked me if 'honu' is Japanese for 'turtle'. That's a reasonable question, but the Japanese word for turtle is 'kame'. 'Honu' is the word for turtle, though - in Hawaiian.

image: ANA

In fact, Honolulu is the A380s' only destination. ANA didn't really want A380s to begin with, but ended up stuck with them while acquiring another airline. The thing about the A380, and the reason it failed commercially and so few were ever built, is that the use-case for a massive plane is pretty limited. It goes as such: you have a passengerbase of people who have to travel from one giant hub that can land an A380 to another frequently enough that you can actually make money on a plane with four entire engines.

Okay, so the use-case is that you're Emirates. ANA might be expensive, but they don't really have the central location or sheer amount of regular business travelers that Dubai does. 'Three' also isn't really that many A380s, which creates a bit of a question of reliability. So instead they fixed the problem in a way that's honestly pretty genius: they made it turtles.

image: ANA

ANA seems to be generally invested in Hawaii, with a fair amount of partnerships with local organizations. A lot of Hawaiian real estate is owned by Japanese companies, and those of Japanese descent are the second-larget ethnic group in Hawaii at 16.7%, so it makes sense that a lot of people would want to travel there. Tokyo to Honolulu is a nice 9-hour flight with no possibility for a stopover of any kind (unless they invent civilian aircraft carriers for A380s), so it's the perfect route for precisely three really huge planes.

images: ANA

They can fit 520 passengers across four classes on one flight, seated across both decks of the massive planes. There is also a section of seats which convert to couches, marketed for families. Those who fly this route get to enjoy rainbow lighting and the ability to buy a duty-free 1:500 model of the plane (not the same model I have, though, I'm pretty sure) or a set of Flying Honu plushes.

Ra looks like she's plotting something. Lani looks like she's never had a single thought in her life.

And they do make money off this, because people absolutely love these planes. People have apparently had their weddings on these planes, and I would too! They make ten weekly flights right now, but in December that will be increasing to fourteen weekly, or two daily.

Okay, so, the actual liveries.

Here's Kai in full-size! The light in my room make her look way cooler toned in the photographs, but in real life she's this color. It's frequently described as 'green' or 'emerald green', but I think it's definitely turquoise and would go so far as to call it blue. Whatever the case, it's meant to represent the color of the sea near Hawaii. Kai is also distinct from the others because of her eyes, which are closed as she smiles from ear to ear. That's why she's my favorite - she just looks so happy!

...a bit weirder looking from upfront, but look how even the ventral fairing is painted! That's part of the flippers where they curl around, tucked into the shell. Unlike the Transocean Air Jinbei Jets, the cockpit windows blend in with the 'scales' of the Flying Honu, looking rather natural.

'Ra' is a beautiful orange, meant to represent the Hawaiian sunset. She has a bit of a peach undertone if you look closely, but her details are done in an extremely vivid reddish orange. Her distinguishing feature are those gigantic eyelashes, similar to Sakura Jinbei's. The actual mouth shape on all three planes appears to be the same, but I find that the eyes still give them distinct 'personalities'. Ra has always looked very thoughtful to me.

Just look at her in flight! I've never understood why people call the 747 stately or graceful, and same for the A380 - double-decker planes are just inherently goofy-looking, and that's great, but ANA managed to make one look pretty elegant. I think it's because turtles are already regarded as large and slow creatures, so fitting like for like just makes it seem as natural for this absolutely gigantic aircraft to be flying as it is for a turtle to swim.

Finally, Lani, the turtle everyone agrees to be blue, represents the Hawaiian sky during its brightest color in daylight. If you look closely, you can see her blue 'eyeshadow', which I've always thought made her look relaxed.

This picture gives a good angle of my only real critique of the Flying Honu, which is that the shells and heads don't entirely look aligned, as if the head is in the process of being retracted. That said, I think that's just a fact of working with the shape of an airplane. There's just no more space below to fit any more shell.

Rather than being just one turtle, though, each "Flying Honu" has two fully rendered baby turtles following behind their 'mother'.

I think this is adorable, and beyond that it solves a crucial problem - the tail. Turtles do have those, but not in a way that maps onto a standard empennage. Instead, ANA makes the smart choice to end the shell at a certain point and add these two extra turtles make-way-for-ducklings-ing their way across the fuselage for more visual interest, leaving the tail empty for an ANA logo without making it jarring. This is a huge improvement over the Jinbei Jets, which again serve as a point of comparison as the other major Japanese marine life planes. (Amakusa Airlines is way smaller and thus not going to get caught up in this.)

I mean, it's hard to find too much to say about these that isn't just "oh my gosh, look at them". The Flying Honu are vividly colored, with clever shapes used to make them immediately recognizable as turtles. I smile every time I see one, including the little one on my desk!

And in case you weren't already delighted, there's two extra bonus turtles!

I think it's pretty obvious I'm giving these an A+. Come on, just...just look at them. The fact that ANA bothered to make three distinct ones with their own names and faces is just icing on the cake for me, but I do love that they did.

I can't believe I didn't find a way to fit this in earlier into the post, but I really love turtles. If you have an aquarium near you, and that aquarium has turtles, I really recommend stopping by to see them. My local New England Aquarium has had Myrtle for more than 50 years. As they describe her, 'the 550-lb Queen of the Giant Ocean Tank is large, in charge, and ready to receive your adoration'.

True to form, although a lot larger and dealing in a different type of fluid dynamics, the Flying Honu jets get plenty of my adoration too.

[sir-subpar]

Update on Buddy.

Hello everyone, I want to thank you all for your support.

My family and I are grateful for all of you who donated and spread the word about our beloved Buddy. You all really blew me away with the sheer amount of care and support (both financial and emotional) you gave us and Buddy.

However, I have an unfortunate update to share.

We had another appointment for Buddy, and the cancer has accelerated even more. And the treatment is going to cost far more than previously estimated.

On top of that, I mentioned before that we'd have to go to another state to get the radiation therapy for our dog, turns out, we'd have to live there for the treatment to be available for us.

So, we can't afford the treatment. Even if we could, the vets have said that his cancer has gotten so aggressive, that the radiation might not keep it from coming back again. His quality of life would worsen severely.

Despite everything we have tried, and thr help you all have offered, Buddy is beyond saving.

I really can't thank you all enough for trying so hard to help us save our dog, I can't express how much I appreciate it. I am struggling to describe how saddened I am by the fact that it ended up not being able to do more for our Bud Dog.

We will have to put him down.

I don't know when, but likely soon.

(I am sharing some photos of him pre-cancer here. I want him to be remembered for the dog he was on the inside, not the diagnosis that is taking him.)

Thank you all, for your kindness and care.

[wachtelspinat]

Heya~

I often find it very difficult to find the right words, so I apologize in advance if any of what I have to say sounds dry or wrong, but I write it from the heart, I promise🧡

I know how you feel now and how much you get lost when that realization comes along. I learn art all my life, but I don’t succeed anywhere. No matter how long I try to do it, I still keep thinking “well I’m not good enough”. To be honest it scares the shit out of me every day, because if I’ll give up here… well there’s nothing I can do for life than. When I was in school, I was desperately clung to every fandom I had as my last hope to get rid of bad thoughts and I found those two silly characters that stole my heart immediately so of course it’s weird to say but since then Overwatch has become my “home”. It was not the perfect game but it was fun until Ow2 was released. Even if my love for OW is died, I understood that Junkrat and Roadhog took a much more bigger part in my live that I could ever imagine. I thought it was stupid, like come on that’s just a characters from the old and dead game but it turns out they’re not just characters, but in a way, my family or friends that helped me go through a lot of dark times, so it’s okey to love them deeply even if they are not real~

I always wondered, why do I make art? Is it what I really like and enjoy? Is it cost all the struggles and tears? But I found you and I fall in love with your arts immediately. I could have a really bad day in university but then I remember how I just go to your page to rewatch, for only gods knows how many times, your works. I love everything about them, how you can build a perfect shape with just one line, how many expressions and ideas your works have. Your knowledge of the anatomy is just… freaking olympic🤌🏻✨ you gave me the second breath in my path of an artist because looking at your works I was wondering if I ever be able to achieve such a high level and here I’m speaking not only about arts with Junkrat and Roadhog, I speak about every single one that I could find🧡 and I understood that art in general have much much more power in it that anyone thinks. It gives hope, inspiration, safety, emotions and so on~ even without knowing it, you can make another person’s life a little better.

All I wanted to say is - you are a fantastic person, highly talented and hard working. I’m sure everyone who follows your work will support every of your decision. I just wanted to say a big thank you from myself personally for everything you do🧡

hey ! i'm really sorry that it took me so long to respond, last week was just hell on earth. the sheer amount of words you put into this hit me right in the heart, and what you said made me tear up even more.

having a really hard time here to form my words, not only because my brain feels so fried, but because your ask is so sincere and i don't think i can possibly thank you enough. it's so weird, there is this constant battle in my head that everything is futile and trivial and i'm having a hard time seeing some kind of point behind my actions (not only art related). on the other hand, i know that WE give meaning to something. that it's the small things that tends to move mountains. i don't know if i'm making any sense here. point is. by telling me that - in my opinion - my irrelevant art has given you sth, if it's just a smile, new energy to try sth yourself, inspiration... you are shaking my world. and i'm grateful for that in a way i cannot describe.

and seriously, i don't know why we make art. because as you mentioned yourself it is always connected with doubts and despair. before i entered graphic design school back when i was super young i thought drawing was me. the one integral part that made me so ~special~. just to learn that a bunch of people draw, all around the world, and they often draw even better than i could ever achieve! in the last months of being in university i relied a lot on defining myself through my art again. because it immensely helped with my self-concept when everything around me just felt like i wasn't good enough. i'm kind of re-learning again that doing art is not the one thing that defines me. because i tend to heavily lean into that. it is after all the one thing i actually like about myself.

so yeah, thank you so much for reaching out. i love your art and the love you put into it, so i'm hoping that - despite the struggles we all share while being creative - you continue to draw, as so will i <3

(and junkrat and roadhog, man... yeah they're not just characters, they stopped being just characters from a game a long time ago for me. i know i'm a broken record at this point BUT their codependency and independency, the balance between grit and gross and sweet and off-kilter, sweat, tears, blood and some ice-cream on the side, begrudging and thankful - it seems stupid to me too because i know most people just see these comic relief mad max rip-offs but every time i think about their dynamics and some of the stories i've read in fan works it grips my heart and i think "holy shit i love them so. much." - i'm still not done drawing them by a long shot i think, it just feels like i've reached a dead end of some kind? because with little time at hand and even less energy left i struggle to form my thoughts into drawings. but i'm working on that. i'm working on doing some kind of tribute, like a zine with my art from 2016 up to today and some more stuff i've yet to draw (had this idea since 2022 and i've just recently learned SO MUCH about zine making and printing and i finally started putting the first files together). because that feels right, like a proper "here look at this i hope this explains why i love them so much")