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[wosofutbolfan]

I Would Climb Every Mountain With You

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

14K of fluff and fun

For those interested this is the song that played in my head throughout the inception of this one;

You shoved the last of your gear into your duffel, relishing in the zipping sound that pierced the silence of your sparsely occupied apartment.

This was a quick turn around, even for you.

You were back for your nans 82nd birthday which was in a few days and to catch up with your friends and family.

You’d barely been back on UK soil for 18 hours, in your Cumbria flat for only 15, when you got a call offering you a trip as a tour guide in the Pirineus Aragonese, otherwise known as the Spanish Pyrenees, for 3 nights.

Usually you’d ignore such a request at this point in your career but for a 3 day trip there were more 0’s than you would expect on the pay packet. Too many to refuse.

You were one of the best in the business, so trampling around the low level bases of a fairley commercial mountain range was a bit novice for you.

These days you find yourself in the thin air over 6000 meters, or in a remote rainforest, or trekking through the Sahara, guiding millionaire white men who made the move from being armchair adventurers to have-a-go adventurers in the very safe manner which your expertise offered.

You did it because those IT consultants, those bankers, those surgeons, paid well.

Very well. 

Well enough to fund your explorations.

To go to those heights that really drove you. 8000 metres. The death zone. Where the air was so thin you couldn't stay long or your brain would lose oxygen.

Or the amazon, making contact with a tribe to warn them of encroaching foresters.

Or to the arctic. To witness the last of the planet untouched by man.

As you shut the door behind yourself, barely even checking it locked. Fuck. You thought, as you downloaded the boarding pass sent to you. 

Your mum was going to kill you. 

But god. You loved the outdoors. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I hate the outdoors!”

Alexia growled smacking a hand against her forearm, trying in vain to swat the midgie which was trying to make her blood its next meal. She hated the high pitched zoom that travelled past her ear as it moved back through the mini bus to try and find a more peaceful meal out of one of her teammates.

“We know Ale…” a tired voice from next to her groaned “you’ve mentioned it once, twice. Maybe a thousand times.” Mapi rolled her head off of her girlfriend's shoulder where she had been in a light doze. Interrupted by her captain's loud complaints.

“I’m just saying.” Alexia continued to grumble “I don’t know why Jona is making us do this. Team Bonding? We are a very bonded team already! I make you all pancakes on sundays!”

Mapi rolled her eyes at the blondes protests. She’d heard all of this before since Jona had announced the 3 day team bonding trip at the start of pre season. She could recite Alexia's complaints by heart.

“I’m excited.” She shrugs, eyes cast over her girlfriend who had moved to nuzzle into her side.

“Traidora” The captain replies, eyes gazing out of the fast moving countryside out of the window. She felt worse and worse the more they moved away from the city into the endless empty space around her. She could feel civilization leaving her grasp as the bars of signal went down on her phone. “You’ve been brainwashed by your nordic girlfriend.” She lets out simply. Ignoring Mapis' offended scoff and dodging the light slap sent her way.

“Behave Maria.” A tired voice let out, without opening their eyes. Like a school child who had been told off, the tiny defender backs down and settles back into her girlfriend's shoulder. And if Alexia sticks her tongue out at her like a toddler then well. Who can provide it?

“God” she thought to herself as she settled her head back against the vibrating glass, starting a mental countdown of when she would return to her city center apartment  “I hate the outdoors.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I probably should buy new walking boots.” You thought to yourself as you clambered out of the minibus which dropped you and your small team at the muster point. Your boots fit like a glove but they did look a little worse for wear. All scratched and battered. The green laces prominent against the dark brown leather.

Who are you kidding? You knew you would never buy new boots.

You could still make out the scratch deep in the leather where you hooked your foot behind a rock as you careered down a shale summit when you were still a novice. A mark against the toe protection where a dog in the Andes got a bit too friendly and attacked your foot. Nah. These boots were the closest friend you had.

A rumble of a car cut against the silence of the mountains around you and you could just make up another mini bus trudging up the mountain pass from the elevation you stood at. You had a few minutes before the clients arrived.

“Who ‘av we got then?” you asked and you turned to face Rio, your long-time guiding partner when you were in this part of the world.

Full name Mario he was a kind man in his 40’s who lived for bad 80s music and loved his kids more than you thought any human was capable of love.

“I am unsure, Mi Amiga. I just got the paperwork that told me it was a team of 23 ladies. They assured the operator we have no fitness issues. They have translators in the group, multiple languages so we're best sticking with English. I have all the health forms here, everything looks good. Some dietary requirements but nothing we can’t handle”

Huh. A weird group. 23 fit women with translators in the group? Weird.

“Women. Rio. We prefer the term women.” you gibe him, “Urght. 23 women is a lot. I hope it isn’t a hen party. Penis straws aren’t my thing, if you know what I mean.” you knock your elbow into his ribs and let out a cackle. 

You were very very gay. A fact that wasn’t lost on Mario as he had unfortunately been witness to more than a few hook ups after expeditions over the years. 

“Si, I know what you mean, that rock over there knows what you mean, tu idiota.” he replied, rolling his eyes and moving to help the team with the checklist of essentials.

Your knee deep in gas canisters and spare tent pegs by the time the mini bus holding the clients arrives.

You untangle yourself with a sheepish smile to Rio as you move to meet the van and he moves to tidy your mess. He’s the practical guy. You’re the nice guy. It's your job to go and meet the clients and explain the expedition and answer any questions.

“Hol… Holy shit.” you start. What you intended to be a lively welcome in your best spanish quickly got lost on your tongue with each woman who exited the van.

Fucking hell. These women were gorgeous.

Specifically the last women to emerge from the van. All blonde hair and hazel eyes.

And tattoos.

And fit.

And tall.

And. Not to be a dick about it. Very gay.

You shake yourself out of it. Come on. Be professional. Stop being a gross guy. You scold yourself.

You turn to Rio who’s finishing up with all the kit who laughs at your expression; “Not a hen party then?”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“... so on day two we will reach the gorge, follow the treeline across the ridge, through the forest finding some good places to camp and then finally end in Arén. Where your bus will meet you and take you back to Barcelona. Is that good?”

The group lets out a murmur of agreement and an enthusiastic “Fantastic!” is heard above everyone else and Alexia rolls her eyes.

“Mapi, you really need to control your girlfriend. If you're not careful she's going to run away into the wilderness.” she mutters to her best friend.

“Shut up Ale.” Mapi hisses back, but it isn’t missed by Alexia how Mapi slowly inches herself closer to her girlfriend and hooks her fingers through the waist strap of her backpack, as though physically stopping her from leaving her, renaming herself Hedi and living the rest of her days in the mountains.

Alexia lets out a scoff of laughter, which was louder than she intended.

“There, at the back. A question?” 

Suddenly Alexia finds the eyes of the team watching her, most with a glint in their eyes as they were all victims to her complaining over the last few weeks.

Listen. She's not bothered she has 22 sets of eyes on her.

She's used to it. Especially these eyes. She's their captain.

That's not what causes her mouth to dry up and her pulse to race.

No. That's you.

For the first time since getting out of the van Alexia looks up and sees your gaze directed straight at her. Holy shit. You were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

And she had seen a lot of women.

But you, standing there in your khaki shorts, simple vest top, hair tied up and a bandana and dirty old boots took her breath away.

You gave off an aura of cool. Dark raybans perched on your face and muscles rippling against a backpack bigger than you.

You were the coolest woman she had ever seen.

“Sorry, the paperwork said everyone would understand English, or had access to a translator. That's my fault. Can someone translate? Or I can spe-” 

A ripple of laughter goes through the group but its Mapis cough and small kick that pulls Alexia out of her stupor.

“Vaya, I understand, lo siento, no. No questions here. Just. So excited to get going! Vamos Amigas!” Alexia cheerfully ended, ignoring her teammates' confused faces at her complete 180 as she hoisted her backpack on and threw you her most dashing smile.

Maybe she could make something out of this weekend after all.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You threw a smile past 3 of your group on the trail as you made your way down the mountain.

“Hola chica’s” you let out cheekily, throwing a wink at the three, who had quickly become your favourites.

You loved love and you could see how much the small brunette you learned was Mapi hung onto every action of her girlfriend. Ingrid's enthusiasm was one you shared, born of a childhood spent outside and Alexia.

Well.

Alexia was a mystery. Quick to smile and eager to please but there was something there. So confident and yet you could make out the blush on her cheeks at your innocent wink.

And god. Was she gorgeous. Chiselled and…stay professional!

They made a very likable trio and you had been spending most of your hike with them so far but you had to share the love and you left them behind a few miles ago to go scout out the front of the pack.

This was how you and Mario worked. You would take it in turns to be at the front and the back of the group - keeping everyone together and pacing everyone so they remained in a close-enough group to manage safely whilst not hampering or rushing anyone.

You’ve got to admit.

These girls were fit.

Even you found it difficult to keep up.

Though, to be fair you had to hike double with the overlapping on the hillside and your pack that weighed about 6 extra stone.

Still, you wouldn’t swap this job for the world. You thought to yourself as you spied the last team member a few metres down the mountain you halted and waited for them to reach you. Feigning that you were just taking in the view so that they didn’t feel bad about being at the back.

Someone has to be.

“Don’t worry about it” you let out easily at Pina and Patris apologies, “You guys are doing it the right way. Take in the view! We’re hours ahead of schedule”.

And you were. These girls really were athletic. You really should find out what the hell they do for a living.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Capi, what are you doing now?” Mapi grumbled as Alexia came to a stop.

She tosses her bag down and rummages through it, picking out a small bottle and spraying herself quickly before hiding it away.

“Vamos Mapi, you go up. I’m just… taking  a moment.”

“No problem Alexia, we can wait with you. Is it your knee? Are you okay?” Ingrid's kind voice asked, her brows furrowed in concern for her captain.

“Si Si I am good it’s just…”

“Ah! I know!” Mapi exclaimed “the sudden buen humor. The changes in pace. I can’t believe it! Capi has a crush! With the mountain boss lady! Wait… is that perfu…”

Mapi is quickly silenced by Alexia's large hand covering her mouth as the captain looks down the mountainside in concern. You’ve passed them and are out of view and she hopes out of earshot.

“Callate idiota” she hisses “Ew!” She pulls her hand away and wipes it on her shorts whilst Mapi grins cheerfully, her tongue safely back in her mouth.

“I do not! It is good to feel nice, that's all. I am just taking a moment. Please. Ingrid. Take her away before I push her down the mountain.”

Alexia pleads to the Norwegian, who is more than happy to grab her girlfriend's hand and continue the best weekend of her life, explaining all about the different types of trees they would see as Mapi hangs on her every word.

Alexia isn’t alone for long until she hears your peel of laughter as you round the corner with the two meneces that were Patri and Pina.

You say something that makes Patri laugh and she shoves you playfully to one side which makes Alexia's heart jump into her throat.

“Ay! Idiota! Do not push her! She could slip!”

She takes your bark of a laugh and the soft look you give her happily, embracing the warm feeling that it makes in her chest.

“Sorry Capi.” Patri mocks, saluting with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Alright. That's it. What the hell do you guys do? You’re all mega fit, speak about 15 different languages and now you’re introducing this insane leadership structure. Is this some sort of new-age google thing?” you ask, incredulously, hands on your hips and question in your eyes.

There's a moment of silence and then all three of them burst into laughter at the same time.

“What? What did I say?” you ask. “What do you think we do jefa de montana?” Pina asks, as you all continue your hike upwards.

“I don’t know… really rich estate agents?” you ask, prompting more laughter from the group. “Erm… oh! I know! You’re all personal trainers in old folks homes but you’re taking it really, really seriously? OH! I know” You’re all spies!” you exclaim, just to hear Alexias laugh again. Which you are rewarded with.

“No tonta. We are all footballers. We are the Barcelona Femini first team!” Alexia lets out, arms wide, all three of them pausing with expectant looks on their faces in your direction.

“Ah. Makes sense. Cool.” you let out, smile their way and continue leading them up the mountain.

You sense you’re walking alone all of a sudden and turn to see all three of them standing like fishes, mouths open staring incredulously at you.

“What? What's wrong?” you call down.

“Footballers, you strange mountain woman! It’s more than cool! We’re the best in the world!” Patri lets out, incredulously.

It’s your turn to bark out a laugh. “Ha! Sorry chicas, I promise I will be suitably impressed once we reach camp” you wink as you all continue upwards, a peaceful silence settling over the three of you. 

“I’m more of a rugby person anyway.” you break the silence.

A moment of pregnant pause.

“Push her off the mountain Patri.” Alexia orders, jovially. “On it Cap!”

You cackle as you run away from the three chasing footballers and the only thought that is running through your head is, ‘God, Alexia smells good.’

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ella es tan bonita” Alexia mutters to herself, as she watches you from across the clearing, after helpfully dumping herself outside of Ingrid and Mapis tent as Ingrid sets the whole thing up as well as going behind Mapi and re-clipping all of the clips and double checking all the poles, whilst ensuring Mapi doesn't see her.

“Ay, Capi. Stop creeping and come help. Or set up your tent, you need somewhere to sleep.” “I will, I will” Mapi takes a seat next to her captain who doesn't look like she's moving from her perch anytime soon.

“So, you’re in love, si?”

“Si…” Alexia lets out dreamily, “Wait. No! Shut up, I didn't say that.”

Mapi opens her mouth, ready to tease the hell out of her captain before… “We heard nothing Ale, don’t worry” Ingrid lets out from inside the tent. Mapis' mouth closes with a small frown at the idea of her teasing ammo being taken away from her.

“She is so cool though.” Alexia continues, “You know, she’s been to the arctic three times? And climbed 4 of the worlds highest summits. 4 of them? One on her own!”

“We know Ale,” Ingird responded, kindly, appearing from the tent “You’ve told us a dozen times. Come on. Let’s see if she needs help with anything.”

Alexia moves as though she’s just intercepted a stray pass in front of goal.

Rapid.

You stand, ignoring the aching in your back as you put the finishing touches onto the makeshift fire pit.

You’d spent the last hour scouting and setting up camp for the group. Mario was off helping some of the girls set up their tents for the night.

You both preferred the ease of a hammock slung between two trees with a mosquito net being the only thing between you and the stars. That meant you were both able to carry more provisions for the group and set up your camps quickly before moving on to help the clients.

“Do you need any help at all?” you hear accented english, you turn and Ingrid offers you a kind smile. “No, no you’re good guys, make yourselves at home.” you gesture to the logs that had been moved into a semi circle around the firepit. Logs collected by Mario waiting for the night to arrive.

You're on your knees setting some water to boil as you hear an annoyed grumble and a slap of skin “mierda!”. You turn on your knees and find yourself faced with Alexia, sitting on a log near you losing a one woman battle against a thousand midges.

“You must taste nice.” It takes you a minute of the blonde blushing and red face to realise what you’ve said. You stand and move to sit next to her “No! No sorry I didn’t mean… I mean…” you take a deep breath and…. “You smell nice.”

Mapis' bark of laughter makes you roll your eyes good naturedly, the blonde next to you still looking at you somewhat star struck.

“No really Alexia…” you move closer and breathe the blonde in, she smells sweet, floral…. Stay professional! 

“That’s why they’re attracted to you. Your smell, and…” you move slowly, gently and take her arm in yours… “some people just react to the bites more, this looks like it could become sore.” you brush over a large, reddening bite on her inner arm.

Alexia, meanwhile, is acting as though your touch isn’t setting her blood on fire. She’s apparently chosen to hide this by just staring at you, wide eyed. Another midgey lands on her skin and you feel her arm tense in your grasp as she moves to swat it but you hold firm.

“Ey ey, there's more of them than you and we’re in their territory. Take only pictures, leave only footprints and kill…”

“Nothing but time!” Ingrid jumps in, excitedly, “Yes Ing, that's the one” you reply, as Ingrid sits proudly. “Mascota del maestro.” Mapi teases her.

You move your attention back to Alexia, “Ale, you should go and wash off, there will be a stream over there, looking at the treeline and the game track marks. It’ll take the sweetness from your skin. It will help, I have some antihistamine you should take when you get back and I'm sure I smelt some wild garlic growing just as we entered the clearing. It acts as a repellent, I will go forage some and add it to your meal tonight. It will help for the rest of the trip.”

“No, I’ll be fi….” you move to stand, gathering your wilderness knife and attaching it to your hip. “I wasn’t asking Alexia. I’m in charge here, Captain. I know what I’m doing, now go. Please”

Alexia isn’t told what to do often.

Yes she has a coach and she has trainers but she is the captain.

The expert.

But your kind and gentle nature just became firm in front of her eyes. This was your world and it was clear you knew what you were doing in it. She felt like a puppet as she stood obediently and made her way to the stream.

As she stood there, in only her underwear in the cold water, listening to the distant laughter of her teammates and overlooking the most beautiful blue-green water of the gorge beneath the mountain side. She kind of understood this whole outdoorsy thing. It was peaceful, she could hear her thoughts. Alexia was never alone. There was always someone fighting for her attention, needing something from her.

But here, she felt like her mind had gone quiet. And she could think. And breathe.

She was feeling somewhat light and philosophical by the time she made it back to the firepit.

You look up from your pan and see the silhouette of the tall Barcelona captain making their way over. She looks lighter somehow. Hair hanging limp softens her features and her face is bare, making her look somehow more beautiful. You shake yourself out of your thoughts and start to plate up the meal for everyone. 

You feel Mario next to you; “Ay, smells goods, some of your best work Mi Amiga.” He mutters to you, shoving your shoulder gently, “ooh we’ve got fancy with the spices, si? Someone to impress” he obnoxiously wiggles his eyebrows at you and you very maturely, in your opinion, ignore his teasing in order to stir some sauteed garlic through one of the bowls. “Go give that to your apalastar. I’ll hand out the rest” he orders.

“I don’t have a crush” you hiss, even as you gather two bowls and make your way over to the blonde. Alexai looks up as you stand above her, seemingly having interrupted her thoughts. You offer a smile as you pass her a steaming metal bowl.

“Chicken and rice” you state, as you take a seat next to her, “with extra garlic, as promised” you smile as you start to shovel food into your mouth.

You take a moment with your eyes closed like you do before every meal before tucking in. Mario tells you that you eat like a wild dog who’s just found an open trash can, you don’t care, you love your food, especially after a long hike day cooked over an open fire. 

“How do you know these things?” Alexia asks. You make the universal noise of; ‘huh’? And eye her curiously. “The garlic. The stream. How do you know?”

“Ah, it’s my life.” you reply, “I grew up in rural England. Me and my brother would go for hikes for days at a time. Not much else to do. I learnt how to read the land. You get used to it…” a beat of silence, “the solution is always around.”

Now it's Alexia's turn to let out a confused grunt, around a mouthful of chicken.

“In nature. Nature always provides what you need. If it creates a problem, it will create a solution. That's why I love it so much. Sunburn? Mud is the best sunscreen money can’t buy. Stuck in a monsoon? You’ll be saved by a cave to shelter in that's carved by the same weather that's trying to kill you. Mosquitos making you their next meal? Garlic will grow and act as a repellent. You just need to learn to read the signs. That's why I love it so much.”

Alexia grows quiet, and you can’t quite place the look she's giving you. 

It’s open, and you feel maybe you shared too much so revert back to what you know. As you scrape the metal bowl clean you pull out a blister pack and present them to the footballer. “Sometimes, though, the answer is in a pharmacy in Perpignan” you grin cheekily and enjoy the blondes blush and laugh as she pops an antihistamine and swallows it. 

You root into your pocket and pull out some bite cream.

“May I?” you gesture towards her arm as you see she has finished her meal. She nods and presents you with her arm where an angry looking lump had formed. You grunt in sympathy as you carefully apply the cream. Making soothing motions with your thumb making sure the cream is absorbed fully.

You struggle to remain professional with the blondes soft skin under your hands. And you struggle to pull them away. You don’t know what comes over you as you gently blow on the bite to sooth it. You don’t think you’re alone in  your feelings as you hear a sharp intake of breath from the blonde, and feel goosebumps rise under your fingertips.

“I’m sorry, It helps to cool the area, it’s feeling a little hot” as you pull your hands away.

Alexia seems to be in a daze but you catch her eye as she lets out “eres tan caliente”. It’s quiet, under her breath and you see her eyes widen as she realises she's spoken aloud. “Pardon?” you ask, just to make sure you heard her.

“Oh sorry, nada, nothing. Thank you for your help. It feels better already. You’re really good at this.”

You smile at her happily, a proud buzz in your stomach at making her feel better, you're interrupted from any reply by Mario shouting your name across the fire pit. And that's when you realise you have 22 other clients all around, and you had kind of left your colleague to deal with them all.

Which makes it easier for him to convince you to fulfil his request. He always does this. And he knows you hate it. As he shakes the ukulele he’s carried up a frigging mountain at you. You can’t really deny him.

“Come on chica! Show the girls what you can do!”, you take it from him as you roll your eyes good naturedly as you settle back down, closer, somehow to Alexia, you can feel your thigh touch hers as you try to pretend that is isn't setting your world on fire. 

Alexia pretends that she can’t see Mapis' eyes light up and eyebrows wiggle at her from across the campfire.

As the stars start to make an appearance you serenade the group with campfire songs you grew up on, some songs that Mario sings along with you, you strum as Mapi excitingly dances around the campfire and you continue into the night as your fingers start to ache. Lucy even teaches you the Barcelona anthem, which you murder, but it's worth it to see the laugh in Alexia's eyes.

You don’t mind making a fool of yourself if that's your result.

You feel the blonde slump more into you as the night goes on, and you feel the tension between you both increase. However, when you look across to catch her eyes you see that she's practically asleep as she sits.

“Hey, Ale” you mutter as Pina takes a turn on your ukulele, rousing her from her light sleep, “come on, the tablets can make you drowsy. You need to get to sleep.”

“Oh, no. But I don’t want to miss anything.” she mutters, cutely, you don’t think she’d be so open unless she was completely exhausted. “And I need to set my tent up.”

“Don’t worry, I set it up for you when you were in the stream.” you respond, easily, and there's that look again, the one that puts your stomach into knots and makes you unsure of what you’ve said, so you continue, “It’s next to Mapi and Ingrids. I thought you’d want their protection from the bears.”

“Bears?!” she exclaims, which brings everyone's attention to the both of you, 23 worried looking footballers now looking in your direction as you bark out a laugh.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” you respond, to all of them, hands raised as a sign of peace. They settle down… “well actually I’m not, but what did you think the singing was for!”

Mario is the only one that snorts out a laugh.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexia wakes up hot.

And thirsty.

She opens her eyes and takes a moment to remember herself and where she is. But as she hears the light chatter and banging of pans outside it comes back to her.

Last night, sitting around the firepit by your side, one she had gotten over how hot the vision of you playing the instrument was, she was being lulled into a drowsy state by your gentle singing, the stars shining above and the warmth of your body by her side.

She remembers your hands on her skin, causing goosebumps and her stomach to flutter, somehow those hands in the middle of a literal mountain range made her feel more safe than the most experienced medical professional in the most high-tech sports facilities ever could.

She remembers finding her tent from where you had set it up. Citronella candle burning outside keeping the bugs away, everything zipped up safely, and then seeing how you had set the inside up.

Sleeping bag open and inviting, all her bags set neatly, essentials on top of her bag, hiking boots sitting on pegs she definitely did not bring to air them and stop any creepies crawling into them. Water next to her cot.

God. She was in trouble.

As she crawled into the porch area she found a small metal bowl with what looked like a cut up cactus in it, goop oozing from it. She picked the bowl up and made her way over to her best friends, who were tucking into a breakfast of granola and fruits out of similar bowls to that in her hand.

“Hey, Ingrid. Nature lover. What's this?” She holds the bowl up with a curious eyebrow.

“I think you mean Hola Ingrid, How are you this morning?” Mapi grumbles, whilst her girlfriend rubs her knee and shushes her kindly, Alexia looks at her expectantly.

She takes the bowl and a smile overtakes her face, “This is Aloe, Ale.” “Aloe Ale? Are you making fun of me?” Ingrid smiles again, “No, Ale, it's Aloe Vera, it's the gel from the Aloe Vera plant. It's got healing properties and… good for sunburn, reducing irritation and swelling, some may say good for insect bites?”

“Oh, well thank you then Ingrid, that's really kind.” Alexia hums, happily.

“Ale. I love you, but I didn’t collect this.” Ingrid smiles, Mapi looks on in glee and not-at-all subtly points in your direction.

“It was the jefa de montana!” She whisper-shouts, “I woke up early and saw her coming back with that cool knife of hers… Hey… Ingri…?”

“No Maria. You cannot have a knife.” Ingrid lets out, not looking away from her breakfast.

Alexis misses Mapis' sulk, as well as the loving bickering between her two best friends, because she is distracted by you, sitting across the camp entertaining Jana and Vicky. Seemingly a boundless source of energy and knowledge. You must feel someone's eyes on you because you look up and it feels like you look directly into Alexia's soul.

She holds the bowl up with a shy smile and mouths thank you, and she re-iterates to herself how well as truely fucked she is as as you send a wink her way which makes her knees weak.

“Oh estoy jodida”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You smile as you waved the girls off from camp, it being your turn to stay behind and finish packing up the provisions and bringing up the rear of the group. With Mario leading the charge down into the gorge where you would make camp tonight.

It was your favourite day of the trek today, and you were excited about the girls reaction to the camp set up this evening. You expect that you would get there earlier than expected with these super-fit professional athletes, which would give you all more time to explore the lake. You found yourself looking forward to a certain blonde's face as she took in the view, the mountain above reflecting into the water.

It really was beautiful.

You knew yourself very well. That's the thing about being an explorer. You have to know yourself, you spend a lot of time alone and with your thoughts. You need to know your limits. Assess your feelings. Is this the half-way mark of my endurance? Do I need to turn around now? It was important for survival.

And with everything you've done you're not sure you’ll survive the next two days with Alexia Putellas.

You found her disarming. She was stoic but kind. She was serious but hilarious. Strong but vulnerable. She was stern but looked at you so softly it made your heart melt. 

She was a woman of contradictions in the best way. 

And you wanted to wrap your arms around her and keep her safe. Yeah, it was your job to keep everyone on this trip safe. But it wasn't your job that made you trek back 2 miles this morning to harvest the Aloe you saw yesterday. Or take an extra 20 minutes to set her tent up making sure she had everything that she didn't know she needed.

You knew why you did it, but you don’t think you were ready to be that honest with yourself yet.

You finished packing up camp and making sure there was no trace of your group and then continued along the trail. You thought you had a few hours before you encountered any of the famous fucking footballers you were guiding on account of most of them all being fucking olympians, but it hadn’t been more than 90 minutes before you spotted the same person who was clouding all of your thoughts.

“Hola Capi!” you shouted down the trail below you, you didn’t want to spook her and get to close as she looked lost in her thoughts, gazing down to the lake below.

“Ah, Hola Jefa de montaña” a smile overtaking her features. “I didn't expect you to be at the back, Capi” you tease, nudging her and continuing along at her side, “the young’uns making you feel old?”

There's that laugh again. The one that seems to fill a hole in your heart.

“no por supuesto que no, solo soy….” she trails off as you look at her curiously.

“Ah, lo siento, you don’t speak spanish, I’m just taking my time, enjoying the view, no rush, si?” she asks you, completely misinterpreting your look. You go to correct her but she speaks before you have a chance,

“So, where's your favourite exploration been?” and if there's anything that you can yap on about. It's your adventures.

Alexia loves the way your face lights up, loves the way that your whole body thrums with excitement. The way you describe the sights, sounds, smells of your travels. Her heart drops when you tell tall tales of alligator attacks in the south american swamps, her laughter bubbles as you tell her about accidental orders of bizarre and unusual foods in china, she blushes as you describe being run out a village in mongolia for sleeping with the mayor's wife (completely accidental of course).

You tell a story with your whole body, arms flailing and actions where appropriate. The time flies and the environment around Alexia is lost to the beauty she finds in your excitement.

You finally pause for breath and the silence makes you realise how long you have been speaking for.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I haven't stopped talking - ple…”

“Do not apologise” Alexia interrupts, “I like to hear you speak, your stories are so…” she struggles to find the word and takes a moment “...colourful. And exciting.” she snaps her fingers, happy with herself. 

“Exciting, me? Maybe. You though. Football, huh? That must be amazing. Free to travel the world… all of your adoring fans, huh?” you wiggle your brows and nudge her again, but her coy smile doesn’t appear like you expected it to.

She grows quiet, hand playing with the long grass as you both stroll by.

“Ah. Maybe. I thought so, but now… I’m thinking, maybe I am not so free?” she poses it as a question, and eyes lift to your face, and then her surroundings.

“I love football. Football is my life. But the other things… ah. I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I could walk down to mi Mamis without wearing a cap, or a hood. Just… go. You know?”

You do know. You couldn’t imagine such restrictions. Your spirit is a free one. And Alexia seems caged. Caged and wanting to break free.

“I get it, Ale.” your use of her name brings a blush to her face. And a smile you want to keep there. “Tell me about football.” you request, simply.

“What about it? It is the most beautiful game in the world! You are English, a good football nation, it’s coming home? No?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” you do. “I’m from the countryside. Football is played in cities. I cannot think of any football team not named after a City.”

“Football is played everywhere! It's the game of the Earth”

“Is it?” you ask, “tell me.” you request again.

And off she goes, she tells you how she loves her team, the fans, Barca, how the game brought her close to her father and she feels closer to him as she continues to play. You enjoy the excitement in her voice as she makes you both stop as she uses a stick to explain the offside rule. You force a cereal bar into her hand and make sure you both drink water as you go. Seamlessly, as she continues to talk about her life's passion.

Before you know it you notice the placement of the sun and realise you have nearly completed the miles for the day. You are shocked that you haven’t run into any of her teammates, though you suppose, you have both been walking slower as you chatted.

Though, that does mean you have left Mario with 23 clients. Fuck you owe him.

“The way you talk about it, It does sound like a beautiful game, capi.” you summarise, as she finishes telling you about the football camps for underprivileged kids she visits.

She pauses and looks into your face. The moment grows less jovial than the whole day had been and you hear Alexia whisper, “Eres hermosa”. “Huh?” you let out, surprised. “Oh, da nada, nothing. Sorry, I don’t usually speak too much English…”

“Ah, Capi!” you hear a third voice, raised across the clearing you had just entered, a canopy of trees above and now you are at the lake shore.

You are both shaken out of your trances as you realise you have made camp, and by the looks of it, the rest of the group had been here for a while. God, you really did owe Mario.

“Ah, chica!” you hear Marios best as he makes his way towards you, “you left me! These girls, they are loco!” you laugh as you see the sweat beading across his brow and his face still red, “the walk and walk and walk, they walk so quick!” 

Jana now makes her way over, taking Alexias backpack from her shoulders,

“We walk quickly because Capi told us whoever won she would give first dibs on shower privileges all seaso….” Jana is silenced by Alexia, who shoves her hand over her mouth. “Ay, Jana, she’s an iditoto, doesn’t know what she's talking about, Si. Vamos, Jana. You can help me set my tent up.”

Jana is practically dragged away as you focus your attention again on Mario.

“lo siento mi amigo,” you tell him, “I didn’t mean to.. I think I just got carried away…” you eyes follow the tall blonde as she makes her way across camp, Jana having abandoned her on route.

“Da nada my friend. I have not seen you like this before…” he smiles at you. “I think she is good for you.”

“Oh stop Mario. You know me. I can’t.”

“You won’t. That is different to you can’t. And I notice you do not deny, now, vamos, help me anti-bear this place.”

Your next hour is spent helping Mario set up camp, you're close to a huge water source now, and whilst bears will only come looking for food you need to take extra steps to not spook your clients, you keep the provisions away from camp, high in trees, you sprinkle ash from the fire around and you place dry leaves and twigs around, you and Mario are light sleepers, any visitor to camp will make you up.

Alexia has been abandoned by her team. “Team building, sure… you all have fun guys, I’ll be here…” she mumbles to herself as she struggles to feed the poles of her tent through the holes in the canvas. She takes a look up and sees you, lifting logs for the fire. All short, shorts and rippling muscles. Those same damn old boots on your feet so sexily rugged.

She gets lost in her thoughts, images swimming around her mind of making you sweat for different reasons, imagining being stood above you as you drop to your knees in front of her as she gathers your hair in her hand….

“Do you need me to help you with your pole?” you ask. SNAP.  Huh? Alexia looks up from the daydream she had embarrassingly got lost in. Ignoring the heat between her legs. She looks up, flustered.

“Q..Que?” she asks you, she looks down and sees the metal pole she was trying to thread through in two pieces in her hands.

“Oh… oops.” she continues. “Oh Ale… that's the centerframe pole. That's keeping the roof over your head. I can try to patch it up with some twine… but I’m not sure it will hold.” you tell her, examining the two pieces in her hands.

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t know what happened there.” Alexia tries to distract to get out of this awkward situation. “No problem, I will share it with Ingrid and Mapi. They won’t mind.”

You cast your eyes over to where Ingrid was walking into the lake in a two piece swimsuit, Mapi watching from the fire and almost setting her boot on fire as she paid no attention to her surroundings. You think they may mind.

“Okay Ale.” she knows her friends better than you, you suppose. “Now come, come look at this view.”

You lead her to the lakeside where most of the girls were settled, and you explain to the group some of the geography of how the gorge and lake was formed. And, to be fair to them, most of them did pretend to care. But you could tell they were just dying to jump in.

“Go on then Chicas! A few hours til dinner. Go have fun!”

The cheer that the group let out made you laugh, so did watching them as they scrambled over each other in the water as you and Mario made dinner.  Lucy having produced a small ball from somewhere they all start to play in the water. Somehow, you felt like you were all of a sudden guiding 12 year old boys.

You could make Ale out, in the middle of the fray, contemplative nature fully unleashed as she laughed and played around with her teammates. You loved seeing her so free and open. Especially after your chat today.

You find yourself at the campfire again, plating up dinner for the group and you see an open space next to Alexia.

You make your way over but before you get there the seat is taken by Vicky, you miss the scowl that takes over Ales face as she slaps the back of her younger teammate's head.

“That space was being saved!” she sulks, watching as you change direction and settle yourself next to Lucy. Quickly being drawn into conversation. “Yeah, Lopez, that's her girlfriend's seat!” Mapi sniggers.

“Lo Siento Ale, I didn’t know.” Vicky looks so apologetic that it tugs on Alexia's heart as her gaze softens and she pulls her head into her chest in an aggressive hug, she kisses her hair. “está bien pequeña”.

After another night of singing, card games and this time smores you get the attention of the group; “Okay girls, serious now. We are in bear country.” a gasp goes through the group, “Me and Mario have made the camp safe but there's always a chance a bear may wander into camp. I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m saying this to keep you safe.” you point down to your calf, where a slither of scar tissue can be seen,

“I’ve been on the wrong side of a hungry brown bear before. They are good creatures, just hungry. They hate humans. If, and this is a big if a bear wanders into camp you need to just make noise. That will be enough to scare it away and bring mine and Marios attention to you. Si?”

The group is quiet for a moment until Ingrid lets out an affirmative noise.

You think your little bear chat scared them because quickly it's just you, Mario and Alexia who remain awake, as Mario tells stories of his family and the mischief his children get up to. He lets out a big yawn.

“Mario, you can get to bed. I will sort this” you point down to the dying embers of the fire. “I owe you after today.” “You do” he smiles as he stands up and makes his way across camp to his hammock.

“I will go to bed also.” Alexia stands, and you offer to walk her to Mapi and Ingrids tent with your headlamp so she doesn't trip on any ropes.

That smile again. She nods and as you move closer to the tent you hear a noise. You put your hand on her arm to stop her, and cock your head to one side, that won’t be a bear, surely?

There! That noise again. Louder this time. Wait. A… groan?

“Oh my god.” Alexia whispers, a laugh in her voice. You're confused and then you hear it again, this time, it sounds suspiciously like a groan of a name. Maria. Oh. Oh for god's sake. 

“Maybe they took the ‘make noise’ instruction too seriously, si?” Alexia giggles into your ear. This makes you bark out a laugh, quickly hidden behind her hand that raises itself to your mouth.

“Qué fue eso” you hear from the tent. For some reason, this fills both you and Alexia with childish excitement and glee. As you pull her hand with you as you sprint away from the tent as though you are 9 in a school yard and have just been told someone has cooties.

You guide her to your hammock, and stand there, giggles subsiding, suddenly unsure of what to do.

“Maybe they forgot you were in with them tonight?” you ask the blonde, who shrugs and replies “with those two I don’t think much can stop them.” this makes you laugh lightly and then a beat of silence.

“Erm, you can take my hammock, sorry, some people don't find it comfortable but it keeps the mosquitos away and I can set up a roll matt by the fire.”

“No.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make yo…”

“No, I mean. I am not kicking you out of your bed. I will go on the matt… “

“No Ale. With your blood you’ll be eaten alive without a net… maybe..”

“Si?”

“Maybe we can share? The hammock is huge and it's normal for people to share in survival situations, you know, to keep warm and stuff.”

“Creo que tener calor será el problema.” “Pardon?” “Ah, nothing, I just said yes we should share.”

This keeps happening, and you think it's hilarious, and you let out a coy smile, “roomies?” you ask, Alexia matches your smile as she nods.

You let her get settled into the hammock in her sleeping bag before you pull it wider, there being plenty of material to hold you both comfortably. You forgot, the design of the hammock encapsulates you both, the canvas bowing upwards forcing you both into the middle, and creating a shield around you, mosquito net a curtain around you.

Suddenly, all your senses are full of Alexia. Alexia beneath you and stars above you. God. Have you died and gone to heaven? No. In heaven you wouldn't be separated by 2 layers of polyester sleeping bags.

You shuffle around to try to take some of your weight off her and lie by her side. “Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a type of embarrassment you never do when usually sharing this space, probably with another explorer, usually in some death defying situation. 

You don’t know how this perfectly safe encounter makes you more nervous than those. In those situations, you don’t have time to be embarrassed by how heavy your weight is on the other person, how it's been 2 days since your last shower…. How your breath must smell.

“Estas bien” she lets out, softly, and those two words calm you more than a half a bar of phone signal after days of trekking in the Atlas Mountains ever could. One of her arms envelopes your shoulder and your head settles onto her chest. “Lo siento my arm is in the way…”

“Estas bien.” you reply, softly.

Alexia has never been more comfortable in her entire life. The warmth of your body weighs on hers, the smell of you infiltrating her senses, the stars above and the gentle sway of the hammock.

Sleep is already dragging her as you whisper, “buenas noches que duermas bien ale”. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexia wakes to the feeling of movement on her chest. Before she opens her eyes she takes stock of her body. Her arms now fully wrapped around you. Hands tangled in your hair. You burrowed into her chest. She is warm.

She is happy.

She knows you're awake. But there's no springing apart in embarrassment. God no. She's not ashamed. She wants this moment to last forever.

But it can’t.

You groan in her arms as you both hear Mario clanking pans to start breakfast. You pop your head up like a meerkat to take note of the surroundings. It's early. Dew still in the grass and an early morning fog over the lake. The light is dim, the sun not yet as awake as the occupants of your hammock.

“Morning Ale” you croak, morning voice in full effect. You finally turn to her and your breath is nearly taken away by her beauty. Her face is open, hair bedridden and eyes bleary from sleep but smile tugging on her lips as she looks at you with that look.

“Cómo estás aún más hermosa por la mañana?” she asks, in a whisper trying not to break the silence of the morning, it just comes out of her mouth without thinking, and she can’t stop it.

You freeze in her arms, and for a moment she tenses.

“...pardon?” you ask. Ale covers herself, “Ah lo siento, I asked. Did you sleep well?” you hum in acknowledgement and she isn’t sure what to make of the look that you sent her way.

“Yes, very well thank you. At least you’re softer than the floor.” you joke, eyebrow arched.

“I am not soft!” she replies, affronted, “I am all muscle actually!” She sits up and begins to tense her biceps jokingly. This is the Ale that frightens you the most. Frightens you how deep your feelings will run. All jokes and soft edges and smiles. You need a moment.

“Alright alright superwoman. Go put the kettle on, will you? I’m going to jump in the lake to wash off before your girls wake up.” and with that you lean out of the hammock and pull your shirt off as you go, leaving you in a sports bra and Alexia with her mouth hanging open.

Which is why, not 6 minutes later, Ona is awoken to the sound of her tent unzipping.

“Lucia” she hears whisper-yelling, into the entrance of the tent. She freezes, sleep-addled mind confused… is that… Alexia?

“Lucia!” more urgent this time. Ona rolls away from her girlfriend and sees Alexia's head popped through the tent. Looking around urgently.

“What do you want, Ale?” Ona groans. Her girlfriend is dead to the world, an atomic bomb wouldn’t wake her up.

“I need Lucia!”

“What for. What has happened… it must be… 6am?” Ona grabs for her watch, confirming her suspicions. 

“Si, pero eso no importa, I need Lucia to translate for me.”

“You speak better English than she does Spanish.” One is very very confused. “What needs translating?”

“I do not need English, I need British.” Ah. This is making sense now, The whole team had seen how love sick their capi had been over the mountain boss. It was unnerving for them, but all of them wish nothing but happiness for their well respected leader, still, it’s always fun to tease.

“Ah, mi Capi. This has something to do with the jefe de montana, si?” a teasing smile enters her face, “por favor, tell me, what's happened?”

Alexia looks frustrated, looking at something outside of the tent, but seems to accept her fate as she lets herself fall into the tent, practically on top of Ona, whilst holding a… kettle?

“She asked me to put the kettle on. But Ona, I don’t know what I’m putting it on! Is it a special kettle? it doesn't do anything, look!” and with that the young defender gets a metal kettle thrust into her face as though it's a rubix cube that she has 30 seconds to solve

Her captain looks at her so urgently it would be sad if it wasn’t so hilarious. Ona can’t help herself as she bursts out laughing. All this does is further aggravate her captain.

“Oh, olvídalo, idiota, voy a despertar a Kiera.”

“No, No, No, lo siento mi Capi. You forget, I lived in England for years. She means for you to go boil the kettle. For hot drinks.”

Alexia looks at her dumbfounded, “then why didn’t she just say that!”

“I know” Ona looks at her with faux sympathy, as she passes the kettle back to her she looks so determined to complete the little task she's been set that offers her a lifeline.

“Capi, wait.” Alexia turns to look at her expectantly, “I have… experience? With the English.” her eyes dart to the lump that is Lucy sleeping beside her. Well Alexia can’t argue that.

“Make her a Tea. Just trust me.” Ona continues, sagely, as though she had just passed on the wisdom of the universe.

Alexia looks at her, about to question until…

“Tea? Someone's making tea?” Lucy grumbles, rolling over into Ona, seemingly awoken from her deep slumber like a dog who's just heard someone mention a walk.

Alexia doesn’t have time to open her mouth when she hears from the next tent over where she saw Keira set up last night, a thick english accent,

“Ey wait, Is someone brewing up?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s half an hour later and, with intervention from Lucy when Alexia tried to rip open a tea bag into your cup, that you have a warm enamel mug shoved into your hands. Alexia looked at you as though she had just handed you a pot of gold, all shining eyes and happy smile.

You feel much fresher after your early morning dip, trail shorts and vest back on and in two loose plaits that fall down over your shoulders. You look at the mug curiously, before you take a heavenly sniff of the liquid inside.

You thank the blonde, bashfully, and can’t help but place a grateful kiss on her cheek as you move past her. You pretend that your lips aren’t on fire from the contact. For her sake you also pretend that you didn’t see her stumble over a non-existent log at your action.

What you do miss though, is Ona sending her a wink, and the smug ‘i-told-you-so.” look at her face as she leans against her own girlfriend, who is happily drinking from her own mug.

You finish helping Mario make sure that all the girls are fed for the day before you stand in the middle of them and clap to gain their attention.

“Alright ladies! I hope you all slept well,- ” a mumble of affirmation goes through the group,

“I think Ingrid did not sleep so well.” Pina shouts across the group, “Si,” Parti joins in, “Did you see a bear Ingrid? Just I heard you screa-”

A rock is then thrown at Patris head, “ouch!” and you turn to see was directed by Mapi, Ingrid's face in a deep blush. The girls all burst into laughter.

God you were going to miss this group.

“Ok, Ok, Ladies calm it down. So, we have a choice today. Last full day on the hike… if you want it to be.” a curious mumble goes through the group. “Si, so, when we plotted this route someone…” you eye your partner “failed to mention that you are all literal athletes, so, we’re actually ahead of schedule, I’ve spoken to the bus company and if you want to then we can actually make it to the rendezvous spot today. It gives you a day back in Barcelona to yourselves before you start back at your traini….”

“No!” you’re interrupted as the group turns to Alexia who looks as though you’ve just asked her to never kick a ball again.

She takes a moment and realises that she's on her feet in front of the group, half of which are looking at her as though she's lost her mind, and the other half are looking at her with wry grins like they know exactly what's going on. 

“I mean, we should not. We need to bond. As a team. Si?” she asks the group “That is why we are here, and we should do that. Yes.” She looks at her teammates determinedly, nodding, as though daring anyone to question her. 

“But, Ale, you said that you hate–”, you see why Alexia is the best football player on the planet as you witness the speed in which she moves over to Jana and covers her entire face with her hand, stopping her words.

“No Jana, shhh pequeño. You look unwell. Are you feeling okay?” All Jana can do is nod under her giant hand as Mapi sniggers behind hers.

Okay, maybe you wouldn’t miss this group too much. They can be a bit weird. But you pretend that you don’t put more enthusiasm into your next sentence.

“Or, we can take the long way round to the rendezvous point, we’ll get some great views of the lake from that ridge over there” you point upwards and 23 eyes follow your movement, “set up camp for one more night, me and Mario can set up a Bonfire for our last night, yes?” he nods, “and then back to the bus in the morning if we would prefer?”

“Si, That we would prefer!” Alexia answers for the whole group, though the enthusiastic nods behind her assure you that they agree with her.

“Okay then, let's pack up campers, we'll have some elevation gains today!” you smile, clapping your hands together and a groan settles through the group as you move to pack up the breakfast items you hear Mapi and Alexia talking,

“Todos estamos haciendo esto por ti y por tu capitán de vida amorosa, recuérdalo el día del entrenamiento en circuito.”

Alexia responds in a tone you haven't heard from her before, “Lo sé, gracias Mapi. Simplemente no estoy listo para decir adiós todavía, ella es especial” she looks direct at you as she responds, no attempt to hide her spanish words, and the intensity of her gaze makes you look away.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All you wanted to do was a repeat of yesterday, hang at the back of the group and walk with Alexia. Maybe let your hand brush against hers a few times more than necessary and learn all about her life in Barca.

But, you were the best guide on this side of Europe for a reason. And you think Mario would push you off the mountain if you left him to do it again, even if he tells you he wouldn’t, you still felt bad about yesterday. 

So today, you found yourself at the front of the group. Weirdly, Alexia by your side with a few of the older girls, as well as Jana and Vicky who were hanging off Alexia's every word. It was cute, watching her with them.

Whatever fatigue she was suffering from yesterday which slowed her down so much seemed to have lifted, as her strong legs carried her with the rest of the group upwards. The elevation not bothering any of the women.

You were just hanging back with Mapi and Ingrid for a moment. Mapis backpack was bothering her, probably on account of her trying to carry all of Ingrids kit, you were teasing her as you helped to re-adjust the weight as Mapi was grumbling about how she definitely was strong enough to carry two sleeping bags, a tent as well as two sets of clothing whilst Ingrid was literally carrying a pillow, when the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Something didn’t feel right, you looked up and could still see the front of the group, Alexia and Vicky chatting, going off Aleixas hand movements there was some deep football discussion going on.

You take stock of everything around you. In order to be in your line of work you needed to be aware of all of your senses, if one failed, another would pick it up, a smell in the air brought your attention and you turned to see droppings just off the trail. A large amount of droppings, and, oh no, green. You turned again and saw a tree bark torn up further away from the trail.

Fuck.

Bear droppings are green and quickly turn black as they oxidise, bears tear up trees and rocks as they pass through an area. These droppings were fresh, very fresh.

That, tied with your fantastic intuition, made you nervous.

The group had continued onward as you took stock and Alexia and Vicky had turned a corner just up the trail. You quickly help Mapi back into her backpack and move through the group quickly, making your way to the front.

“Detener!” you shout, wanting Alexia and Vicky in your sights. You turn the corner and your shout has caught their attention as they are both frozen, looking at you expectantly.

What they fail to notice, however, is a bear on the trail in front of them, not 20 metres away.

It’s a young bear, that you can tell, which is good because of its size, but the worst possible situation because young bears, like humans, are stupid. 

They are curious, they don’t see you as a threat, but if there is a bear this young here, there will be a mother bear somewhere around which you definitely do not want to be on the wrong side of.

You need to separate your group from this bear as quickly as possible. But without freaking them out.

“Alexia, walk towards me.” you instruct, seriously, arm out reaching towards the two girls, whilst you hold your other arm out behind you. Stopping the rest of the group before they can move forwards.

“What’s the matte— oh meirda…” Alexia has turned and seen what's on the path in front of her. Her back immediately straightens and grabs Vicky to pull her behind her. You hate the quick movement that they make as you inwardly cringe at their actions.

“Alexia, stay calm.” you slowly move towards them, “do not make any quick movements.” you don’t receive any sort of affirmation as both girls seem to be frozen in place.

“No te muevas rápidamente, no corras. Caminar hacia atrás lentamente” your use of spanish seems to get through the fear as you see Alexias feet start to scramble backwards, pushing Vicky behind her, who remains shielded behind her back.

You move forwards, slowly, arms still raised and as soon as in touching distance, pull Alexia behind your back. You can’t see her face as you refuse to move your eyes from the threat in front of you, but you can feel the terror running through her body.

Meanwhile, the bear is having a great old time, sniffing around and pawing at the ground. He’s stopped on the trail and is looking at you, curiously, as he starts to move towards you, you hear a yelp of terror from one of the girls behind you.

Usually, you know, to make yourself big and back up as slowly as possible, but you’re in a group of 23 novice hikers, and you knew you had to get this threat away as quickly as possible.

So instead, you make yourself big, you raise your arms in the air and start to move forward. You feel a tug on the back of your shirt and a frightened whimper from the tall blonde who seems to have grasped onto your shirt.

You take a big stride forwards as you move a hand back to untangle Alexia's grasp from your shirt.

“OYE, OSO. LO SIENTO AMIGO, TINES QUE MOVERTE!” you continue to move forward and wave your hands around. The bear cocks his head at you, curiously, you’re still moving closer and an alarm is going off in your mind, he’s gotta start moving or you’re going to be too close for comfort…

“SEGUIR. IRSE” you clap your hands together sharply, and that seems to frighten the curiosity from the young bear, who quickly scurries off the path and deep into the bush on your right hand side. 

The silence of the moment is suffocating. You take a moment and breathe some deep breaths. Filling your lungs and slowly releasing it. Once you feel your heartbeat settle down you turn on your heel and open your eyes to face the group behind you.

There, you are faced with 23 shell shocked faces. Mouths comically dropped as they all stare at you in awe.

The silence is interrupted as Mario catches up to the group, singing under his breath, you see his head pop up from the back of the group and an innocent smile on his face, “Hey chicas? What did I miss?”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  

“...And then El jefe de la montaña practically tackled this enormous bear that was virtually salivating at the thought of eating Ales pert butt as a light snack!”

Mapi dramatically, and incorrectly recites her version of events for what feels like the 5th time for the rest of the group who were hanging back with Mario during the excitement of the day.

The whole group sat together at the bonfire that you and Mario had erected, you’d gone the whole hog and dragged logs over to create a circle around the fire. You’d cracked out the marshmallows you’d been hiding deep in your backpack and you and the girls had had an evening of jokes, stories and, after Matio whipped his ukulele out again, songs. 

You’re sitting with Ingrid and you miss the warmth at your side that had been present over the last two days. Alexia is sat with Vicky, and, whilst she’s been nothing but pleasant to you since the incident this afternoon, you feel like a barrier has come up between you.

You try to not overthink the situation, who are you anyway? She's Alexia Putellas, and, over the last 3 days you've learnt that that's a big deal. Of course she isn’t interested in you. God. You need to be a professional. You try to stay in the moment and stop your mind from running away. You feel the heat from the fire on your face as you close your eyes.

“... and how did you learn to do that?” you hear, and as Ingrid nudges your side, you realise Mapis question was aimed at you.

You open your eyes and see the attention of the group on you. There may be an entire football team's eyes on you but you can’t help but zone in on a certain set of hazel eyes which bore directly into your soul.

“I told you, I’ve been on the wrong end of a bear in my time.” you try to joke, pointing at the scar again running down your leg, and you get a few chuckles, but you note, Alexia's face remains stoic, and her frown deepens at your words.

“What happened?” Vicky asks, next to her. She receives a light slap to the head from her captain, “Aye, don’t be rude pequeño.”

“I don’t mind Ale.” you say, heart warming at Alexias protectiveness, “well, little football superstar” you address Vicky, “I was on a 6 month trek through the Andeas, we wanted to see if we could find any further remains from the Incas. We did by the way. Anyway, I was young, and stupid and we hadn’t stored our food safely, which, you’ll note, me and Mario have done today.” you reach across and give your partner a fist bump, “a mother bear wandered into our camp whilst I was alone. I was an idiot and got between her and an open packet of cheetos.”

“Cheetos!” Vicky asks, incredulously.

“Yes! Turns out they love those cheesy snacks” you wink at her, “she attacked and luckily, my camp leader was just coming back and managed to deploy his bear spray just as she managed to take a good swipe at my calf. I was lucky. But it wasn’t her fault. I was in her land and didn’t protect myself properly.”

Vicky waxes lyrical about your story for a while, asking you a million and one questions. The conversation across the campfire moves onto the upcoming season for the team as you and Mario start to set camp up for the night around them.

“Hey, Al, Me and Ing are heading to bed, I promise we’ll behave tonight, but I can’t promise I won’t cuddle you.” you hear Mapi address to Alexia,

“Great, look forward to it” Alexia replied sarcastically. Mapis retreat to bed seems to have set off a chain reaction amongst the team who all start to say their goodnights.

You can’t pretend that you aren’t upset that you won’t have a repeat of last night in your hammock. The sadness swirls in your stomach, but you remind yourself that the whole thing seemed to be a fantasy you’d made up in your mind. 

You look up to the sky and with your head torch can see that it seems to have darkened somewhat. You move away from camp and string a rope above your hammock, you throw over a tarpaulin which covers your hammock and protects you from any rain.

As you move back to the fire you decide you’ll wait it out instead of throwing water on to drown the fire. You have some excess energy from the excitement of the day and you know you’ll just lie awake in your hammock anyway. As Mario squeezes your shoulder in goodnight you notice that Alexia seems to be hanging around the edge of the circle. 

“Night Ale.” you say, kindly. It’s not her fault you have a massive unrequited crush on her.

You don’t know her well but she seems…nervous? Hands playing with themselves and feet unable to stay still.

“Nig… actually… Can we talk?” she asks, chin turning upwards and vulnerability showing on her face.

You nod and you are surprised when she sits next to you and asks, “why do you still do it?”

You look at her, curiously, she is so beautiful. Sharp angles of her face illuminated by the dying embers, perfect lips, the arch of her nose. She takes your breath away. You have a question in your eyes.

“This. As a job. You got hurt…” her hand moves, and god it's only been a few hours but you feel like you’ve been touch starved for years, as she lightly traces the scar on your calf. Leaving behind a wake of goosebumps. “You’re so brave…”

Maybe it's her touch that makes gives you the confidence but you dont think before you reply,

“I could ask you the same thing.” She has a question in her eyes now, so you repeat her action, hand moving to touch her knee where you can see the surgery scars that pull tight against her skin.

You feel her take in a breath and you think you may have overstepped until she takes your hand in her large one, keeping your hand resting on her knee.

You look into the fire as you continue; “I love my job. I can’t imagine my life without it. It gives me air in my lungs. It's my reason to live. And yeah. I got hurt. I've been hurt before and I’ll be hurt again.” Alexia squeezes your hand at that, “but that's why we do what we love, isn’t it? You’re so brave every time you step out onto a pitch again” you direct your question to her, “we learn from our mistakes, come back stronger from our injuries, not just in our skills but as people? No?” 

There's that look again, those open eyes, that expression you can’t place.

“Football is the same for you Ale. I can tell. When you talk about it. Think of that feeling you get. That's why I carry on. I love it, and it wasn’t that bears fault I got hurt, It was mine. Just as it wasn’t the rocks fault as I slipped 200 feet down Mt Kilimanjaro. They’re all lessons on how to adapt, on how to come back stronger.”

She nods, a look of understanding in her eyes and turns her gaze towards the fire. But doesn’t let go of your hand. 

You don't know what Alexia is thinking. You don't know that she feels like every word out of your mouth feels like you've plucked it straight from her heart. You're deep. She feels like finally someone gets her.

“You spoke Spanish today.” she lets out into the silence.

Ah, you think, she hadn’t missed it like you thought that she may have done in the heat of the moment. And, as usual, you try to break the tension with a joke.

“He was a Spanish bear. I wanted him to understand me.”

Alexia doesn't laugh but instead turns to you again, “I feel stupid.” 

There's that vulnerability again.

“No. Never feel stupid Alexia, you are the most intelligent person I have ever met.” you reply, instantly, and turn your body to hers,

“You didn’t tell me that you spoke spanish… everything I have said…”

“I meant to! Honestly I did, I mean I told you I lived in Peru for two years.” she raises her eyebrow at you… “Ale they speak Spanish in Peru.” “Oh.”

Her eyes drop down to the floor and you can’t physically allow that look of sadness to sit on her face for a moment longer.

“I think you’re more beautiful in the mornings too.” you whisper, the only noise around you the crackling of the drying embers around you.

Alexia looks up at this, eyes somewhat, hopeful? And it's that look that gives you the belief that maybe maybe she feels the same way?

“Si? Even though you made me smell like garlic?” she asks, before the syllable is even out of her mouth you reply. “Si, tan hermoso. Aunque tal vez sea más hermoso ahora con la luz del fuego.”

You stood in front of a bear today.

But the scariest moment of your day is as you move your head towards hers, slowly, more frightened of this rejection than any wild animal.

You look deeply into her eyes and the permission you seek is gained there, she gives you a small nod as she closes the distance between you both. Her lips finally meet yours in a gentle and sweet kiss.

It's like fireworks have gone off in your stomach. 

Your mouth tingles where it presses against hers, your lips softly encase her lower lip and you hear her squeak of satisfaction which is the cutest fucking thing you have ever heard in your life.

You kiss as though you have all the time in the world. It is gentle and slow. Until it is not. And then you kiss like a pair of horny teenagers as it deepens and you groan into her mouth as her tongue seeks permission in yours.

You would have continued all night had mother nature not intervened. 

You’re good with your senses and you hear the fizz of the fire going out before you feel the drops of rain on your skin. You pause your movements and look deep into Alexia's eyes.

“Y hueles deliciosa” you whisper, enjoying the way her eyes crinkle as you make her laugh.

“Will you sleep with me?” you ask, her eyes widen in panic at your question and it takes your lust-addled brain a moment to catch up, “wait. No! No Lo siento, no soy un asqueroso! I mean. Will you stay with me tonight in my hammock? No funny business, I promise!”. 

Your hands move off the taller girls hips where they seem to have found themselves as she settled onto your lap, and you hold them high in surrender.

Alexia saw you face a bear today.

And the look on your face now is more panicked than it was then. 

She smiles at you, god she has it bad she thinks.

“Si, I will, and… maybe some funny business?”

You’re lucky that your bark of laughter doesn’t wake up any of your campmates.

Content that the rain which is now falling more heavily will take care of the fire, you rush the blonde to your hammock, lifting the tarpaulin above her head so she could duck down and she settles herself into the material like a seasoned pro.

You open up your sleeping bag and turn it into a blanket which will cover you both as she opens up her arms and you settle into them. It’s pitch black in the tent and you feel as though your other senses are working to make up for it. The rain patters against the plastic sheet above you and you enjoy the sound as you enjoy the warmth beneath you, the hammock still swaying gently.

You shuffle in the blondes hold, moving so that you can lie stomach to stomach. Your face close to hers, you exchange gentle kisses and enjoy the feeling of her hands on your back as you gently scratch against her scalp.

Your head on her chest as sleep starts to take you, still enjoying the heat of her body and the ministrations of her hands which have moved beneath your t-shirt.

“Maybe the outdoors isn’t so bad.” you hear her whisper as sleep takes hold. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Life is funny sometimes.

You think to yourself.

You think about how you got here.

Not 24 hours ago stood in Arles, a minibus packed with footballers in front of you, and, in most cases, gawking at you, faces pushed against the windows, comically, as Ingrid moved through the inside of the bus, slapping heads and pulling them back into their seats.

You’d held Alexia's hands. You’d followed her lead this morning and since you both woke up and made breakfast at the campfire, she hadn’t stopped being affectionate, seemingly, no hint of hiding her affections from her teammates.

She’d hung behind with you and helped you pack up camp, as you both spent what you thought potentially was your last morning together.

It was light, you both had laughed easily and teased each other relentlessly.

Until that moment, when reality struck. You, due to fly back home to England in a few hours, and Alexia, about to board a bus which would take her miles away from you.

You’d already scribbled your number onto a trail mix wrapper and secured it into her hand. She had promised to message as soon as she could and you had promised to keep in touch, trying to keep the tears that teased your eyes at bay as you settled your face into her warm palm. 

But it hadn’t felt right.

It wasn’t fair. It was too soon. This had felt too right.

So you hadn’t been able to control yourself, as you faced her back as she boarded the bus when you asked; “Hey, Ale?” she’d turned and you knew you hadn’t misplaced that look of hope in her eyes, “Have you ever been to an 82nd birthday party?”

The grin that overtook her face could only be matched by yours.

So here you now found yourself. Standing in your nan’s garden under a gazebo as the English rain lightly drizzled, only 2 hours fashionably late for the event you actually arrived back in England for 4 days ago.

As your brother had opened the door earlier, you laughed at the shock on his face when he took Alexia in. All blonde, lean and mediterranean and very out of place in the middle of the drizzle of the English lake district.

Your whole extended family had popped up behind your brother, smiles and coy grins on their faces. Your mum broke the stunned silence at your arrival, more specifically, at the blonde by your side.

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

Alexia's face broke out into a huge grin that literally warmed your heart.

“I know how to do that!” she had replied, excitedly, her spanish accent thick.

Well, maybe not that out of place.

fin.  

[theholmwoodfoundation]

THE HOLMWOOD FOUNDATION SEASON ONE SUPPORTING CAST

BASIL WAITE - THOMAS VAN HELSING

Basil is a puppeteer and puppet builder, who currently lives by the sea in rainy South Wales. He is well-versed in performing without being seen, as he’s usually under a table or behind a desk, so this project will be a lot more comfortable…! When he’s not making creatures from fleece or doing silly voices, he’s usually listening to an audio book or podcast, so he’s thrilled to be involved with this amazing project!”

MICHELLE KELLY - HENRI MARTIN

Michelle Kelly is an actor, voice actor and TTRPG performer based in Yorkshire, UK. You can hear her as Niyathi in The Secret of St Kilda, as Alexandria in Tales From the Fringes of Reality, and as multiple characters in The Silt Verses, Folxlore and Shadows at the Door. Find out more about her work at https://michellekellyperformance.carrd.co

JACKIE CALISTAHHH - ELENA

Jackie Calistahhh is an actress and seductress. She works in SFW and NSFW productions alike: Commercials, videogames, erotica. She loves immersing herself in different characters and worlds.

ROBYN HOLDAWAY - CAM

Robyn is a non-binary actor best known for their work as Layla in Netflix's 'Sex Education'. Their credits also include: AMC's 'Moonhaven', BBC's 'Strike: Lethal White', and various other stage and screen roles. Their audiobook work includes the award winning 'Our Wives Under the Sea', as well as critically acclaimed 'Sistersong', 'How To Understand Your Gender', and 'Skin'. Robyn can be heard in the audiodrama 'Camlann' and in the upcoming video game 'Eternal Strands'. They are an active member of the LGBTQ community, and they are passionate about bringing this diversity into the mainstream both as an artist and as an activist

DAVID AULT - DR TIMOTHY LAKE

David has played major roles for many productions, including his 'Best Actor' award-winning portrayal of Byron in The Byron Chronicles. He can also be heard at the No Sleep Podcast, Shadows at the Door and Colonial Radio Theatre, amongst others.

KARIM KRONFLI - DAVE

Karim has been a professional performer for over 30 years originally working as a juggler and firebreather. Trained as a Director and Voice Actor at City Lit in London he started doing voice work in 2010. Specialising in audio drama he has appeared in over 100 productions including Re: Dracula, The Magnus Archives, London After Midnight, SCP Archives, Dr Who: Redacted and many more.

CANDACE MCAFEE - MAGDALENA SWIFT

Candace the Magnificent (they/she) is an actor, TTRPG performer, and writer based in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. They love bringing their unique voice to a wide variety of projects, from commercials and animation to improv and audiodramas. You can hear more of their work in the upcoming video game Monaco 2, the cosmic horror audio drama Partial Veil, the actual play podcasts 3 Black Halflings and Frequencies, and many more. Learn more about her here: https://candacemcafee.carrd.co.

ANDREW BISS - JONATHAN HARKER 3RD

Andrew is an actor, voice actor and playwright, with an extensive background in theatre and film. Recent credits include the audio dramas ‘Station 151,’ ‘Vampire: The Masquerade Port Saga’ and the newly released ‘Clawmoor Heights’ as well as narrating the documentary series ‘Building Icons’ for Warner Bros. Discovery. He is the author of the best-selling book ‘Monologues They’ll Remember You By’ and is a graduate of the University of the Arts London and a member of the Dramatists Guild of America, Inc. More at: andrewbiss.com and adbvoiceover.com.

As always, you can listen to our pilot episode now for free at the link below. And please donate to our Kickstarter for Season One, if you're able!

[reality-detective]

Exposed: The Secret Dominion of the Rothschilds, Rockefellers, and Morgans 💥

Prepare to uncover the startling reality behind the world's most influential families and their immense control over the global economy. The Federal Reserve Cartel, consisting of the Rothschilds, Rockefellers, and Morgans, wields unprecedented power that extends well beyond the realm of oil.

Imagine this: The Four Horsemen of Banking, including Bank of America, JP Morgan Chase, Citigroup, and Wells Fargo, unite with the Four Horsemen of Oil, such as Exxon Mobil, Royal Dutch/Shell, BP, and Chevron Texaco. Yet, their dominion doesn't stop there. Through an intricate web of private banks, they have expanded their influence to encompass the music industry. These colossal entities, along with Deutsche Bank, BNP, Barclays, and other European old money giants, hold the reins of the music industry, allowing them to shape its trajectory and exert their influence.

The Machiavellian machinations of the Rockefeller dynasty reach far and wide, commencing with their commercialization of music in the early 1900s. They orchestrated a sinister plot to shift the world's standard tuning of music to 440 pitch. This insidious frequency was known to provoke heightened aggression, psychosocial agitation, emotional distress, and even physical ailments. Behind closed doors, this manipulation resulted in financial gains for those complicit in the monopoly, including agents, agencies, and companies associated with the North American Rockefeller crime cartel and influential organizations.

Fast forward to the late 1980s when the Rockefellers summoned top music executives and artists to a highly clandestine meeting in Los Angeles. Their sinister agenda? To usher in the era of Controlled Rap Music, intricately linked to the privatization of U.S. prisons. These privately owned prisons, operated by the Rockefellers, Rothschilds, Bush family, and other influential figures, served as money laundering operations, tax exemption schemes, and pyramid scheme enterprises.

Crafting a deceitful plan, the Rockefellers aimed to control the rap industry and target black communities by promoting violent music that fueled oppression and civil unrest. They brought together leading executives and prominent black artists, binding them with strict confidentiality agreements. Their objective was clear: orchestrate violence within the rap music movement while major record labels secured exclusive rights for production and distribution across the United States. In return, they would receive shares and points within the private prison systems.

The Masonic scheme unfolded with precision, resulting in over 1,500 private prison systems incarcerating more than 1 million black teenagers by 1990. These vulnerable youths, expressing the generational trauma imposed upon them, unknowingly contributed to the Rockefellers' malevolent plan. The private prison systems reaped billions annually from the government, establishing an extensive money laundering network through inflated products, such as ramen noodles priced at 8 times their actual value. The flow of hundreds of billions from government funding, pyramid schemes, and insurance companies transformed prison privatization into a multi-trillion-dollar enterprise.

Local courts and judges mercilessly sentenced petty criminals and first-time offenders, filling the expanding private prisons. Consequently, the United States holds the unfortunate record for the highest number of incarcerated individuals in the world, with an unprecedented number of prisons. This was not a coincidence—it was a meticulously orchestrated plan by the Rockefellers.

But their influence doesn't stop there.

As the true faces of those who wield global authority are revealed, the Rothschilds and Rockefellers find themselves targeted by military alliance operations aiming to dismantle the Rothschilds' deep state power in Europe, the UK, Russia, and China.

- Julian Assange WikiLeaks 🤔

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

New to your blog, and I’m so happy that you think around the issues rather than ‘bat shit crazy’ being the go to reason/excuse. Anyway I have always thought that one of the major problems was Andrew basically had a half in/half out deal, he had his Pitch at the Palace, a commercial operation which totally exploited the Royal connections. It was also said that whenever a tech company applied to ‘pitch’ they had to sign over a percentage of equity just to get a foot in the door.

So given that as a template it’s not surprising that Harry thought he could do the same, particularly if he believed his own publicity that he was ‘the favoured grandchild’, like his uncle was allegedly the favoured second son. Plus of course Andrew lives in the imposing Lodge, was ex-military, and if you believe the press ‘air miles Andy’ spent a lot of time in private planes piggybacking royal duties with a round of golf.

As with Harry’s uncle/godfather I believe there was genuine confusion when he was told he couldn’t have what he wanted and I think the stroppy exit was only supposed to force the Queen to bring him back and give him what they wanted. Harry seems obsessed with fairness, whether that’s Balmoral sausage distribution, the income from the Duchy of Cornwall, or getting the same deal as his uncle. You would think that someone with a world class education, coming from a thousand year old dynasty would have at some point grasped that life just isn’t fair, and you make the most of the cards you are given which though considerable aren’t enough for the DoS.

That's a really good point - Andrew had half in/half out for a really long time. Before Pitch at the Palace, he also had that Trade Representative gig where he basically flew around on private jets to private holidays drumming up business for the UK.

That seems to be where Harry and Meghan got some of their audacity from - if Andrew can do it, why can't we? Where they misstepped was probably in how aggressive their demands were and how aggressively they made them, which most likely caused the discussions to become hostile.

I think the stroppy exit was only supposed to force the Queen to bring him back and give him what they wanted. -> I agree. Harry probably didn't expect The Queen to call his bluff and that also caught him completely off-guard.

My theory is that Harry and Meghan only agreed to the one-year review period thinking that everything would go to shit without them and the palace would be begging them to come back. Well, that didn't happen so when it came time for the one-year review and no one was begging them to return, it made them angry and they began negotiating with Oprah for a tell-all to get their revenge. (The press release announcing the "no, they're still out" result of the one-year review was on February 19, 2021, and Oprah wasn't finalized until around that same time.)

[svaproject]

Sonic Adventure (DC) - UK 'Door' Commercial

[docholligay]

The raison d’etre for this trip, in its conception, was to see the Christmas markets of Germany and the UK. I don’t know if I’ll say that is actually how it turned out, given how many UK markets Mom has taken a quick turn around and then decided to go do something else, like sit in a pub or sit in a different pub*. It must be said that, in this department, Germany beats the UK as rightly and soundly as [insert inappropriate WWII joke here]. The Christmas ‘markets’ in the UK are largely consisting, at least based on my survey of four large and major ones, repackaged items that are largely not handcrafted by the seller, a lot of food stalls, and, bless it, a number of bars. Not a bad tme if I lived in any of these cities but assuredly not something worth crossing that Atlantic for. 

But the German Christmas markets were mostly as advertised. Even the more commercial among them had foods that carried the air of the traditional, made extensive effort to continue the line of culture that had been there for generations, and curled around themselves in long circles that invited more of a chance to meander than a strict row system that kept you going down a shooting gallery of booths. The Frankfurt market, even straight off the plane ride with a roughly 3 hour night, dazzled with its sense of history and its easy strolls through to the bar. It was at this market that I tried what I might call, “The drink of the trip”

Fuerzangenbowle, the best hot alcoholic drink I had never encountered even in writing, even in passing, truly a genius invention.** What this is, is mulled wine, already getting points from me, but then they soak a cone of sugar in rum and light it on fire so it drips down into the wine. I would have told you i wouldn’t care for that because it would make it too sweet, but it really doesn’t. What it does, is add a note of toasted caramel to the wine, a slightly burnt taste that adds to the larger whole. It is so good, that I am going to go home and see if I can buy some kind of piloncillo that’s small enough to work for the single serving cup. I don’t know that I would try and make it for a crowd, I’ll leave that to the professionals, but I do love lighting things on fire as my wife will, sighing heavily, attest to. 

All of them were good, and Cologne in general was much more charming than I had been led to believe it would be, but it was there we came upon the best market of them all: 

The old town market. 

We stopped there simply because it was the next place on the little train that takes you from market to market, but I was immediately captured by it. Busy and crowded, people miling around each other like little bees, the hum of their voices uniting into a low buzz. A violin plays “Come Emmanuel” at the door, and the long, high voice of it carries above and weaves through. The bright and bustle as the lights glow against the darkness, fairytale in the way that I could never hope to describe to another human being. I had to take a breath as i stepped inside. It was a Christmas market as you imagine them, a watercolor made real, the cold of the air touching your cheeks, the smell of mulled wine in the air, all of it immediate and total. All of it something that somehow seemed a dream, as if i’d been pulled into a book though admittedly in my fairy story slightly less people would be wearing beanies and puffy jackets, but what is fantasy without a little grime on it? 

In this one it also seemed that the traders had been vetted to some extent in the main square, and so was near-exclusively people who had made the objects in their booths. We spoke to people when possible, given my hilariously limited German, about their stuff, and gawked at it, and I bought a little mug for my daughter with her name on it, that the woman painted right in front of us. 

Whether the rest of the markets were a disappointment*** or not was hardly material at this point, because my mother was so entranced by the old market. She spoke of it all the time on the trip, as we were going through other markets, as we sat in a pub, as we put on our pajamas. I think it will probably take the crown for experiences on this trip. I can think of only a few that might unseat it. My mother’s face as we wandered through the market was all the confirmation I needed that this was the right choice. 

And so I am delighted to inform myself that Germany was a success. I said I would never return there, I let myself be talked into it, and I had a wonderful time. 

*This sounds like a complaint, but is full of delight. I have two favorite things to do when I travel: Walk miles and miles around a city (absolutely not happening here, there is a hot short list of people in my life who can walk as fast and far as I can) and go to pubs, bars, etc where there are a fair amount of locals and people like to talk. See my unwieldy essay on how much I like people for reference. 

**The best mulled wine I had, however, does in fact go to the UK. Specifically, Peacock’s Tea Room in Ely had the absolute best mulled wine I had in the entire trip, the seasoning was exceptional, it was not overly sweet, the cup contained some soaked fruit and sliced almonds, it was truly exceptional and I know I’ll be trying to style my mulled wine off it for a long while. 

***Things are rarely a true disappointment to me because I operate on the idea that everything in life is a lesson, is information, and if it wasn’t what I built up in my head, that is information, and it’s information I can pass on to others. Sometimes i love a miserable story as much as a successful one. Attitude can change the color of many situations, and I tend to be very adpatable and cheerful, and also i froze to death or it was crowded or whatever whatever is more often than not, not what I will carry away from any given situation. But, this is somewhat unique to me and I’ve spent a long time cultivating a sense of appreciation for these things, so I felt a little bad for my mom. 

[coochiequeens]

Countries that ban commercial surrogacy but allow altruistic surrogacy are by default allowing would be reproductive purchasers to guilt trip young women into inconveniencing herself for over a year when they could look into adopting.

MAY 31, 2024 - 1:10PM

Ireland has mummy issues. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the upcoming Assisted Human Reproduction Bill. The proposed legislation, which passed through the Dáil on Wednesday, would allow those who have been resident in Ireland for two years to hire women from a list of approved countries to serve as surrogates, gestating and giving birth to babies who will then be handed over to them.

The main body of the bill concerns the licensing of agencies engaged in international surrogacy and the establishment of new legal frameworks. So-called “intended parents” will have legal rights, even where the baby is born abroad, provided the child has a “genetic link to at least one” of them.

While the ban on commercial surrogacy remains in place, a “reasonable sum” can be offered, and it seems entirely likely this will open the door to pregnancy-as-employment. For example, legitimate expenses will include the loss of income by the surrogate mother for up to one year and the salary of a cleaner for the duration of the pregnancy. There are a range of safeguards in place to ensure that prospective surrogate mothers are not exploited, but whether these will be respected in jurisdictions outside Ireland remains questionable.

With fertility rates plummeting across the world, the baby-making business is set to boom; in 2022 the surrogacy industry was valued at $14 billion. Given the swelling commercial clout, it seems likely smaller countries will cave to domestic and international pressure by loosening laws.

The Irish bill will bring the country closer to the UK, which allows for altruistic surrogacy. Notably, while Russia and Ukraine have lax laws and effectively allow surrogate mothers to be paid, all forms of the practice are outlawed across much of Europe, including Italy, Spain, France and Germany.

Many of the bill’s proponents have heralded it as marking progress toward equality between same-sex and opposite-sex couples, toward a forward-looking Ireland free from the scandals of its Catholic past.

The bill’s righteous and progressive aims were cemented in January when the Pope called surrogacy “a grave violation of the dignity of the woman and the child, based on the exploitation of situations of the mother’s material needs.” “A child is always a gift and never the basis of a commercial contract,” he added.

Chair of the Fine Gael parliamentary party, Alan Farrell TD, swelled with pride during a debate on the bill as he reflected: “We have seen dramatic changes in women’s rights and LGBT rights in Ireland, led by the public and pursued by the Government. This bill is the latest where successive governments have sought to build on that progress and deliver real change that reflects more understanding and an equal country.”

A spokesperson from the LGB rights group “Not All Gays” told me that opposition to the legislation has been framed as “anti-LGBTQIA”. “When will they stop weaponising LGB’s struggles and genuine homophobia to push for ethically dubious laws that could be plucked straight out of Gilead?” she asked. “We are not your shield to be used to silence reasonable debate or opposition to laws that seek to erode the rights and civil liberties.”

Just as with the dissolution of women’s rights at the hands of trans activists, this most recent threat to women’s dignity, health and happiness has come cloaked in the rainbow flag. But in reality, it signifies nothing more than a social shift toward the commercialisation of women’s bodies.

It is a triumph of market forces, of the state-sanctioned use of wombs for the production of a designer accessory. Provided the mother meets the minimum requirements, couples and individuals who have commissioned babies will be able to pose with them for Instagram snaps as soon as the mother has given birth.

The bill will probably pass into law, and Ireland will become a land where virgins may indeed become mothers. It is conceivable that future generations will look back on the period of legalised surrogacy with horror as we now do the brutal homes where unmarried mothers had their infants ripped from their care.

Josephine Bartosch is a freelance writer and assistant editor at The Critic.

In the meantime

[justforbooks]

Was famed Samson and Delilah really painted by Rubens? No, says AI

Long-held doubts about the authenticity of the National Gallery’s masterpiece, bought for £2.5m in 1980, are backed by pioneering technology

The National Gallery has always given pride of place to Peter Paul Rubens’s Samson and Delilah, listing it among the “highlights” of its collection, since it purchased the picture at Christie’s in 1980 for a then record price.

It depicts the Old Testament hero in the lap of the lover who betrayed him, having beguiled him into revealing that his God-given strength lay in his uncut hair. As Samson sleeps, Delilah’s accomplice cuts his locks, rendering him powerless, with soldiers ready at the door to capture him.

Critics have long suggested that the painting is not really by Rubens. And now a series of scientific tests employing groundbreaking AI technology have concluded that the 17th-century Flemish master could never have painted it.

“The results are quite astonishing,” Dr Carina Popovici, the scientist who carried out the study, told the Observer. “The algorithm has returned a 91% probability for the artwork not being authentic.”

In comparing Samson and Delilah with 148 uncontested Rubens paintings, the analysis produced one of the scientists’ highest-ever probabilities of the hundreds of pictures they have tested so far.

“I was so shocked,” said Popovici. “We repeated the experiments to be really sure that we were not making a mistake and the result was always the same. Every patch, every single square, came out as fake, with more than 90% probability.”

The AI analysis was carried out by Art Recognition, a Swiss company based near Zurich of which Popovici is co-founder. It has analysed 400 works with this technology, and has an ongoing collaboration with Tilburg University in Holland.

Its report concludes: “The AI System evaluates Samson and Delilah not to be an original artwork by Rubens with a probability of 91.78%.” In contrast, the scientists’ analysis of another National Gallery Rubens – A View of Het Steen in the Early Morning – came out with a probability of 98.76% in favour of the artist.

The National Gallery bought the picture for £2.5m, equivalent to £6.6m today, and some have suggested that it would now fetch far more as The Massacre of the Innocents sold for a record £49.5m in 2002.

Michael Daley, director of ArtWatch UK, who has researched the painting extensively, described the AI report as “exceedingly damning”. Daley is among those whose serious doubts about the painting’s attribution to Rubens have always been dismissed by the gallery and Rubens scholars.

Critics have long argued that it is only a copy of a Rubens original that is known to have been painted between 1608 and 1609 for his Antwerp patron Nicolaas Rockox which then disappeared after his death in 1640.

They argue that the National Gallery picture is a different painting, one that only surfaced in 1929, declared a Rubens by Ludwig Burchard, an expert who, after his death in 1960, was found to have misattributed paintings by giving out certificates of authenticity for commercial gain.

The picture’s critics dismiss its colours as uncharacteristic of Rubens’s palette and its composition as awkward. They question why, for example, it differs from two contemporary copies made from Rubens’s original. The toes of Samson’s outstretched right foot, for example, are cropped in the National Gallery version, while they are shown in an engraving by Jacob Matham and a painting that depicts the Samson and Delilah hanging in Rockox’s home by Frans Francken the Younger.

“For three decades, the National Gallery dismissed artistically, technically and historically informed challenges to the attribution. When a picture is wrong, everything is wrong,” Daley said.

The National Gallery has faced similar criticism in the past. It included the Salvator Mundi in its 2011 Leonardo exhibition, although it was an unknown work with doubts about its attribution, restoration and ownership. Its display would have boosted its market value and the painting sold at Christie’s, New York, in 2017 for $450 million. “Coming so soon after its ill-advised espousal of the now-rejected $450m Salvator Mundi, these Rubens findings are a calamity for the National Gallery,” Daley added.

Dr Katarzyna Krzyżagórska-Pisarek, an art historian, has long dismissed the Samson and Delilah as “highly problematic”, having identified more than 60 of Burchard’s Rubens attributions that have subsequently been demoted.

“The significance of this new AI method of authentication is potentially groundbreaking. Devoid of human subjectivity, emotion and commercial interests, the software is coldly objective and scientifically accurate. Many questionable works were attributed to Rubens at the beginning of the 20th century… There is today a distinct need for more reliable methods of connoisseurship,” she said.

The AI technology – “convolutional neural network” –analyses different features of an artist’s work, including brushstroke patterns. Popovici said that “everything that’s not by the hand of the assumed artist will come out with a negative probability” and that the technology can produce accurate results even for artists who significantly changed their style across their careers as every artist has a unique brushstroke.

She added: “Sometimes patches don’t come out with the same probability, if it’s not clear but, in this case, every single patch came out with more than 90% probability as a fake. This is very certain.”

A National Gallery spokesman said: “The Gallery always takes note of new research. We await its publication in full so that any evidence can be properly assessed. Until such time, it will not be possible to comment further.”

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[randomvarious]

Today's mix:

Nite:Life Volume:01 by Jon Marsh 2000 Deep House / House

Jon Marsh has really had quite a career for himself, man. Started out in an indie/post-punk/new wave band in early 80s London called The Beloved and managed a little success with them; then they shrunk down to a duo and transitioned into more of a house and alt-dance sound; then the group went quiet for the entirety of '91 and '92; and then they came back in '93, reformed as a husband-and-wife duo, and earned themselves a big top-ten UK hit with a single called "Sweet Harmony." And then the year after that, Marsh landed himself a fucking DJ residency at none other than premier London nightclub Ministry of Sound, followed by one at Fabric from '99 to 2004 too. Pretty crazy run!

So what we have here is his long overdue, first ever commercially released mix, a more than solid deep house set that also inaugurated UK label NRK Sound Division's own landmark Nite:Life series as well. Nite:Life would go on to total 20 mixes in all between the years of 2000 and 2004, with contributions to it coming from some of the world's most respected DJs at the time, including Terry Farley, Ian Pooley, Joey Negro, Pete Heller, and more.

And among the first four out of five volumes in this series that I've listened to during this little Nite:Life foray that I've been on over the past week and a half or so, I'd have to say that this one is definitely the second-best, with Canadian Nick Holder's Nite:Life 05 firmly holding the top spot. But two tracks in particular that end up making this mix well worth a listen are LA native David Alvarado's 1999 song, "Klugh," and UK one-off duo Oil's 2000 tune, "The Future."

Nestled in the middle of this set between the soft rumble of Aaron-Carl's "My House" and the tribal sound of Pure Science's "Rydym," "Klugh" is this pretty mesmerizing slice of sublimity that supplies a sweet, single line of hand-drumming through a shimmery cloud of atmospheric, packet-lossy strings, with little, quiet bits of melody poking their way through too. It's really such a terrific, soul-piercing groove 😌.

And then "The Future" makes for an exquisite closer too, with a bunch of hazy dubbiness coating the whole thing for its 8-plus minute runtime, progressively flowing on and on, from a chunky early 90s sound into…well…the future! The fuzzy acid bits fade away and in come some dubby stabs and an aquatic, submerged keyboard melody for us to serenely glide on out to, as the club doors open and we're greeted by the sunrise ☀️.

I should also mention that some of the blending on here is really good as well; just because your music player might indicate that the track has officially changed, it's still gonna be a while before that song actually fully manifests itself.

And we now go live to ESPN analyst Kendrick Perkins for his take on this particular aspect of Jon Marsh's Nite:Life Volume:01:

Where does Vince Ailey's "The Joint" end and Louis Cypher's "Blurred Response" begin?

Thank you, Perk!

(Hopefully some of you get this very stupid joke I just made 🙏).

Anyway, don't know why it took so long for Jon Marsh to finally release his first mix after beginning his residency at a place like Ministry of Sound around six years prior, but look at the series he managed to kickstart with it! Pretty big deal, and a nice mix, overall. It stagnates a little here and there, but some of these tracks and extremely slow and gradual transitions are still very lovely to hear.

Listen to the full mix here.

Highlights:

Sirus - "Big Ben" DJ Spen - "Craze at Midnight" LoSoul - "Open Door" David Alvarado - "Klugh" Louis Cypher - "Blurred Response" Oil - "The Future"

[wosofutbolfan]

I Would Climb Every Mountain With You (Teaser)

Alexia Putellas x Reader fluff fic.

A complete vanity project.

I know all anyone wants is angst fest When Somebody Loved Me pt 2 but I love nothing more than hiking and this silly idea popped into my head and I wanted to flex my fluff muscles.

Wanted to put a small teaser out here to see if its worth exploring. Any feedback greatly appreciated!

You shoved the last of your gear into your duffel, relishing in the zipping sound that pierced the silence of your sparsely occupied apartment.

This was a quick turn around, even for you.

You were back home for your nans 82nd birthday and to catch up with your friends and family.

You’d barely been back on UK soil for 18 hours, in your Cumbria flat for only 15, when you got a call offering you a trip as a tour guide in the Pirineus Aragonese, otherwise known as the Spanish Pyrenees, for 3 nights.

Usually you’d ignore such a request at this point in your career but for a 3 day trip there were more 0’s than you would expect on the pay packet.

Too many to refuse.

You were one of the best in the business, so trampling around the low level bases of a fairley commercial mountain range was a bit novice for you.

These days you find yourself in the thin air over 6000 meters, or in a remote rainforest, or trekking through the Sahara, guiding millionaire white men who made the move from being armchair adventurers to have-a-go adventurers in the very safe manner which your expertise offered.

You did it because those IT consultants, those bankers, those surgeons, paid well.

Very well. 

Well enough to fund your explorations.

To go to those heights that really drove you. 8000 meters. The death zone. Where the air was so thin you couldn't stay long or your brain would lose oxygen.

Or the Amazon, making contact with a tribe to warn them of encroaching foresters.

Or to the arctic. To witness the last of the planet untouched by man.

As you shut the door behind yourself, barely even checking it locked.

Fuck. You think, as you download the boarding pass sent to you. 

Your mum was going to kill you. 

But god. You loved the outdoors. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I hate the outdoors!”

Alexia growled smacking a hand against her forearm, trying in vain to swat the midgie which was trying to make her blood its next meal. She hated the high pitched zoom that traveled past her ear as it moved back through the mini bus to try and find a more peaceful meal out of one of her teammates.

“We know Ale…” a tired voice from next to her groaned “you’ve mentioned it once, twice. Maybe a thousand times.” Mapi rolled her head off of her girlfriend's shoulder where she had been in a light doze. Interrupted by her captain's loud complaints.

“I’m just saying.” Alexia continued to grumble “I don’t know why Jona is making us do this. Team Bonding? We are a very bonded team already! I make you all pancakes on sundays!”

Mapi rolled her eyes at the blondes protests. She’d heard all of this before since Jona had announced the 3 day team bonding trip at the start of pre season. She could recite Alexia's complaints by heart.

“I’m excited.” She shrugs, eyes cast over her girlfriend who had moved to nuzzle into her side.

“Traidora” The captain replies, eyes gazing out of the fast moving countryside out of the window. She felt worse and worse the more they moved away from the city into the endless empty space around her. She could feel civilization leaving her grasp as the bars of signal went down on her phone. “You’ve been brainwashed by your nordic girlfriend.” She lets out simply.

Ignoring Mapis' offended scoff and dodging the light slap sent her way.

“Behave Maria.” A tired voice let out, without opening their eyes. Like a school child who had been told off, the tiny defender backs down and settles back into her girlfriend's shoulder. And if Alexia sticks her tongue out at her like a toddler then well. Who can prove it?

“God” she thought to herself as she settled her head back against the vibrating glass, starting a mental countdown of when she would return to her city center apartment  “I hate the outdoors.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[banepenis]

Anyone else noticed this?

I really don't quite know how to formulate words to convey what I'm talking about in a way that doesn't make me sound like the most boring, shit-headed navelgazer, but, it's one of those things that, like, it's that nagging tiny bit of confusion that just won't go away, you're like waiting for that moment where you open the fridge door and suddenly just go "OH, I GET IT", but it hasn't arrived yet and it's looking less and less likely that it's ever going to happen, so, might as well send out my thoughts in the vain hope that someone can explain this to me. Still pisses me off just how much of a stupid thing to get this borderline obsessed over this is, but, man, I'm desperate.

So, like, basically everyone is familiar with the varying stages of, like, product placement in various places, and publicity stunts that every corp does from the tiniest startup to the huge giants who get sway in global politics. Like Mr. Peanut dying of septicaemia and then age regressing into a nutlet and then getting over it. The Mountain Dew-centric The Walking Dead episode. That one male BPD movie that was an elaborate commercial for Kraftwerk. The UK bread brand Hovis pivoting into beer and doing the annoying yeast connection and then getting it incorporated into the third season of Succession for all the alcoholism scenes. TF2 crossover items. It shows up in the weirdest ways, and sometimes it's "Char Aznable car" funny, sometimes it's sneaker war crimes. Gut punches and tummy ticklers.

Anyway, uh, I was with a few friends, playing the new Don't Starve Together special event. It's like a, I dunno some sort of "oh people are playing this game again, time to do a welcome back event to keep 'em coming" kind of thing, whatever, it's kind of neat, no weird season pass things just some cool largely aesthetic-only events that you can see if you frot a bush too weird. So like, I'm foraging, kind of just waiting around for everyone else to finish up with their really important thing they're doing, since I'd already finished up my chores like a handsome cherub of a boy boy, and I notice I pick up an item I haven't seen before. Some sort of junk, kind of thing you can probably refine into some basic resource, but I look at it, right? It's a can of Coca Cola. Like, unambiguously. Except, like, it doesn't say Coca Cola on it? Or even like, Coke? It just says "COLA'S" on it. That's weird, like, I heard they got this kind of brand deal, but why would they then just completely fake it for the joke, like McDoneits? And like. It's not uncommon to put references to things in item descriptions, it's cute sometimes. I read over this Coke can's description over and over again and I just can't fucking parse it. It just says, "WITH OR WITHOUT, CAN YOU TAKE IT?" It's some completely bullshit, absurd, over-the-top creepypasta "hyperrealistic blood from the eyes" type wording. Never seen it before.

So I like, look it up, boolean my DuckDuckGo searches, safe search off just in case, and it, like, takes me to just the regular old Coke website. On the front page, where they've got their current events and whatnot usually, it's just this huge diatribe about this new, "healing, feedback-responsive" re-branding effort they're doing? Which, first of all, makes no fucking sense. Like, the Pepsi UNIVERSE thing, where that one guy just went cummy about that peculiar and homely sphere, was unfathomable, but there was something comprehensible about it. And the time that the 7-Up Insurgency Split-off company made weird new flavors in celebration of their new creative freedoms like "CHERRY HELL" and "BLUE PINEAPPLE" and "CANDLEJACK SAUCE" and "TOP SHOT NASTY", a little unsettling, sure, but there have been weirder things. Like binky-inspired Victims of Communism merch you can buy to support your favorite loser and go sucksuck. "COLA'S" is just someone pretending to be excited the product, and they made it the new name of their whole company.

Whatever, I think, you know, I really don't care about what they do with their canned beverages and their skins, I won't be hocking any more or less loogies into strangers' cans while they're distracted by my long and awesome length, it really doesn't affect me. But nobody else is talking about this. It's, like, right on the website. I asked my friends, who I was gaming with in our TeamSpeak 3 polycule server (I'm not a part of any of that but like I'm cool so I get the member's pass) and they said they hadn't seen the item, so when they get back from chewing the cud I give it to them, and they pass it around like a biscuit, and they go "huh, weird". Completely reasonable reaction, the one I wish I could have had. I tell them this is apparently just the new great venture for Coke. They call me a retard, and it harms me a lot more than I made obvious because like, whatever, who cares? And I like, log onto my computer, and I send them screenshots of the Coke website. They call me a dumbass, it's fake, which humor man X account did I get this one from, when did I make this, dude we were gone for like five minutes what's your issue, you're pushing this way too hard. So I give them the link. They see it and then they go "okay". EUREKA! THANK GOD THEY UNDERSTOOD ME! WHAT WOULD I FOR MORE HAPPY!! But they kind of just leave it at that, they don't have much of an opinion about shit. That's why I'm not in the polycule, you know? Because I care.

Cut to the next day, we're not gaming anymore, I turned off your computer, I'm waking up from my new nightmare where no matter what I do I just can't stop that rat fuck Marley & Me from dying. I'm on my plane to my job at the biggest train on the country, I'm the one they let drive the train because I'm frequently the one so savant enough to track which button I have to push or lever I have to tug like a senior's pud to make the fuel squirt, the wheels whirl, the tracks widen, my fingers happen, the house on the other end of the house, and the pessengers hear my voice so I can tell them about the foods available at every station we'll be stopping at. Obviously I start my day at a train station, one of the ones at the very end, where the train is sheathed. First shift isn't until 20 minutes from now, so I'm just waddling around like a detective, get to see the guys who get paid to salivate on the walls so all the posters stick. Say hey, how're you doing, quite the weather to have, right? Yeah yeah, they say, kind of brushing me off like I'm a wasp but I slick back my wet hair and take it so cool. See the posters they're currently lubing up with tongue and buds.

It's a Coca Cola poster. An "old" one. Just completely normal. It's got "HAVE A COKE WITH THRUPPENCE" on it, like the good old days. I can hardly contain my anger. So I grab this guy by theHey guys does anyone have any recollection of this one TV show were it was, like, it wasn't Too Many Cooks, it was about these two guys where one of them was really, really huge, and the other one was about as tiny as a regular old thumbtack. I don't remember a damn thing about any of it, I'm pretty sure they just fucked around with recipes? Like one of them made a huge loaf of cake and the other one made a tiny little slab of cake instead, because he's approximately the size of a man if he were scaled exactly proportionately down to about two inches with like a ray gun or something. Heh. So like these chefs were, I think one of them could fly? I'm pretty sure it was the big guy who could fly and the small one could hop into one of his folds and travel around the world, helping people solve their cooking conundrums wherever they may end up. I don't think any of the lore of the show was all that well established in the show, they had too much action to get out of the way, it really sometimes did feel like they just, HAPPENED to show up at the place where someone gummed up their grandma's special recipe cup of spum. It really wouldn't surprise me if these charlatans were responsible for cursing all of these cooking appliances so they could engage in heroic deeds to spread their fame and famous, they really did seem like opportunists. Pinstripe personified. A real barberslop quartet.

At last, it's whatever, I'm completely spent, it's like, every single day for months and months goes like this, nobody's believing me, acting like I'm some kind of guy who cried hello, telling me like my information is at war because I'm conspiring about something stupid, it's just another day in the life of a monosexual. I'm getting the plane home and I have my check in hand, with all of those sweet, sweet dollars in my hands, the sweat from my palms is making the ink run but that's how I like it, give those thankless fuckheads at the bank something to challenge themselves with during their workday, I see them, always on my phone, looking at TEXTS, useing YOUBE. Yutube I mean. God, what would you do without me. You're kind of weird for ordering oinge juice with ice though, by the way. And your hair is dripping into my food. So, anyway, as I was saying, cokes just tugging my rump all the time with this shit. I don't wanna start going ME ME ME about everything but I'm fucking APPARENTLY the only guy in the world who knows anything about this, even though it's RIGHT FUCKING THEIR, and the COLA COMPANY, who is basicly like your teacher if you've lived in America, is just changing itself so weirdly and not even the lowest common denominator social meteor jokester is willing to go "uh, THIS just happened" about it. I can't fucking stand it, man! You can't just, do this to a guy. I'm fucking sick to my stomash. God. Oh, yeah, hey, waiter, any idea how long my mancakes will arrive? "Did I say pancakes", is that what you said? Yeah, that's what I said. Boing. Right, where was I, what are we here for... ah yeah, so like, I heard this Formula 1 thing is going well. Is that like a new thing? It seems really cool, nothing way cooler than a bunch of latex clad dudes sucking as fast as they can in big lead chambers of invisible fire. You think I could get into that? Like, I got my license when I was younger, zero points on it, I think there's no way that they can just refuse a guy fWait hold on what was that I said earli

[stephensmithuk]

A Case of Identity

This is the third story to be published.

A page boy was a young servant, frequently training to become a footman, who did 'light' odd jobs, like passing messages and opening the door for visitors.

The Duchess of Devonshire was a Georgian socialite, activist and fashion icon, among many other things. Her distinct hat style was immortalised in a Gainsborough portrait.

Typewriters were commonplace in offices by this point, having been available commercially since 1870.

Tottenham Court Road is now an array known for high-end shops, not plumbers.

Domestic gas appliances were becoming far more common by this point due to increased supplies of piped gas in urban areas

Arranging for mail to be left until called for is called Poste Restante in the UK and General Delivery in the US. It is still available, although the mail is only kept for a limited time.

The St Pancras Hotel is likely the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel, which is still present at the railway station of the same name.

Hansom and other taxi cabs were registered with the police at this time and are now regulated by Transport for London. Drivers are expected to have a near-perfect knowledge of central London, called "the Knowledge".

"Making love" meant flirting, not sex, but in any event, this is the skeeviest denoument we've yet encountered. It's not incest, but still, as Alexis Rose would say: Ew.

Breach of promise remained a tort in England and Wales until 1970; the last prominent defendant was footballer George Best in 1969, sued by Eva Haraldsted. The matter was settled out of court, with Best paying her 500 pounds, but it would not be the troubled legend's last lot of legal problems.

[feckcops]

These nuns helped the homeless until they showed up on their doorstep

“Among the first things he did after securing the building was pin his details to the front door so that the owners could contact him to discuss the terms and length of their stay. A couple of days later, he got a call: it was Brian Kervick, property surveyor for the Union of the Sisters of Mercy of Great Britain (USMGB). The group was in luck, Bill thought ...

“A couple of months after Kervick called, the police paid a visit to AWS, saying they’d had information from the owners that the building was residential (UK squatting law permits the squatting only of non-residential buildings). After Bill explained that the building was in fact a mixed-use commercial building, the officers left, seemingly satisfied. The AWS organisers were therefore confused when, in late April, they got a letter from the Met, threatening them with arrest if they didn’t leave within 21 days ...

“After absorbing the shock of the letter, the shelter dealt with it in the way anarchists do best: by throwing a party. Last week, AWS hosted a packed schedule of events, from queer bash back (self-defence and de-escalation techniques) to parkour, culminating in a street party last Saturday. They toured locals around the building, dispelling myths about squatters and sharing the work they’d been doing ... The threat of eviction seems to have subsided for now: after a meeting with AWS organisers, Tower Hamlets mayor Lutfur Rahman wrote to the police telling them to back off ...

“As its name suggests, the Autonomous Winter Shelter has significantly outlived its own life expectancy. As residents brace for a court battle, the shelter is training them to be – as its name also suggests – autonomous: to scout and open squats of their own ...

“Relying on neither the church nor the state’s help, this group of anarchists is doing it for themselves; ‘we take care of us,’ says M. In fact, suggests Scribbles, ‘I think the government should look at us as a model for how stuff should be done.’”

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

The most misspelled word in English is separate.

The average speed of ejaculation is 28 miles per hour.

The favourite food of Adélie penguins is Jellyfish genitals.

The United States is the world's largest exporter of sperm.

Around 20% of AirPod owners wear them while having sex.

Tom Cruise divorced all 3 of his wives when they were aged 33.

Mariah Carey employs a man to walk backwards in front of her.

Men are 6 times more likely to be struck by lightning than women.

In the UK you can join the army at 16 but have to be 18 to play Call Of Duty.

Human pollution has caused the average length of polar bear penises to shrink.

One in five doner kebabs in the UK poses a “significant” threat to public health.

You aren’t allowed to warm your balls during a round of golf but you can before you start.

The average four-year-old laughs 300 times a day. The average 40-year-old laughs four times a day.

In the late 1980s, officials in India released 25,000 turtles into the Ganges to eat dead bodies.

There are as many Russian agents in London today as there were at the height of the cold war.

Research by MIT suggests that humans can only cope with a maximum of five close friends.

The city of Regina in Canada was forced to apologise after adopting the slogan, “Show us your Regina”.

Collectively, humans have watched Adam Sandler movies on Netflix for longer than civilisation has existed.

Swearing on the Bible is theologically problematic as the New Testament forbids the taking of oaths.

In 2017, six Chinese officials were punished for falling asleep in a meeting about how to motivate lazy bureaucrats.

According to the Vatican, you can reduce the time you spend in purgatory by following the Pope on Twitter.

The average office employee who works an eight-hour day is productive for just two hours and 23 minutes, according to a UK study.

Studies have found patients spend fewer days recovering in hospital if they have a window looking out into natural scenes.

Private jets fly higher than commercial ones, partly so they can avoid bad weather and give their passengers a smoother ride.

King Zhou of Shang (1075-1046 BC) built a wine lake in China and made naked men and women chase each other round in it.

45% of Americans admit to having worn the same pair of underwear for two or more days in a row, with men more likely to do so.

Karl Marx is a very famous historical figure, however hardly ever mentioned is his wife, Onya, who invented the starting pistol.

In a UK poll of things that people most associate with Easter, Jesus came in fourth place after chocolate eggs, bank holidays and hot cross buns.

Last year in Ireland, a woman was hospitalised with ‘extreme stomach pain’ caused by years of holding in farts around her boyfriend.

Key In Lock Syndrome is the name for the phenomenon when you start needing a pee as soon as you get home and put your key in the front door.

Until 1961, the New York Times had a full stop in its logo. It was dropped partly because they realised that removing it would save $600 a year in ink.

The founder of IKEA reused teabags and was known to steal salt and pepper packets from restaurants. He was worth approx. £50 billion at the time of death in 2018.

Researchers from Essex and Berlin’s Humboldt Universities have discovered that drugs and alcohol do not make you more creative, they just make you think you are.

Gibraltar was besieged 14 times between 1309 and 1779. As a result, “toasting the siege of Gibraltar” is an old naval expression for having a drink without reason, as there’s a decent chance it’s an anniversary.

To reduce cleaning costs, Amsterdam Airport printed pictures of flies inside urinals, thinking men would aim at the flies while using the bathroom, reducing the amount of urine landing outside the urinals. Their plan worked.

The British Airforce invented the myth that eating carrots can help you see in the dark during WWII. They were trying to explain how British air raids were so successful without telling the Germans about the existence of radar.

DMX avoided a maximum jail sentence for tax fraud when his lawyer played his song ‘Slippin'’ for the judge to demonstrate X's struggles and how bad his upbringing was. The judge considered it and gave a one-year sentence instead of max five years.

Phoebe Waller-Bridge has, since 2019, earned nearly $60M under her deal with Amazon Studios, despite not producing any content for the platform. The plan was for Phoebe Waller-Bridge to collaborate with Donald Glover on a ‘Mr And Mrs Smith’ series, based on Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's 2005 film but, within a few months, she departed. Amazon recently renewed her three-year deal, at $20 million a year.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

[coochiequeens]

It is reasonable to think a man saying he wants to be a single father because he doesn’t want a relationship should prompt some investigation by someone expert in child welfare about his emotional capability to parent alone.“

Infertility can be deeply painful. There is a lot a compassionate society can – and should – do to make fertility treatment available to those who can be assisted to have a child with medical intervention. Few would disagree though that there are ethical boundaries to this, shaped by children’s interests, not just adult desires.

Last week, the Law Commission drove a coach and horses through that moral frontier – which it framed as an overdue modernisation of the law – by publishing draft proposals to reform the UK’s surrogacy framework. Implicit in them is the, I suspect controversial, assumption that a single man seeking to have a child alone through surrogacy, because he doesn’t want or can’t maintain a committed relationship, presents no greater moral quandary than a couple seeking IVF. How controversial is anyone’s guess: the Law Commission hasn’t canvassed public attitudes.

Surrogacy is the practice of a woman conceiving, gestating and giving birth to a baby – using her own or donor eggs – for another couple or individual who can’t do so themselves. The UK is one of few countries in which it is lawful. There are important safeguards intended to guard against exploitation: surrogates can only be compensated for reasonable expenses, to try to ensure their motivations are altruistic, not financial. The surrogate is legally the child’s mother until the intended parents are granted a parenting order by the family courts, if and only if they deem it is in the child’s best interests.

Surrogacy remains small-scale in the UK: just 300-400 orders are granted a year, limited by the number of women who want to become surrogates. But in countries like the US and Georgia, where commercial surrogacy is legal – where economically vulnerable women can be paid to carry a baby and surrogacy is governed by legally enforceable contracts that the UN special rapporteur on child exploitation says constitute the sale of children – it is bigger business. In contrast, the UK legal framework tolerates surrogacy but does not actively encourage it.

The Law Commission has recommended wholesale reform that makes the surrogacy process more akin to IVF. It proposes a new “pre-conception” pathway, governed by a surrogacy agreement, in which the intended parents automatically become the legal parents of the child at birth unless the surrogate withdraws consent before birth. The family courts will no longer oversee these arrangements unless the surrogate applies for a parental order in the first six weeks after birth. Instead, surrogacy will be pre-approved by surrogacy agencies, in the same way fertility clinics sign off on IVF. The commission makes sweeping – but unevidenced – claims that this is in the best interests of children and that because it reduces uncertainty, it will increase the amount of surrogacy that happens in the UK by discouraging people from making use of more exploitative regimes abroad.

There are some positive aspects to the proposals: tighter regulation of expense payments to avoid surrogacy being commercialised through the back door; everyone involved would have to undergo counselling. Children would have the right to access information about their surrogate in the same way as those conceived using donor sperm or eggs.

But in adopting a starting point that surrogacy is just another form of assisted conception, the Law Commission has gone beyond its remit. It reduces pregnancy to a process, a transactional exchange of body fluid between a woman and a foetus rather than a relationship between a mother and the life she is nurturing physically and emotionally, that there are ethical considerations involved in breaking at birth, regardless of the desires of the individual adults involved. It is for us as a society to decide whether we want the law to actively encourage rather than tolerate this, not for the Law Commission to make recommendations without even exploring public attitudes.

The Law Commission report is peppered with imagined case studies that invoke sympathy: straight couples where a woman can’t carry a pregnancy and gay male couples who see surrogacy as their only way to have a biological child. But a better ethical test is the men who openly say they want to become fathers through surrogacy because they would rather be single parents. There would be few barriers to them doing so.

This encapsulates the extent to which the Law Commission proposals are catering to the desires of adults with a vested interest in surrogacy – however valid their reasons – over and above child welfare. It proposes a light-touch welfare check as part of the pre-conception pathway, but this would rely in the main on potential parents self-declaring issues of concern and would be carried out by surrogacy agencies that though not-for-profit would still have an interest in making surrogacy happen; the Law Commission itself suggeststhat private fertility clinics can set up not-for-profit “arms” to act as surrogacy agencies. It explicitly declines to say that the person legally responsible for these checks should have knowledge or experience of child safeguarding. These surrogacy agencies would supposedly be regulated by the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority, which lacks meaningful expertise in child welfare. It is all jaw-droppingly naive.

The counter is that there are only light checks for women and couples conceiving through IVF and nothing for people who become parents naturally. But surrogacy is the only route through which a single man as a sole parent can create a biological child.

Gestation is a natural if not fail-safe form of safeguarding in a world where a minority of men are responsible for almost all physical and sexual violence and men on average pose a different risk to children than women. This isn’t to say some single men who want to go it alone might not make good fathers – single men can and do adopt successfully after robust welfare checks – but that it should be harder than getting signed off for IVF.

It is reasonable to think a man saying he wants to be a single father because he doesn’t want a relationship should prompt some investigation by someone expert in child welfare about his emotional capability to parent alone.

At the heart of the Law Commission proposals is the assumption that surrogacy should be made cleaner to the benefit of the adults involved. But surrogacy is inherently messy, uncertain and ethically complex, because no one has a claim to a baby they haven’t given birth to purely on the basis of genetics and pregnancy cannot be reduced to a transaction.

The Law Commission loftily calls for the government to “endorse these essential reforms”. But on an ethical issue such as this it is vital that politicians consult the public rather than taking direction from a legal body that has grossly overstepped its remit.

 Sonia Sodha is an Observer columnist

 This article was amended on 5 April 2023. In an earlier version the writer commented that the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority (HFEA) “has no expertise in child welfare”. This has been amended to “lacks meaningful expertise” to make clearer that, while the HFEA has a statutory function in overseeing “welfare of the child” assessments required of fertility clinics, this is the writer’s assessment of the agency’s overall expertise in child welfare and safeguarding. The name of the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority has also been corrected.