#and when I say they need more grass I don't mean a manicured lawn I just mean scraggly normal grass that you do nothing to

[eirianerisdar]

For the director's commentary thing: I would love a director's commentary for Icarus on what went on in Red Bull HQ after Daniel came back, specifically when he went on the sim for the first time and it all went so horribly wrong- what happened that we didn't see in the story afterwards, how did Simon and the rest of the team cope? And how did Max react when he came back, did Daniel or Christian tell him what had happened?

Hahaha this is asking more for a Director's outtake rather than commentary, but I don't mind.

For the unaware, Icarus is a platonic maxiel wingfic where Daniel is pressured into trimming his wings for speed in McLaren, and has a long, slow fall before anyone notices. Much Maxiel angst and hurt/comfort and fluff.

Have an outtake from Max's POV that would have slotted directly after chapter 28 of Icarus:

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It's late when Max reaches Christian's country estate at last. He guns his engine and takes the imposing driveway up to the mansion at twice the proper speed limit, manicured trees blurring past on either side.

He's probably ruining the cobblestones. He doesn't give a fuck.

He should've insisted they delay Daniel's sim session until his flight landed. He should've-

Max steps back from the door, his hand smarting. He hadn't planned on banging at the door like that. He'd planned on ringing the doorbell. But every fibre of him is screaming for his flock; his wings feel like they are on fire.

One of the house staff opens the door. "Mr Verstappen-"

Max shoulders his way past. He's probably being rude but he doesn't care.

A moment, where he stands in the cavernous, marbled entryway, with sweep of the grand staircase up to the second floor and heavy oak doors leading in every direction.

Daniel. Where's-

"Max," a voice calls softly. "You're here."

Geri. Max snaps towards her. "Where's-"

"They're in the garden," Geri says, tilting her head towards the back of the house. "I think Daniel's alseep." She doesn't seem to mind the dirt Max is tracking into her house. But maybe she has people for that.

Max moves through the house like a dream. Entryway, living area, kitchen; through a set of french glass doors and into the back garden. The garden itself is dim, but there is a bonfire in the fire pit casting the grass in ruddy reds and yellows. Silhouetted in the flickering light are two winged figures - one with golden eagle wings crouching to tend to the fire, the other bundled in a blanket on a lawn chair, bandaged macaw wings painted sanguine by the light of the fire.

Daniel.

Christian stands as Max rapidly approaches. "Shh," he says quietly, holding a finger to his lips. "He's sleeping."

Max's ignores him. He drops to his knees next to Daniel's lawn chair, reaches out with a shaking hand to brush Daniel's curls out of his face.

Daniel looks paler than when Max saw him last a week ago. The firelight makes the shadows under Daniel's eyes look bruised.

Daniel shifts in his sleep, leans into Max's touch. Even in sleep there is pain on his face.

Max twists to look over his shoulder at Christian.

"Explain," he says accusingly. He needs to understand.

Christian had promised he wouldn't force Daniel's healing wings into the sim before they were ready. Christian had promised that the team would treat Daniel with the care and respect he deserved after what that other team had done to him. After he'd almost lost his wings.

"He reopened his wounds in a couple of places," Christian says. His eyes are fixed on Daniel's bandaged wings. "But the hospital said he'd be okay. They've stitched him up."

"What the fuck does that mean," Max hisses. "How did it even happen?"

Christian puts up his hands. "Simon tells me he pushed himself," he says. "Went through the break without stopping, and he wanted to get back in the sim so we could perfect the setup for Brazil-"

"Fuck off," Max hisses. "Don't - don't fucking tell me he was bleeding into the sim and nobody noticed."

Christian looks at him. There is grief and guilt in Christian's eyes, but over it all, bitter, seething fury.

"Max," he says. "None of us noticed for a whole fucking year."

All the air is punched out of Max's chest.

It's true. Max hadn't noticed his own flock slowly fading to nothing as Daniel hid his trimmed wings from the world. Max hadn't noticed Daniel entering a wing crisis that fateful week before Monza, either.

Daniel shivers under Max's palm. His breath comes short against Max's knuckles.

Max takes a slow, shuddering breath, takes up Daniel's hands in his own to warm them. They feel like ice in the cold night air, so Max sets a hip on edge of the lawn chair and pulls Daniel into his arms. He wraps his trimmed wing as far as he can around Daniel's shoulders and drops his chin into Daniel's hair.

Daniel relaxes. His breath evens out.

Max inhales, breathes in the warm woodsmoke of Daniel's hair. "I'm taking him home."

Christian frowns. "Don't be ridiculous," he says, and he is Max's boss again, sharp-tongued, effortlessly efficient. "It's late. Geri and I'll put you up."

Max gathers Daniel closer. "I'm taking him home," he says. "Back to my apartment in Milton Keynes. We'll fly back to Monaco in the morning."

Max's apartment in Milton Keynes; the spare room that has slowly morphed into Daniel's, with Enchante merch in the closets and preening brushes in the living room, a place that smells of flock.

Christian rolls his eyes. "Max, don't be-"

"Daniel," Max whispers, pressing his forehead to Daniel's temple. "Daniel, it's time to wake up."

Daniel stirs. He blinks up at Max, brown eyes turned muddy with painkillers.

"Oh," Daniel slurs. He scrabbles at the sleeve of Max's jacket. "Maxy."

"Yeah," Max says. His heart is expanding and shattering at the same time. "It's me. I'm taking you back to my place."

Daniel blinks rapidly as his bandaged wings shift behind him. His face blanches with memory and shame. "I'm sor-"

"No," Max says. "You can apologise later. Let's get out of here."

Christian stares between them. "You're fucking serious," he says disbelievingly. "Both of you."

Max doesn't bother looking at Christian. He pulls Daniel's arm over his shoulders and gets to his feet, dragging Daniel up with him. They make their slow, swaying way back through the house, Daniel's head lolling on Max's shoulder and his breath gusting over Max's chin.

Christian is talking rapidly with Geri now, but Max doesn't care. He brushes aside Geri's well-meaning hands and hoists Daniel down the front steps and into the passenger seat of his car.

"You know what? Fine," Christian is saying from the front door. "I can't stop you two being idiots. Fucking goodnight, then."

"Christian!" Geri admonishes. "Goodnight, Daniel, Max."

Daniel acquiesces for Geri to pat his cheek, and Max shuts the door as soon as Geri steps back. He moves past Christian as he circles the car to get to the driver's seat. Christian doesn't say anything, which is good. Max doesn't want to talk to him.

They pass the stupid marble fountain and pull out of the driveway proper, on past the artificially manicured trees and into the Oxfordshire night.

The motorway is nearly empty this time of night. Max takes up a steady pace towards Milton Keynes.

Daniel wraps his blanket more tightly around himself. Max reaches over wordlessly, threads his fingers through Daniel's.

Daniel sighs as Max's thumb moves over his. His breath evens out slowly, slows into sleep.

Max doesn't let go of Daniel's hand the entire way back.

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For the uninitiated, you can read more of Icarus here!

Send me an ask with a scene or set of lines from any of my fics and I'll give you a director's commentary! Or, send in a ⭐star⭐ to have me select a section I've been dying to talk about!

(This particular ask ended up being an outtake, but director's commentary is more in the vein of explaining choices in wording or scenes, or explaining narrative choices)

[kendylouwhoo]

What cold plunges have taught me about darkness

If cold was dark and warm was light...

The goal isn't to feel cold. It's more like feeling comfortable in coldness. Having reverence for cold is important, because it can kill you and it can make you feel sick, if it's not danced with properly...

When you start out slow, with curiosity, you can change your relationship to it. On a hot day, when you put your feet into a cold river and then take them out, how good does that feel... then look for that feeling when going into the cold water. Notice all the uncomfortably, retraction, not wanting to do it, not needing to change it and ask your body if this is what it wants. At first it feels hard but the more you do it, the easier it gets. When you soak up the moments of bliss when your body feels so good afterwards, more moments like that will come. When you go from hot to cold back and forth, it helps remind yourself that this is safe and you will warm back up. Staying cold could mean death, while being able to find warmth builds trust... and at some point, your body will crave the cold, while also telling you when it's enough. And when your warm, and you feel that freezing cold breeze caress your face, like a lover with an open heart, maybe in the past you retract, because you don't understand it, but now you open into it embracing how fucking amazing it feels.

We don't understand what darkness is, because of how manipulated it's been. We don't understand its gifts because how much we've desperately clung to the light. Like the feminine that's been in hiding for a very long long time... not turning the darkness into light or masculine into feminine... but finding the love in it all with the balance of both. Whats the authentic expression of darkness? It's not hurtting others or ourselves. It's walking the line of uncomfortably to find the truth in both sides. Light has burned us just as much as darkness has drown us. The extremes are distortions of weilding the power of holding both. Swinging left to right to find the middle. People think the middle is boring but I think that's where the magic is.

To keep doing, you need to rest. To rest well you need to do. Holding hands, like two lovers dancing the dance of balance.

Relax into the cold. When darkness comes, be still with it, breath into it, it's not a time to push.

When warmth is in flow, dance and do! That zap of lightning downloading into your brain is a time to go!

When it gets too hot, get hot enough to sweat or time to cool down. When you get too cold, hibernate or warm up.

There are no rules, do whatever the fuck you want! There are only laws, like the law of gravity which may be a bunch of bull shit. And the law of attraction which feels like a bunch of bullshit, you mean I have to love what I hate to make real change? And don't forget the law that says you can't kill someone, even if they are old and ready to move on because their bodies arent working at all and they aren't actually living, and they want to die, but nope, they must stay "alive". And you can also know that nature thrives in balance and so will you. But you know, if you're still swinging that pendulum, the grass isn't greener on the otherside. Maybe it is for minute or two, but ultimately if your growing a fucking lawn you're just going to spend more and more money on it until it fucking dies, so you might as well grow a food forests. Because that side of the pendulum is definitely the only right side. Or ya know, you could just start with a garden. Or just allowing the living beings that are there to be there and not eradicate anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. But like seriously how have we not figured out yet how ridiculous lawns are yet? They take sooo much water, you have to constantly manicure them, they won't be green unless you kill all the weeds and give it nitrogen and like 3 nutrients that then deplete all the other nutrients that then makes the land incapable of sustaining anything, therefore making it co-dependable on some humanbeing who thinks that they are being a good humanbeing by making their yard look green, fucking chemical shit storm...

*me to myself* ok breath... hahaha yeah that one still gets me.

What inside me is a manicured lawn

😂😘

[turtlesandfrogs]

I don't have Lyme disease, and I don't live in an at risk area, but I was curious, so I followed the link. Here's some additional information:

It seems most of the risk is from ticks carried into your yard by white tailed deer and white footed mice. And also ticks apparently like shade and humidity?*

Suggestions to reduce risk include:

Creating a three foot wide woodchip strip between wooded areas and your lawn/ areas that you frequent to deter ticks from migrating toward those areas. This is a point that they kept mentioning, so I guess it's a big one.

Keep your lawn area mowed.

Remove leaf litter, tall weeds, etc from your yard.

Discourage rodent activity. They mention sealing holes, I would imagine this also includes being careful about where and how you compost.

Keep your pets out of the woods. Practically, if you have a cat this means keep it indoors or build a catio.

Plant things deer don't like eating or build a fence. In my experience, they don't like herbs or alliums, and there's lots of ornamental options here. They will munch on native species, but they don't seem to go after them as much as some popular ornamental plants, which seem like deer candy.

Trim trees and shrubs to let in more light. This means you need to know the difference between a thinning cut and a heading cut.

Adopt less water-demanding gardening techniques. Like, let your grass go dormant in the summer and grow plants that can thrive with the rain fall pattern of your area.

The article also says that there's some evidence that creating increased biodiversity through native plantings may decrease the number of ticks. I hope more people look into this and share their findings.

They specifically mentioned pachysandra a few times as a BAD IDEA. I'm curious because this is a fairly tall ground cover- what about shorter ones? Like blue star creeper or creeping thyme or Corsican mint?

They also mentioned using pesticides to create a barrier.

Here's their suggestions for landscape alternatives if you don't want to have a manicured lawn:

This was all news to me, because as I said, the species that carry ticks aren't around here, so I've never had to think about it. I'm really glad it's being brought up, and I think this is a great example of why context matters when it comes to gardening advice.

* I've gotten a tick once in my life, and it was when I was on the other side of the state, which happens to have white tailed deer instead of the black tailed deer we have here. I've never found ticks on any of our animals, except the sheep we had when I was a kid. This is to say, I've almost zero real life experience, I'm just passing on the info I found through that link because in my experience, relatively few people follow links vs read long posts.

you can make posts that are anti lawns and pro biodiversity without downplaying the real, terrible danger that ticks pose