#i was like 'spring has sprung busy season is over for everyone time to make plans and foster my friendships !'

[cartcop]

OHHHH its not my week

[potter-imagines]

Meadow (George Weasley x Reader)

Prompt: Hi, maybe fred or george (you can choose) and the reader are spending the afternoon in a flower meadow together? (sorry for my english, it's not my first language)🙈😊

Notes: okay I'm sure spring break isn't a thing at hogwarts but for this write, it is . hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluff cause everyone loves george

Word Count: 3.5k

Spring break was winding down to a close as early April broke through. New life was brought to fruition as the snow from the harsh winter evaporated into the ground. Outside the grounds of the Weasley’s home were fields and fields of open land. Flowers sprouted in every step creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Those tumbling plains seemed to extend for miles beyond the horizon. Just beyond those grassy hills and slopes was a large, secluded meadow.

It was the early hours of a Saturday morning when a pair invaded the area far before the sun began to rise. The meadow Y/n and George had been occupying seemed to be the perfect location to view the birth of the new season. The perfect spot to enjoy each other’s company. Soon they would be ushered back to Kings Cross and board the Hogwarts Express- George for his last time and Y/n, well it certainly wouldn’t be her last time, no matter how hard she dreamed it was. The topic of George leaving Hogwarts was one the couple tip-toed around. Break was only two weeks but that meant two extra weeks for the pair to be together. With the school year tumbling to an end, George would be leaving school soon with his brother to start his dream and Y/n would be stuck needing to finish her last year at Hogwarts alone. The girl was a year below her boyfriend and although it never caused any friction for the pair, the gap was finally giving them issues.

In George’s mind, arriving to his last school year was both an accomplishment, and a burden. As excited as he was to finally leave those stone walls that held him back, the last thing he wanted was to leave her behind. It didn’t make any of the pain easier knowing that he’d be leaving alongside Fred earlier than the rest of their classmates. Y/n had been the only other living soul Fred and George had filled in on their grand exit plan. They needed someone to keep guard and be a lookout so who better than the one person they trusted not to run their mouth.

There was a heavy smell of earth in the air, mixed with the faint odor of new growth. The vivid green leaves and the cheerful colors of the blossoms are a feast. Flowers popped up from the soiled ground and the fruit hanging from the trees were starting to come to life.

The couple had spent a good portion of their break at the secluded meadow. In a way, it became their little secret spot. Not that it was a secret location by any means. Fred and George had discovered the meadow a few years back when they had ventured miles away from the burrow. The boys were always adventurous, especially when Molly and Arthur finally allowed them free range outside the family home when they were eleven. There were miles and miles of tall grass and woodland that made it easy to get lost. Of course with Fred and George, losing their way was never a worry. When the boys stumbled upon the breathtaking meadow, George seemed to be the only one interested in their find. Fred had wandered off into the section of forest they entered through, his attention captured by a group of baby deer camouflage in the woods. For years George would wander back to the meadow on his own when he needed a break from the loudness of his siblings or grew tired of Ron trailing on his coattails every turn. He promised himself he would keep the spot to himself, let it be his own private sanctuary. This plan ran smooth for a few years before George made the exception to break the rule for one person only.

But for now, the two could only take advantage of the time they had together and they didn’t intend to spend a second apart. It looked as if Y/n and George had stepped straight into a storybook. The grass was Eden-green and thigh-high to a thrush. A neon-blue ribbon of river ran through the ground in a squiggle line. A party of bright yellow ducklings scattered in the calm water, small quacks filling the air. Chirping and sweet songs from the birds made that feeling of Spring become a reality. Buzzing bumble bees and wildflowers sprung along the land. The sounds of nature engulfed the girl whole as she melted into the soft grass.

“I could stay here for the rest of my life- away from people, away from the world. It’s peaceful.” Y/n hummed softly. Her large doe eyes observed the clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the baby blue sky, as if they were boats safely moored in celestial harbour. Peeks of sunlight seeped in through the cracks in the fluffy clouds casting a shimmering light as they danced slowly by in the sky. Just a moment before she was listing off all the animals and objects she saw in the sky. Now she was considering the thought of staring at them forever.

George stole a quick glance down where she laid in his lap. Strands of her h/c hair flowing across his legs and hands. It tickled against his skin as a light breeze swept past. Her abrupt words had caught him off guard. He had missed the sound of her voice for the last hour, although adored the trance-like state of happiness that she was in so he was constantly biting his tongue to keep his thoughts from pouring out. Now that she was somewhat back to earth, he was eager to chat. Tilting his head in her direction George raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” He questioned.

A smile graced her lips as she nodded in confirmation. The land was beautiful, unlike anything she had seen. There certainly weren’t any meadows with such serenity as this in the city of London. For once in her life she could hear the sound of her heart beating in the quietness of the open land and she loved it. No cars honking, no crabby cityfolk shoving their way through crowds, no taxi drivers screaming at pedestrians to move, no bright lights, just nature and all of its creations.

Extending her arm, Y/n pointed out to the land. George followed her direction to see she was gesturing to a small section of the meadow that was surrounded by an eyecatching army of poppies and bellflowers. A large willow tree stood towering over the side. In the middle was a bare section- large enough for a home to fit. Y/n grinned in excitement as she suddenly sat up straight.

“Yeah. Build a little cottage, start a garden, maybe even a family… I think it would be lovely.” She said dreamily. Her eyes looked up to George in wonder, silently asking him to share his opinion. Mirroring her previous actions, George scanned the meadow. He placed his hand against his chin, pretending to think long and hard about her idea. Y/n giggled besides him and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. He chuckled in response and leaned back into the log supporting him. George nodded in agreement to the pondering dream.

There was a casual grace to the meadow, as if it has a peripheral awareness of its own beauty yet would rather be at peace in this warm sun. It was quaint and humble yet glowing in - like a glorious mansion hidden away in a forest. A hidden gem that was to be kept away from the rest of society. Their own little happy place that opened and bloomed just for them. There was something so magical about the meadow that George couldn’t pass it up. It felt like fate leading him there- leading them.

“Think we could make that work. The family part is a definante- it’s just building a home that’ll take a bit of time. We could get started on making a family of our own right now-” George was cut off when a hand clamped over his mouth. Although he was only joking, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

“George-” She warned playfully.

“Or in a few years. But living out here would be nice. ‘S not like I got to worry about commuting for work. It’d be a nice escape from the shop once we get business running, and once you graduate. Not to mention moving out here would mean I’d get to see more of you in that pretty dress. Flowers in your hair... you look so enchanting, darling.” A bashfulness struck Y/n to her core at his words. Her eyes instinctively shot down to the grass as a paint of red rose to her face. George’s heart quite literally stuttered at her reaction. Making her blush, seeing her smile because of something he said never failed to bring a sense of happiness to George. That damn smile, he thought to himself. He was sure she could convince him of anything when that innocent look took over. It was natural for her. Y/n was simply ethereal in every way.

His hand brushed as gently as a feather across the skin of her cheek. Pushing the daisy back in place behind her ear, George drew his hand down from her ear to her neck. Gripping her softly George pulled her towards his body, lessening the space between the pair. Dipping his head he leaned in towards the girl until their lips were only inches apart. He smirked teasingly, ready to make a remark when Y/n took matters into her own hands.

Linking her hand around his chin she pulled his face in hers with a deep kiss. Although she initiated the gesture, it was George’s response that made her lose all sense of control. His large hands moved from her face to her waist in an instant. Much to Y/n’s surprise he lifted her without warning, still holding her lips in his, and placed her in his lap so she was facing him. Her hands instinctively switched to wrap around his neck for stability. Fingers gripped at his short ginger locks as she adjusted her hips into his.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as her entire body got weaker. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, how addictively he invaded all her senses. Everytime their lips met a rush of adrenaline and love ran through her veins. The muscles in her body went limp at his touch, jelly like. George held a tight lock around her waist keeping her steady against him. He slipped his tongue against her mouth, visibly shuddering when she slid her tongue against his in return. Tension was pooling by the second as the kiss intensified. Y/n’s strawberry dress cascaded down the side of legs as she repositioned in his lap earning a groan from George. Hot breath fanned against her face briefly at her movements. His hand darted from the small of her back to the exposed skin on her upper thigh, pushing her further into his body. The vibration of his voice against her lips and the tight grip of his hands on her thighs sent shivers down her spine. His kiss was sweet, like a long awaited embrace. Stars blurred her vision as George gripped her against his chest. The moment was quickly turning into a not so innocent kiss causing Y/n to slowly detach her lips from his. As she pulled away she remained sat in his lap, fingers brushing along the skin of his face as she admired his beauty. A smug smile was displayed on his face while he repositioned his hands behind his body to hold the pair up. Still holding his face in her palms, Y/n pressed forward to scatter a line of kisses on his cheeks. He chuckled in amusement before her kiss latched to his mouth once more. Between short and passionate pecks she fought for words to tell him how much he meant to her. She wanted to tell him all the emotions of love and desire he brought onto her. Tell him how she could never live with another- how he was the only one she wanted for the rest of her life.

“You’re too good to me, George.” She whispered against his lips. The lack of space between them was intoxicating. Heat emanated from George’s cheeks as he desperately attempted to regain his breath and compose himself. His chest was light with air caused by the sweetness of the girl before him. A small smear of glitter lip gloss covered his bottom lip in a shine.

George tasted a hint of bubble gum as his tongue swept along the skin of his bottom lip.

“I’d give you the whole world if I could but I’m afraid I don’t have the coins for that yet, princess.” Pressing his forehead against hers, George hummed the words. Y/n shook her head with a smile as she countered his grand proposition with one of her own.

“All I need is a quaint, cozy cottage out here and you… well a dog or a kitten would be nice too.” She laughed.

George could only stare at her in that moment. Her words registered although the naturalness to her beauty was too much for him to process. The sun hit her back in with such purpose it was as if she were an angel breaking through the sky. Her strawberry midi dress flowed down her sides and pooled in between his legs. Pretty pink satin clung to her form. The sparkling red strawberries fitted her perfectly. The ruffles on her shoulders gave her the look of a cottage princess, a fairy even. Hair flowing freely in the wind, it was a sight he’d never grow tired of seeing. He’d never seen someone as breathtaking as her.

Taking advantage of his silence, Y/n looked up to George in seriousness. His large brown eyes stared lovingly back to her. Gesturing to the meadow surrounding them, Y/n asked him,

“Do you think you’d be happy out here?”

George tore his stare from the girl to scope out the land once more. All the years he spent wandering down here alone in his mind and looking for some sort of answer to life, now he had found it. He could already picture where he would build a playset for the children and where he’d be able to make a small Quidditch pitch to teach your future kids. Ideas were forming for the house and how many rooms you’d both want. George was thinking somewhere around eight- extra room for more kids. Mapped out where the house would go, where he’d build a garden for you, figured out what tree would be perfect for him to put together a treehouse with Fred for the kids, and where the path would go towards the lake. The layout was quickly forming and he wanted in.

Y/n watched in curiosity as the thoughts swarmed through her lover’s head. She could see him intently thinking things over, then smiling before tilting his face back down at the girl. His head moved down so his lips could press against the skin of her forehead as he kissed her.

“Darling, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be more than happy.” He reassured her.

Y/n melted into the warmth provided by his lips. Her body leaned into his, desperate for more of him. George wrapped his arm around her shoulder tightly and fixed his body so he was sitting tall. She clung to his frame like a koala to a tree, burying her face into the material of his hoodie.

“Once I graduate?” Her muffled voice vibrated against his sternum. George ran his fingers up and down her spine as he held her tight.

“Once you graduate.” George repeated sincerely. Although they’d gone over the conversation a million different times, Y/n couldn’t help the shadow of doubts that crept into her mind. She trusted George with all her heart- every inch of her being but they’d be living in two separate worlds for a year and she worried that was something he might not want. Maybe he would realize he wanted to be with a girl his age, or someone older, someone not stuck at Hogwarts. Even without reason for worry, it still came.

Remaining in his hold yet moving back slightly, Y/n’s eyes darted to the flower covered ground. Her fingers ran along the petals absentmindedly as she worked to find the courage to speak. Her shift in emotions did not go unnoticed by the boy. George focused on the look of contemplation adorning her. As adorable as she looked, he hated seeing her in the slightest bit of distress. This went for any situation whether Y/n was stressed about a class, feeling ill, or just sad because she’s hungry, George does everything in his control to fix it for her.

“You’ll wait for me?” The sudden question took George aback. Her tone was a mix of innocence and fear. His confusion arose for the grave manner of her inquiry. Even if her worries were astonishingly unworldly to George, he knew better than to shut down her insecurities brashly. If the topic at hand weren’t so significant to their relationship, he might even crack a joke. However the seriousness in her features was not to be ignored.

George reached out to interlock his fingers through her warm hands. That comforting smile of his graced his face as he brought her knuckles up to his lips and placed a trial of kisses along the bones.

“Of course I’ll wait, love. No other girl I’d want to spend the rest of my life with- no other girl I want to call my wife, the mother of my children. No one but you, my love.” George insisted. It seemed magical to Y/n the way he always knew exactly what to say. Always so heartfelt and honest in meaning. He never told her a lie to make her happy but somehow managed to piece together a perfect string of words to make her whole again. Something in the way he spoke, in his words, it made her believe nearly anything was plausible. Most of all, she trusted him and believed that he had every intention of sticking around, which brought a sneaking grin to Y/n’s face. All those worries washed away at his words. It was a part she loved deeply about him.

The feeling of George’s touch smoothing over the bottom of her pink dress pulled Y/n back to the meadow. The scent of lavender and vanilla wafted past his nose from the perfume he had gifted her for Christmas. His fingers would skim against her bare leg in a teasing fashion as he smirked. Y/n let out a giggle at the tickling sensation of his touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck for support while her bashful grin never ceased.

“There’s that pretty smile.” George remarked with a chuckle. A sense of victory took hold of him at seeing her worries vanish. Arms locked around his neck, Y/n pulled him towards her as her head fell to his chest. Given their limited time, all the couple wanted to do for the next month was be in each other’s arms. George cherished every opportunity he got to hold her, knowing he’d spend the next year missing her everyday. It came in the little things as well like the way her hair always smelled like a basket of delicious fruits, or how she’d hum to herself while they were studying together. He already knew he’d spend most days babbling on to Fred about how much he missed Y/n. Break was almost over which meant the twins would be leaving Hogwarts for good within a few weeks. Y/n dreaded the idea of not seeing George every day, not getting to kiss him or hug him. George hated thinking about having to hear from her through letters and not getting to hear that sweet laughter every day. So for now, all George wanted was to hold his girl and enjoy the excitement for their future he felt budding inside of him.

The colors in the sky were starting to grow brighter by the minute and without saying it, the pair both knew they’d be needing to head back to The Burrow for lunch sooner then they’d care to admit. In the serenity of the meadows the couple found a sense of home. Y/n soaked in their last bits of time in the meadow before George mentioned them heading back. Although neither moved at his words but instead remained holding onto one another.

“I love you, George.”

“I love you more, princess.”

[ragnarachael]

Spring Has Sprung

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 2,883

Summary: Spring Break meant coming home and running away from your problems for a week or two. However, the second Peter Parker comes to your place to crash for a few days, you figure out that your problems followed you into the comfort of your own home. (request)

Author’s Ramblings: hello and welcome to rachael is getting her shit together and churning out all of the requests she has! this is one of four that i’ve got on the roster, and hopefully this productivity stays for a hot minute so i can get all this content out for y’all! stay safe and i hope you enjoy!!

Warnings:  reader and peter get a lil spicy... but papa tony makes it 1000x more embarrassing for all of them before anything gets too crazy. READER AND PETER ARE 18+ COLLEGE STUDENTS!

MASTERLIST !  FEEDBACK !

“Mom?” You called out just as you got out of the driver’s side of your car, keys that were attached to your lanyard being shoved into your back pocket.

Morgan was first to pop her head up from where she was helping Pepper garden when she heard you shout before squealing your name and abandoning her work to rush to where you stood for a hug.

“Mo!” You exclaimed, laughing as you squatted down to her height to wrap your arms around her and scoop her up into a hug.

“You’re back!”

“Of course I am!” You exclaimed as you stood up straight, hugging her tightly into your chest, “it’s Spring Break!”

You and Morgan laughed together as Pepper caught up, a wide smile on her face as she worked on pulling her gloves off.

“How was the ride over?”

“Nothin’ I couldn’t handle.”

“You know you could’ve called—”

“Mom, I’m perfectly capable of driving myself to and from campus,” you replied sternly. Pepper didn’t hesitate to roll her eyes fondly and pull you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your head.

“I know that. But it’s just you drive like your father—”

“I do not!”

Morgan tried to pull her head from where it was trapped between yours and Pepper’s. “You do!”

You gasped and pulled away from Pepper slightly to let Morgan’s head out. “Excuse me? I drive like Dad?”

“Hey! Take that as a compliment, champ,” Tony shouted from the porch of the house, using his prosthetic hand to wipe off his real hand. “You drive great!”

“See!” You exclaimed, moving to put Morgan down after Pepper let you go. “I drive great.”

After properly greeting your father once you met him at the porch, you were quick to unpack your stuff from your car and start helping around where you could. Whether it be helping Tony tinker with something he was working on in the shed, or helping Morgan learn weed the garden while Pepper planted more fruits and vegetables.

Once you cleaned up from gardening, you convinced Morgan to draw you something for your dorm room while you offered to help with dinner for the night.

That's how you ended up in the kitchen with Pepper and Tony when there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it, it's probably the kid—"

"Wait, kid as in Peter?" You questioned suddenly from your position next to your mother, rolling up your sleeves so you could get ready to clean off some of the vegetables that were just picked this afternoon. Tony didn't hesitate to let out a yes in response before he disappeared into the hall that led into the foyer.

You took in a deep breath as you slowed rolling your sleeves up. You haven’t seen Peter since the summer, since your so-called.. relationship ended.

Or fling. Since it only really lasted a summer. You don't know what else to really call it.

Pepper said your name softly as she stood next to you, using the empty counter space to pretend she was continuing to prepare the ingredients as you both heard Tony and Peter carry their conversation to the den. You turned your head to look at her before putting on a smile, grabbing the head of lettuce she was passing you. 

"Sorry."

“You're fine, sweetheart," she started softly before you started to do your job rinsing. "Does this have to do with the past summer?” 

You couldn't fight back the sigh that passed your lips, making sure the running water got between the leaves of the lettuce. 

“Would you be shocked if I said yes?”

Pepper snorted softly, the sound of chopping coming from her spot next to you now. "No, I wouldn't."

"Why is he even here? Wasn't he going to be with May so he could see Ned and MJ?"

"Your father thought it'd be nice to give May and Happy some time off from babysitting—"

You let out a groan, throwing your head back as you momentarily stopped cleaning the head of lettuce. "Mooom."

"I know, I know. He's meddling. I told him to stop, but you know how he gets."

"Can I hide his arm again?" You questioned suddenly, checking the rest of the lettuce leaves now to give your eyes something to look at so you didn't try to poke your head out from the archway that led into the den to look and see what was happening. Pepper was definitely scolding you as she gave you a stern no in reply. Part of you wanted to whine like Morgan does when she's told she can't have a popsicle before dinner, but another part of you knew you had to be an adult about this.

Even if you wanted to curl up and die right in this very moment.

You and Pepper worked in quick unison, getting everything for a quick side salad together before you both seperated, Pepper working on the main course while you were tasked with assembling the salad.

"Wait," you started slowly as you started to slice heirloom tomatoes on the cutting board you grabbed, "if May and Happy are out of town, he's just going to stay at their apartment while he's here, doesn't it?"

"I would think so," Pepper replied, starting to grab some seasoning for the chicken she was beginning to work on. "Unless your father's meddling goes deep."

"How deep are we talkin'?"

"Deep enough to where he's staying here until they're back."

"I really hope Dad doesn't hate me that much," you huffed, carefully moving the first set of tomatoes into the bowl where the lettuce was. "He would have consulted you first, obviously."

"Hey, Pep!" Tony shouted from the den just as you finished talking. 

"Yes?" She called back, leaning to her left to look out into the den. You were trying to pay attention until you heard Morgan running down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Hey, little miss!" You exclaimed as you tried to focus on cutting, "what'cha need, jelly bean?"

"I can't find my markers," she huffed, glancing at the countertops as she stood in the middle of the kitchen. "I'm so close to finishin' the drawing and I can't finish it without them."

"Check the den? If they're not there I'll let you use some of mine once dinner is done, okay?" You bargained successfully as Morgan smiled and agreed, making her way into the den before exclaiming Peter's name.

You really wish the night was over.

Once you finished the tomato you were on, you noticed that Pepper was no longer in the kitchen with you. You easily connected the dots and let out quiet groan, wishing you could put your head in your hands but continued assembling the salad.

Peter was definitely staying until May and Happy were back. You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but you had to face the facts. Your father, Tony Stark, was trying to meddle and he may or may not hate you—although, you knew you were being dramatic. But you're a Stark. You don't know how else to react.

Pepper was conversing with Peter as she walked back in. You knew your assumption was right as you heard her tell him that the guest room was actually finished this time around he could actually have a room to himself and not have to sleep on the couches in the den.

Although, that was in the summer. And he wasn't sleeping on the couches.

But she didn't need to know that.

You continued minding your own business as they continued to converse as you tried to find more things to chop to put into the salad, but everything was done. The salad just needed to be seasoned properly, and you didn't trust yourself to do that right now.

"Hey, Mom?" You questioned once their conversation had ended and Peter walked to the fridge. "Do you think I could actually help you with dinner tomorrow night?"

Pepper smiled sympathetically, nodding before she pressed a kiss to your forehead as she walked over to where you stood with the salad bowl.

"You're free to go. But you better help tomorrow night," Pepper said with a false stern tone that made you laugh a bit.

"Fine, if you're forcing me." You could feel the second pair of eyes on you after the fridge shut, but ignored it to walk into the den and tell Tony about how you'll be in your room until dinner is done.

Dinner was... tense. In almost every sense of the word. You were quiet while everyone was happily conversing.

You didn't expect Peter to affect you this much after having so much time away from him, and you hated this feeling almost as much as you hated the fact he was "stuck" here until May and Happy were back from wherever your father shipped them off to.

You'd have to ask when the hell they'll get back, you noted in the back of your mind as you shoved a fork full of the salad you had.

Tony tried to get you and Peter both to do the dishes, to which you asked if you could actually head up to your room because you weren't feeling well. He didn't even hesitate to say yes, probably noticing your discomfort. After a quick thank you, you were up the stairs while Morgan cheerily asked if she could have a popsicle.

Once you were in your room you let out a long, slow breath and leaned against your door, rubbing your face tiredly.

This wasn't how you planned Spring Break going at all. You wanted a nice time with your parents and little sister, maybe have a water balloon fight or two as well as a bonfire night you've been craving since the middle of the semester.

All somewhat ruined thanks to your father and his meddling.

You were certainly being extra about your anger, but you couldn't help it. You had no control over the situation, so you had no clue how to handle anything.

After having a small crisis against your bedroom door, you finally decided to get ready for bed. You chose a plain tee-shirt, trying to dig around to find your favorite pair of sleep shorts in your suitcase, only to realize you left them back in your closet in your dorm. You've never been so close to screaming.

Sadly, you opted for the pair of silk heart sleep shorts Peter gifted you as a joke on your birthday one year, since you had no other option before crawling into bed and under your covers so you didn't have to look at them too much.

While you were playing on your phone when there was a knock at your door that caused you to glare at the hardwood. You didn't want to ask who it was, you had a very, very good idea of who it could possibly be. You heard the creak of the door as it opened.

"Hey, can I uh, can I come in?"

And god, you hated it when you were right.

"I guess," you replied from your bed, shifting to stay under the covers as Peter carefully stepped into your room, closing the door behind him.

The tension was palpable as you stayed in bed while Peter looked around to notice some of the small changes. You couldn't help but let your eyes linger on his tight black shirt he wore with a pair of flannel pants.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are," you replied, continuing to scroll on your Instagram explore page. "Sucks when you just get ignored for months on end and try to reach out only to get nothing, huh?"

You could tell that made Peter recoil.

"I should have told you—"

"Told me what, Pete?" You asked suddenly, sitting up straight in your bed, "that you were just looking for a summer fling? Is that all I was to you?"

"No!"

"Then what was I? Because clearly, we both don't know."

Peter sighed and let his hands rub over his face, moving to sit at your desk chair.

The silence was just as tense as it was at dinner between the two of you as he tried to work out his thoughts.

"I... I wanted it to be more," Peter said suddenly, letting his hands fall from his face to his knees. "I wanted us to be more than a fling. I just.. I-I didn't know how to tell you."

You blinked as you locked your phone, leaning over to place it on your nightstand before pulling yourself to the edge of your bed and pat the empty spot next to you. Peter wordlessly moved to the spot, sitting next to you.

"You wanted to be more?" You questioned softly, finally making sense of the situation. "Like... not just a "one time" thing?"

Peter nodded as he watched you speak, his hair slightly bouncing. He must have gotten out of bed for this specifically. You could feel the wheels in both your heads turning in this moment.

He wanted it to be more. More than a fling. An actual relationship, just like you wanted all those months ago.

"I know you're probably wondering—"

You leaned forwards and cut him off with a kiss. Your brain was cheering you on mentally as he kissed you back, his hands moving to cup your face and keep you close.

Sure, you'd have to talk out this whole situation later. How to make the long distance work with you attending NYU while he attends MIT and other things like that, but you just kept thinking about the fact he wanted to be more.

You scooted closer to Peter on the bed, deepening the kiss exponentially as you nudged his leg with yours before pulling away.

"Are you.. Is this your way of saying you also want it to be more than—"

"You can be a damn idiot sometimes, you know that, Pete?" You huffed, moving a hand to his thigh. "Obviously."

"Good," Peter said slowly, nodding as he took in your features for the first time since the summer. "Good."

"Now, are you gonna kiss me again or what?"

Peter let out a quiet laugh at your forwardness before diving back into a heated kiss, pushing you back onto your bed smoothly as his hands held his weight just above you so you could move your legs from the awkward position they were in if you wished.

And you did. However, you turned the tables on him by flipping the two of you over so Peter was on his back and you were straddling him this time. You weren't as smooth and had to disconnect from the kiss to laugh as you tried to position your hands near his head while he got a good look of your sleepwear.

"You're still wearing those stupid heart shorts I got you as a gag gift?"

"What? They're comfortable, Spider-Boy."

Peter let out a huff and moved his hands to pinch at the skin of your sides, "it's Spider-Man, Miss Stark."

You rolled your eyes as you leaned down to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his as you spoke: "like I care."

Peter couldn't hide his laugh against your lips as his arms wrapped around your middle to hold you on top of him, happily letting you kiss all the breath he had out of him.

Your kiss was just as intoxicating as it was in the summer, and he loved it.

Until Tony came barging in.

"Hey, I was just wanting—" Tony held the door open with his hand, old man glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he watched the two of you instantly pull away from the kiss you were sharing. "—now is a bad time, isn't it?"

"Dad, I—" you started, pulling Peter's arms from your middle frantically as you practically flung yourself into your mattress and off Peter's lap.

"No, no!" Tony exclaimed softly, waving you off with his prosthetic hand as he started to slowly back out of your room, "don't worry about it! I'll talk to you in the morning about... This. The both of you."

"Mr. Stark—"

"In the morning," Tony said sternly, squinting at the both of you, trying to fight back a small smirk. "All I ask is the volume is kept to a minimum—"

"Dad! Oh my god—"

"And! Use protection and lock the door—"

"Oh my god," Peter mumbled to himself, rubbing his face with irritation and embarrassment.

"Goodnight!" Tony sing-songed, happily shutting the door behind him with a soft click as to not wake Morgan across the hall. You and Peter both groaned once you were sure you were alone. Both you and Peter's faces were flushed from the interaction as you laid on your bed, trying to get over the awkwardness your father just happily made for you.

"We're gonna get an earful in the morning," you sighed, shifting a bit to lean back on your elbows to look at Peter who just stared at your ceiling.

"Yeah, we are." Peter turned his head to look at you with a small, boyish smile. "I'd say it was worth it, though."

[bryonysimcox]

Spring has Sprung and Life Continues: Week 11, Spain

Another week spent in the Catalunyan countryside as coronavirus lockdown continues. Here are my reflections on the arrival of spring, broad beans, ecological economics and the launch of ‘The Hundred Miler’.

This last week has seen the welcome face of April - signalling that spring is certainly here along with the arrival of Easter. It’s a time associated with new life, new starts, sunny days and longer nights. Even though we remain in full lockdown here in Spain, it feels as though we can draw upon the changing season as a source of assurance.

The week started with something rather special. I finally got to drive Suzi!

When we first bought the van in Summer 2019, I was still only 24, and it was really expensive to get me insured on it. There seems to be a transition point for insurers at age 25, so George and I had always agreed that after my birthday at Christmas, we’d get me on the insurance. But we never got around to it, partly because of the additional expense, and partly because it wasn’t a huge priority, until the start of March. And then of course, we were in Valencia and the lockdown hit, so we had nowhere to drive to even once I was insured!

My first drive here in Catalunya was pretty fun, even though it was just a trip to the supermarket. Because we’re in lockdown, the roads are super quiet which has been great, and the roads around the cottage aren’t tarmaced, so I could do some offroading as well. I’ve since driven a couple more times to and from the supermarket, and it’s so nice to be behind the wheel again. I haven’t driven since we owned our last van, Casper, back in Sydney!

(Images, left to right) My first time driving Suzi the HiAce, and a throwback to driving our last van Casper.

On the topic of Sydney, I have been doing some serious reminiscing. It’s almost coming to exactly a year since George and I flew back to the UK from Australia, and anniversaries always tend to bring on waves of nostalgia. It’s mad to think that a year ago, we didn’t own a van, not least have a clue about where we’d be living in the van! And of course, there’s no way I’d have imagined that we would be stuck amid a pandemic-induced global lockdown. Oh, to have the gift of foresight... 

The year that ensued after we left our friends, jobs, and security blanket of Sydney was an absolute rollercoaster. We naively aimed to have the van built and prepped in a matter of months, and when the van-build rolled over towards Christmas 2019, I felt like an absolute failure for not having finished it sooner. And yet now, upon reflection, I guess it’s not such a bad achievement to have managed to buy and build Suzi the HiAce, both of us get jobs in Manchester and move into a flat there, launch our documentary channel ‘Broaden’ and set off for Europe all in a year.

We can all benefit from a bit of self-reflection to put progress into perspective.

(video) Broaden’s latest video; an overview of who we are and what we’re about. It’s helped me to reframe some of the successes of this last year.

I feel like a stuck record, but food is a wonderful experience which punctuates the repetitive days of lockdown. Last week I wrote about calçots, a deliciously sweet spring onion special to this region and eaten with Romesco sauce. This week, it’s all about broad beans. The garden here is full of them, so I’ve been tasked with picking and podding. Most of them are fat enough to be podded, and are even better if you go the extra mile by blanching them and removing their skins. The smaller ones can be eaten as they are, and make for a lovely crunchy stir-fry ingredient too.

Preparing broad beans can be time-consuming, but also a wonderfully cathartic activity. My granny in Scotland used to have plenty of these beans in her garden, and I remember summer days spent picking and podding with my mum. We’ve stored plenty here in the freezer but have also kept some fresh and I am continually finding ways to incorporate them into our meals. A quick call to my well-resourced mum also resulted in her sending pages and pages photographed from Jane Grigson’s vegetable book: not only with plenty of recipes but incredibly detailed descriptions of the vegetable’s history and qualities too.

(images) Beautiful fresh veggies from the market were a highlight of the week, as well as picking these broad beans straight from the garden. The bowl on the right is what was distilled from podding four huge bags’ worth.

The resurgence in cooking and baking whilst in lockdown is inspiring, but I’ve been thinking about how it affects our supply chains as well.

Just this morning on BBC News I saw an article about dairy farmers having to throw away vast amounts of milk as cafes, hotels and restaurants remain shut, and another article about how there’s been an insane increase in demand for flour, as everyone takes to home baking. Many mills are now working around the clock to meet the demand in the UK and I was especially interested to read that even if there’s enough flour that there’s a shortage of packaging, because usually only 4% of flour produced goes into the smaller bags that we see on supermarket shelves.

Coronavirus has triggered so many changes in how we live and how we behave, that it's wreaking havoc on supply chains like this, and of course, the economy. That said, whilst the negative effects are hard to deny, scientists, economists and ecologists alike are suggesting that we should leverage the situation as an opportunity to reflect on how we all live, and how we might return to ‘normal’ life without just returning to business as usual. I agree: this is a unique opportunity to reassess production and consumption, how we assign value to things, and the economic and political models that we use to govern our world.

The connection between global lockdown, coronavirus, climate change and our economy has really got me thinking.

I recently read an incredible article by ecological economist Simon Mair in Singularity Hub which looked at this relationship. The article pulled together disparate strands that have been on my mind for a while, each related to various books which I’ve been reading, and which I can now see are interconnected. Simon suggests that the Covid-19 crisis could be a chance to “expand our economic imagination”. He explains that coronavirus, like climate change, demands a type of downscaling, counter to the ‘wartime economy’ mentality and massive upscaling of production. 

“If we want to be more resilient to pandemics in the future (and to avoid the worst of climate change) we need a system capable of scaling back production in a way that doesn’t mean loss of livelihood”, says Simon.

The article is full of gems, and Simon explores things such as our current addition to economic growth and productivity, the transfer of healthcare and labour goods out of the market and into the hands of the state, and the social forms that could come from an ethic that values care, life, and democracy. It answers some of the questions posed by George Monbiot in ‘How Did We Get Into This Mess?’, echoes some of the radical economic theories proposed by Kate Raworth in ‘Doughnut Economics’, and parallels ideas of democratic market socialism put forward by ‘How to Be an Anti-Capitalist in the 21st Century’ by Erik Olin Wright which I’m currently reading. Simon’s article has really got me so fired up, in fact, that I’m working on an idea for a new video which explores the topic, so watch this space.

(images) Three fantastic books which I highly recommend.

On the subject of videos, Broaden has been one of the only things keeping us sane! I am eternally grateful to have a creative outlet in times like these, and one which involves a collaborative partnership with George too. Whilst we aren’t able to explore places in the van, or capture footage for new films as we’d love to be doing right now, we are at least able to edit from the cottage and work on promoting the content that we are already releasing.

It feels so tricky to get the right tone when releasing videos during a global pandemic.

We are both conscious of remaining sensitive to the severity of the health crisis, whilst balancing that with the reality that life goes on, and that people still want to see pictures, watch videos and read articles that engage with other topics too. As Broaden, George and I obviously made the decision to launch our documentary ‘The Hundred Miler’ during this time, and I hope that people see it as a celebration of running, the natural world, and human resilience, and perhaps even an escape from the daily news of the virus, rather than something insensitive or badly-timed.

(video) Trailer for ‘The Hundred Miler’

‘The Hundred Miler’ comes out this Saturday 11th April, and we have been overwhelmed by the response already. People have really got behind the project, helping to share it on Facebook, Instagram and YouTube and widen its potential reach. George has been making this film for well over three years, so it feels like an immense milestone to finally have it shown to the world. I don’t think I know many people who hold themselves to such high standards as George, and so to have so many positive messages and people planning to tune in for the live premier on Saturday is the best affirmation of all his hard work that I could wish for. It has been a pleasure to see him create this documentary, and also to have been involved in the production and final stages of its creation.

The Hundred Miler is a film about three Australian guys, taking on the biggest race of their lives; UTMB.

‘Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc’ is renowned in the trail-running world, as one of the most challenging and scenic ultra marathons. The Hundred Miler is an attempt to bring this story to the masses, and we hope that it appeals to non-runners and runners alike, for its underlying themes of companionship, commitment and strength. It premiers live on YouTube at 10am in the UK, which is 7pm in Australia on 11.4.20, and after that the video will be available to watch as a normal video. You can find BTS footage and more information about the film on our Instagram here, details of the launch on the Facebook event here, and the link for the video itself here. You can also subscribe to Broaden’s YouTube channel and set a reminder for when the film goes live.

(video) ‘The Hundred Miler’ which goes live on Sat 11th April.

 It goes without saying: I am really missing the open road and living in a van. And I’m not immune to fear of the future either. But as the days and weeks pass, we learn to adapt to changing circumstances and continue to find hope among them. In a way, it helps to know we are all in the same boat, facing a topsy-turvy life full of roadblocks and revelations. Thanks for tuning in to read my weekly ramblings and I hope you’re all keeping as well as you can be. Until next week!

[kumeko]

seasons

Prompt: season (ahaha, see how great I am with titles?)

Character/Pairing: Sakura, Sasuke, Naruto, Kakashi, Sai, NaruSakuSasu

A/N: I finally got to write another piece for these three. 😊 Written for the @mixupnojutsuzine, for the bonus piece.

Summary: Kakashi had almost made a betting pool for how long their marriage would last—the only thing everyone could agree on was that it would be Naruto’s fault.

...

...

...

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i.                 Spring

“You know, this is pointless,” Sasuke pointed out dryly, crouched next to the flowerbed. His hands were somehow meticulously clean despite the gardening they’d done for the past two hours.

 Sakura tossed a weed at him with a glare. It was patently unfair that somehow he still was the prettiest amongst them, even when she’d made sure to give him the dirtiest work. On top of all that, he had the gall to complain? “It’s not.”

 “Sakuraaaa-chaaaan.” Naruto slowly dragged out her name, the way he did when he was about to say something that would get him in trouble. “I don’t want to agree with the bastard but he’s right.”

 A betrayal she didn’t expect. Her glare shifted to him and she tossed another weed. “How.”

 “Ouch! How come I get the thorny weeds?” Naruto whined, rubbing the hand that was hit. At least he looked as messy as she did, with streaks of dirt on his face and hands. Even his knees had dust and actually, she really hoped she looked nowhere near as bad as he did.

 “How,” she repeated, her question more of a statement. And really, it was an how. They’d already bought the plants. They’d already planted most of them. This was the absolute worst time to complain or reconsider anything.

 “Between mission and hospital duty, when are you going to water them?” Sasuke asked, pressing the dirt firmly around the flower he’d just planted. His eyes bored into hers. “They’re going to die.”

 “I’m not that busy,” Sakura replied petulantly, the words a lie even before they left her mouth.

 His eyebrow rose in response.

 “You can help,” she countered, pointing her trowel at the pair. In her torn overalls and broken sunhat, she looked more like a ragamuffin than a powerful ninja, but it was the thought that counted. “It’s not like you have that much to do.”

 “Eh?” Naruto grimaced, clumsily digging a hole. She would have liked to say his prosthetic made him clumsy, that his was just lacking some finer control, but Sasuke never had these problems.

 And to be honest, she couldn’t say confidently that Naruto wouldn’t have these issues otherwise. Turning to Sasuke, she amended, “You can help.”

 “Hey!” Naruto might have missed the insult, but he didn’t miss the intent. “I can help.”

 “Yeah.” Sasuke fought and failed the wipe the smirk off his face. “He can help.”

 Sakura threw another weed at him—maybe it wouldn’t help, but it made her feel better. Especially since he didn’t dodge in time and it landed square on his hair.

 ii.                Summer

 “It’s hot,” Sasuke muttered, the same way he did on the hot summer nights, when Sakura and Naruto crawled into bed beside him. He had never been really honest about what he wanted, particularly since Naruto always woke up to find Sasuke’s arms curled around them both.

 Naruto disregarded his words now as he did then, sidling next to him on the porch. After much begging and wheedling and pouting, he had convinced both Sasuke and Sakura to buy a house with him a few years ago. One away from all the ghosts. It really wasn’t healthy how much time Sasuke spent at the old Uchiha compound but that was an argument for a different time.

 Sasuke gave a bleary glare as Naruto pressed against him. “It’s hot,” he repeated. When Naruto didn’t move, he lethargically shoved him away. “Move, idiot.”

 They were stripped down to their boxers. Sakura refused to let them run around naked, no matter how much cooler that would be. Even when Naruto waggled his brows suggestively that maybe she would like the view, she didn’t so much as blush.

 Or well, she did blush lightly, because she was Sakura, but Tsunade had trained her too well and her immediate reaction was her fist. It really had been a mistake to leave her here for three years with that old hag.

 Naruto grumbled as he flopped down onto the cool hardwood floor, pressing as much of his skin to it as possible. It was too hot to even argue. That didn’t stop him anyways. “I’m not an idiot, stupid.”

 It also didn’t stop Sasuke either and maybe Sakura was onto something when she sighed and called them a pair of idiots. “Don’t call me stupid, moron.” He was too dignified to flop down himself, his prosthetic hand fanning himself.

 Maybe they could get one installed with a fan. It was a great idea. Naruto had to remember to ask about it later. Rolling over onto his back, he stared out the porch at the blue sky. This summer was the hottest on record. “It’s hot,” Naruto complained. Even Sakura’s plants, which had somehow survived till August, seemed to agree, wilting in the oppressive heat.

 They needed water.

 Sakura had told him to water them.

 Shit, she was going to kill him. Even that fear seemed like a mirage in this heat. If he died, he wouldn’t feel this sweaty. Water. He needed the water. The plants leaves were shrivelling up but it was too much effort to get up and water them all. Maybe he could use the sprinkler.

 Naruto sat up. The sprinkler! Of course. Maybe he really was a moron. Suddenly filled with energy, Naruto leapt off the porch and into the backyard.

 “What are you doing?” Sasuke drawled, looking half asleep.

 “Sprinkler!” Naruto exclaimed, reaching the shed. Yanking the doors open, he scanned the dim room for the sprinkler. It was high on a shelf and he grabbed it. Running back out, he waved it high in the air. “Sprinkler!”

 “I can see that.” Sasuke was too tired even for sarcasm.

 Rolling his eyes, Naruto grabbed the hose. And everyone called Sasuke a genius. Some genius he was. Within moments, he had the sprinkler running and cold water pelted him. Ahh, he was alive. Closing his eyes, he let the water rain down on him. Feeling refreshed, he glanced at the porch slyly. Sasuke was still sitting there, his eyes half closed.

 His pride was going to ruin him one day. Well, to be honest, it had already ruined him long ago, but it was definitely going to ruin him again. A mischievous grin spread across Naruto’s face as he slowly approached his husband.

 “What are you—” Sasuke flinched as water sprayed down on him. His hair was sopping wet and he brushed it away from his face with a glare. “Naruto.”

 “Well, Sakura told me to water her plants.” Naruto danced back, out of his reach. “And you’ve always been a bit of a pansy.”

 “You’ve been spending too much time with Sai.” Sasuke sprung off the porch, chasing Naruto through the sprinkler.

 When Sakura came back from her shift hours later, it was to a wet porch and two soaked boys lying on the grass. She stared at the flooded lawn and shrieked, “I TOLD YOU TO WATER THEM, NOT DROWN THEM.”

 iii.               Fall

 “How’s ugly?” Sai asked, his attention solely on his easel. In front of him, the fall colours spread and in a rare move from him, he was drawing something decent for once. Something colourful too, even. Maybe he had spent too much time with team seven. In team seven.

 It was making him soft.

 Kakashi looked up from his latest porn book, an amused twinkle in his eye. “Don’t let her hear you call her that.”

 “She knows I call her that.” Sai dipped his brush in water, examining his colour palette. The red wasn’t quite the right colour, the right vibrancy. Maybe if he mixed in some yellows or oranges. A touch of white too.

 “True.” Kakashi nodded, his single eye crinkled as he smiled. Despite the cover on his mouth, his voice didn’t sound muffled at all. Sai had heard the rumours of how ugly or handsome he was underneath it all—maybe he could get him to model one of these days. Scarred or not, it would make for an interesting painting.

 He’d have to get Naruto to help—the only way to convince Kakashi was to annoy him into it and Naruto had mastered that skill.

 Kakashi flipped the page in his book. “I’m impressed you call that to her face.”

 “I’m impressed you can read that with a straight face,” Sai replied, mixing his paints. And really, it was truly impressive—he’d seen how graphic some of the volumes could get. Yet there was not even the slightest tint of blush on his face. Perhaps that’s why he wore the mask, it made it a lot easier to hide reactions.

 “It’s a tame volume this time.” Not that the way Kakashi read gave that impression—each page was ogled at for a long minute before he flipped to the next one.

 “She doesn’t punch me as much anymore,” Sai answered his previous question, moving on from the topic. With a deft hand, he painted the tree leaves, a splotchy mess of colour. When it dried, he’d add in some highlights and outlines, bring order to the chaos.

 “I think living with Naruto has made her all punched-out,” Kakashi suggested, closing his book. He looked up and to the left, at the Hokage’s summit, at his face still getting carved into the mountain next to Tsunade’s. “Will there even be room left there for Naruto?”

 When. It was never an if with Naruto, they all knew he was going to be Hokage soon. Sai briefly glanced to the side himself. “They can make a small one. To match his dick.”

 Kakashi guffawed, the idea too much. Wiping his eye, he nodded. “That’s a brilliant idea.”

 “Then we could make a big one of Sasuke.” Sai picked up a smaller, finer brush, dipping it into black.

 “Now you’re just trying to kill him.” Kakashi shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think they’d last this long. Maybe after a month Naruto and Sasuke would be at each other’s throats. Or maybe Naruto would do something stupid and Sakura would end him.” Kakashi paused before adding wryly, “Actually, just Naruto accidentally doing something.”

 Sai’s brush stilled. He remembered Naruto, punching the ground after losing Sasuke that first time. Sakura clenching her fist, wiping her tears, and then comforting him. They spent three years chasing a shadow with no clues, and then a few years after that. If war, if death threats, if none of that could break them, then maybe nothing could. “I don’t think they’ll ever separate.”

 Kakashi crossed his arms, staring at the memorial plaque below the Hokage mountain. “No, I suppose not. They aren’t like us.”

 Behind them, they heard bickering, two voices rising quickly. Sai didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Sakura and Naruto squabbling, he’d heard this argument many times before. Just as quickly, the voices quietened down and a glance back showed the pair holding hands, laughing.

 Ugly. Tiny. Maybe it was time he revised his nicknames for them.

 iv.               Winter

 “Here.” Sasuke held out a cup of hot chocolate, steam faintly rising from the top.

 Sakura looked up from the couch, surprised. With a grateful smile, she accepted it, the tips of her fingers gingerly holding the ceramic. “Thanks.”

 “It’s nothing.” He settled in next to her. At three am, the room was dimly lit. Flickers from the tv lit up the walls, a brainless comedy with a volume so low they could only see the action, the reactions, but not hear the cause.

 Sakura blew over her cup. She’d claimed once her tongue was a sensitive as a cat’s, unable to drink piping hot drinks until they were room temperature. Even now, addicted to coffee as she was, she still had to cool down her cup. Taking a tiny sip, she murmured, “You don’t have to stay up every time.”

 “It’s fine.” He relaxed as she leaned against him, her warmth spilling through his clothes and onto his skin.

 “Thank you.” She glanced to her other side, to where Naruto was fast asleep. Stroking his hair, she gave him an affectionate kiss on the forehead. “Why does he always insist on this when he’s always the first to fall asleep?”

 “He’s an idiot,” Sasuke replied, rolling his eyes. As though that was even a question.

 Sakura giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. Her breath tickled his skin as she pulled back. “You two really never let up.”

 “Was it bad?” Sasuke asked finally. Sometimes, Sakura took too much after him, bottling up her grief and loss after a particularly bad night in the hospital. It wasn’t healthy, but he was the last person to say that. Even he could hear the hypocrisy of his words.

 “Not today.” She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes glued to the screen. “No one died today.”

 Died. Her words were specific, and he knew something else had happened. A coma, perhaps. Or a child. Children were almost worse than death sometimes, he’d seen her clutching her fingers sometimes in the same way a kid must have before she operated on them. Still, she seemed fine for now and he didn’t press. If there was something, Naruto could worm it out of her in the morning.  “That’s good.”

 “Yeah, it is.” Sakura set down her mug, relaxing even further onto him. Her words were sluggish, sleep finally getting to her. “Maybe we can…”

 “Can what?” Sasuke set down his own mug. Maybe he should get Naruto to wait for her in bed, it was bad enough he had to carry her upstairs without having to carry him as well.

 “Children.”

 Sakura’s voice was so quiet, Sasuke wasn’t sure he heard right. Abruptly, he looked down at her, his voice cracking. “Children?”

 “In the morning.” Sakura’s voice grew fainter and fainter, sleep claiming her. “We’ll talk then.” Within moments, she was fast asleep.

 With a sigh, he gathered her in his arms. Children. He glanced at Naruto, at Sakura. A family. It was something he both wanted and feared, a continuation, a curse. A compound full of ghosts, dispelled only by Naruto’s laughter, Sakura’s smiles.

 Maybe it was okay to let it all go now. This was something new, something unconnected to all of that. When he settled into bed, after setting Naruto and Sakura in, he wasn’t surprised to find them both clutching him in their sleep. Even unconscious, they refused to let go of him and that was what had saved him, all those years ago. This idiotic obsession, this unhealthy stubbornness.

 He wrapped his arms around them both as he closed his eyes. Children. Family. Future. This time, Sasuke wouldn’t let go of them, let go of those promises.

[coalessscence]

one of my favorite worst things to Think About are the ways herb’s casually neglectful childhood sometimes just....surfaces in the every day world of his life now. and since his whole shtick is my childhood was perfect my father is basically god and i have absolutely no parent issues idk what ur talking abt, he winds up having to flail, having to learn on the way down, and try to keep up a cover that he knew all along. which, usually, doesn’t work, and just makes it all the more sad. here’s a few examples i’ve thought of because i don’t love myself:

someone around the station gets stuck with something metal and comments they might need a tetanus shot. herb was definitely never taken to the doctor’s for a checkup and regular vaccinations as a child, and since he works daytime hours lucille takes the kids while he’s at work, so he literally has never had a shot and he doesn’t fully understand what vaccines are, aside from cultural osmosis, so he asks in telling confusion, “what’s that supposed to mean?” @piper-aileen-lenox specifically, thnx for making me think of this and ruining my life xx

when herb and lucille moved in together (i imagine they were engaged but maybe not married just yet) lucille made it clear to her rather sexist fiance that she was expecting him to tow the line around the house just as much as her, which he agreed to, except when she asked him to do the grocery shopping thinking that was a harmless thing he could do (not like she’d trust him to actually get the dishes clean or fold her clothes so they don’t wrinkle). they almost never had food consistently in the house growing up and if they did eat full meals, they only had the food for THAT MEAL around because 1. herb sr. and ruby (herb’s parents) lived an erratic lifestyle of little to no money or a whole lot of money but only for a second because it was burning a hole in herb sr.’s pocket, and because 2. ruby quickly learned spending money on food ahead was pointless because either herb sr. hecked off somewhere w/o warning and it went bad, or his deadbeat friends hung around and ate it all, so she only bought for that day if they had the money for anything. but since no one was ever around to TEACH herb anything and he figured most things out on his own, herb doesn’t understand all this and he literally thinks you’re not supposed to by food until you run out or that you have to throw out whatever you have left at the end of the week because....... who knows ???? that’s just what he thought. it caused multiple arguments early into herb and lucille’s relationship before she figured it out and explained it to him because he didn’t know well enough to ask.

when herb and lucille’s first child, bunny, was born, he had to be shown how to hold a baby by the doctor. he had literally never held or even interacted with a baby before until that moment. he had no siblings (that he knew of), he had no friends as a child because if he wasn’t the bully he was the target and he was an ass just like dear old dad so no one liked him anyway, and he had 0 other family. lucille realized in that moment as she watched his palpable confusion when she extended their newborn child to him that he was going to have a lot of learning and growing to do. she hoped he was ready for it.

god that time there was a station fam barbecue early into herb’s wkrp career and someone, maybe mr. carlson, is like ‘WHO WANTS TO BE THE GRILL MASTER’ like its a big deal and everyone is like oh it has to be herb bc he’s the newest out of us and hes aware all the men see it as a status symbol and he CAN’T be less of a man than another man bc Ego (tm) so hes like of course im the grill master !!! and then panics for the next thirty minutes because he’s literally never even stood next to a grill let alone used one HOW DOES IT WORK the first fifteen minutes he doesnt even have the gas on rip

when herb was, like, 15, he taught himself how to drive a car because one of his “friends” (peers who was a bully that he called a friend and hung out with to stop also getting bullied but who was still bullying him anyway, herb was just brainwashed into thinking that’s what friendship is) wanted them to go out cruising and herb wanted to be a Cool Guy and not look like a chump so he lied and said he could drive. they got pulled over, because of course they did, and herb got in big trouble for you know, driving w/o a licences. the kicker though is that herb didn’t fucking know you can’t drive without a license or that licenses and road tests and drivers ed were even a THING because he literally raised himself and no one ever  t a u g h t   h i m   a n y t h i n g. anyways his dad got called home to deal with it from wherever he was away at at the time and he got in big trouble for interrupting dear old dad’s work anyways so :) what a healthy family

surprisingly, herb DID know how to cook the basics. grilled cheese, pasta, stir fries, a couple casseroles. lucille asked him about it because he was always such a Gender Roles (tm) type of man who wouldn’t even wear a brighter shade of red than like. maroon. in case it got loosely contaminated with the concept of the color pink and he’d have to change his name and move to alaska. so why was he doing a “ womans job “ (cooking) and herb just looked confused and said “what, guys don’t cook?” she told him that no, they usually didn’t and would have laughed at her if she tried to make them, and he laughed awkwardly and absently stirred the pot on the stove and shrugged in mild confusion. “that’s weird. if i didn’t cook i’d have... starved, i guess.”

the bad news is his cooking wasnt GREAT and lucille was happy to take over because again.........self taught. and he has one (1) brain cell so. not Great

LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW ALL CLOTHES DON’T HAVE TO BE DRY CLEANED. his dad literally wore clothes that had to be dry cleaned Every Day (and we wonder why the tarlek family was short on the food budget god) (and they were ugly clothes too akdhfjfg) and ofc if ruby washed her clothes, it was while herb was at school. he dry cleaned so many clothes that do Not Make Sense to dry clean in college before he slowly figured that out.

did not know what an allowance was. bunny asked him for one and not willing to seem stupid to his swift daughter he told her to ‘ask her mother’, who thought it was hecking weird that her money obsessed husband would say that, so she asked him why and after several long minutes he just shrugged helplessly and said “what’s an allowance?”

don’t even get me started on herb and lucille planning their wedding ( ‘what kind of stuff should we put on the gift register?’ “put on the WHAT?”  ‘what are we going to put on top of the cake?’ “there’s gonna be CAKE?”  ‘i can’t wait for daddy to walk down the isle with me, it’ll mean a lot to him’ “your DAD is gonna walk you down the isle....?? but you’re marrying ME, right?”   ) also herb not knowing the wedding look of the bride is supposed to be a Secret and barging into the room w a question or smth while lucille and her bridesmaids are getting ready, and everyone is hella miffed and he’s like WHAT i’ve seen her naked before and theyre all like THATS NOT THE POINT HERB

herb did Not Know about seasonal allergies. he just........didn’t know. he just thought god hated him and every spring and fall his head sprung a leak. and the whole time he was growing up no one A. listened to him complain about them and put 2 and 2 together, nor B. just taught him about basic first aid stuff in general for that matter he doesnt know shit. anyways, then lucille was like why are you such a tough guy just stop complaining and take some medicine for your stupid allergies and he was like take some what for my what now

ANYWAYS herb’s mom left while he was v young and he doesn’t remember much about her. herb’s dad was literally   n e v e r   home. the people herb’s dad left him with would work for obscenely low amounts of pay or owed herb sr. money and largely used all the money for their own food, drugs, alcohol, or other more unsightly business, and left herb alone to fend for himself. this is the disaster human that that produced, thanks, family dynamics! don’t abandon your children, kids, thanks for coming to my ted talk

[kingfisherunion]

This world is cold and madness

Chapter 7: dead or alive fight back

Read on Ao3

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)

Relationships:

Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov

Characters:

Katsuki Yuuri

Victor Nikiforov

Yuri Plisetsky

Otabek Altin

Otabek Altin's Sister

Nishigori Yuuko

Yakov Feltsman

Additional Tags:

Car Accidents

Character Death

Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Anxious Katsuki Yuuri

Angst

Fluff and Angst

Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Grief/Mourning

Established Relationship

Anxiety

Anxiety Attacks

Death

Hurt Yuri Plisetsky

Character's Name Spelled as Viktor

Comforting Katsuki Yuuri

Comforting Victor Nikiforov

Victor's last season

Supportive Katsuki Yuuri

stage husband yuuri

moody viktor

Fights

Swearing

Yuri Plisetsky Swears

Post-Canon

DJ Otabek Altin

Motorcycles

it seems like Viktor is insensitive

but he really does care he's just not great with feelings

Language: English

“That’s enough, Vitenka.” The washer kicked on with a polite whir as Viktor skulked past Yuuri back into the apartment. The latter almost followed after, but his head was already pounding from all the alcohol last night, and fighting with Viktor was like fighting with an incredibly stubborn, incredibly intelligent brick wall.

Yuuri should have seen the fight coming.  All the warning signs had been there the night they had drunk vodka and listened through the Orff piece.  But he had, as usual, been slightly drunker than the other two, which was slightly more than intended.  The ache of responsibility would not excuse itself from his chest, even though he knew it wasn’t even really his business.

           Except that he considered everything about Viktor’s mood his business these days.

           He had seen that frozen look that Viktor had whenever he was trying – and failing – to be gracious in masking his distaste.  The tension behind the eyes that flicked over a translation he’d quickly googled on his phone.  The fingers curled tightly and pressed to his lips.  The impatient huffs and hums.  Yuuri knew that he was not the only one who noticed the little high-pitched whines when the momentum of the piece lulled, like a dog who whines at a siren.

           Their first year together, the year of their engagement, Viktor’s moodiness hadn’t really come up – Yuuri would later learn that his husband attributed his cool and pleasant disposition to his newfound love and the unlimited access to the hot springs.  But almost two years in, he had become no stranger to the grouchy slumps into which Viktor fell, especially when he was stressed, and especially when he was away from Makkachin.

He’d tried to ask their Russian rinkmates for advice, insight, anything to appease the beast that bristled in Viktor’s chest when things weren’t going quite as planned, but nobody had much to say beyond, That side of him can be so scary – I try to stay away when I see him in a huff.  Mila recalled her first years studying with Yakov, watching a teenage Viktor sit through five consecutive skate sessions until his coach finally conceded to let him skate Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore for his free program.  He’d been a pristine, shining marble statue in his beauty and his coldness and his absolute stubbornness.  Even with Yakov screaming in his face, he’d barely looked up from his phone.

It didn’t take much, especially in familiar company.  Yuuri had seen Viktor’s day ruined by the caption of one of Christophe’s Instagram photos.  One bad proof out of the hundred his last photoshoot had yielded.  A discrepancy between the weather forecast and the actual weather.

Everyone knew to stay away.  Except… well, Yurio knew.  He just didn’t care.

           Viktor didn’t like Carmina Burana.  Specifically, he didn’t like it for skating.  A lifelong legacy of wins had groomed in him a compulsion-like reflex to love or hate the music he heard.  It was obnoxious, the black-and-white-ness of it, especially considering his harsh first impressions were usually right.

           That wasn’t to say Yuuri especially loved it himself – there were certainly one or two strong movements, but the themes tended to be repetitive and without direction, like the chanting of the monks the composer had clearly tried to emulate.  There were a time and place for this kind of music, for sure, and when he had first heard Carmina Burana years ago in Detroit he had been swept away by a story of loneliness and fellowship and love and loss. There were even a few movements he himself would consider skating.

           “It’s all about sex,” Viktor huffed, pacing their apartment the next morning under the weakest pretense of unpacking.  “It’s springtime!  Lusty spring!  Everyone drinks and fucks and one day you’ll die!  Perfect!”  Yuuri wished Makkachin were there to lighten the atmosphere, and possibly to motivate his husband to be a bit less aggressive with his stomps.  “This is not the work to honor with dignity the death of a loved one.  No matter how much he may have liked it.”  He threw the last of his shirts into the washing machine and slammed the door shut.  “I understand Yurio’s in pain but we are not here to humor his every whim.”

           “Viktor, he’s trying to find his footing,” Yuuri muttered, leaning in the doorway to watch his husband’s irate clothes-sorting session with quiet concern.  “It’s something Otabek left behind.”

           “Yes, well, I’m sure he left behind some underwear too, so at least Yurio already has a costume.”

           “That’s enough, Vitenka.”

           The washer kicked on with a polite whir as Viktor skulked past Yuuri back into the apartment.  The latter almost followed after, but his head was already pounding from all the alcohol last night, and fighting with Viktor was like fighting with an incredibly stubborn, incredibly intelligent brick wall.

           Yuuri had fallen asleep before the fight proper had even begun, but in retrospect, he had definitely seen the warning signs.  Yurio had grown more and more irritated at Viktor’s audible displeasure, responding with his own little snorts, an eye roll, a middle finger.

           Viktor had let out a dry, humorless laugh when he heard the song of the roasted swan.  The tortured nasal cry of a countertenor raked against their eardrums as he cried, “Now I lie on the plate, and cannot fly anymore, I see bared teeth!”

           “This one would be perfect to skate – I think I’ll recommend it to Georgi,” he’d mumbled.  Yuuri, in spite of himself, could not help but giggle, but Yurio was approaching totally incensed.

           Why had Yuuri let himself get so drunk?  Could he have stopped this?

           He’d sprung awake to the strangled shouts of a heated argument in what must have started out as hushed tones.  Viktor was half-shouting in Russian while Yuri, tears streaming down his face, jammed a finger over and over again into the older man’s chest, hissing his own retaliation.

           “…отвали, мудак, блядь!”

           “…нет оправдания быть эгоистичным!”

           “пошёл на хуй, я любила его!”

           The bottle dangling from Yurio’s hand fell to the floor with a crash.

           Yuuri was already deep into what promised to be a day-long hangover.  He could feel the room lurch around him as he pulled himself to his feet.

           “What on earth is going on?  What happened?  Viktor?” he shot his husband a pointed glare, swallowing down the bile burning in his throat.  The clock on the stove read 5:14.  He gestured towards it, rubbing his temples with his finger and thumb.  “Don’t you see it’s… where are your neighbors? Shit.”

           “Anata, this is foolish.  He’s being hasty in his…” Viktor started in Japanese, but he was soon cut off by Yuri’s furious snarl.

           “You married a selfish piece of shit, pig,” he clipped.  “This is fucking stupid.  Get out.  Go home.  I don’t want to see your fucking faces.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

           The best way to deal with a fuming Viktor was to give him space, let him stomp it out, and let him get hungry enough to think he’d just been hangry.  Yuuri retreated to the bath with a cold sports drink, his Bluetooth speakers, and his copy of The Name of the Wind.  The steamy waters eased the tension from his headache just enough to let him focus on Kvothe’s epic tale, and his classical music playlist was just enough to drown out the sullen grunts and stomps from the other side of the door.  This was supposed to be the list of prospective pieces for his free skate program, but this skating season hardly felt like a reality anymore.

           Besides, Viktor’s fits were nothing compared to Yurio’s.  This little “mood” had been timely enough to potentially settle his decision to take the season off.  Viktor was supposed to start coaching the younger in full this year to open up Yakov’s time to more students.  He’d get over a drunken spat in no time.  He might even hear Yurio out on a few of the solos from the Orff.  Presuming Yurio would forgive his behavior at all, which at the moment was presuming a lot.  What a damn mess.

           The clock on his phone read 15:39.  Ten hours since he’d dragged his seething husband home.  Ten hours since Yuri had kicked them out.  Yuuri knew he wouldn’t be over it, but it was worth a shot.

           He opened a new message and quickly typed out,

 >We should talk about Estuans interius or Stetit puella for your short program if you’re serious about this music.  Don’t let him discourage you.  I’ll even help you choreograph it.

           He reviewed it, not entirely satisfied but not sure how he could make it better, then pressed “Send”.  A reply came in the amount of time it took him to read two more pages.

 >Fuck off.  I’m done.

[liliannorman]

Why you’re spotting more wildlife during COVID-19

As people have spent more time at home during the COVID-19 pandemic, this spring, it seems like wildlife have responded by coming out to play. There are videos of coyotes walking down San Francisco streets. Birdsong seems much louder than before. People are sharing pictures of snakes on sidewalks and bike trails.

Explainer: What is a coronavirus?

And of course, there are the rats. City dwellers are seeing rats everywhere. Because rats can spread disease, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention — an agency that works to prevent disease — has offered tips for dealing with the unwelcome rodent tide.

With all the news, it’s easy to think that nature is sweeping in and taking over. But it isn’t likely that there are more rats or coyotes than normal. The animals aren’t even going new places. Instead, COVID-19 has changed the way people behave, and the way we interact with the natural world.

Here are five reasons that people might be running into more wildlife than before.

1. Human handouts are scarce 

Urban rats have tended to dine on human trash. With many restaurants closed, the dumpsters they usually fill with trash may now be empty. Hungry rodents now might be forced into the open in search of meals. People have certainly claimed to see more rats. But there are not yet real data to back that up, says Jonathan Richardson. He’s an urban ecologist, someone who studies how city organisms interact with each other and their surroundings. He works at the University of Richmond in Virginia.

“We would expect [rats] to be impacted as restaurants close,” he says. It does make sense. “But lots of people are throwing that around without data to support it,” he says. Richardson and his colleagues are now stepping in to gather such data. To find out where rats are going during COVID-19, they are using surveys by pest management groups and calls to city services about rats.

See all our coverage of the new coronovirus outbreak

Rodents populations go through booms and busts. When food is plentiful, rat populations go up. When food disappears, or pest control comes, rat populations fall. If food is scarce enough for rats during shutdowns, Richardson says, “it could be the beginning of a bust cycle. A lot of city health folks are hoping that’s the case.”

But if there is a bust, he adds, don’t expect it to last. “It would absolutely be temporary,” he says. “They’re just so adapted to breeding quickly and reproducing.”  Rat packs will rebound quickly.

2. Scary humans aren’t around as much 

All animals need to avoid predators as they find food and shelter. That creates a landscape of fear — where some places are safer than others, explains John Laundre. He’s an ecologist at Western Oregon University in Monmouth.

And the top predator? People. “We are predators on pretty much everything,” says Laundre. “Everything fears us.”

Black bears avoid areas with lots of people during the day. But when the pandemic hit, it kept people off even the roads — and the bears came out.Chancey Joy/iStock/Getty Images Plus

Pumas, for example, live in the Santa Cruz Mountains of California. People do, too. The big cats may chow down peacefully on a carcass if a loudspeaker nearby is playing nature noises. But the big cats run for it when the speaker switches to the sound of people talking. That’s the finding of a 2017 study in the journal Proceedings of the Royal Society B.

And pumas aren’t alone. Black bears living on the edges of towns avoid residential areas by day. They may tend to head out at night, when people are less likely to be around. Those are the results of a 2019 study in the journal Movement Ecology. 

All that changed during COVID-19. People began staying home in record numbers. And the landscape of fear that we make stayed at home with us. Coyotes live in suburbs and cities, but we rarely see them. To avoid people, they normally restrict their activities to dark. But now they’ve been sauntering more boldly. “The fewer people they see around,” Laundre explains, “the more willing they are to come out during the day.”

3. It’s nice and quiet

Not all animals fear us. “We can see a lot of birds flying around and coming to our feeders,” Laundre notes. Humans pose little threat to them. But people have been taking greater notice of local birds in the time of COVID-19.

“I would say noise pollution is the biggest reason people notice them,” says Gustavo Bravo. He’s an ornithologist, or someone who studies birds, at Harvard University in Cambridge, Mass.

Noise pollution is a harmful or annoying level of sound. Animals are sensitive to the sounds of traffic and other human activities. Even when they don’t fear our noise, it does change their behaviors. “Birds will adjust their song and the times they are singing to account for urban noise,” notes Deja Perkins. She’s an urban ecologist at North Carolina State University in Raleigh. “Usually they sing earlier in the day to avoid competing with city noises such as traffic.” They also sing at a higher sound frequency in urban neighborhoods to help their songs stand out against a city’s roar.

But when people went inside because of the pandemic, noise pollution fell. “If everyone is hunkered down at their homes, cities are quieter,” Bravo explains. Sounds of the City is a New York University study of urban noise. It’s placed microphones around New York City. And these have picked up less sound from traffic and people as COVID-19 took hold.

It’s too early to say if birds have changed their singing times or tones yet, Perkins says.  But because streets are quieter, people can hear birds better. And they’re paying attention. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology has a Global Big Day every year, which invites people to log their bird observations on the eBird app and website. On May 9, this year, the Lab reported a 32 percent increase in participation compared with Big Day 2019.

A red-winged blackbird preens in hopes of catching a partner’s attention. COVID-19 hit during peak bird mating season. Birds like this one are now easier to see and hear.passion4nature/iStock/Getty Images Plus

4. Spring has sprung 

If birds have seemed especially musical, that’s because they are, Bravo explains. COVID-19 hit the Northern Hemisphere at a critical time. “March, April and May are the spring-migration months in the Northern Hemisphere,” he notes. “Also, for the resident birds not migrating, it’s the time they mate. They sing a lot — they’re looking for their partners.”

Birds aren’t the only animals searching for companions. “This is the time of year – March, April, May — when snakes are coming out of hibernation, to eat, warm up and look for each other to mate,” says David Steen. As a herpetologist, he studies reptiles and amphibians. He works for the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission in Gainesville. The snake’s timing, this year, has nothing to do with COVID-19. “I’ve been answering people’s questions about snakes and identifying snakes for people for a decade or so,” he says. “This is my busy season.”

5. We’re finally paying attention 

Those snakes aren’t changing. We are. People who might have traveled to look at rare species before have been stuck a bit closer to home. No longer in schools, cars or offices, we’re hanging out in their neighborhoods and in local wild areas — and suddenly more likely to notice them, Steen says.

Many people are finally paying attention to their back gardens, says Helen Smith. She’s a spider expert in Norfolk, England where she works with the British Arachnological Society. That Society has conducted several surveys that ask people to report spider sightings. “You’re living with these really interesting animals,” she says. “Make friends with them.”

All our screen time lately also helps shine a spotlight on local wildlife sightings, notes Bravo of Harvard. “People have started to post about it on social media. And because everyone was looking at social media, it spread it out fast.”

In his home country of Colombia, Bravo says, “even some national celebrities were posting pictures of birds. It’s not something they’d do on a daily basis, but they’re sitting at home.”

Perkins, in Raleigh, has been involved with #BlackBirdersWeek during COVID-19. It’s an effort to promote birders of color on Twitter. She hopes that social media and in-person attention will spark interest in local wildlife that extends beyond the pandemic. “I hope that people continue to go outdoors and make these observations and pay attention to the wildlife that we have around us,” Perkins says. Indeed, she adds, it’s helping us notice “that people aren’t the only things that thrive in cities.”

Why you’re spotting more wildlife during COVID-19 published first on https://triviaqaweb.tumblr.com/

[dannofaust]

As I sit down to write this blog post it is Saturday, March 23rd. I have just returned from a most enjoyable little trip on the Vermilion River near Pontiac, IL. Spring has sprung. The weather is starting to get warmer and the days are getting longer. As we put Winter in our rear view mirror, I have been longing to get back on the river. So I enthusiastically welcomed the chance to go paddling with Lenore, a fellow member of the Mackinaw Canoe Club.

Lenore had posted on MCC FaceBook page that she wanted to paddle somewhere this weekend. I commented that I would like to paddle somewhere too and asked that she keep me informed if a group paddle developed from her post. Lenore messaged me back that I was the only one to respond favorably to her suggestion. Some folks were busy working or had with other plans. A few were doing a camping trip somewhere else. I suspect that a few more people might have shown some interest in Lenore’s suggestion if it were not so early in the season.

Being cautious and/or reluctant about paddling when the weather is still cool makes a lot of sense. In order to be safe you have to dress so that you can survive the ordeal if you happen to end up in the river somehow. It’s called dressing for immersion. Yep … it happens. I used to paddle all year round. If you paddle in cold weather enough, sooner or later someone is going to get wet. It’s not fun, but if you are dressed properly you will survive.

Believe it or not, there’s actually an advantage to paddling before the air temperatures get much warmer. In order to dress so that you will still survive if you fall into the river you will either be wearing a dry suit ( with insulating layers underneath), a wet suit ( with insulting layers over it ), or a paddling jacket and pants with layers of wool and synthetic clothing underneath. That tends to get pretty warm if the air temperature is much above 50-60 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s my opinion any way. Some people seem to be cold all the time ( that’s me ) and others get too warm very easily. The cool air temperatures keep me from overheating while I’m wearing all that insulating gear.

The real problems start to happen when the air temperatures get in the 60’s or above early in the year. Just like me, people are eager to get back out on the water after a long winter. They decide to do a trip on their local river or lake. They dress in regular street clothes because the the air temperature is at a comfortable level. Then something unexpected happens and they fall into the water. The water temperature is still very cold, probably in the 40-50 degrees Fahrenheit range, maybe colder. Falling into water that cold comes as a real shock. Some people may experience a gasp reflex. Almost everyone who falls into such cold water unexpectedly will experience some level of hypothermia. If you can not get out of the water and get dried off fairly quickly you could be in real trouble.

On the other hand, if you go out in those same conditions wearing enough insulating clothing to survive the cold water you can easily, and very quickly, get overheated. It’s a tough balancing act trying to find the right combination of clothing to keep you warm, even if you get wet, but not so warm that you overheat while you’re dry.

After a short exchange of messages, Lenore and I settled on a section of the Vermilion River that runs from the Humiston Woods Nature Center to the E2400 N Road bridge. This section of the river can be found in Mike Svob’s “Paddling Illinois” guide book. It’s the second half of the trip listed as “North Vermilion River 1”.

The North Vermilion River 1 trip, that Svob describes, starts at a small Township park on the northern edge of Pontiac, IL and ends at the E2400 N Road bridge. Right in the middle of that 11.2 river miles sets the Humiston Woods Nature Center. There are pit toilets, picnic tables, a pavilion, hiking trails, and more at Humiston Woods. This is the key factor in making this a great river trip. Having Humiston Woods right in the middle of the river section allows Paddler to choose to do the whole section, just the first half, or just the second half. It also gives you an opportunity to include a picnic and/or some hiking on any one of those trips. The first half of the river section is just over 5 river miles long. The second half is just over 6 river miles long. This means that paddlers can choose between a 5, 6, or 11 mile trip. Another great thing about this entire section of the river is that it has not been dredged or straightened, unlike parts of the river farther upstream, which have been severely altered. The natural twists and turns of the river through a mostly wooded landscape with little evidence of civilization makes for a most enjoyable time on the river. Wildlife is abundant. Svob knew what he was doing when he chose to include this section in his guide book.

  Looking down from the top of the steps towards the river.

The steps down to our river access.

Me carrying my kayak to the water.

Ok, on to the trip at hand. Lenore wisely suggested that we wait until 10:30 to meet up for this trip as the morning temperatures were going to be quite cold. I was glad that she did because there was frost on the ground when I got up in the morning. By the time we gathered at Humiston Woods and ran our shuttle, the air was warming up nicely and all traces of the frost were gone.

Probably our one least favorite aspect of this trip, or just about any river trip throughout the area, was the mud. It’s been wet. The river was high just a few weeks ago, so the river banks are wet and muddy. This is something that just comes with the territory. Literally. A little mud and water never hurt anybody, but it does pay to go slow and be careful. It’s very easy to slip and fall or twist something and get hurt. We made our way down the steps and over to the rivers edge, taking as little mud along with us as possible.

  The river was reading 4.75 feet and flowing 960 cfs on the Pontiac river gage. This is an ideal water level for paddling the Vermilion River anywhere in the Pontiac area. We had plenty of water to carry us over all of the shallow spots. The river had plenty of current, but it was not so fast as to become pushy or dangerous.

We knew that the trip would go by quickly, so we took our time and explored the mouths of several little tributaries. It was fun to reminisce about trips we’ve done before, our Canoecopia experience, and just generally shooting the breeze.

This time of the year here are limited opportunities to observe wildlife, but we did see Canada geese, wood ducks, and red tailed hawks, among others. Lenore is an avid birder, so it was nice to have her along to identify the birds we saw.

    Another advantage to venturing outdoors during these cooler months is that you can actually see much farther into areas that will soon be completely shrouded in thick foliage. I always find beauty in nature no matter what time of the year it is. I think it’s interesting to see how different the same area looks in January, February, and March as compared to June, July, and August.

All too soon we saw the bridge come into sight and the trip was over. There was a significant amount of mud to deal with at the take-out, but other than some muddy boots and a little mud on our boats, we escaped unharmed.

So, that’s nice, but what does this have to do with preparing for your Mississippi River trip you ask? That’s a fair question. First of all I think it was important to get out on the river and exercise some of those paddling muscles that I haven’t been using all winter. Sure, you can cross train and do all sorts of other stuff to stay in shape over the long winter, but there’s nothing like actually paddling to get your body back in shape for long days on the river.

Another thing that came to my attention after this trip was my lack of planning when it came time to tell the story of the trip. I didn’t even have an outline of important photos to take or anything else that I should document. That would be a problem on my Mississippi River trip because you only get one chance to document most of the areas as you are traveling through. As I was getting ready to write this blog post I found myself wishing that I had taken more photos. There were some obvious things that I could have photographed, but didn’t. With just a little bit of forethought and planning I could have done a much better job of documenting the trip.

On our little Vermilion River trip, Lenore saved the day by taking photos all along the way and at important times during the trip. I probably wouldn’t have taken hardly any photos if it hadn’t been for Lenore. When she would pull her camera out and snap a few photos it reminded me to do the same. Of course, Lenore has a bit of an advantage. She is, after all, a professional newspaper journalist who documents events, and a myriad of other newsworthy happenings, almost every day. I need to start thinking like a journalist. What is the story I want to tell? What photos should I take? Of course, there will be things that I won’t be able to plan ahead for, but hopefully most of those unexpected photo opportunities will be obvious once they occur and I will be able to document most of them.

My idea is to use all of these little days trips and overnighters to sharpen my skills so that I will be more prepared for my big trip. I try to think about each experience as if it were part of the big trip and how could I do any part of it better?

“The best way to predict the future is to create it.”

Previous Post: “Canoecopia 2019 – Part 4 (Sunday)”

Next Post: ”

Early Spring Vermilion River Day Trip. As I sit down to write this blog post it is Saturday, March 23rd. I have just returned from a most enjoyable little trip on the Vermilion River near Pontiac, IL.

[park-thatasshere]

The Three Stages of Obsession

‘Jimin was a chronic user of (y/n),

                                           and there was nothing seasonal about his interest.’ 

Featuring: Jimin (bts) Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2k

m.list

Stage One  Observation. /ˌäbzərˈvāSH(ə)n/. the action or process of observing something or someone carefully or in order to gain information.

He never did care for atoms or electron microscopy, all he desired was to pass the course. A low C was all he desired. Seventy-percent was alright for him, but as the teacher droned on about the different Hydrogen Wave Functions, he quickly found his attention wavering from the lecture to focus on the people who sat amongst him in the auditorium. 

Choosing the latter, Jimin skims the crowd of fellow students. Sadly no one quite piqued his interest. Not the girl filling up her wish list on Brandy Melville, nor the boy drawing obscenities onto his hand. 

He continues to scan the class hoping to find someone worthwhile when a hand on the opposite side of the class shoots up in his peripheral. He redirects every drop of attention to the girl who so earnestly shot her hands up to answer the question no one else was willing or confident enough to. 

Her hair had a natural glimmer under the fluorescent lights, eyes gleaming with a spirituous passion for learning. Once the professor called on her she gave him a detailed answer that seemed to come straight out of a text book. Jimin was so stunned at how knowledgeable she was. 

When the teacher moved on with the lesson, Jimin didn’t. His eyes stayed glued to the girl’s back and even if there wasn’t much to see, it was enough for him.

-

After weeks of admiring her from afar, there was finally a shift. An opportunity to talk to her. It was during a lab day, and this was a time he wished he had taken the time to get acquainted with someone, instead of staring off at the girl during lecture.

Everyone rushed at the chance to click up, meanwhile he sat at his seat idly looking around for someone that seemed to be in the same boat as him. A tap on his shoulder interrupts his desperate search as he whips his head around to be met with eyes he’s only rarely seen, when she’d take a glance back at the clock. 

Her hair was put up into a messy bun, the only thing holding it being a wooden pencil. He was surprised to meet the only person who probably still uses those. The loose strands that refused to obey the ways of the bun hung sloppy around her face. Even with such a laid back look he still found something comforting and elegant about you. 

Her smile is nothing less of contagious as Jimin unknowingly shows her his killer smile.

“Um would you like to be partners?” She asks softly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. 

This was crazy. He knew she had friends in that class, hell it seemed her whole squad was in there, so for her to pick a total stranger was beyond him.

“Uh…y-yeah sure.” He’s quick to slide over all of his books to the other side of him to give her room as she sits beside him. He watches as she makes herself comfortable, neatly placing her striped pencil case at the edge of the desk, flipping open her notebook. 

Her notes were definitely a representation of herself, uniformly color coded. They could make a font with how sharp her penmanship was, Jimin thought.

His stare must have been burning a hole into the side of her head because she caught him staring. He bashfully smiled and turned back towards the teacher. His foot hadn’t stopped its shaking not once since she asked to be his partner.

Stage Two. Fixation. /fikˈsāSH(ə)n/. an obsessive interest in or feeling about someone or something.

The project comes and goes as they slowly adjust into spring, and love is in the air. 

He was sprung, high off of the thought of her. Jimin was a chronic user of ___, and there was nothing seasonal about his interest. His eyes were fixated on the curve of her lips as they formed each syllable. He had no idea what exactly was being said but he didn’t mind not one bit. As long as he got to be around her, able to freely gawk he was satisfied.

“Hey you! It’s not polite to stare.” Jimin whips his head around to see a tall blonde with a pink visor strapped around his head approaching. 

“If you like her so much why don’t you go talk to her?” His hands are respectively covered with the gardening gloves but it doesn’t seem like he’s broken a sweat with the lack of dirt or sweat coating his form.

A nervous sweat breaks out on Jimin’s brow as he looks from side to side.

“I’m talking to you dude. Hey are you deaf?”

“N-no.”

“Then why didn’t you answer me.” His arms are folded now as he impatiently awaits an answer.

“Because I don’t share my business with strangers.” At this the boy throws on an amused smirk leaning over to whisper in Jimin’s ear.

“What if I told you I could get her over here?” He chuckles at the interest swarming around in Jimin’s eyes.

“I’d like to see you tr-”Jimin can’t even finish his sentence before the boy rushes over to her side. 

Jimin stares at him and ___ trying to decipher what is being said but once both their gazes switch over to him he knows he was brought up. Not a moment later they are both making their way over to him. He curses under his breath and shoves the hand shovel into the dirt, furiously digging away at the earth.

“Hey Jimin, Jin said you needed some help?” Her smile has his heart speeding up.

“Uh y-yeah I-I was wondering how exactly I was supposed to plant the seeds.” Jin is standing behind her evil glint in his eyes as he silently laughs at Jimin’s expense. She bends down beside him and he can smell the hard work coming off of her. Something enthralling about the scent has him leaning in a little closer to get a better whiff of her.

“All you have to do is dig a hole about this deep and-”

He tunes her out instead taking in the light sheen of sweat coating her brow. Dirt was painted on every inch of her but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Easy enough?”

“Oh uh yeah thanks.”

“Jin, I expect you to be filthy by the end of the day you got that?”

“Yes ma'am!” He salutes her and she gently pushes his shoulder, urging him to get to work. Once she’s far enough out of earshot Jin bursts into laughter.

Jimin is anything but amused. He glares at Jin, dusting the dirt from his bottom as he stands up.

“Why are you even here if you’re not gonna do any work Jin?”

“I could say the same to you, but I guess I have an idea.” Saying this he turns his head in her direction watching as she talks to fellow volunteers. Jimin huffs a breath out of annoyance chucking his shovel into a nearby bucket and storming off.

Stage Three. Declaration. /ˌdekləˈrāSH(ə)n/. a formal or explicit statement or announcement.

No progress had been made. 

The year was nearing its end and he had made no move to further his relationship with her. Aside from the tons of activities he forced himself to join for the sake of being near her, nothing, nada, zilch.

It would be a lie if he said they hadn't gotten close. They’d studied together one on one and in groups. He knew way more about her family than just any old acquaintance, too. The expectations her family full of doctors, lawyers, and politicians had for her. He even knew trivial things that might have slipped out in conversation like her favorite ice cream flavor, pecan butterscotch, and her favorite color.

Gentlemanly manners automatically taking action whenever he was around her. He held doors, made her walk on the inside of the street, even held her bag on occasion.

People around campus thought they were dating, curious as to how the lazy underachiever scored a date with the active overachiever. He was always jumping at the chance to deny such false claims, afraid of scaring her off. He had no idea how hurt she really was at his blunt rejection each time someone asked.

This happened to be one of those times.

They happened to be shopping together when a street vendor unexpectedly stopped them.

“Pretty flowers for your pretty girlfriend?”

“Ah sorry we aren’t together.” Jimin was sporting a sorry expression but the man wasn’t buying it.

“Oh come on no need to be sh-”

“He said we aren’t together now can you please leave us alone?” Her voice was menacing and had the vendor shrinking back over to his stand. Jimin was shocked at how out of character ___ was being, standing there trying to take in what just happened. She didn’t wait for him as she continued walking.

He struggles to keep up with her fierce pace and it turn chooses to jump in front of her.

“What’s your problem? You didn’t have to be so hostile to the poor man.”

“How was I being hostile? I just told him the truth.” Jimin raises both hands in defeat and takes his spot beside her.

“I do not like this side of you.” He says lowly, not for anyone to hear, but she heard.

“Apparently you don’t like any side of me from what you’ve been telling everyone.” She snapped out sharply.

Jimin can’t help but look to her with a brow furrowed in confusion. He had no idea what or where she was going with this. 

“I love you, Park Jimin!” She declared suddenly, with no warning.

The street seems to completely go silent as all eyes are on her after hearing such a bold declaration to the blonde haired boy. He was just as shocked as the next guy, never seeing the confession going this way, or coming from her. He subtly pinches his wrist not believing what’s happening right now. The very moment he’s lusted after for so long come and he struggles to find the exact words to respond with.

His silence doesn’t sit well with her as she quickly turns back around and heads into a book store. He comes in after her but she was too fast. When he enters there is no sign of her. He asks around to see if anyone knows where she went but they are no help. He resorts to just scouring the store.

Having looked around ¾’s of the store he finally finds he huddling away in an aisle that might only be known to regulars. Her face is buried in one of those self help books. He would have thought she was actually reading if it weren’t for the barely audible sniveling and the fact the book was upside down.

Not being able to hold it in Jimin’s laugh bubbles out from his throat.

“You think my pain is funny?! Asshole!” She flings the book aiming for his head but he swiftly dodges the hard cover. He walks over and crouches in front of her smoothing down her hair.

“I’m not laughing at you crying. I’m laughing because I’ve loved you for a long time but just never knew when or how to say it, and for you to just blurt it out like that makes me feel like an obsessed idiot for stressing over this.”

The falling of tears slows as she looks up to him like he’s flying. He wraps both of his arms around her, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Once she calms down she sends a punch to his chest.

“Ow what was that for?” He winces out faking hurt.

“That was for making me wait.” She chokes out, half way between laughter and tears.

[frankkjonestx]

5 reasons you might be seeing more wildlife during the COVID-19 pandemic

Coyotes sauntering down the streets of San Francisco. Neighborhoods flooded with birdsong. Snakes slithering onto trails and sidewalks. And of course, the rats. Rats everywhere. Somehow, as COVID-19 forced us all into our homes, it also managed to bring nature a little bit closer. Sometimes — as in the case of rats — a little uncomfortably close.

Newspapers have eagerly reported sightings of wildlife in the streets. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention even issued guidelines to deal with an expected flood of rats. It’s easy to think that nature is sweeping into our ordered lives and taking over now. But numbers of rats or coyotes probably aren’t all that much higher than normal, and animals aren’t even necessarily going anywhere new. Instead, COVID-19 has changed the way we interact with the natural world.

Here are five reasons that people might be running into more wildlife than before.

1. Human handouts are scarce.

Restaurants are closed, and dumpsters usually filled with trash lie empty. That might be forcing rats out into the open to search for food. People have certainly claimed to see more rats. But there’s not yet real data to back that up, says Jonathan Richardson, an urban ecologist at the University of Richmond in Virginia.

“We would expect them to be impacted as restaurants close and trash generation moves to residential buildings,” he says. “It’s very intuitive, but lots of people are throwing that around without data to support it.” He and his colleagues are in the process of gathering some of that data themselves, using surveys of pest management groups and calls to city services about rats.

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Rodents are prone to boom and bust cycles in their populations, as opportunities for food and threats from predators (or pest control) come and go. If food is scarce enough for rats during shutdowns, he says, “it could be the beginning of a bust cycle. A lot of city health folks are hoping that’s the case.”

But if there is a bust, he says, don’t get your hopes up that it will last. “It would absolutely be temporary,” Richardson says. “They’re just so adapted to breeding quickly and reproducing they’ll be able to repopulate declined populations very quickly.”

2. Scary humans aren’t around as much.

Every animal exists in a landscape of fear  — trying to get what they need while avoiding areas where predators might be lurking, says ecologist John Laundre. Those predators include humans. “We are predators on pretty much everything,” says Laundre, of Western Oregon University in Monmouth. “Everything fears us.”

Pumas in the Santa Cruz Mountains, for example, will chow down peacefully on a carcass while a nearby speaker plays nature noises. But the big cats beat a speedy retreat when the speaker switches to the sound of humans talking, a 2017 study in the Proceedings of the Royal Society B showed. Similarly, black bears living near human-inhabited areas avoid those areas during the day. They prefer to venture to peopled places at night, when humans are less likely to be out, according to a 2019 study in Movement Ecology.

When humans retreat, due to lockdowns and stay-at-home orders, the landscape of fear that we create retreats with us. Animals common in suburban areas, such as coyotes, might normally restrict their activities to the evening and night. But “the fewer people they see around,” Laundre explains, “the more willing they are to come out during the day.”

3. It’s nice and quiet.

Not all animals fear us. “We can see a lot of birds flying around and coming to our feeders,” Laundre notes. “They know humans are safe.”

Those humans are, in turn, taking greater notice of their avian neighbors in the time of COVID-19. “I would say noise pollution is the biggest reason people notice them,” says Gustavo Bravo, an ornithologist at Harvard University. Or rather, the lack of noise pollution. “If everyone is hunkered down at their homes, cities are quieter,” he notes.

The Sounds of the City project, a New York University study that places microphones around New York City to study urban noise, showed drastic decreases in the sounds of traffic and people as COVID-19 took hold.

“Birds will adjust their song and the times they are singing to account for urban noise,” notes Deja Perkins, an urban ecologist at North Carolina State University in Raleigh. “Usually, they sing earlier in the day to avoid competing with city noises such as traffic.” They also sing at a higher sound frequency in urban neighborhoods to help their songs stand out against the city’s roar (SN: 7/16/03).

While it’s too early to say if birds have changed their singing times or tones in the quieter streets, she says, we are better able to hear them. And people are taking note. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Global Big Day, which invites people to log their bird observations on the eBird app and website once a year, reported a 32 percent increase in participation compared with 2019.

4. Spring has sprung.

If the birds seem especially musical, Bravo explains, it’s because they are. COVID-19 happened to hit the Northern Hemisphere at a critical time. “March, April and May are the spring migration months in the Northern Hemisphere,” he says. “Also for the resident birds not migrating, it’s the time they mate. They sing a lot; they’re looking for their partner.”

Birds aren’t the only animals becoming more common in spring. “This is the time of year – March, April, May — when snakes are coming out of hibernation, to eat, warm up and look for each other to mate,” says David Steen, a herpetologist at the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission in Gainesville. It’s nothing to do with COVID-19. “I’ve been answering people’s questions about snakes and identifying snakes for people for a decade or so,” he says. “This is my busy season.”

5. We’re finally paying attention.

But the snakes themselves never changed. “These snakes have always been right next to us,” Steen says. “We’ve been living with these animals [for] so long. We just happen to see them more often [now].”

People who previously might have traveled to wide vistas and tried to spot rare species may be stuck a bit closer to home, and finally paying attention to their back gardens, says Helen Smith, an arachnologist with the British Arachnological Society who’s based in Norfolk, England. “They’re at home more and in their local patch more,” she says. The BAS has put out several surveys to help people report their spider sightings. “You’re living with these really interesting animals,” she says. “Make friends with them.”

See all our coverage of the coronavirus outbreak

Our social media fixation also helps shine a spotlight on local wildlife sightings, Bravo notes. “People have started to post about it on social media, and because everyone was looking at social media, it spread it out fast.” In Bravo’s home country of Colombia, he says, “even some national celebrities were posting pictures of birds. It’s not something they’d do on a daily basis, but they’re sitting at home.”

Perkins, who has been involved with #BlackBirdersWeek, an effort to promote birders of color on Twitter, hopes that the social media and in-person attention will spark interest in local wildlife that extends into the post-COVID-19 world. “I hope that people continue to go outdoors and make these observations and pay attention to the wildlife that we have around us,” Perkins says. “And [that it’s] helping people to notice that people aren’t the only things that thrive in cities.”  

from Tips By Frank https://www.sciencenews.org/article/coronavirus-covid-19-pandemic-reasons-seeing-more-wildlife

[haleydaytoday]

Its gonna be... I can’t do it

May

I was going to say, “it’s gonna be May.”

Instead I’ll say rabbit rabbit rabbit. 

Did you say that today? 

I once learned about this superstition, about saying “rabbit rabbit rabbit” out loud upon waking up on the first day of the month. The superstition says that if you do this you will have good luck for the entire month. So be sure to say it today. 

April! This past month was really great for me. The season is finally turning, the sun stays out longer each night, and my spirits are picking up along with the weather. Here’s what happened: 

Spring has sprung! 

Summer is my favorite season. There is something about severe afternoon thunderstorms and noisy cicadas on muggy summer nights that makes my soul sing. So, any sign of spring lately has me overjoyed because I know we are slowly melting into my summer. 

fiery sunsets 

walking home from work with the sun still up 

afternoon rainbows 

and green skies.

My college roommate married my college best friend! 

Do you have those two people in your group of friends that everyone is waiting for them to start dating? 

the Jim & Pam, 

Cory & Topanga, 

Lorelei & Luke

those friends that if they finally did get together no one in your group of friends would be able to contain themselves because it was the moment you all had been waiting for...

These are those friends. 

(Hi Rachel!)

Rachel was my roommate junior and senior year of college. We met each other freshman year in a co-ed honors fraternity and that is when I introduced her to my friend and classmate Jake.  It took a few years for the timing to be just right but they have finally tied the knot! 

The wedding was in Annapolis and it was such a beautiful affair. It was so great to see all of my college friends again and spend the night just like old times - singing and dancing. 

Open bar? Tonic and tonic please. 

such a beautiful venue 

I made it to Georgetown Cupcake  

Since having moved down to DC in November it seems like my list of things to go see never loses momentum. A girlfriend of mine and I decided to make the most of a rainy day one Saturday and spend sometime running in and out of stores in Bethesda. 

While jumping over puddles and dodging raindrops we ended up running into a bakery. As we pushed back our dripping hoods it appeared that we had run into Georgetown Cupcake... 

I got the chocolate lava fudge cupcake. 

I had my first visitors! 

As I said earlier, I moved from Philly to Washington back in November. Well, during the 5 months in between then and now no one has come to visit me. 

(Does this say more about me or more about my friends and family?)

Except for last weekend! My two girlfriends from Philadelphia came down for the weekend to visit me. Bre’s birthday was earlier in April and Jenell and I decided to surprise her with a birthday weekend getaway to me!

 I mean, to DC! 

Bre had never been to Washington to sight see before (just for the Nations Triathlon, so you know, she was too busy being a badass to check out the monuments). So we busted ass and covered most of DC on Saturday! 

Bre is a three time Ironman. I think that makes her WOMAN. 

However, Saturday April 29th could not have been a worst day to go into D.C.

It was the night of the correspondence dinner 

The day of the Climate March

And Drumpf’s 100th day in office

Begin unhappy Haley 

A note on the Climate March 

The best signs I saw were 

I’m with her *picture of Earth

The seas are rising and so are we 

We will not go away, welcome to your 100th day 

April 29th, 92 degrees, something is wrong

The march messed up a lot of things for our day of exploring. The tour bus we paid for wasn’t able to reach any of the bus stops or stick to its routes because of road closures. Then around 2:00pm metro shut down, so we spent a lot of our day walking around in 92 degree weather with bus and metro passes melting in our pockets. 

But walking got us to where we wanted to go! 

Lincoln missed the selfie 

We eventually made our way to Georgetown where we sat outside on the pier and enjoyed a meal with the setting sun. We had a monuments by moonlight cruise booked for later that night so we picked a spot and enjoyed a moment of rest. 

May is going to bring another engagement party (4 weddings this year!), a specialty certification for my professional development, and some more photo shoots. 

With April in the books 2017 just keeps getting better and better.

Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit. 

[rememberthattime]

Chapter 19. Seville

Spring has sprung! After months of hibernation, the sun has finally returned!

The birds are chirping, flowers are sprouting, horns are trumpeting, drums are banging, and religious fraternities are parading the streets in their KKK-like hoods... wait, what? 

This Easter, Chelsay and I spent the four day weekend in Seville, and these Spaniards have a muy especial way of celebrating. 

Before getting into Jesus' rebirth in Seville though, I want to write about the resurrection of spring. There were signs of its return for weeks... cherry blossoms starting to bloom, longer daylight hours, Cubs push notifications on my phone.

I mentioned in a previous post that I've taken the same picture in Regent’s Park on a weekly basis, with the goal of making a seasonal time lapse of our two years in London. The problem is that there aren't really seasons here (only "cloudy with leaves" or "cloudy without leaves"), but even if there were, the change just happens in a single day. 

Examples: we left for Greece late last August when it was warm and pleasant in the UK. The day we got back, it was crisp and everyone had their pumpkin spice lattes. Next, we left for Berlin in late October, with colorful leaves still on the trees. We returned a couple days later and everything was dead. 

The same thing happened this April. I went for a run on a Friday night and Regent’s Park was empty, the trees were bare, and the clouds were heavy. 12 hours later, Chelsay and I woke up to go on a walk and the sun was out, the trees were full of leaves, and the park was packed with picnickers. 

We wanted to take advantage of the suddenly spring weather, but rather than finding a spot in the crowded Regent’s Park, we opted for a short trip to Hampton Court Palace, King Henry VIII's former residence. 

Chelsay insisted we tour the palace, so we walked around indoors for a couple hours. This did not interest me for two reasons. First, it was sunny so I wanted to be outside. Second, I do not like medieval history. Everyone was just so dumb then... these Kings ruled with what they genuinely believed to be God-given authority, and then their power was passed down to some incest-conceived child? Back then, 90% of people slept on straw, 70% were illiterate, and 100% seemed to have mud on their face. Not for me. 

What I did like, though, was Hampton Court's gardens. Chelsay and I brought a picnic (food was the other reason I raced through the palace tour), and laid out in the hot sun. Afterwards, we paced the lavish grounds, which included a maze, tulip fields, and immaculately manicured gardens.

This warm day in London wasn't enough to prepare us for Spain though. It was 70 at Hampton Court, but 90 in Seville! 

Upon arrival, we apparently stepped directly into Tortuga Park at Disney World Orlando. Sunshine, very humid, palm trees everywhere, and classically Spanish, pastel-colored homes with wrought iron accents. 

Priority #1 on this trip was to see the Semana Santa processions, which celebrate the Christian Holy Week between Palm Sunday and Easter. So, after dropping our bags at our muy bueno hotel (wrought iron doorways and balcony overlooking the tight streets below), we set out for our first processions. 

These processions date back to the 1500s, and initially featured the men of the church bearing crosses through the city streets to share the pain of Jesus’ crucifixion. The event evolved when the men (known as nazarenos) began wearing cloaks and hoods to anonymize themselves as they openly repented for their sins. Today though, entire families and almost every church in the city take part by dressing in their cloaks and parading their church’s Pasos (think heavy, wooden floats), which depict a particular biblical scene important to that church.

Our first attempt at catching a procession was a problemo. I underestimated the attendance at these things and overestimated my ability to navigate the maze of winding Sevillano streets. We arrived just in time to see the procession passing, but were too far back to really see anything. 

Esta bien: like I said, almost every church has a procession so we'd get a few more shots, starting with El Cachorro. 

I'd actually read about this procession before coming, as it uniquely and famously crosses the Triana Bridge. After our Round 1 problemo, Chelsay and I made sure to plant ourselves in the first row right at the end of the bridge. Even an hour before the procession was due to pass (and with cars whizzing by on the still-open street), hundreds of attendees had already claimed spots. 

It wasn't long before we heard drums in the distance. Horns were trumpeting, and we could just make out the cone hoods rising about the arch of the bridge. This wasn't the nazarenos though, but rather families of the church, with their children dressed in white cloaks and black hoods. I'd imagined the processions would have a more somber mood to them, so this initial pass of happy children handing out candy was a surprise. Something about an 8 year old in a Klansman outfit felt off.

That was just the start though. The children soon passed and then things got serious. Men in religious robes passed with incense whose smoke filled the street. The horns picked back up, and the drums became louder and louder. Men in their cloaks and hoods passed bearing the arms of their cofradias (religious fraternity). Crossing the Triana Bridge, we could see the Pasos rocking left and right as the costaleros (the men honored with the once-in-a-lifetime task of hoisting the paso) carried it through the streets. 

It was a muy caliente to Chelsay and I... but I cannot imagine how hot it had to have been for the costaleros carrying the Paso. These processions genuinely last 8 hours, and these 40 men are tasked with carrying a 4,400 lb relic through tiny, cobbled streets, dressed in heavy cloaks, and in 90 degree heat. If the goal is to share in Christ's pain then mission accomplished.

The result of these costaleros sacrifice is a breathtaking event though. Hundreds of thousands flock from all over the world to observe and pay respect to these Pasos. From the front row, Chelsay and I were in awe: our jaws dropped gawking at the ornate decorations of the Paso, our chests beating to the riveting rhythm of the drums and trumpets, our eyes glazed at the pageantry of the procession, and our souls genuinely stirred at the power of such a striking spectacle.

Chelsay nearly fainted from the overwhelming awe of the procession (…or the heat), so mi senorita quiere una siesta afterwards. We managed to fit a few tapas in our siesta too, including garlic steak & frites, stuffed peppers, fried eggplant, y frio vino blanco. Yo comia en dos minutos.

After our muy delicioso tapas, we set out for two more processions. The first was the San Isidoro just outside Catedral de Sevilla, whose Paso displays Jesus bearing the cross. This procession took a more somber tone than the El Cachorro, as the nazareno slowly paced the streets with tall candles and purple cloaks. (When we arrived earlier in the day, our shoes were squeaking on the cobbled streets. ...Now we knew where the wax came from).

Although processions continue until 3:00 AM, we decided La O at midnight would be our last. This Paso showcased Mary above dozens of candles and a bed of flowers. Like San Isidoro, the music was again reflective of the Paso, with the trumpets taking a more celebratory rhythm. 

And that was it. Seville had delivered. Only one day in and Chelsay and I were already happy to call this trip a success. With two days left, we were already at the "house money" stage… and we hadn't even gotten any chocolate churros yet. 

The next day, we had two goals: see the Alcazar de Sevilla (aka Dorne from Game of Throne) and eat mucho tapas. Crafty Mike read ahead to know that the lines for the Alcazar are always massive. Couple that with the fact that it was Easter weekend and Semana Santa, and I knew the palace would be packed. 

I went into solutions mode and followed my four easy steps to travel success: research, identify risks, respond, enjoy. We purchased advance tickets for the first slot of the day (a reasonable 9:30), but didn't stop there. I was correct that there would be hordes of tourists, and even at 9:30, the entrance line wrapped around the plaza. But while most visitors started their audio tour immediately upon entering, Chelsay and I went straight to the massive palace's most impressive prayer rooms and gardens (aka the GoT filming locations).

We enjoyed the striking details of each space: from the unique Moorish architecture, to the ornately- patterned tile designs, to the limones y naranjas trees in spring bloom, to the quiet babbling of the palace's peaceful fountains. All in absolutely peace and privacy.

After nearly a million pictures, we circled back to do the full audio tour, and ended up being at the palace for nearly three hours. The only reason we left was because we got hungry, which led us perfectly into Objective 2 for the day: tapas. 

We started with chorizo picante bocadillos from the charmingly busy Bodega Santa Cruz and followed with churros y chocolate from Bar el Comercio. I felt like I'd gained five pounds from the churros alone, so we settled for a (still phenomenal) onion and cucumber salad con vino blanco at Blossom, where we took in the Alameda de Hercules square from our shaded table.

It was here that we contemplated all that is Seville. Such an amazing, sunny, warm, and happy place... It's just so damn pretty. Lake Como or Cinque Terre might have Seville beat just given their striking landscapes. But with what Seville was given (flat dust in the middle of Spain), no city has done more with less. Even the bathrooms were muy bonita, with beautiful floral patterns decorating the walls.

Still weighed down by the churros and chocolate, we decided to walk from the Alameda all the way to Plaza de Espana on the opposite side of the city. After baking in the 90 degree heat, we took a very necessary break in the patio of the beautiful Hotel Alfonso VIII. Chelsay ordered a sangria (and housed all of the bar's olives at an embarrassing pace) while I ordered a virgin mojito (any alcohol at these temperatures would surely bring The Red). 

Still thinking it was a virgin mojito, I drank quickly but soon began blotching and feeling dizzy. ...Clearly the drink had drank. The waiters were already keeping a close eye on us after Chelsay's olives incident, and they quickly noticed my condition. With all of their Spanish passión, they apologized fervently for the mixup and covered what would've been our most expensive meal (again, very beautiful hotel). Not only was it free, but I also got a weird, dehydrated buzz for Chelsay and I's subsequent walk through the Plaza de Espana and nearby park.

After our long day touring the city, we then retired back to the hotel and sobered up before heading to dinner (...at 9:30 ...when in Spain). As Chelsay was getting ready though, I relaxed on the rooftop and took in the sounds of the ongoing processions below.

I'll quickly touch on dinner, which was just a continuation of tapas day. We sought out La Bartola given its ratings on TripAdvisor, and were not disappointed to begin with. Our approach for the weekend was to order two plates at each tapas bar, then evaluate whether the place was worth extra dishes. Our first two dishes from La Bartola (beef & peppers and eggplant and olive salad) were probably the two best dishes we had the whole weekend.  All signs pointed towards an all-timer, so we rolled with three more dishes… All failed miserably. This place had so much potential, but left it all on the table. It was the Derrick Rose of dinners. Esta bien though: we satiated our desire at a lively market near the Traina Bridge with tasty empanadas and what can only be described as meat bites served in a paper sleeve. Muy deliciouso, making Day 2 another cracking success. 

Like Day 2, Day 3 had only two objectives: first, to see La Mezquita cathedral in Córdoba, and second, to catch a famously Sevillano flamenco show. Let's start with Córdoba, a classically Andalucian town filled with white-walled homes.

Andalucia is the southwestern-most Spanish province, which nearly forms a land bridge with Morocco. It's this proximity to North Africa that gives Andalucia so many of its Moorish traditions and architecture. La Mezquita is no exception.

From 711, La Mezuita was a palace for Muslim prayer, a fact that is still obvious from its design… and name (La Mezquita means “the mosque”). However, in 1236, Catholics retook the Iberian Peninsula through the Spanish Reconquista, including Cordoba. During the Spanish Inquisition, a period where Spanish Jews and Muslims were either imprisoned or exiled for their non-Christian beliefs, the cathedral became a symbol of religious intolerance. However, since (only) 2000, La Mezquita has welcomed all denominations and is now recognized as a holy place for many religions (it’s considered the third largest mosque in the world).

Like Alcazar de Seville, Chelsay and I knew La Mezquita would be packed. Easter weekend at the main tourist draw in Córdoba? …Research, identify risks, respond, enjoy. Although the mosque-cathedral didn't allow for advance ticket purchases, we were able to find its special Easter hours (opening at 2:30 PM). We craftily arrived an hour before opening, but there was already a massive line! Hmm, how to respond. There were multiple lines for the multiple ticket windows, so Chelsay and I started by joining separate queues. In her brilliance, Chelsay realized that there was actually another line to enter the mosque even after you purchased tickets. From 30 yards away, she signaled to me through a serious of ridiculous hand signs that she was going to start the next queue. 

As I write this, I realize that this sounds like a lot of effort to exert on vacation... La Mezquita is a 10 even with hordes of tourists. Though that's true, Chelsay and I have found that the more we put in, the more we get out. We don't live in Europe just to stay in London every weekend... Instead, we put effort into carefully planning the best adventures. The same is true with our itineraries: we didn't visit La Mezquita to take in its solemn beauty while surrounded by tourists taking selfies. …We're getting the best experience possible and that means putting in a little extra effort. 

As I said, the more effort you put in, the more you get out, and the rewards were stunning. Chelsay was first in line to enter the mosque when I arrived with the tickets, meaning that we'd have at least a few minutes of uninterrupted curiosity among the hundreds of columns and crowns. Chelsay and I (almost literally) ran around in awe of the identical patterns as they seemed to extend forever. After around 10 minutes, we slowed our pace to appreciate the mosque-cathedral's ornate details. As thousands of visitors joined us in the prayer hall, we realized how lucky we were to have enjoyed our blissful private tour.

After the incredible experience in La Mezquita, Chelsay and I spent our evening taking in another Moorish carryover: flamenco dancing. To describe flamenco dancing, I would say it is a very passionate, aggressive tap dance, and I say that with the utmost respect for these performers. 

The show, which we saw at Casa del Flamenco, was one of the most unique artistic performances I've ever seen... and I saw Beyoncé-Jay Z. Truly, every member of this quartet was so talented. There was the guitarist, whose fast fingers rapidly plucked his strings, escalating the show's pace. There was the singer, whose nearly-Berber chants added depth and heartfelt substance to the performance. And finally, there were the male and female dancers, who tapped, stomped, spun, and snapped (and sweat) in blending a genuinely jaw dropping mix of sights and sounds. Because video wasn't allowed, I've transcribed the performance as follows:  tap, tap, spin, taptap, bang, tap, taptap, bang, bang, slide, slapclap, bang, slapslap, bangbang, taptaptaptaptap, tap, stomp, taptap, snapsnap, stomp, bangslap, tap, tap, slapclapsnap, bang. Stop. Applause.

Chelsay and I's Stansted Express train is now pulling into London Liverpool Steet and I’m faced with an impossible task: how can I possibly end a post about a place I enjoyed this much? How can I sum up a place that was so pretty, and sunny, and warm, and happy? How would I capture a place with phenomenal foods, and attractions, and pace of life? What could I possible say to honor a place where genuinely friendly locals passionately honor their deep and prideful traditions? There are no words that I could say except, sincerely: me encanta Sevilla.