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#a rainy day means I post photos from earlier this week
dansnaturepictures · 2 years
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Friday 21st October 2022 (First three paragraphs of text were written on this date)-Evening walk at Lakeside
On Thursday evening our wi-fi went down so like the post from Thursday which I have just posted where I took a few photos in the evening, I couldn’t post my photos or blog on the day on Friday. This also meant I had to work from my Dad’s house for the day and it was interesting whilst there on a mostly dark and rainy in places day with a bit of sun poking through nicely early on too to see some stunning autumnal colour out the back and the regular tree which I took a phone photo of and shared here via my Instagram and others I enjoy seeing out the front there which always go a lovely red in autumn.
In the absence of a lunch time walk I had an evening one as my main one for the day at Lakeside this Friday, and it was nice to do a later and longer one as the impending end of British Summer Time and the clocks going back mean next week (at least with a camera) will be my last Friday evening walk after an earlier finish at work that day until the spring with darkness getting earlier and earlier especially once the clocks go back. It was a blustery walk, there was a fair bit of rain and it was windy which was interesting conditions to be embraced by the outdoors in. Autumn leaves of red and yellow, on trees and scattered on the path as luminous decorations of the ground scenes I love seeing, were lovely to take in at Lakeside and out the front on the walk which stood out from it. There were some lovely pretty sky scenes on the way back and at home tonight too. I took the first three, sixth and final two pictures in this photoset of views on the walk.
There were some great bird moments on the walk, headlined by my first Cormorant seen at Lakeside for a little while. It was moody to see this prominent bird progressing through the gloomy sky, following on nicely from seeing one when going along the road nearby recently. Kestrel seen well at Lakeside again also stood out I am on a good run for them, as did the trio of crows I am enjoying seeing a lot of lately Magpie, Carrion Crow looking enigmatic at the top of the tree and Jackdaws heard and seen really well flying over to roost and it was smashing to see some going into the tall yellow looking trees that dominate the landscape which the fifth picture in this photoset shows, I heard the Carrion Crows well tonight too. A great immersive experience. It was also nice to see Mallards well again on a Friday at the shore of beach lake as the fourth picture in this photoset shows, the Great Crested Grebe really well again a nice low light close sighting of it on Concorde lake which brought back fond memories of our spectacular first ever Slavonian Grebe sighting here in our early birdwatching days in 2007 still one of my favourite ever Lakeside birdwatching moments as it was a rarity for the site I took the seventh picture in this photoset of the Great Crested Grebe tonight, Moorhen, Coot, Starlings flying over nicely and I believe a tit species on the walk. I liked hearing Herring Gull wailing from my Dad’s house today too. I enjoyed seeing shadows of dock a brown plant now standing tall over the meadow of the northern fenced off area at Lakeside still as well as on the green out the front where chamomile looked nice tonight again. Some beautiful mushrooms beside Concorde lake I took the eighth picture in this photoset of some, with some mixing in nicely with ivy leaves it is a good little spot for mushrooms were lovely sights at Lakeside tonight too.
I decided to add this bit to the blog when posting once the internet was back, that due to working from Dad’s, not taking any photos before going in the morning or taking a camera with me, not doing a lunch time walk, it being close to dusk on a quite dark evening when I got back and just not taking any photos once back from Lakeside, before dusk or of anything inside once dark I didn’t take any photos from or at home on Friday 100% of the set were at from outdoors Lakeside or on the way. I have introduced some more selective and efficient ways of thinking when it comes to photos from/at home over the summer months but it has still been a long time since I didn’t take one from home in a day, what with the amount of shots sunsets and other sky scenes, garden birds, scenes of trees out the back and insects about the house and others throw up. The last time I wouldn’t have taken one from home I believe would have been the Saturday the only full day away of our time in the East Midlands for the Global Bird Fair in July, and that was in the middle of the heatwave so I’m sure I’d have found something to photograph from home to record the conditions had we not been away those days. So it felt quite something. 
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notasiren21 · 3 years
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26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)
26. Party Crasher!Luka
I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???
Party Crasher
-Lukanette oneshot
“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”
“Kagami, don’t kill him.”
“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”
“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”
Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”
“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”
“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”
Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”
“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”
Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.
There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.
Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.
Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.
And maybe drooling just a little?
He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.
So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.
He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”
“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”
His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”
She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-
The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.
It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.
“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”
He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”
Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”
Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.
“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”
“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”
“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”
“Nerd.”
“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”
“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”
“... I can kick his ass, you know?”
“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”
“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”
“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.
“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”
“What?”
He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”
“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”
“And who I was to you, specifically-,”
Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”
He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.
“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”
She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.
“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”
She squeaked.
“What, what was the pet name?”
“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”
“What was it?”
Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.
He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.
What. A fucking. Tease.
The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.
He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.
“Marinette-,” he choked.
“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”
He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.
He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.
“C’mon, baby, tell me.”
“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”
“Were you really though?”
“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.
“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”
His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”
The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”
The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”
“You, you came to protect me?”
He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”
She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.
Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.
Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.
She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”
He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”
“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.
He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.
“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”
He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”
The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”
“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”
“You.”
“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”
“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”
He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”
“You.”
“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”
Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.
“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”
He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”
She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.
He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.
“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”
“What about him?”
Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”
He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.
“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”
Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.
Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.
Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.
She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.
“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.
He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”
“Remember our first date?”
“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.
His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.
She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.
“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”
He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”
She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.
But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.
Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.
When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.
How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.
She’s sure she wants this, him.
All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.
She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.
“Do you still remember that night?”
She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.
“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.
One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”
He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.
He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.
“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.
“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”
He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”
She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.
“You did that all on purpose.”
“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”
A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”
“Not even how I taste?”
“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”
“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”
“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”
She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”
“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”
“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”
“Okay, I understand now.”
She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”
“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”
“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.
“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.
“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”
“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”
“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.
He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”
She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”
He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”
She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.
They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.
Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”
Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”
“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.
“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.
He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.
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thebrochtuarachs · 3 years
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Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”
A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.
A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.
AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions
XXXXX
After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.
Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.
The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.
The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.
The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.
“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”
“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.
“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”
“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”
“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”
Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.
“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.
“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”
“And what’s your schedule for the month?”
“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”
Jamie just nodded. The next month.
It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.
“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.
“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.
Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”
Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.
“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.
“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”
“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.
“I told ye it’s daft.”
“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”
Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.
Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.
But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.
Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.
Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.
With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”
Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”
“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.
“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.  
As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.
-
So the four-week long distance trial began.
The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.
Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.
Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.
They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.
It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.
It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.
Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”
With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article
-
On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.
“Ah, lad”
“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”
“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”
“Today? Not yet. Why?”
She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.
She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.
“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.
“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.
“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”
“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”
Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.
“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.
“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”
“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”
“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.
“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”
“A bit but something we can talk about later.”
“Okay”
It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.
It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”
“Why didn’t you call -?”
“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”  
“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.
“Are we okay now?” she asked.
“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.
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ofmermaidstories · 2 years
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Over the weekend, my town flooded.
(content warnings for speculative dialogue about Putin’s invasion of Ukraine and implied animal death)
This isn’t particularly unusual—I live in a rural area, a valley, where the town’s spread over either side of a placid river. Placid in that on a normal summer day it’s not likely to drag you off, or under: when it rains, however, the catchments further north feed into it and given enough of this the river will do what all rivers do, when pushed, and breaks its’ banks.
We’d had a minor flood in January. Minor meaning, in this case, that the sports oval closest to the river and the lowest bridge that connects the town floods out. I live on what the locals call the “town” side, where most of the businesses are—it meant that the January flood was just another rainy season event. Sometimes this happens. The milk and bread and toilet paper disappear from the supermarkets, for a day or two (“I hate when my milky sandwiches give me the runs,” some smart-ass old guy comments on a post fretting about the panic buying, in the town’s facebook group, “These newbies haven’t seen nothing yet,” he warns).
Early last week we flooded again—this time, the water reached past he sports oval and under the highway and to the kids’ park. People post photos of their kids playing on the equipment anyway: giddy teenagers climbing on swings built for toddlers; actual toddlers toeing through the water mistrustfully. Nothing’s impacted, though. The town carries on as usual, forgoing that first, low-lying bridge to the other side of town in favour of our highest one, that slants over the state highway.
But then it rains all day Friday, with a wet weekend predicted. “We’re going to flood,” an older woman posts in the facebook group. “Stock up now while you can, we’re probably going to lose access to the roads soon.”
People panic in the comments, wondering about husbands away down the coast, or whether or not they’ll be able to get to work in the morning.
“Mate,” someone replies to one such comment, “you’ll be lucky if you’ll be able to get to your letterbox the way this is going, let alone to work.”
It’s easy to be curt or mean in a comment but I snort at the reply anyway, thumbing past it.
When I wake up the next morning, it’s to my neighbour’s voice carrying across the property, shouting into his phone that he’s lost power. Beyond his voice, I realise it’s too quiet—my fan, a Dyson knockoff that’s been running non-stop since I bought it earlier this summer, is turned off. We’ve lost power too—along with a third of the town.
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Cutting the power in our case is a safety measure—we’re not close to the river so we’re not at risk of flooding, but the station that oversees our grid is. It turns out the caution is warranted—during that evening, while I lay in the dark making shadow puppets out of boredom and listening to the rain thunder down, the waters rise. The remaining bridge that connects the halved sides of this town together—the highest one we have, over the bottle-neck highway that connects us to the rest of the state—goes under water. The facebook group booms with anxious enquires, check-in posts, people asking for help to move things out of their homes or stores. Our town’s main street is in a basin; nearly half the businesses that make it up flood. People post photos of the water reaching the roof of the real estate agency; the pub. The $2 Dollar shop. The water is mere metres away from the only open supermarket in town—it stays open, though the shelves get stripped quickly. People stand in clumps; anxious, talking about the predicted levels, about more rain being on the way. One man holds a newspaper—Russia’s invasion of Ukraine printed on the front.
(“Could be worse,” he says to another old man, indicating with it, “they’re just like us, you know. Normal people, only now they have to fight off that bastard Putin.”
They’re just like us—the more I hear this phrase, the more I hate it. It’s the implication behind the surprise that we could somehow find other human beings relatable. My neighbour had come over, a few days before the flood, to say the same thing. “What do you think of all this business?” he’d asked, “It’s just not good. You watch the news and you see them walking around and drinking coffee and you think, ‘they’re just like us!’, and now they’ve got that tyrant coming down on them!”
I stare at my grass while he talks. The first tiktok I’d seen that day was of a tired looking man winding ribbon in his hand, surrounded by bouquets; a florist in Kyiv, staying open while others evacuated. They could be for soldiers to give to their wives and girlfriends, someone comments, optimistically. Flowers mean funerals, my friends, someone else says, underneath it. My neighbour shakes his head in disbelief that people just like us could be facing something so awful. On the news that night, an Australian journalist in Kyiv says beseechingly, “they’re just like us. And now they’re facing a war.”
When I hear that godforsaken phrase for the third time, during the flood, I am holding a bag of greens: cucumbers, tomatoes. Stuff that I got easily, stuff that will keep in the heat, that can be eaten without needing to be cooked. I can drive home, taking a rat-run that avoids the worst of the flooding. There are no winners in a Misery Olympics and I generally take most things in good faith—but there’s something so curiously blind in that one, stupid sentence)
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The day drags on without power. I hadn’t realised just how dependant I’d grown on the noise and distraction that was my tablet, my phone, my switch. As it rains on and off, I dig out my sketchbook and draw—doodle, write notes to myself about fics, other projects. Like a missing puzzle piece found under a couch, an idea slips into place about a problem I’d been having—I scrawl it out in barely legible handwriting. R. likes to cook—takes great joy in it, in t—g the time. Taught to us by some—e we resnt.
I try and get as much done by daylight as I can—that night I’m back to making shadow puppets with my torch. I can make a rabbit and a bird with a sharp beak. I have limited reception, at this stage, and about 3% charge on my phone. It takes another percentage just to load the facebook group to see if there’s any updates.
(the first thing I see when it finally loads is a post from when the flood was at it’s worst—a photo of little tuft of land in a sea of brown water, a shipping container towering over a little family of hares, huddled close. “There’s a family of hares stuck on a tiny island at the end of [blank] Drive. Does anyone have a way to help them? A boat? So sad to loose such beautiful creatures,” the poster says.
The comments are filled with outrage. “Shoot ‘em and make hare soup and give it to people doing tough,” one guy says.
“You want someone to risk their life for some pests?” Another asks. This is a farming town—the value of life is black and white. An earlier post had nothing but praise for a young man who ended up diving into the flood waters to help a steer get to high ground. A day earlier, a mother had posted about her daughter’s pet cat and bird, stranded at her father’s. “He’s had to leave them behind,” she explains, “and my girl is devastated. The cat can probably get up high if it needs to, but my daughter is worried about the bird, he’s in a cage. I don’t want anyone to put themselves in danger—no animal’s life is worth a human’s—but if anyone nearby could let me know if the house is close to flooding, I’d appreciate it, just so we know.”
“Pets matter,” someone kind comments. “I live a street over. I can wade in and grab them and keep them at mine until things clear up and your girl can get them.”
“My ex has locked his house so I’m not sure if there’s an easy way in,” the mum explains, the last comment on the post before my phone dies. “but if we could just know if they’re in danger or not—it would be mean a lot to her.”
The ex’s neighbourhood makes the news, a few days later, for a photo of a quad bike, suspended from the power lines, caught there during the water’s peak. When I tell my Dad about the bike, he laughs)
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By the time the sun returns in full, I’m burnt out with facebook and it’s pot-shot replies.
“What the fuck are [energy company] doing?” Someone vents. “We’ve been without power for days now, everything in the fridge’s spoilt, they can’t even give us a bloody timeline.”
“Whinging arsehole,” is one of the many similar replies. “Get some pliers and get out there and help them if you think you can do better.”
“At least you have a roof over your head!” Another one says. “You should be grateful! Instead of complaining! Some people don’t know how good they’ve got it! You should be helping people!”
“I have four littlies here at home,” the original poster replies, to one such comment. “They don’t understand why they can’t play their games or why their mum’s so stressed—her work’s gone under. I get that it’s shit for others but I can’t help anyone if I can’t help myself or my family, can I?”
“Could be worse mate,” someone writes. “At least we’re not fighting off an invasion.”
The thread quickly devolves. (“Why the fuck are we sending lethal aid overseas when we can’t even send friendly aid to our own?” Someone starts.
“We need to send more than guns,” someone else retorts. “We need to send soldiers and kick Putin’s arse back to the kremlin!”
“We need to send Doctors,” comes the correction.
“I read the Russian army is marching with mobile crematoriums,” someone else supplies, unhelpfully. At this stage, reading this, I’m just grateful no one’s said they’re just like us)
“[Energy company] have posted they’re flying in more linesmen to help the local crews,” I end up replying, ignoring the War speculation and the pettiness that’s breaking out. “I hope you guys are staying safe over in your neighbourhood. It must be frustrating for everyone in the house.”
Our neighbour two doors down came up to the house when the rain was coming down hard—asking if we were okay, if we needed anything. He has a generator—gas for a barbecue and sausages ready to go, “if you want a hot feed,” he says. What he doesn’t mention is that he also has three kids—lively ones that like to run with their dogs in the paddock behind our stretch of houses, startling the horses that graze on the hill beyond our street and scaring off the kangaroos that sometimes rest there.
I’m touched that he’s come over, getting soaked in the process. His name is Steve and he has an Irish accent and sells fire wood in a side business he runs from the house. When they’re not at each other’s throats, the facebook group is filled with similar offers, or stories—someone sets up a barbecue on the highway. Literally on the highway, feeding the stranded truck drivers and travellers that now find themselves on an island. They do this for days. The managers of both a rotisserie chain and a pizza store get into their shops with skeleton staff and cook what they have, ferrying it out to whoever needs it. “Don’t be shy to ask,” the manager of the pizza place posts. “No matter your circumstances. if I can provide it, I’ll give it.”
“Does anyone have experience with clipping dogs?” Someone asks. “I’ve taken in an older lady with a little Maltese who’ve lost their home—the poor pup in particular needs a decent wash and dematte-ing.”
“If I can get to you, I’ll bring my wagon.” Someone replies. “I run a dog washing service, we’ll get her cleaned up and pretty again.”
The town is now in cleanup mode, even as the floodwater and rain moves down the state.
I woke up early this morning—a neighbour’s rooster has dried out and gotten his courage back. When I sit up to peer out the window to where the world is still blue and cool, there’s an hare—sitting amid the now overgrown grass and picking out the best weeds, the tallest dandelions, eating fast. The little yellow butterflies—moths?—that went missing in the rain have returned, flitting around the hare and the grass. It flicks an ear when one gets too close and all I can think about is that woman’s plea, for the hares trapped by all that floodwater.
Despite that and the trap of of my own thoughts, it’s objectively the start of a beautiful day—the clear sky above us. I stand up and think about a cup of tea and the hare’s ears twitch again, like he can hear the floorboards under my feet. “Sorry mate,” I tell him; he stills and I snort to myself and leave him to his breakfast. His little world, drying up at last.
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camslightstories · 3 years
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Tolerate it - Part 4
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Notes: Here is the part everyone waited for. I have been receiving so much love from you guys, and I don't know how to thank you. You guys are completely utterly amazing, and I cant wait to give you guys more of this story. I think i can write part 5 in a day, idk, but I will try my best for you guys. 
Thank you so much for your love, it means the world to me. I receive any type of feedback, comments or request, I posted a prompt list so you guys can have a little idea for your request but if it is your own then I have no problem writing it.
Thank you again for reading, I hope you like it.
Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers.
24 hours before
The raindrops overwhelmed the streets of National City. The overwhelming sound of the rain falling was heard all around the city. The way the cold breeze moved the trees. The light of the posts illuminating the city during the cold and rainy night.
You were happily cleaning the decoration table, as you hummed to the melody that has been in your head the whole day. JJ, your boss came walking laughing when she saw your mood. “Why is my favorite pastry chef so happy may I ask” 
“First of all, I'm your only chef, and well like you know I finally cracked it. The lemon pie cake recipe, Lena loves so much. It was a success boss I made four cakes and they are all gone, third I got Lena's favorite flowers and favorite pastry, fourth I don't know, I think that is it” You stopped cleaning before showing her the flowers you had gotten earlier that day, and then the other box with the cake while smiling widely.
The blonde looked at you before sighing, you had worked with her for 5 years now, and she had seen you in the past with Barry and now Lena. She cared about you in her own way, you were her principal chef and somehow you became her friend. The blonde said as she closed the register walking to get her things.“Never change, Danvers.”.
You nodded and kept cleaning and organizing your workspace. Lena never leaves your mind, you knew you had to talk to your sisters and your girlfriend soon because it had been two weeks since the school decided to fire you since they found a better fitting music teacher.
The fact that you worked your ass off in the school, so the children could have the best of you, wasn't enough for them, and it hurt you. What other things have you done, are doing, or will do that are not going to be enough?
Like the time you worked on a project for 6 months straight, not taking care of yourself, working in three jobs, going out of line to make sure the movie sample was perfect. Trying to achieve your dreams, only for the executive director to call you one morning to tell you, they had found some else, someone better. 
It scared you to think about the fact that Lena may find someone else, you knew she deserved everything she wanted and needed it, she deserves someone who was smart, stable, powerful, someone strong who can give her anything, someone without trust or abandonment issues, someone perfect for her, and you had a long way to be that person for her. 
But every time she had seen your insecurities, she had come and reassured you every single thing, she had made your insecurities go away. She had made you feel worthy and perfect for her. But your insecurities had always been a part of you and somehow Lena worked in every step of the way with you.
Your boos whistle pulling out of your thoughts, before making you look up as she threw the store keys for you to close before she concluded “You are way too deep kid”
You murmured as you looked at the raindrops. “How could I not? she is my everything”
The rain covered you completely as you rode your bicycle, the coat on your basket covering the pastries boxes and the flowers. The way your cold shirt cling to you, and your socks getting wetter every time you passed through a puddle. Your soaked hair taking over parts of your face, as you felt the cold breeze hit your face, your breathing became stronger when you started to feel the freezing temperature.
Before entering the lobby of the large building, you tried to get rid of the extra water from your clothing, but it seems impossible. Grabbing the things you entered and smiled when you felt the warm temperature. You watched the clock and noticed the time it was 8:35 PM, meaning it took you over 10minutes to get there. 
Mr. Simmons, the doorkeeper of the penthouse chuckled at you, you were too stubborn to take a taxi or let Lena’s driver, Mr. Smith, to drive you even when it is dangerous outside, you had always preferred to ride your bike. 
After Jeremiah, your dad died, and you felt your world crashing down, you didn't want help. You kept quiet about your feelings, trying to comfort your loved ones, every time you felt you need space to open up alone, you rode your bicycle to the beach and sat for hours thinking, and crying. After a time your bike was the only way you went to places alone, it was the way you remember it was okay to be alone and to be hurting as long as the ones you love are okay and happy.
“Ms. Danvers, good evening,” The man said as he called the elevator for you.
You rolled your eyes at your name, before speaking “Good evening Simmons, we have talked about this call me Y/N, we have known each other for 3 years” 
The old man responded as he chuckled, maintaining the elevator open for you.“Yes miss-...Y/N, I hope you don't get sick”
You mention as you walked inside, giving him boxes with various types of cheesecakes smiling.“I hope so too, Simmons. Here this is for you ” 
“Thank you Y/N, have a great night,” The man said waving at you.
You yelled when the door began to close, the old man nodded and smiled at you. “You are welcome! good night and say hi to your family for me”
Each floor of the building was elegant, classy, and minimalist. The soft LED lights on the top and bottom corners of the corridors, the way the blue and gray color made pop up the white vintage doors. 
You took the key chain out of your pocket, putting the security code in, waiting for the green light meaning you could put the key card in. The keychain was simple, it had the keycard and a polaroid photo of you and Lena, the day you moved in. Lena was laughing at something and you were looking at her as if she had brought down the moon for you. 
You entered with difficulty at the apartment trying to not let anything fall as you spoke before you stopped completely when you saw your girlfriend in one of the bar stools drinking wine.“Baby, I'm home! Sorry it took me a while but it was raining and I tried my best on the bicycle, nut that is not important, what is important in that I have something for you, you are not going to believe me when I tell you that after 3 years of dating you and knowing your favorite cake, I cracked the recipe- ”
You didn't even think about anything else, you immediately turned to her side, putting all of the things on the kitchen aisle, as you asked worriedly while checking her for any types of injuries.“Lee? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen? Do you want me to take you to the hospital? Do you want anything?-”
“I need to tell you something” Your girlfriend interrupted with a tone, you swear you have never heard from her. It was cold but at the same time vulnerable. She glances at the wine glass, not looking at you.
Pain and worries flashed through your eyes when you felt the sudden change of attitude. You felt the wall she had put between you guys when you entered the apartment, no greeting, kiss, or hug. It felt like you were nobody. That morning everything was perfect. Why is this happening now? Why the sudden change?.
You started to say before stopping, taking her in. She was not okay and she needs you now. It didn't matter if you would wake up tomorrow sick, what matter was that Lena was okay.“Lee do you mind if i- you know what that doesn't matter, you are first.”
You quickly went to one of the bar stools and sat down facing Lena. You went to grab her hands, and she quickly put them away from you. There was the moment you knew the hurt in your eyes could be seen by everyone.
You cleared your throat, shaking away the tears that were overwhelming your eyes before speaking, as carefully and softly as possible.“What's up? What did you want to tell me, Lena?”
“Kara told me she loves me” After a few seconds of silence, she took another sip of her glass before admitting.
Your stomach drops. Your throat was caught. You stopped breathing. You felt the world fall down on you. You saw how every piece of the future you had imagined left in the late nights. You knew what was going to happen, just because you studied film doesn't mean you can't solve a simple riddle. You knew the other shoe was going to drop.
You whispered incoherently, still not being able to think or speak “Ohh- i...I didn't- Ummm”
When Lena cleared her throat and her glance and yours connected waiting for an answer. You whispered softly not figuring out what to say “I didn't know”
The silence overwhelmed you. You felt your chest tighten. Your sense of cold and wet clothes in yourself became uncomfortable. The smell of the wine made you nauseous. The way you felt your mouth to go dry. Your eyes blinked away the tears, but the hurt in them couldn't go away. Your hands closing tingly almost cutting blood with your nails. You knew you had lost her, but did you lose her if you never really had her.
“Can you say something?” Lena said with anxiety in her voice, you could see her walls slowly coming down. 
You pulled away from her glance, painfully looking around the apartment not wanting for her to see the pain in your eyes. As your eyes ranked around the apartment memories of the two of you came running through your head as you responded quietly, pained and hesitant of the answer ”Do you...?”
You went, you heard her sigh again, you knew everything was over. You closed your eyes hoping it was all a nightmare, that this wasn't happening, that Lena loved you, and that she wanted to be with you, not someone else, someone better.“Somehow, deep down I felt the same, and that came crashing down”
When the words finally fell out of her lips, all you felt was pain and emptiness. There wasn't anything else but it. You knew you had lost everything, your light, your heart, your world. Right there you had empathized with Kara’s feelings after leaving Krypton. 
You kept your eyes closed, putting yourself together knowing that if you did or said the wrong thing, Kara and Lena would not be happy. And how selfish of you could be, to make two of your favorite people in the world to hurt. You wouldn't do that, to anyone less to your sister and the love of your life.
You knew Kara was better for her, Kara had a stable job, a great personality, a status that can be compared to Lena’s, She had superpowers, she is Supergirl, She was out of this world literally. For Rao’s sake how could she not want her instead of you, she was perfect.
You who was only a 24-year-old woman. You who studied film school but weren't good enough to get a job in your field. You who played soccer and basketball in high school but weren't good enough to make it to college. You who could barely survive in National City with two jobs. You who the school fired because you weren't a good enough music teacher. You who worked at a bakery as the pastry chef. You with trust and abandonment issues. You who had some much baggage because of your past relationships. You who were scared of the dark as a grown woman. You with self-esteem issues.You who were broken. 
You wouldn't be good enough for anything and less Lena Luthor, the good Luthor, a genius, the CEO of one of the most important companies in the world. How could you ever be enough for her?
You took a deep breath before opening your eyes, to see the two eyes you felt more in love with every day staring at you, waiting for your reaction. Lena had thought she was subtle but you saw the fear in her eyes, as tears overwhelmed them. There was the border, you would never want Lena to cry, or Lena to be other than happy and okay. 
You whispered as you slowly got up from the stool putting it back, taking her in, one last time. The weight of the world in your shoulders as you did. “Okay” 
Your eyes examined her hair, as you remember how many times you had comfortably run your hand through her hair after a long day. You saw her nose and remembered how many times you had softly leaned in, sharing an Eskimo kiss. You looked at her eyebrows as you remembered every time she had raised them, when you did something childish funny, before laughing with you. Her cheeks made you remember every time you would make her laugh as the dimples came out. Her lips remained you of every kiss, every time she would ground you with only one breath when you were panicking.
“You know, you two deserve the whole universe, and I know Kara will give it to you, as you will do with her. I know she will give you everything I couldn't, and that she is the better option. I mean we are talking about Kara, she is perfect. What isn't it to love?”Lena was perfect for you, but you knew you had to let go, for her and Kara to be happy. You concluded before walking to the door not bothering to take any of your belongings.
Lena watched you as you walked away in silence, her glance burning in the back of your neck. It was a second before grabbing the doorknob, with tears threatening to come out and a hitched breath you spoke with a sad smile.“You deserved all the happiness in the world, I will come for my things tomorrow morning, I wish you the very best Miss. Luthor”
The moment you closed the door, the world came down on you. Everything was gone. You didn't know what was going to happen to you, you knew you wouldn't go to Alex and any less Kara. You couldn't blame your sister, it was Lena you were talking about. She was perfect, she was the person you fell in love with after 3 months of dating. And you couldn't blame Lena for not wanting Kara. She was royalty, she was perfect, she was the sun, and you were not.
You just knew you had to be okay...for them.
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nbrook29 · 3 years
Text
love you to the moon and to saturn
This is part 4 of my Sander in NYC ‘verse. I posted it on ao3, but recently I’ve also been posting my fics on tumblr so here it is 😌
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 
Warnings: mild sexual content
* * *
Saturday, 10:00
His sleep was anxious, mind too preoccupied with stress to allow him to get a proper rest. The wake up was even worse as mere seconds after he blinked the sleep away from his tired eyes the memories of last night crept back in, flooding him with worry and making his brain replay the argument over and over again like a broken cassette. And then he checked his phone only to find a string of messages and missed calls, all from Sander, causing his stomach to twist with nerves at what they were going to say. 
His abrupt leaving had been a dick move and if Sander was pissed, Robbe knew he couldn’t blame him. So he stalled, finger barely swiping at the screen as he was unsure whether to unlock it and face the consequences or maybe throw the phone back on his bedside table and bury himself under the covers to wait for his courage to come back and for his nerves to settle.
Heaving a sigh, he chose option number one because it was the only rational one. 
He tapped Sander’s photo, holding his breath without even registering it.
Two seconds later he knew.
He didn’t need to worry.
 Sunday 13:00
Robbe hides another smile into his glass at the thought of yesterday’s evening, trying to focus on what Marie is saying. She’s talking animatedly about a guy she met at her new internship, hearts almost flowing out of her eyes as she swoons on the wooden stool and sips her black coffee. She’s the kind of girl who falls in love quickly and falls out of love just as quick. Across from where he’s sitting, he sees Fien and Lucas rolling their eyes at her exaggerated lovesick sighes making him snort in his marshmallow latte.
“Weren’t you obsessed with that lanky guy from Starbucks last week? What happened to him?”
Marie shrugs, tossing her long brown hair back from her shoulders. “I decided he was too old for me.”
“Didn’t you say he was 21?” Robbe interjects with amusement, remembering their group messenger chat he caught up with this morning.
“Exactly!” 
They all start bickering about the appropriate age difference in relationships, Robbe watching them as he munches happily on one of the soggy marshmallows he fished out from his cup, trying not to giggle at Lucas’ scandalized face at Marie calling 21 old. Robbe knows from the many stories Lucas has shared so far that his own boyfriend is a senior at college so his reaction is even more entertaining because of that.
It feels good to be around them again, Robbe thinks to himself. He’s been canceling on them way too often those last few weeks and he still feels guilty about it. They’re a fun bunch, their bantery dynamic established since day one when they all chose the middle row to sit in during their morning classes, and then promptly spent half of it bonding over the outrageous occurrence that was the absence of a coffee shop on the campus. Not long after, Robbe also discovered that apart from the passion for filmmaking, they all also like skateboarding. After that, the rest was history.
They were for sure a nice distraction from Robbe’s intrusive thoughts in the beginning of the semester. He lucked out, finding his group, his people, so early on in his college journey. But at some point even their goofiness and honest attempts at cheering him up weren’t enough. Not since the news from Sander came that he’s staying in New York until February and since the thing with Jens.
Now, observing them from over his half-drunk coffee, lips twitching at some of the more creative but still lowkey insults Marie and Lucas throw at each other, he realizes he has really missed them. They’re like siblings, the two of them, constantly bickering and teasing one another, but it’s all good-natured and amusing to watch. 
“Oh my god, let it go, children, for the love of god,” Fien cuts in abruptly, before turning her big expectant eyes on Robbe, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger and adding innocently, “I’d finally like to hear about Sobbe’s makeup.”
Heat rushes to Robbe’s cheeks and he scratches at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden. She’s the number one fangirl of his relationship, he has learned recently, but in a cute way, not creepy like Aaron sometimes used to be with his invasive questions. She always moans about being forever single, pouting at Robbe for some fluffy snippets and claiming in faux-seriousness that he owes it to the world to share them with others for being lucky enough to have a fairytale-like love story. 
Robbe has never disclosed to them how unfairytale-like some of the details are because it’s not his story to tell. But he really likes her so he always indulges her, usually after a bit of teasing. And, sue him, but he’s proud of his relationship and the fact that he of all people can call Sander his boyfriend, so even if he brags a little, he thinks he has good reasons for it. 
(He’s still kinda smug when he thinks about the time when he showed the three of them a photo of Sander, a pleased little smile on his face at their reactions and playful threats of stealing him for themselves.)
“Oh yeah, I wanna know too,” Marie agrees excitedly, scooting her chair closer to him. “You’ve been all smiley ever since you came over here so I’m guessing that hottie of yours did something right,” she ends on a teasing note, her waggling eyebrows leaving Robbe no doubts she expects some saucy details.
“Oh my god, stop,” he groans as he hides his face in his hands, his friends giggling at his embarrassment. “It wasn’t like that! We just… finally talked things out.”
 Saturday, 18:00 (flashback to last night)
Robbe’s been gnawing on his bottom lip relentlessly, completely unaware, to the point it’s a few bites away from drawing blood. He can’t help but feel nervous, the cursor hovering over the 'accept' button as he's rolling his eyes on himself internally, telling himself to stop making a bigger deal out of this that it needs to be. There is a bit of embarrassment clouding his logical reasoning to be honest, embarrassment about his overreaction last night.
Was it an overreaction? He's still not completely sure, but it's not like avoiding the situation is going to magically fix everything between them. Even though he'd really like that. It feels so awkward to be in this position. Robbe doesn't know what the protocol here is. They bicker, quite often even. Fight a little too, stomping off out of each other’s room grumpily but only over stupid stuff, nothing like this.
He's walking on an unknown ground just hoping he's not going to make things worse. He desperately needs their dynamic back because he's already over it. 
Not being able to share the most mundane every day stuff with each other over texts to joke about it, rile the other up or just vent about something stupid like their coffees not being hot enough on a given rainy morning sucks.
So he takes a deep breath and clicks on the button before he works himself into a never-ending second-guessing.
When Sander says a soft hi and smiles at him with the usual warmth in his eyes, something akin to relief courses through him from head to toe. 
He gives him his own tentative smile and a short hi, pushing himself higher against the pillows. Before Sander can say anything more, he lets go of what has been weighing down on him the entire day.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, contrite. “About yesterday. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just logged off like that without explanation. And then ignore your messages,” he adds after a pause because that’s what he feels most guilty about. He knows he’d freak out if Sander just cut him off without giving him an opportunity to talk things out, would worry himself sick. 
Sander looks conflicted, brows knitted together, like a part of him wants to reassure Robbe because it's in his nature, but the other part is genuinely hurt. Robbe doesn't want compassion. Not for that, because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Causing Sander distress is the last thing he wants.
"Yeah, it did suck," he finally admits after a moment passes, and Robbe finds comfort in his honesty. It’s a good start. They won’t get anywhere with false niceties and pretending everything’s fine. Robbe tried pretending, yesterday and most of their calls before that, and it got them where they are now.
“I mean, I know you didn’t want to talk about your problems yesterday,” pausing, he scrunches up his nose a bit, “but maybe next time just don’t log off so abruptly so I know you’re okay?” his voice tilts on a hopeful note.
Robbe just nods, feeling shameful, hating that there’s not much more that he can do when he’s talking to him through his computer, and can’t exactly reach out to cuddle up to Sander’s side or kiss the underside of his jaw as a silent apology to then stay close for the rest of the evening as they heal together. 
It’s frustrating and disheartening, but it affects them both the same amount and Robbe needs to remember that. Because the truth is, Sander didn’t exactly give him a legitimate reason to doubt him or to think he didn’t miss him. Those full of hurt eyes Sander gave him yesterday at the suggestion have been eating away at him all day.
Robbe just got swallowed by his own insecurities and let the little things that bothered him consume him all instead of, well. Communicating.
Sander was right yesterday. Of course he was.
He knows he has some more apologies to give.
“I’m also sorry for not telling you earlier how I felt,” he keeps pouring his heart out, “and for, you know, assuming you don’t miss me much, and-”
“Woah, hey,” Sander stops him before he can get himself deeper into the spiral. “Robbe, I fucked up too, don’t take it all on yourself.” He adjusts his laptop and Robbe can see his face clearer now, his eyes bloodshot and tired, a clear sign of a sleepless night, and the guilt clogs his throat even more now.
“I should have seen something wasn’t right.” When Robbe shakes his head and goes back to apologizing, Sander shoots him a pointed look that makes him shut up. “I should have, don’t deny it. You know, I took a long walk yesterday after you hung up, to clear my head, but also to get a perspective on our latest talks. And I felt so dumb for not realizing you were not doing okay.”
“Sander, I don’t expect you to read my mind,” Robbe tries to joke, but it falls flat even in his own ears. But he can’t bear those big regretful eyes on him. He doesn't deserve them.
“Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you the way you needed me to. Please tell me now? What’s been bothering you, hmm?” 
Robbe scrubs his face trying to collect his thoughts, to find a concise way to get everything out of his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start.
“It may take a while.”
Sander makes a show of fluffing the pillow he placed against his back and getting himself more comfortable on his bed, sighing with contentment for a better effect. 
“Look, I’m in my comfy clothes, got an energy drink on my nightstand, the computer battery is full and I told everyone I’m busy so they won’t nag me with anything. I’m all yours today.” He gives him an encouraging smile, fondness etched into every crevice of his face.
Robbe’s heart does a little skip at his words, Sander’s demeanor so comforting that he feels the last pieces of apprehension ebbing away, the need to vent overpowering the hesitation of showing his vulnerability. 
“I think I just found myself overwhelmed with some things,” he admits quietly, picking at his nail, an absent-minded habit when he’s nervous, as he’s trying to find the right words. “A lot has changed in those last few months, almost all at once, and I kinda have trouble coping. And like,” he scoffs at himself, “I’m angry with myself ‘cause I should be enjoying most of it, being in college and majoring in something that I actually like, and it’s great, but I can’t help but focus on all the things that are different now, things that are not so great.”
Before continuing, he flicks his gaze to Sander for a second, only to then cast his eyes back to his lap. “The last two years with you were the happiest of my life, you know? After years of bullshit and constant misery and pretending to be somebody I wasn’t I-,” he sighs, bittersweet smile on his lips,”I finally found my person, you know?”
Sander mirrors his smile, but he’s frowning a little. “But you still have me,” he reminds him softly.
“I know, but it sucks when I can’t just, I don’t know, snuggle up you and forget about stuff. It’s all your fault, by the way, you’ve been too good to me and now I have withdrawal symptoms,” he pouts, and hears Sander chuckling on the other side of the screen.
“You have no idea how much I wish virtual hugs were a thing. And kisses, oh my god, kisses too. I’m so kiss-deprived. Once I finally get my hands on you, I won’t let you go for a week.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
For a short moment, Sander manages to bring a genuine smile on his face, but it quickly disappears when the reality sets back in. There are still almost four long months to get through. He watches Sander’s smile slipping off his face slowly and he knows they’re both thinking about it.
The boy sighs deeply. “You know, sometimes I feel like it was a mistake to-”
Robbe’s eyes snap to him. “No, no, no, don’t think that, it wasn’t a mistake. Please don’t feel guilty or something, that’s the last thing I want you to do,” he stresses. Sander still looks conflicted, and fuck, this is exactly what Robbe wanted to avoid.
“Hey, I’m serious. Look, you not being here is tough, but like I said, it’s just things piling up, changing. Shit like school work that has been piling up and me getting so stressed about the end-of-the-semester project because I still haven’t figured out the details. Plus people moving away, all of that makes it difficult for me to adjust. So don’t go thinking it’s because you’re the center of my universe or something,” he ends his rambling with a feigned-offended huff and Sander easily lets them slip into their usual banter.
“I’m not?! Wow, the things a guy finds out after being such a devoted and doting and loving boyfriend.” He wipes the imaginary tear, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Such a menace, breaking my heart in half on this lovely Saturday afternoon.” He purses his lips in offence and Robbe is grateful for Sander’s attempt to lift the mood, trying to be upbeat.
He feels a tug in his chest thinking about how if Sander was here, he’d be tackling him to the nearest surface to shut him up with tickles and loud smooches and playful jabs in the sides and how they would make much more noise than necessary, acting like the rambunctious teens they are.
That’s going to have to wait too. But he discovers this thought doesn’t hurt as much as it would have yesterday because their conversation right now, this opportunity to vent and Sander’s texts last night, all of it makes him feel better, helps him see he’s not alone.
“I love you,” he blurts out all of a sudden, and it’s something he’s wanted to say since he read his heartfelt texts this morning that almost made him cry in relief.
Sander blinks a couple times, surprised, but then his previously playful face melts into such a fond look it makes Robbe blush like it was the first time he said it.
The I love you too comes right away, soft and quiet, like he’s telling a secret, and it’s heart-stoppingly precious.
To keep himself from drowning in fuzzy feelings, he shoots him a private little smile and steers the conversation back to his friends, telling him how it sucks that it’s they all now live away and how unexpectedly difficult it is to meet up. Robbe’s used to basically having everyone at arm-reach.
“We do video call, obviously, but you know, Milan is all loved up with Ralph in Amsterdam and not that keen on leaving their love nest and Zoe and Senne keep traveling between Genk and Ghent, which with Zoe’s coursework and internship is already a struggle. I don’t think they’re doing that well, actually,” he winces, remembering their last conversation.
If during freshman year somebody had told Robbe who his best friends were going to be, he’d looked at them as if they had grown two heads. Because for real, Jana’s new friend and her roommate? And school’s fuckboy? 
But life’s funny like that sometimes. Moving into their apartment in his sophomore year has been one of the best decisions he’s ever made. His number one best decision is currently frowning at him from his dirty screen.
“Oh, that sucks. Do you think they’ll work it out?” 
Robbe sighs deeply, propping his chin on the heel of his palm. “Senne has been thinking about finding a job in Genk so I hope so.”
Sander huffs a laugh suddenly, shaking his head. “Wow, I wish I was in his place and there were only 2 hours between us, instead of a whole ass ocean.”
“Yeah, I think once you’re back we’re gonna have a master's degree in that long distance bullshit,” Robbe smiles at him wistfully. 
“Ugh, never again though. You’re not getting rid of me, it sucks without you, Robin.” He sounds so grumpy Robbe can’t help the short giggle that escapes him, but deep down he’s happy they both share that sentiment.
They’re staring at each other now, enjoying the moment before Sander shoots him a knowing look. “You haven’t mentioned Jens.”
That sobers him up enough for the fuzzy feelings to disappear from his stomach. 
Jens. There’s not much to talk about really. And isn’t that a punch-in-a gut kind of truth considering it was his best friend? Isn’t it heartbreaking that Robbe didn’t even feel like fighting for that relationship and there’s a nagging voice in his head telling him that Jens didn’t either? Just a regular heated argument was enough to finally cut that last string, to put a stop to a friendship that had been hanging by a thread long before. Not that they had noticed.
He felt awful, afterwards. More alone than ever before. But deep down he knew it had only been a matter of time. He just wished Sander had been there to pick up the pieces.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Robbe winces, going back to apologizing once he translates his feelings to words the best he can, hoping he made Sander understand.
The boy pulls a face at him, eyes narrowed as he pretends to give him a stern look. “Enough with apologizing today, okay?” He waits until Robbe nods, albeit begrudgingly, because it’s in his second nature to keep saying sorry when he knows he messed up.
He nestles against his pillows to get more comfortable as he glances to the window, registering that sometime during their call it got completely dark outside, November days getting shorter still. He can feel tiredness starting to creep into his bones, the nervous anticipation before their call he had endured all day wearing him down significantly. 
There are still some things he needs to get out of his chest and Sander coaxes them gently one by one, listening to him moaning and groaning about his school course load and how he thinks he’s not skilled enough to come up with interesting ideas and being quick to cut him off and reassure him when Robbe’s words get self-deprecating. He’s so attentive and so patient with him, not even an ounce of judgement in his eyes that Robbe feels the pressure and stress that have accumulated over the last few weeks finally letting go with each word he pours out.
When the conversation eventually steers to Robbe’s uni friends and he admits sheepishly that he kinda ghosted them lately, feeling too blue to go out and have fun, Sander interrupts him mid-sentence.
“You should reach out to them, tonight.”
At Robbe’s unsure look, he continues, “If they’re as cool as you made them out to be, I’m sure they’re gonna understand you needed some time to figure things out.”
He then proceeds to cover his ears and whistle, refusing to talk more until Robbe caves and shoots a text to the group chat, trying to keep it short, but explaining things along the way and making amends. Sander’s very pleased with his persuasion skills, beaming at him when Robbe reads him the replies he gets from Lucas, Marie and Fien, wearing a small smile himself as he rolls his eyes at Sander’s smug face. 
Sander then asks about his mom and it’s so sweet because he always makes sure to ask, and Robbe falls for him even more each time he does. He’s a bit reluctant when Robbe tries to make him talk about his recent days, keeps saying this call is not about him, but he gives in before Robbe gets upset about it.
Watching his eyes light up with excitement when he talks about his classes works like a balm for Robbe’s yearning heart, Sander’s genuine happiness making his own struggles worth it. It’s a nice reminder that he’s there to make his dreams come true and that it’s everything Robbe has wished for him.
When Sander talks about shenanigans with his friends, Robbe recalls the TikTok video he watched some days ago.
“Nice Michael Jackson moves, by the way,” he comments, trying to sound innocent, but it ends up coming out a little coyishly as he bites at his finger to hide his smirk. 
Confusion clouds Sander’s face but only for a second. Then, his lips stretch in a wide grin and he looks very pleased with the confession. “Have you been stalking me, Robin?”
Robbe shrugs, a picture of innocence as he keeps peeking at him from under his lashes. “I might’ve seen a video or two. They’re all so thirsty for you in the comments though,” he adds, putting a note of faux-jealousy in his voice. He quickly noticed that Sander’s new uni friend is semi-popular on the app so his videos always get a fair share of comments. Ever since Sander appeared in them, the hoard of the guy’s fans has been declaring their love for Robbe’s boyfriend under every video. They mostly make him laugh, but sometimes he’ll roll his eyes at some of the raunchier ones, possessiveness that he didn’t know he had activating in his brain.
He waits for Sander’s cocky comment, but to his utter delight, he blushes deep red and scoffs.
“Shut up, it’s so embarrassing,” hiding his face in his hands, he adds, “All of my friends have been teasing me about it constantly.”
“Aww, poor you, being fawned over must be such a hardship, how do you cope?”
“Oh I don’t know, smartass, you can tell me from experience ‘cause I saw those comments under your old vlogs.” 
Robbe huffs a laugh. “They were nowhere near as detailed as yours!”
“What can I say, I’m irresistible,” Sander quips back and yeah, there he is, Robbe’s favorite (cocky) dork. “If I’d known you’re my TikTok fan, I’d have sent you those videos right away so you wouldn’t have to waste your time searching for them."
Robbe sighs. “They are a nice window to your life there,” he replies offhandedly, not even registering the implied double meaning to his words, but the immediate change in Sander’s amused expression makes him aware of the slip.
Fuck. 
“So you noticed. That I’ve been texting you less.”
Robbe drops his gaze, pulling the cover further up his body, feeling awkward again. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this.
Sander shifts on his bed, scratching at his head. “I felt like I was too much, you know? I wanted to share every silly thing with you, but then, well, it was something Josh said that I should,” he waves vaguely trying to find the right words, “cut back on my ‘running commentary’ ‘cause it’s probably annoying.”
“Tell Josh he’s stupid,” Robbe cuts in with a huff, grumpily beating his pillow into submission to make it more comfortable. 
The corners of Sander’s mouth twitch at his comment, but his face remains sheepish. “I think he was mostly joking, but it got stuck in my mind and made me question every message. In the end, I didn’t send like half of them,” he explains softly, voice colored with poorly hidden self-consciousness. “I didn’t want to give you the impression I don't have time for you, I’m sorry.”
And, fuck. They’re both idiots.
Sander’s brows shoot up when Robbe bursts into giggles out of the blue, clearly surprised with the reaction. But at this point, it feels like the only proper thing to do.
“So basically we could have avoided this whole bullshit if we just talk about all this sooner,” he groans at the realization, burying half on his face in his pillow to hide his heated face because he’s a little embarrassed he blew things out of proportion.
There’s a visible relief on Sander’s face too, eyes crinkling as he regards him with a dopey grin, and Robbe knows.
They’re gonna be fine. 
“Here I thought we were masters of communication,” Sander sighs with a faux-disappointment, leaning back to smile at the ceiling. “Fuck, no more of assuming shit, what do you think?”
And that sounds like something Robbe can get behind one hundred percent, more than ready to leave their misunderstandings in the past and just do better. So he nods, chin digging into his collarbone uncomfortably with the position he’s lying in, but it doesn’t matter, he’s too preoccupied with staring at his happy face and swimming in his fuzzy feelings.
“Prepare yourself for an onslaught of photos and messages, I’m not messing around,” Sander warns, smiling at Robbe’s soft okay. “You know, just a few days ago I ended up at Pebble Beach, it was cold as all fucks, but the view was just,” he imitates an explosion over his head and Robbe giggles at his childlike enthusiasm. Then, Sander’s face softens and becomes a little sad. “That place is so romantic that it made me feel like shit without you there,” he sighs, and Robbe can relate. “I’ll take you there one day.”
“You’re gonna take me to New York?” Robbe asks, doubt lacing his voice as he cocks his brow which makes Sander scoff in indignance.
“Hell yeah! You don’t believe me? What do you think I’m doing here everyday? I’m scouting the best places for dates, finding the best skateparks and checking out all the museums so I can be the perfect guide for you!” Sander throws his hands, a duh expression on his face, but there’s a wide smile brewing on his lips letting Robbe know he’s not really offended or anything. And, honestly, Robbe just melts with his words.
“I can’t wait, baby,” he sighs dreamily, rubbing his cheek against his pillow as he gazes at him with what he’s sure is the softest look. 
Sander narrows his eyes playfully from above the can of Redbull he’s been sipping on. “Don’t ever doubt I’m gonna go out of my way to impress you.” 
Robbe blows him a kiss that morphs into a huge yawn, eyelids growing heavy, forcing him to blink repeatedly to stay away which prompts Sander to tease him a little about boring him, but it quickly dies out and he’s just looking at him fondly.
“You should go to sleep.” He ignores Robbe’s melodic neeees, giving him a stern look that was probably supposed to be intimidating, but he looks too amused to keep it up. Once Robbe gets his promise they will see each other tomorrow, Sander sends him several virtual kisses and goodnights before logging off.
Robbe falls asleep with Sander’s beaming face flowing through his mind.
The sleep that comes is unsurprisingly the calmest he’s had in weeks.
 Sunday, 18:00
Sander: And?
Robbe: And what?
Sander: Was I right?
Robbe: About?
Sander: About your friends
Robbe: Kinda
Sander: So it means I was 😎
Robbe: :):):) yes
Sander: Thank you sander
Robbe: Thank you sander 
Sander: See, you're so precious everybody's in love with you and forgive you in seconds 
Robbe: 🙄 
Robbe: Precious srsly?
Sander: So precious 🥰
Robbe: Omg
Sander: Haha
Robbe: We're good 😊
Robbe: But I don't think they are in love with me 😂
Sander: They better not be 🤨 I'll fight them all! 🗡💀🧟🤺
Robbe: Dork ❤
Robbe: I think they a little bit in love with u though 🤔 
Robbe: They've been babbling all afternoon about how cute you are 🙄
Robbe: A g a i n *yawn*
Sander: They have good taste 🤷♂️
Robbe: Nah they just don't know your annoying habits so that's why
Sander: 😮 I don't have any how dare you badmouthing me like that
Robbe: 🥴
Robbe: You never wash your coffee cups right away so they lay around
Robbe: You always tickle me when you want sth
Robbe: You're full of corny jokes
Robbe: You eat my fries when I don't look 
Robbe: You hog the covers
Robbe: And I still remember that Wednesday when you ate my last bag of chips 💔
Sander: Okay first of all
Sander: Wow
Sander: Don't hold back 🥺
Sander: Second of all
Sander: I THOUGHT THOSE CHIPS WERE MILAN'S I TOLD YOU!!!
Robbe: That's what they all say 💔
Sander: You're unfair, I thought I made up for that lil mistake 🍆
Robbe: Well you did 🙈 but I still remember 😝
Sander: Also you love my jokes
Sander: They're awesome 🤧
Robbe: I'm just messing around 😘😘
Sander: 🥰
Robbe: But I swear to god if I have to listen one more time to Marie waxing lyricals about your 'perfect moles' I'm gonna 🤮
Sander: What haha 😂
Robbe: I mean they are but like
Robbe: Chill girl he's not your man 🤨
Sander: That's right cause I'm your man 😏
Robbe: And don't you forget that
Thursday, 3:48
Soft knuckles brush his skin, body arching into the touch that turns his muscles into jelly and sends liquid fire rushing through him. He’s overheated in the best way possible, seeking out Sander’s tongue, but the boy denies him access, smirk well in place as he pulls back, green eyes cloudy from lust. He’s staring at him like he wants to eat him whole and Robbe almost whimpers, bones melting and lids closing when Sander takes the tender flesh of his neck between his teeth and bites at it ever so gently, but just enough to make Robbe see stars. 
He sighs as he feels a ghost of touch on his nipple, Sander leaving a trail of kisses down his sternum as he’s moving so teasingly slow to his final destination, and he doesn’t even hesitate, spreading his legs wider around Sander’s hips in a blatant invitation, blushing hot pink when Sander sends him a fox-like grin, mouthing at his inner thigh.
The details get fuzzy for a few seconds, Robbe blinking rapidly to get his surroundings and finding himself on top of Sander, and there’s an inkling at the back of his brain telling him something’s messed up about the logistics here. He decides to ignore it, focusing back on the moment and Sander’s glistening, kiss-swollen lips, on his eyes transfixed on the place where they’re connected, and he leans down, his tongue sweeping over his Sander’s bottom lip before he starts pressing soft, spit-slick kisses into his mouth. He pushes Sander’s hands up over his head and intertwines their fingers, arching his back as he takes over, the rush of pleasure almost overwhelming him.
“Ohmygod, Sander,” Robbe breathes into his mouth. His hands are trailing all over Sander’s chest and stomach now, squeezing and rubbing almost like he’s his personal plaything.
It’s not long before Sander’s warm hands draw him back towards his chest, lips ghosting along Robbe’s, teasing, always teasing, but not granting permission to properly meet, making Robbe impatient and whine in desperation only for Sander to grin wickedly at him. He feels nails dragging along his spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, stopping at his cheeks, massaging them to his heart content while Robbe can only pant, rocking back and forth and biting his bottom lip to keep from coming.
He’s an oversensitive, blissed out mess, trying to keep his eyes open to take a mental snapshot of Sander’s lust-blown pupils as they watch each other, Sander fucking him slowly and punching the prettiest sounds out of Robbe’s mouth.
Hips stuttering, he drops back down on his elbows to crash his lips against Sander’s, feeling his body tensing he’s so close and-
Eyes shot wide open, blinking harshly against the darkness of the room. His first instinct is to reach out to the other side of the bed, snuggle closer to the source of heat lying next to him, but his brain catches up with his hands quickly and he stops himself mid-reach, groaning as he flops back on the bed, disappointed. He kicks his covers down grumpily, letting cold air hit his overheated skin, frustrated and too awake to go to sleep now.
Fuck.
 Thursday, 13:08
*photo attached*
Sander: Good morning x
Robbe: Heeyy sleepyhead 😘
Robbe: You look cute
Sander: I had very interesting dreams last night 
Robbe: Oh yeah? 
Sander: Yeah I'm still affected by them 😏
Robbe: Stop it I'm at a coffee shop with the guys!
Sander: I'll have to tell you about it tonight then 😈
Robbe: Can't wait 😘
Sander: Today at 16 my time right? 
Robbe: Yep :) 
Robbe: You know
Sander: Hmm?
Robbe: I might have some of those dreams too last night
Sander: 🥵🥵🥵
Sander: Do tell
Robbe: 🙈
Sander: Now I’m super intrigued 😈
Robbe: How about I tell you tonight 
Robbe: With details
Robbe: Lots of them
Sander: Tonight can't come fast enough 😩
Sander: Looks like I will though 😏
Robbe: Omg you're such a dork 😂
Sander: Did it get u hot
Robbe: No wtf 😂
Sander: ☹🥺
Sander: Kay
Sander: I have to get up now
Sander: I'm late 🙄
Sander: Robin it's raining I don't wanna go out 😩
Robbe: Haha get your pretty ass out of bed and go be a good student!
Sander: Ugh fine 🙄
Sander: I love you ❤
Robbe: ❤
Sander: Hey no, not an emoji, tell me you love me ☹
Robbe: Haha
Sander: Come on
Robbe: 🤐
Sander: Robbe
Robbe: Gotta go 😌
Sander: Okay then 😔💔
Robbe: I love you too idiot ❤❤❤💯
Sander: Yesss 🥰
Sander: Hey that's my emoji 😏 so you like it after all
Robbe: 😂 go to class!!! 
Sander: I'm going I'm going
Friday, 19:00
Robbe checks his phone for time again, not wanting to be late for his call with Sander, but there’s still about half an hour until he should get going. It’s been a pleasant evening and a while ago he would have never called any time of the day spent with his father ‘pleasant’, but there he is. Enjoying his dinner not only with him but also with his girlfriend of six months that he met in July when the first attempts to salvage the relationship with his dad have been made. 
And it’s all because of Sander. The fact that he’s even here speaks volumes about his skill of persuasion. If it hadn’t been for his boyfriend, Robbe would have continued to stew in his own juices and ignored his dad. 
“How is Sander doing? New York is a jungle.”
Robbe huffs a laugh. “He’s good, he fits in well in the city vibe. But, um, he needs to stay a bit longer, till February actually ‘cause the school postponed the art show.”
He goes for another bite, frown on his face at the mere reminder of the change of plans. 
“You probably hate it, huh?” his father questions. 
His only response is to throw him a duuuh look, making his dad snort.
“You should visit him.”
Robbe looks up from over his spaghetti, expecting to see his dad laughing or winking at him, but both him and Margaux are looking at him with unsuspecting smiles, like the suggestion is the most obvious thing in the world.
He exhales a short dad in a laugh, glancing at them back and forth. “I don’t have a spare several thousand euros lying around waiting to be spent on a trip to New York,” he explains, slight exasperation in his voice. 
“Oh I don’t think you’d need that much, Robbe,” Margaux smiles at him as she puts away her fork and reaches for her phone. “A few months ago I was actually backpacking with my friend through the East Coast and, wait, let me check, I have everything saved on my AirBnB account.”
Robbe gets back to his dinner as she scrolls on her phone, trying to squish the building hope in his chest away because even if it’s cheaper than he thinks, there’s still no way he can afford it; his equipment and books for school have eaten all of his savings.
“There it is! Look,” she scoots her chair closer to him, his dad peeking at the phone from the other side. “We stayed in Brooklyn for 98$ a day for a double bed, in Bedford to be exact and the conditions were really nice, plus the train station was close by. I’m sure you could find something half as cheap since it’s just you and the room can be tiny, just to sleep really.”
“That’s a reasonable price, I think,” his dad joins in, and then proceeds to ask her questions about her other expenditures while in the city and the flight prices, debating whether it’s better to drive to Frankfurt and take a direct flight from there or maybe decide on a layover flight from Brussels. 
They are so into the planning and discussing the best options that they both jump slightly when Robbe speaks again, clearly forgetting he’s sitting right next to them, a picture of confusion. 
“Guys, guys, wait. It doesn’t matter if it’s 1500 euros, or even 1000 euros because that’s still a 1000 euros more than I have to spend on a trip anywhere.” 
His dad is so enthralled into checking different flights that he barely raises his head from above his phone, replying offhandedly, “I’ll pay for it.”
And, okay, no. Robbe gapes at him like he grew two heads, spluttering, because hell no.
“No way, I won’t take your money, dad.”
His vehement tone finally makes his father properly regard him and he sighs after a second. “Robbe, please don’t treat it as an attempt to buy you or your feelings.”
Straight to the point, his dad, always has been. It definitely is one the reasons for his refusal, but it’s not only that.
Robbe takes a deep breath to calm down. “Look, dad, it’s still lots of money. I can’t-”
“I’m many things, but irresponsible with money I’m definitely not. So if I say that I can pay for it, it means that I can afford it and it won’t affect me.” He gives him a pointed look. Before Robbe can argue again, he continues. “We can treat it as your Christmas gift. And next year’s birthday gift. And last two Christmases gifts as well.”
Robbe thinks about the packages he received from his father those holidays, and how he sent them back without even opening. Then, it definitely felt like buying his affection.
“You’ve been doing good at school, got into the university you wanted, you’ve been more responsible those last few years that I could’ve ever asked from you. Then you worked during the summer because you were adamant about paying for school stuff yourself. I think you earn it, Robbe. If you don’t want to go for other reasons, then that’s fine, but if it’s just about the money, please let me give you this.”
“New York is the kind of place everyone should visit at least one,” Margaux says gently. She has a warm smile that immediately made Robbe like her, despite really trying not to for obvious reasons. “And I think Sander would love for you to come visit too.”
Robbe has been torn before she spoke, but the mention of Sander reminds him of their videocall a while back, Sander telling him about places he was going to show him one day, being his guide and taking him to his favorite spots in the city. He can see it all vividly now when the opportunity is at his fingertips, can’t stop the excitement filling his body at the thought of seeing Sander before that dreadful February, even though he’s still now sure what to do.
While he’s been lost in his thoughts, trying to come to some conclusion, Margaux has been typing away at her phone. “Dates around Christmas are very expensive, but what would you say about, let’s say, December 8th? Til December 17th?”
Robbe wouldn’t even consider Christmas because there’s no way he would leave his mom alone for the holidays, but… the dates Margaux offered seem kinda perfect. His main project is due on December 4th so he wouldn’t have to worry about that and it’d be fine if he missed classes for those several days. Completely unaware, he finds himself making plans in his head before he even made a decision to accept his father’s money, but when his eyes snap to his dad’s, the small smile he gives him lets him know he already knows Robbe’s answer.
 December 7th, 22:00
His excitement has been uncontainable the entire day, making him so giddy he had to cancel his regular call with Sander because his boyfriend would figure him out in seconds. And that’s the last thing he wants. 
He’s still in shock that he somehow managed to keep it from him, planning a surprise in his head ever since he agreed to his dad’s help and working extra hard at uni to afford missing those 8 days of school. There’s apparently been one close call when Younes almost spilled the beans to Sander during their Zoom, but thank god for Yasmina who managed to effortlessly salvage the secret, improvising and coming up with an easy lie, leaving him unsuspicious of any ploy going on.
And Robbe just. He just can’t wait. He’s been counting hours since last week, his lips yearning to be kissed by his favorite person, body pining for touch and caress. 
Lost in the dreams of their reunion, Robbe’s startled by a ping from his phone, lips stretching in a wide smile when he sees a notification from Sander’s instagram. He opens it, curious, melting when he’s greeted with a graffiti sign saying ENKEL LIEFDE, Sander’s style easily recognizable to him. Underneath, there’s a heart and his own handle and that shit never fails to make Robbe heart stutter. There’s a DM from Sander waiting for him as well, the same photo, but Sander’s caption says The High Line needed its own version of my love declaration for you, but unfortunately I couldn’t find enough space for a redo of your gorgeous face Robin :( So I did this :) You like it?
He replies with a bunch of red hearts, likes the post and adds another heart in a comment because there’s never too many of those. Then he flops back on his bed, a smile glued to his face.
Nineteen hours.
32 notes · View notes
purplesurveys · 4 years
Text
683
PHONE
What is the last game you played on your phone? 1010. As far as I know it’s the game that has stayed the longest on my phone.
What kind of phone do you have? iPhone 8.
Do you have it in a case? Yep. I managed to destroy my old Otterbox case, so I just had it replace with a simple, clear one. I tend to break expensive stuff whether I mean to or not, so my parents absolutely never let me get away with a caseless phone haha.
Do you have a screen protector? Also yes. I have all the things that could possibly protect my phone, because I can be super clumsy with my stuff.
Who is the last person you messaged? Gabie.
What’s the last app you downloaded? I haven’t downloaded anything new in a while but I think it was Google Sheets, which I needed so I can edit spreadsheets while on the go.
Who is the first contact in your phone? Gab, but only because I put an ‘Aa’ before her name lmao. The actual first contact is Alex, a friend from high school.
Do you give people personalized ringtones? Only Gab, so that I know if she’s the one texting or calling.
What percentage is your phone battery? Right now it’s attttt 42%.
Does your screen have any cracks? Yup. Like I said, I managed to slowly destroy my old phone case so when that broke, my tempered glass stopped being as protected as before and eventually that cracked, and my actual screen got cracks as well.
LOOKS
What color is your hair? Black.
How tall are you? My 5′1″/5′2″ ass barely counts as tall.
Are you happy with the way you look right now? I’ve been feeling a lot more confident and cute these days because I recently cut my hair a lot shorter and also got bangs, and it turns out the look suits me! So yeah I’m pretty happy.
Describe your outfit: I’ve been stuck at home in the last three weeks so my ‘outfits’ just revolve around the old t-shirts and shorts I have.
What makeup products are you wearing, if any? No makeup.
What tattoos or piercings do you have? I have my earlobes pierced, and that’s it.
How would you describe your skin tone? A bit tan.
Are your nails painted? Never are.
What color eyes do you have? Really dark brown / almost black.
What is your favorite physical feature about yourself? At the moment I really like my bangs, haha.
OUTSIDE
Why were you last outside? Ugh man, I haven’t been outside in literal weeks. I think the last reason was to go to an optometrist to figure out what’s wrong with my left eye. I also had late lunch out with my dad, and it was the last day everyone got to be out because that evening the government announced the suspension of classes until April.
What’s the last outdoors concert you went to? Coldplay, three years ago. The concert was outdoors, we watched it from a parking lot so that we had a better view.
Do you own a tent? It’s not my own tent but we have a family tent, yeah.
What’s the weather like today? It’s summer so it’s a lot warmer, but fortunately I’m not sweating too much right now.
Do you have distinctive seasons where you live? Nope, we only have sunny and rainy lol.
What is your favorite kind of tree? I don’t have a favorite.
Are you allergic to any plants? None that I know of.
Did you play any outdoor sports in school? Mmm no. I played track and table tennis, which you can play indoors.
When’s the last time you got rained on? Friday. I was relaxing at our rooftop when it started drizzling a bit, so I had to go back inside for a few minutes.
Do you go to parks frequently? I would if we actually had a single park here.
FACEBOOK
Do you have your full birth name on there? All but one name. I took out my middle name so I wouldn’t be giving too much away.
Describe your profile picture: It’s a promotional photo as part of our org’s recruitment campaign to invite students to apply for the org. Idk about other countries but org culture is a pretty big deal here and we’ll pull out all the stops to recruit new members; DP blasts are one staple of it.
What’s the last notification you got? I think it was someone reacting to a meme I shared.
Do you ever upload videos? Never. I never upload anything of my own, unless I’m changing my profile picture.
How many friends do you have? Not so sure but it’s in the 600s.
Who is the last person you added? It was someone from high school who migrated to the US. I sent her a friend request like, 5000 months ago lmaoooooo and she only accepted it a couple of days ago. I don’t even remember the time I added her anymore, and I was surprised when I got a notification saying we’re friends on Facebook now.
Do you use Messenger a lot? Yeah it’s the unofficial default chat app here; everyone is on it.
What is the last thing you posted/shared? It’s a cute doodle of two onions wearing hanbok and greeting each other ‘onionhaseyo’ HAHAHAHA
According to your Facebook memories, what did you post last year? It didn’t give me a memory for today.
What groups are you in? Too many – like I said, Facebook is insanely popular here and is used a lot, by everyone, for everything. I’m part of private groups for several of my classes, I’m in a group for my org, and our org also has a group that includes the alumni, and I’m in several interest groups with people sharing photos/videos of their dogs, their lunch for today, etc.
FOOD
What’s the last thing you ate? I’m about to eat instant yakisoba. I’m just waiting for the noodles to be softened by the hot water.
How about drank? Just water. I don’t really drink anything else at home.
Do you have plans for dinner tonight? Nope. I still don’t know which parent is cooking tonight, and what they’ll be making.
Do you have any food allergies? [continued from a few hours earlier, because I managed to fall asleep in the middle of this survey hahaha] Nope. I’d be so disappointed if I turned out allergic to a certain food, because I looooove eating.
Are you on a diet? I am not.
What’s the last fast food place you went to? I think it was Bonchon. My dad and I went there to pick up lunch a few Sundays ago, because he and my mom were both too lazy to cook.
What foreign cuisines do you enjoy? My all-time favorite is Indian, but I also enjoy Middle Eastern, Korean, and Thai. I’d say Japanese but tbh the only thing I really like from their cuisine is sashimi, sushi, and katsu.
What is your least favorite fruit? All of them. I’m also biased against honeydew, but this is more of an influence from BoJack Horseman than anything haha. I love that show :’(
How many meals have you had today, so far? Two. For the entire break so far my family has been eating late breakfast, completely skip lunch, and get together again for dinner.
What side dishes do you love? I don’t really notice them enough to have a favorite, but I do like the shaved cabbage from Yabu.
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saltforthesea · 5 years
Note
📱 💕🕹 📷 🔑 📖 📝 📔 ☠ 🐷 🌼 📺 🎥 📻🎁 👾👻 (you asked for this bby)
Hahahaha thank you Baby! This will keep me busy for a while
📱 Show your phone lock screen and/or home screen Tumblr is mean and won’t let me insert my lock screen here but it’s light blue and has cute little rainy clouds with very pleased faces on it :3
💕 Your two top fave fictional characters Ugh that’s actually really hard?? like all time fave fictional character ever??? This is impossible to answer omg. I wanna say Matt Murdock and uhm idk WHY IS THIS SO HARD IT FEELS LIKE YOU ARE MAKING ME PICK A FAVORITE CHILD uhm Mark Watney. 
🕹 Video game you are currently playing I’m playing a lot of Fifa19 atm again. 
📷 Post the 12th photo from your phone’s gallery
it’s this one, I saw this on tumblr earlier today and sent it to someone who doesn’t has tumblr so this is why I saved it lmao
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🔑 Key to your heart when someone is able to make me laugh, really listening to what I have to say and accepting me the way I am
📖 Fave bookThe Martian by Andy Weir!!!!! I have read this book like four times and really it is brilliant and I love it so much! I’d probably kill for a signed copy :(( 
📝 Fave quoteThis is not really a quote but a song lyrics from a movie that is very dear to my heart: “ You're a soldier now, fighting in a battle to be free once more.Yeah, that's worth fighting for.” One day I wanna get this tattooed on my body. Also “Je suis prest” from Outlander. 
📔 Do you keep a traditional diary Nope, but I have a bullet journal and I also track my favorite memories in there
 ☠ Something that angers you That I am related to a few people who still think that climate change isn’t real. 
 🐷 Junk food you can never get enough of PIZZA!!! Give me pizza and my heart is yours. Also Ice cream??? yes! I had a lot of ice cream today and I wouldn’t even mind eating more
 🌼 Fave flowerTulips! Especially red and yellow tulips
📺 Fave animeI actually never watched anime, sorry :((
🎥 Fave filmAgain, the Martian. It’s just brilliant. Also Interstellar (I just love space movies!) and Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, the Mamma Mia movies, Back to the Future!!!! and Aladdin
📻 Fave song currentlyRescue me by OneRepublic
🎁 Best gift you ever received and whymy best friend once made me a custom Funko Pop of my favorite book character and she worked on this thing for weeks and it’s completely hand-painted and I just cherish this thing so much!
👾 Do you believe in aliens?I do not believe in movie-ish aliens but I definitely believe that earth isn’t the only inhabited planet. There is something out there and it’s probably 100 times smarter than humans
👻 Do you believe in ghosts?I want to believe that our loved ones never really leave us. So in a way, yes.
This took me almost 40 minutes lmao. I also thought about that fave fictional characters question for like 15 minutes so. Thank you for asking baby
6 notes · View notes
jeremystrele · 4 years
Text
Clare Bowditch On Overcoming Self-Doubt + Being Your Own Kind Of Girl
Clare Bowditch On Overcoming Self-Doubt + Being Your Own Kind Of Girl
Family
Ashe Davenport
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Clare and her husband Marty at home with her twin sons Oscar and Elijah (12) and daughter Asha (16). Flowers by Babylon Flowers. Plants by Hello Botanical. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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Clare at home in Melbourne’s inner north. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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Clare with her husband Marty, who she played in bands with for years before admitting they loved each other. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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Twins Oscar and Elijah. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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Clare with her eldest child Asha. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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Clare with Elijah and Oscar. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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Clare recently released her poignant memoir, Your Own Kind Of Girl. Flowers by Babylon Flowers. Plants by Hello Botanical. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
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In the kitchen with the fam! Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
Clare Bowditch raised her family in an urban community in Thornbury, in a house with no back fence and a mulberry tree in the yard. She creates without fences too, whether it’s music, her memoir or her company Big Hearted Business. She doesn’t like to compartmentalise. Her feelings are a package deal. 
Clare’s new book, Your Own Kind of Girl is a special gift about overcoming self-doubt and finding your creative voice, but at the book launch she only wanted to say thanks. She presented flowers to all the people who helped her, and at one point asked an entire row of extended family to stand in the audience so they could be applauded too.
We met for lunch at North Island in North Fitzroy. She wore an orange printed dress, cinnamon coloured sunglasses and bright earrings that fluttered either side of her face. Clare Bowditch is fresh flowers personified, and orders a ‘stiff piccolo,’ because she’s no shrinking violet.
Virginia Woolf said you need a fierce attachment to an idea in order to see it through. What was yours to your book? What kept you coming back to it?
When I was 21, I promised myself I’d one day write it, which was 21 years ago now. It took that long. I needed to wait and see if my life worked out or not. Back then I couldn’t have imagined it would. I was dealing with what I now know was anxiety in turbo drive. I was in the throws of a nervous breakdown, but I found some things that helped and I was able to recover. Through art, creativity and techniques to manage my anxiety, I was able to imagine a future beyond my immediate circumstances. I promised at some stage I’d pass the baton. If I look at the past two decades of work, I think that’s what I’ve been trying to do. To keep generating that feeling. I imagined one day I’d be a grown up with kids and a dog and someone to love, where I’d make music and then write a book. It’s curious to me and quite wonderful that it’s indeed what’s happened.
Would you say you manifested it?
I took the action steps, I guess. I had a really clear dream as a kid of what I wanted to do. I forgot what it was, as we often do in life. Things get in the way, our self-doubt gets in the way, but then I learned some ways to get through it.  
What do you find works best for you in overcoming your self-doubt? I know you named your anxiety Frank, which is great.
Frank is an umbrella title for a feeling of foreboding. I came up with it during the very early recovery stage of my breakdown, when I didn’t really know how to separate my emotions. Now I know it was just anxiety that needed training. Reading Jack Kornfield helped a lot, as did a really practical little book by Dr Claire Weekes called Peace from Nervous Suffering. She was a stalwart of the Australian post-war veteran field. She helped people deal with anxiety before it really had a name. Slowly, slowly I was able to work past it, but it took until I was 27 to have the guts to put my own songs in the world. I’d been building that courage from age 21. I still have self-doubt, but these days it can motivate me. It tells me I’m onto something. My songs have always sat in me like pets. I can’t rush them. They come when they’re ready and my job is to make room for them. So I just keep showing up with my pen and paper.
Who did you write your book for?
It’s dedicated to Rowena, my sister who I lost when I was young, Doctor Clare Weekes and my dear friend John Patrick Hedigan, who was the first person I shared my songs with at 22. We started a band together and he introduced me to this cool drummer called Marty (now my husband). John fell in love with my best mate and they went on to have kids too. He passed away earlier this year, so his story is in there too.
It’s a love story and it’s dedicated to the legacies of their grand lives, but I think it’s for anyone who is still suffering from self-doubt and needs something positive to read. The first half isn’t an easy read, but it’s a true read, and I really believe if we tell the truth it helps people feel less alone. It’s a hopeful story. 
It sounds like emotionally expensive behaviour, for which we’re eternally grateful. You give so much of yourself in your music too. How do you replenish the tank?
I think it’s a self-generating engine, the giving and getting, so that’s fulfilling in itself. I’m also restored by the same things that helped me recover when I was 21, baking, gardening, walking, reading, crushing flowers in my hand and smelling them, hanging out with my kids. Simple small things, like sitting with my cup of tea and reading my Design Files!
How do you and Marty share the parenting load?
We were in a band together for four years before we finally admitted we were in love with each other, then we became parents soon after that. So the working relationship was already pretty clear, and we had a firm idea of how we wanted to parent. It was crazy, foolhardy behaviour, but it worked for us. Early on I took on the role as primary carer due to biological reasons, I was a breastfeeding mum, but both of us have always been all hands on deck. I feel very fortunate that we get along well. We have to make an effort these days, but he’s my biggest champion, really, just like I am for him. 
Your Own Kind of Girl is also the name of a pretty special song of yours about body acceptance at any size. What does it mean to you?
I wrote that one for my audience, in response to some beautiful letters I received. I often still get choked up when I play it. I wanted to encourage people to count themselves in. I had to tell a painful story of my own to do that, but I truly believe our peace and strength comes from accepting ourselves for who we are. Our relationship with our bodies is complex and glorious. It’s a big journey. I’m happy to have a song like that out there. Every time I play it, it reminds me that my instinct was right. We’re more than our size. I didn’t know it for a long time.
The world has already started telling my daughters what they should look like. I’ve got a three year old who is conscious of the size of her belly because someone at daycare told her it’s because she eats too much.
It was three for me too. That’s when I first got the message. Now you get to say to her what my mother said to me: ’You’re not too big, you’re a peach and you’re gorgeous.’
Here’s the reality, our body size is a complex interplay between genetics and the way we store our food, and the way we eat in response to things and the size of our forefathers. We haven’t really been able to have a great conversation around that. But we have frameworks like Health at Every Size and great nutritionists like Ellyn Satter, who has some really useful thinking around food. Have a read of her in the context of your daughter, because your baby girl has done nothing wrong.
I will. Thank you. Is fostering a positive body image something you do consciously in your household?
My kids have never had to have a conversation around it for themselves. Curiously it’s not an issue. I’ve always been really open with them about my history, and what the temptations were likely to be for them based on the images around us and the stories we’re told. They understand not to comment on a person’s size, just as we don’t comment on their gender, colour, sexuality and so on. They get that every human has a right to be here in this world and be who they are. You do, I do, they do. They also understand the complexity of the grief I was brought up in and how that factored in. 
Have you found writing your book to be a healing experience?
One of the good things about navigating sadness early on in life is that it gave me the sense that I was never going to be ‘fixed.’ There’s functional and non-functional, and things become non-functional when we have no way to speak the truth about our feelings. I used to think there was some place I’d get to in the future where everything would be perfect. Then I realised there wasn’t, and that’s not such a bad thing.
Carey Grant described his journey to healing as a process of pulling away barnacles and discovering more barnacles. Do you relate to that?
Yes, but there’s gold in there too. That’s why we keep searching. Our barnacles are our circumstances, and we have no say over them, none, just like we can’t choose the weather. Just like I can’t choose my body size or birth. But we have this opportunity to choose the next thought.
Your Own Kind of Girl is about the point in my life I decided to tell myself a different story. If I’d continued to tell myself that there was no hope for me, then that would have perhaps been what was lived out. But I told myself I had a chance at a more hopeful story, and I decided to believe it.
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The whole family together at home. Photo – Sarah Collins of Work + Co.
FAMILY FAVOURITES
Rainy day activity
We play a Dutch game called the sjoelbak.
Sunday morning breakfast
My husband is a wonderful cook. Eggs with herbs is his go-to with buttered toast. And a bloody good cup of tea.
Date night?
One of the secrets to working with your partner and still having a love life is going on regular Wednesday night date nights. We usually just find a hole in the wall and toast to the week that’s been.
Go-to album?
Donny Hathaway Live.
Weekend getaway?
We are lucky to have good friends in the town of Castlemaine, it’s only an hour and a half from Melbourne, so it’s the perfect quick getaway. It’s also got a wonderful arts community so sometimes we catch a show at the local theatre.
Ultimate ‘me time’ experience? 
Lying in bed with a cuppa and a wonderful book with golden hour light streaming through the window.
Clare’s first book, Your Own Kind Of Girl, is available now from all good bookstores!
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shadylake-blog · 5 years
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I never knew this kind of misery could exist until this year. Grief is overwhelming. I can easily say this has been the worst year for my family. Every day I try and give thanks that no one else is dead, or dying (well even that is not true a couple family members not doing so well with their health but they do not have cancer or anything that awful, so I should be grateful right?) I have learned being a better person does not make your life easier. Karma does not exist. My sweet poor baby brother, only 4 years younger than me died in January to start my year off. He would be 22 right now if he would have been alive for his birthday this month. I used to love the rain, now I have mixed feelings. That day I knew something bad was going to happen. I wrote the date two times for various things and got chills each time I wrote it. I watched The Butterfly Effect, which used to be one of my favorite movies until that happened, thinking about how true it was. He passed a semi truck with a car in front of them on that rainy night in January heading west towards the coast, that day it just rained and rained and rained. It was 10PM and dark. I was on the exact same spot on the road 10 minutes before the accident, about 10 miles outside of town. He hydroplaned, rolled and managed to defy physics and come back the other direction and rolled into a telephone pole that hit the drivers side. Completely demolished the car. Passenger was unscathed. He had a pulse for 20 minutes on scene, and was never taken to a hospital at all to even attempt to revive him. Just thrown into a body bag once pulse had stopped... makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. At midnight I realized I had 36 missed calls from my mom and step-dad. I was busy arguing with my controlling gas lighting “boyfriend” about tattoos, he was made that I got them. I was thinking someone got pulled over for driving while suspended or something. I never thought about my brother dying, not once my entire life. My mom blubbered “He is dead,” I said “What do you mean?” “He is dead your brother is dead he got in a car wreck” “No it can not be him are you sure?” “Yes I am sure” (can barely understand her both of us just completely blubbering and hysterical now) “How do you know did you see him?” “The police came and told me, his wallet was on him it was his car.” Now having never dealt with death in any way shape or form, not even a distant cousin, I did not know how to react other than scream. I had a slight hope maybe someone stole his car and wallet, because the passenger was not one of his friends I knew, it was someone I had never even heard my brother talk about. But I cried and screamed for days and days and days. The next morning I immediately went out to the crash sight which was right behind my moms house across a big field and put up a cross on the pole. It was still pouring, I had another one drying at home with his name on it. The scene was horrific. They left all of his costs and personal belongings just strung out all over the side of the road.PIECES OF SHIT. After they let him bleed out. Puddles of blood all over the ground in the mud. His car title, personal mail, the coats he had on that night (the passenger posted a photo of them before they left and ten minutes later he was dying) other things he had in his car like work clothes and nails and tools, he was a roofer. He always had those rings of nails everywhere. Just left out like hes worthless trash. The lack of respect for a dead 21 year old kid you did not even take to the hospital...Fucking disgusting. I went out and cleaned everything up. I could not even see my brother until Wednesday, 4 days later. It was a Saturday night when it happened. Towing company would not even let us look at his car until Tuesday. My step-dad, mother and I looked at the car in complete horror. It looked like it been crushed. How the passenger escaped unscathed I really have no idea the entire dashboard was caved in, windshield gone. Blood all over the drivers seat and floor where they just let him lay there and bleed out. Somehow his weed pipe (that was under the passenger seat in a toolbox he was not smoking and he does not drink) was not broken, neither was his phone which was smashed in between the drivers seat and console but it was cracked. We always told each other our passwords in case something like this happened never thinking we would actually have to use it... That day he asked probably 20 people to go all day including his girlfriend, and he could not get anyone to go until 10 o'clock at night when the passenger had said sure I will go. The last thing his girlfriend said to him was “I wish you would go kill yourself”, they had been together for 3 years. I know that when people are arguing they say things like that, I do not hold it against her but its unfortunate she has to live with that being the last thing she said to him. His steering wheel and dashboard were so crushed the keys had to be forcibly removed, I still carry the sideways key around on my key chain because this has made me completely insane, as if I did not struggle enough with depression and anxiety before this from constantly being broke trying to raise a child on my own and never having daycare. That is a story for another day. But this has really fucked me up. He was not a sibling I occasionally see on the holidays, that’s who I called when I really just needed a friend. We went camping and hiking all the time together. We never sat on our phones when we went so we hardly had any pictures together. He was always there for me as a child and an adult, even though I was such a bitch when we were younger. He was always so good to me, the best brother anyone could ever ask for. I hear these people talk about the things their brothers do them, and I am like my brother would have never done that to me... He was such a good person even when people did him wrong. He had a heart of gold and was so unique he had so much potential and was just starting to grow up. Besides my child, there is no other person in the world I loved more than him. I have two other siblings but they are 14 and 11 years younger than me. I love them but I do not share the same bond and he was my only full sibling. When I actually finally got to see him at the morgue (and I was the only family member that even went to see him the rest found it too “traumatizing” I wanted to see what the hell happened) my stomach sank. It was definitely him. My poor little brother, laying on a fucking slab. I just kissed his forehead over and over wishing I could somehow blow the life back into him... I know that can never happen. He will rot in the ground forever. It was just a slight dent on his head under his hair. His beautiful brown hair. You will never convince me he should have not tried to have been saved. I have seen people survive way worse injuries but they were taken to a hospital. They literally just let him lay there until his pulse stopped. I’m too poor to afford an attorney. Just like my grandpa that I never met, but I have been told by my entire family he was beat by a bunch of police officers and left to die in the hospital. My grandmas mom was overdosed in Tylenol at the hospital and her sister died of alcohol poisoning because the hospital would not treat her. Why are the poor just left to die? Because the poor can not afford lawyers, and they know it. I visited him almost every day for the 2 weeks in the morgue, we did not exactly have 5 grand laying around for a funeral so I had to gather some money before the services. I felt awful letting him stay in a morgue that long, but my other choice was cremation which I do not believe in. I wanted it to do it as my native american ancestors did which was bury him outside in a cave but its illegal. I have seen too many cremations where people get the wrong ashes when the DNA test them and I wanted a proper burial, and a place to visit him. We built the casket since I was not paying an additional 5 grand for a wooden box with pillows in it. My stepdad found old redwood on the farm and various other woods to build it with. My brother would have liked it, because he loved to fall trees. He did it for fun almost every time we went to the woods. “Sis, lets go to the woods so I can cut down a tree.” He called me Sis even as an adult. The handles were made out of deer antlers, his first deer that he killed. I bought him a red comforter set because that was his favorite color. I dressed him in his banana pajama pants and his work shirt, because he loved roofing, and one of his cozy flannels. I hope you're cozy brother. Lots of people showed up to the funeral. At least 100 people. My boss and coworker, my brothers coworkers, all my family, even distant family we never really speak to like my grandpas brother. People I did not know. My moms ex husband (my other siblings father) and his parents came. It was a very sad day, watching my grandparents cry as he went into the ground. Everyone took turns getting up to speak. I did as well, but it took so much courage for me to get up there in front of everyone and not bawl and bawl and bawl. I have never seen so many grown men cry in my life until that day. I tried so hard not to bawl but when he went into the ground I lost it, everyone did. We waited until he was buried and smoked a joint on his grave and planted some flowers even though it was freezing and raining and cold. I really did everything I could to make sure he had a proper burial. The celebration of life was a week later, another day we had to put fake smiles on our faces and socialize. What is amazing is how many people it united. But it comes back to The Butterfly Effect, if I would have said hey lets hangout. If I would have been on that road ten minutes later, because I was right fucking there right before it happened. If anyone else would have said they would go and he would have left earlier. Most importantly, if they would have taken him to a hospital and actually tried to do something instead of letting him lay there until his pulse stopped and then throwing him into a body bag. I will never, ever forget him and will never let his legacy die.
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dansnaturepictures · 3 years
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31/10/2020-Lymington and photos in the garden before: The 5 landscapes pictures in this set are different to any I tweeted tonight 
There were three striking similarities with my day today and that of Saturday 21st March 2020. My Uncle came round for a visit (following current social distancing guidelines for meeting up indoors), I took a picture of a Starling in the garden (the second picture in this photoset) and we went to the Lymington-Keyhaven nature reserve. That day the Pennington marsh part of it, today the nearby Lymington (Normandy marsh) end. And of course two days after 21st March the first UK-wide coronavirus lockdown was announced and we came home to the announcement of the second English lockdown for most of November today. Appropriately on Halloween, whilst the possibility of this upcoming lockdown has really been hanging over us a while, the parallels felt spooky. 
I would like to say here that as I have done at every stage in the pandemic I of course back any move which is going to get the case numbers and prevalence of this cruel and horrid virus down, and I feel this lockdown had to happen. I know this is going to be an extremely difficult time for us all and I am fully aware that there are people sadly in employment terms a lot less lucky than me in terms of both job security and having work to focus on in the dark days of November and my heart, thoughts and prayers really do go out to you all and your families, but I do personally reflect on the fondness of the act of lockdown back in the spring (not the reason for it in any way) and especially things like having so much more time and really connecting to nature so I hope this as a consolation of this unfortunately necessary set of restrictions can be regained and the spirit of honouring our NHS heroes and coming together can also return. 
I would also like to use this as a chance to say what this means for my hobby. As expected like the lockdown that began in March daily exercise outdoors is a permitted reason to leave the house, but what I did not expect was for the Prime Minister to mention recreational activities outdoors alone, within households or on a one-to-one basis with another person from another household. So this does mean day to day for me right now not a lot will change. Social distancing is so easy to do when nature watching and I am incredibly thankful compared to people with other hobbies to have got to do so much of mine safely still since March. My walks alone in the week are just that, and a valuable and needed as long as I can activity to supplement or go some way to the usual walking and breathing in fresh air I would do in a day working from the office and Lakeside the country park on our doorstep is a refuge for me for that. 
But as we interpret the new regulations, I would just warn that I will reserve the right to omit locations of any of my photos and walks that I write about during the lockdown period. This is something I always reserve the right to do and I do it when rare or sensitive species are involved. I just feel that whilst I do not believe with the people I reach on social media hoards of people are suddenly going to turn up and look for a bird or something I have said I saw at or posted a picture of at a site, you just never know what a post could prompt. And the point is that I will have a camera with me and binoculars as long as weather and other factors permit, and during a lockdown I may not feel that it is always appropriate for the posting of something being at a location or where some nice views are to be a so public and the main point of posting is to show the species or views and remark on what I may have seen whilst taking a walk. If I feel it is safe to do so in terms of the species and I trust that the person will follow all restrictions to stay safe in order to try to see the species or place themselves, then I am happy to discuss with local (as there are restrictions on travel) people via private messaging means. Not something I imagine will come up during the coming month, but once again you just never know. 
Back onto today and alongside the Starlings I took the first pictures in this photoset of a House Sparrow on the still nicely yellow buddelia in the garden and more autumnal leaves scenes out the back including the third picture in this photoset of some autumnal looking leaves on a bush in the garden. 
Interestingly Lymington was the first place we went by the sea following the lifting of the first lockdown on the second May bank holiday Saturday, and I haven’t been back to that end of the reserve whilst I’ve been to Pennington a lot since. I took the fourth-eighth pictures in this photoset of beautiful views here today these all pictures I did not tweet to reduce the amount I did as I took 30 pictures today but I wanted some wildlife pictures in this blog of which I didn’t take a lot today so I didn’t do a full 10 exclusives in this like I often do. The photos all help show I hope what a great late autumn/early winter afternoon it became in the sun after another very rainy start to the day as we spent the time with my Uncle in the morning. Included in this was that quite nice light for this time of year and the novelty at this stage post-clocks going back the sun setting as the walk ended and heading down all afternoon making some nice scenes and enjoying sunsets outdoors and not from home for a change whilst I love them from my room too. 
There were some great bird moments too as I enjoyed seeing a lot of wader, duck and geese species, particularly nice Brent Geese flying in I love seeing these birds here at this time of year one of my favourites. There were so many Wigeons about too. We got chatting a social distance to a nice gentleman who was really into birds too which was great he was the one who let us know that there was an announcement from Downing Street this evening actually so after speaking to him we rather made the most of seeing certain water birds around not knowing at that stage when the lockdown would come in so thinkng we may not be back to the coastal habitats for quite a while. Earlier in the walk I took the ninth picture in this photoset of a lovely Oystercatcher and one of the species I made the most of seeing was another of my favourites the Little Egret which I took the tenth picture in this photoset of. I also enjoyed seeing a nice range of flowers here today; sea aster, broad-leaved clover and some common toadflax one of the prominent of many I have enjoyed learning this year.
On the way home we saw a spectacular and gigantic full moon over the beautiful New Forest landscape a great end to a great Saturday I hope you all had a good and safe one. 
Wildlife Sightings Summary at Lymington: Three of my favourite birds the Brent Goose, Great Crested Grebe and Little Egret, Spotted Redshank, Redshank, Ringed Plover, Turnstone, Dunlin, Oystercatcher, Curlew, Black-tailed Godwit, Black-headed Gull, Great Black Backed Gull, Herring Gull, Mallard, Wigeons, Little Grebe, Woodpigeon, Carrion Crow, Rock Pipit, Meadow Pipit and Stonechat. 
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ts1989fanatic · 7 years
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SWIFT-WATCH
Where in the World Is Taylor Swift? An Investigation.
Is she hangin’ with Ed Sheeran in a mythical forest somewhere? Or being transported in a piece of luggage? One thing’s certain: The world’s biggest pop star has been very MIA.
AMY ZIMMERMAN 07.19.17 1:00 AM ET
ts1989fanatic this so called writer is no fan of Taylor Swift, so if you don’t want to almost puke and end up enraged by this TRASH read no further.
Taylor Swift is the teenage tattoo of A-List celebrities: Every so often we remember that she’s still there, and we don’t quite know what to do with her.
The pop star has been more or less MIA since last summer, when Kim Kardashian took to Snapchat to out Swift as a stack of snake emojis hiding inside a patriotic onesie.
Taylor Swift—an incredibly calculating celeb who nonetheless managed to market herself as the naïve girl next door—might be a snake, but she’s our snake. In a galaxy of eye-roll-eliciting Katy Perrys and rage-inducing Rob Kardashians, Swift always stood out as a celebrity who could generate an infinite amount of relatively inoffensive content about herself.
ts1989fanatic there are several snakes mentioned in this post including the writer, but Taylor is not one of them.
From her rotating cast of Ken doll boyfriends to her famous squad, Swift consistently made headlines. Love her or hate her, but show some freaking gratitude for a woman who would go on a double date with her friend who is currently dating her ex-boyfriend just to feed us clickbait-hungry monsters.
ts1989fanatic Calvin Harris is a Ken Doll OK sure this writer is a moron, and the double date was not to feed idiots like you.
When Swift was exposed as a liar and went into hiding, the entertainment blogosphere lost one of its brightest stars. Swift elegantly toed the line between A-list celebrity and overexposure—a line that Kim Kardashian promptly pushed her over. So it’s no surprise that the media-adept star reacted by doing a total-180, transforming from “girl who gets papp’d every day” to “mythical nocturnal creature who may or may not subsist on the burnt offerings of Ed Sheeran.”
ts1989fanatic I’m still waiting for the unedited full conversation and not the 90 seconds of chopped and edited BULLSHIT that KARTRASHIAN put out to prove Taylor as a liar (until then calling Taylor a liar is CRAP)
Keeping a low profile is one thing, but shipping yourself out of your own apartment is quite another.
ts1989fanatic This has already been proven as BULLSHIT and retracted.
Swift-Watch 2017 reached a new nadir earlier this week, when word spread that the star had been carried out of her Tribeca building in a piece of luggage. Stories like “Taylor Swift Was Definitely Not Being Carted Around in a Giant Suitcase” quickly debunked the rumors, but, still, if you have to clarify that Taylor Swift is not cramming herself into a trunk every time she wants to go to SoulCycle, clearly something is up. So how, over the course of one year, did Taylor Swift go from one of the biggest pop stars in the world to a potential human carry-on? What has this woman been up to? And why does Ed Sheeran always seem to make everything worse?
ts1989fanatic Taylor is avoiding IDIOTS like this writer so that she might actually have a normal relationship and a little privacy from being mocked by the media over everything she does.
The Crab Walk
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At this point, the story of Taylor Swift’s Snapchat outing is the stuff of celebrity lore (more specifically, North West’s bedtime story). After Swift fell back on her traditional victim narrative, complaining that Kanye Westreleased a vulgar rap about her without her permission, Kim published footage of Kanye running the offensive lyrics past Swift in the studio. Swift’s lies held up about as well as a street-cast model on an hours-long Yeezy runway, and the pop singer was quickly denounced as a calculating fake. But we didn’t understand the full weight of Kim’s public image assault until a few weeks later, when Swift was caught crab-walking out of her gym to avoid the paparazzi. I’m not saying that Kim Kardashian hypes herself up with a few lines of Pixy Stix every night and watches this video of Taylor Swift walking sideways, but I’m not not saying that.
ts1989fanatic Taylor has always tried to find different ways to avoid the paps, do you all remember walking backwards down a hiking trail I do.
‘Jury Duty’
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The VMAs are a site of trauma for anyone who hates bad fashion and Canadian tuxedos. But the annual awards show is particularly triggering for Taylor Swift, whose years-long feud with Kanye West began on that very stage. So when the VMAs rolled around so quickly after Swift’s Snapchat fiasco, the star turned away from her walk-in closet full of sequined mini dresses and opted to fulfill her civic duty instead. Yes, Taylor Swift, image-crafter extraordinaire, managed to avoid a high-profile awards show appearance by claiming that she had jury duty the next day. Knowing that that was a “dog ate my homework”-level excuse, Swift obviously had to go the extra mile and actually show up to jury duty. While a Nashville judge eventually dismissed Swift as a potential juror in the case, the singer still managed to befriend a few lucky Tennesseans—including a local resident who got Swift to sign her copy of The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. You truly cannot make this shit up.
ts1989fanatic It was not a claim that she had jury duty IT WAS A FUCKING FACT.
R.I.P. Hiddleswift
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There are suspiciously paparazzi-friendly dates, there are fake Hollywood couples, and then there’s this. Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston announced their brand partnership when they swapped spit for the photogs on a bunch of rocks—as one does. It was perfect synergy from the very start: Tom Hiddleston wanted to become James Bond, and Taylor Swift likes white boys. The “human relationship” proceeded in a manner characteristic of typical human relationships. 
They ate dinner together, held hands, and traveled the world. Swift even let Hiddleston pick out an interpersonal relationship party favor from her closet of affirmational tank tops. Unfortunately, Hiddleston didn’t appear to “heart T.S.” enough to stand by her side once her stock started plummeting—either that, or Swift realized that having such an artificial-seeming relationship was making her look even less authentic. For a deliberately manufactured relationship, Hiddleswift was pretty ill-timed. 
Tom Hiddleston was not Taylor Swift’s most famous boyfriend, nor was he the pettiest. He wasn’t Harry Styles or a Kennedy. He was, however, the most willing to plant his ass on a bunch of cold pointy rocks and make out for some pictures. R.I.P., Hiddleswift: gone but, thanks to an army of dedicated paparazzi, never forgotten.
ts1989fanatic yes their relationship was short lived but this does not mean fake, only two people in the world that know the truth the rest is just Speculation.
Halloween!
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Taylor Swift was Deadpool for Halloween, I guess.
ts1989fanatic And you point is you PUTZ
Decision 2017
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Despite not having the balls to endorse Hillary Clinton, self-described feminist Taylor Swift urged her 102 million social media followers to “Go out and VOTE.” It worked out really well. Thanks a lot, Taylor.
ts1989fanatic Taylor could not win either way if she endorsed Hillary she would have been attacked for that. Taylor Swift is not to BLAME for TRUMP.
Two Directions
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Though technically released in December, Swift’s Zayn Malik duet truly made waves when it was featured in Fifty Shades Darker, a movie about having the least kinky BDSM sex imaginable in Seattle. In January, Malik and Swift co-starred in a music video for the track. Someone on Wikipedia has written a better synopsis of this music video than I ever could: “The video starts with Zayn emerging from his car on a rainy night as the paparazzi take photos. As Zayn enters a hotel he starts singing his part and as the chorus begins he reaches the elevator with red lights and then pans over to another elevator with Swift singing her part and proceeds to her hotel room. Zayn in his room sings the chorus and Swift pours some champagne in a glass. The rest of the video is Zayn and Swift throwing objects like glasses, lamps, pillows across their rooms in anger.”
ts1989fanatic Take synopsis shine it up and stick it were the sun don’t shine.
Super Bowl Bonanza
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Swift performed her first and quite possibly last concert of the year in February, telling the audience that, “By coming to this show tonight, you are attending 100 percent of this year’s tour dates.”
ts1989fanatic this part I can’t disagree with.
The Ed Sheeran Rendezvous
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Who cares?
ts1989fanatic Millions of fans do you stupid fucking idiot.
Mystery Boo
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In May, news broke that Taylor Swift was months-deep into a relationship with British actor Joe Alwyn. While anyone who’s familiar with Swift knows that up-and-coming Brits are her personal heroin, the real surprise was that the singer actually pulled off a secret romance. For months, Swift and Alwyn made like Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk and weren’t seen. A wig was reportedly involved. By the time news leaked, Swift was allegedly already looking at houses in the U.K. (although, to be fair, buying real estate in her new boyfriends’ neighborhoods is what Taylor Swift does between following back on Instagram and going on a first date).
ts1989fanatic that crack about buying real estate is garbage that was something she did once and could easily and probably was coincidence. 
The Drop
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Taylor Swift will never miss a chance to screw over her enemies, even if she has to orchestrate her vengeance through a WiFi hotspot that she set up inside her giant suitcase. Taylor Swift came here to do many things—make out with the hottest guys, put more fiddles in pop music, name her cat after Olivia Benson—but she did not come here to play. Katy Perry learned this lesson the hard way in June, when Swift quietly released her entire musical catalog on Spotify the same night that Perry dropped her new album. Perry’s abysmal “Witness”—which featured a diss track about TayTay—just couldn’t compete with Swift’s entire oeuvre. It was a rough day for Katy Perry, and a great day for 15-year-olds with Spotify premium.
ts1989fanatic Sorry but KP deserved all she got.
America the Beautiful
While something has obviously been off in Taylor-world this year, nothing cemented this fact quite like Swift’s refusal to throw her annual Fourth of July party. No one event has ever encapsulated the American dream quite like Swift’s mandatory summer squad meet-ups: a mosh pit of blonde beauties with flat stomachs enjoying water sports and baking Pinterest-worthy goodies in red, white, and blue bikinis. 
This year, instead of heading for Swift’s Rhode Island estate, the squad was left to their own devices. Most notably, model Karlie Kloss celebrated the Fourth by posing for an Instagram with Kendall Jenner—Kim Kardashian’s half-sister. Kudos to Kloss for finding the only other celebrity in the world who probably can’t name a Destiny’s Child song(and has been accused of a far more egregious act of cultural appropriation). Kloss’ decision to spend Swift’s favorite holiday with a Kardashian was read as an insult, leading to the possible conclusion that Kloss and Swift are no longer besties. Adding overblown insult to imagined injury, Lorde was later caught insinuating that she and Swift are no longer co-squad members.
And then there was only… Martha Hunt.
ts1989fanatic Karlie was at fashion week she���s a FUCKING MODEL that’s her job IDIOT, as for Lorde that’s already been clapped back on by Lorde herself.
For someone who gets paid to write, you suck at it maybe you should get into writing fiction that’s pretty much what this whole piece was.
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Casa to Barca, part one: Random men sitting with me in silence while I eat
I’ve always wanted to go to Morocco, so when I got to Senegal and was putzing around on the internet, as one does, and discovered that flights from Dakar to Casablanca were only like $100 I decided I was going to make it happen before my Fulbright was over. Then, when I was in the planning in my head but not actually scouring travel blogs and booking stuff stage, I downloaded VirtualBox and started running Windows parallel on my Mac (see an earlier post about that) and the default background for Windows was a photo of a beautiful landscape in a magical-looking place. I did some image-based searches and discovered that place was Ronda, a small city in the southernmost Spanish province, Andalucía. So I decided I would go there too. Ronda is indeed a magical place, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
This trip was a bit more than two weeks total so these posts might be a bit long, so I’m going to divide them up into smaller parts. I’ve already posted some of my favorite pictures on Wanderlust and will be uploading a few more as well as some videos shortly.
So! I flew into Casablanca, which I had heard was nothing special from a touristic perspective so I just went to see the big famous mosque, Mosquée Hassan II, hung out in a café for a bit and then took the bus to Marrakech. I flew through Madrid to get to Casablanca (ironically, since later I went to Spain but not Madrid) and I realized while I was tying to sleep on the couch at Starbucks that the last time I was in the Madrid airport was when I was leaving Senegal in 2014. It was raining when I got there, which was bizarre because I hadn’t seen rain in at least seven months (since the rainy season here hasn’t started yet).
Anyway, my taxi from the airport took me right to Mosquée Hassan II. They are not messing around with that thing, it is absolutely one of the largest and most beautiful structures I have ever seen. I happened to be there at the call to prayer, which was deafening from directly below the minaret but I love me a good call to prayer so that was a bonus. I spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out in a café in the main plaza, marveling both at how I seemed to be the only woman sitting at a sidewalk café out of the hundreds of patrons around the plaza and also at how if I didn’t know where I was and someone told me I was in Europe I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Seriously, Casablanca looks and feels so European. Then I went to the bus station and was totally mind blown by how fancy it was and then was even more mind blown by the bus I took to Marrakech, it had the most leg room I’ve ever had traveling in something that wasn’t a train and maybe even then and each seat was like a small lazy boy recliner with like a foot rest thing that popped up and everything. I guess since I was coming from the Senegalese context I was expecting Moroccan travel to be a bit more similar to the sept-places and mini-buses of Senegal and perhaps that was unfair or presumptive but man, was I wrong. To be fair, even once I got to Spain I kept almost burning myself in the shower because it never occurred to me that there might be hot water. I get so wrapped up in however/wherever I’m living.
Marrakech was kind of meh. The proverbial ‘everyone’ is always like “obviously Marrakech is a must for any trip to Morocco” but everything was the exact same color (seriously, by law everything has to be a terra-cotta orangey color because otherwise sandstorms make the buildings too dirty) and the medina is cool but parts of the newer part of the city kind of look like when rich suburbs try to give their “downtown” that “downtown” feel by unnecessarily putting the shops and restaurants into strips and the parking lots in the back, but all the stores and restaurants are still chains and you’re like “well, you tried”. There was even a Fudruckers. Like. What?  What even is Fudruckers? But I digress. 
Like I said, the medina was cool as always – every mid-size to large Moroccan city has a ‘medina’, or at least it would seem to me that’s the case, which is basically the “old city” and generally only accessible to pedestrians (except in Marrakech motorbikes were allowed which meant that my life flashed before my eyes every two minutes, it’s okay though it made up for the uniformity of color in the excitement department). The medinas are always labyrinthine and full of narrow alleys and little maze-like paths with vendors selling sweets and tea and scarves and oils and accordingly they’re generally the main tourist attraction. Plus all the cool monuments and mosques are usually inside the medina. The Marrakech medina was the same color as the rest of the city, but since it was my first medina I enjoyed wandering around, until I got to the souks, or market area, which is when I realized what a couple of my friends who had been to Morocco meant when they said that Marrakech is mostly for tourists to shop. In the middle of all of this is a huge square that has at least 50 of the exact same—seriously, they’re all identical—juice stands set up in rows in the middle surrounded by some ladies doing henna on little benches under umbrellas and snake charmers playing for giant cobras which were just casually hanging out on the street which seemed like a good idea. I got a lot of juice from those stands, it was so good and it was so hot outside, but it was always a bit stressful because when you get close they all start yelling and trying to get you to come to their stand but since there is no distinguishable difference between them it’s hard to choose and I would think okay I should go to the first guy I make eye contact with but then it was always too much pressure and I felt bad for the guys that I didn’t buy juice from. As I write this I’m realizing that maybe that’s the point…
The highlight in Marrakech was actually my hostel, which was right in the center of the medina and was exactly how I would picture a hostel in Morocco. It was ‘riad’ style, which meant it had an open air ‘courtyard’ in the middle and then each floor looked down into that, except instead of a garden in the ‘courtyard’ as is required to be an actual ‘riad’ it was a bunch of rugs and cushions and low tables and the whole place was dimly lit with those metal lanterns with the holes punched in them in cool patterns. When I got there I knocked on the door and the guy who opened it immediately said “Kyla?” which surprised me and then he gave me my first thé a la menthe (mint tea, Moroccan signature, so good) and some weird things that were either crackers or cookies. There were only two other people there, a Congolese guy who appeared to be living there while he worked at a travel company call center (probably practical, the place only cost like 3 euros a night) and a Slovakian guy who was touring the world on his motorcycle.
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^ Lighting wasn’t great for photos, but I tried
While exploring, I came across a café where you could also get henna, which I did because I missed having henna on my hands and arms all the time like I did in India since the girls would practice on me. Then I had my first ‘Moroccan crepe’ from a lady making them on the street, she even put an egg in mine for me and made me a little sandwich and I had that with some tea for lunch for a dollar. Thus began my love affair with Moroccan crepes.
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^ My henna, while drying and the next day, and lunch
To get to my next destination, Imlil, up in the Atlas mountains about an hour and a half outside Marrakech, I took a ‘grand taxi’ which is as close as you’re going to get to a Moroccan sept-place except it’s a 2013 model Toyota minivan and it only seats six which means that being in the way back doesn’t break both your neck and your spirit which was good since I was in the way back. As you drive out of Marrakech the mountains quickly come into sight behind the clouds and then all of a sudden you go from the desert to the forest and mountains so fast that I actually missed it because I was selecting a podcast to listen to.
Imlil is tiny and quiet, most people use it as a base to climb Mount Toubkal, the highest peak in the Atlas, which I did not have the time nor the gear to do. So instead I decided to try to find this waterfall that I had heard tell about. However all this hear-tell had not included the factoid that there are in fact two waterfalls, one which is about a mile up the mountain and the other which is about 20 miles up the mountain. So, long after I had passed the impossible-to-see turnoff for the path to the waterfall I was actually looking for, people I was passing in the little villages and trekking teams with their mules were telling me “yeah, yeah, just keep going you’ll come to the waterfall”. Eventually it had been several hours and I sat down on a rock and said to myself okay, you’ve definitely walked more than a mile at this point. Since the hike had been lovely so far, with great mountain views complete with bubbling springs and wildflowers, I decided to just backtrack. I made a pit stop at a rooftop restaurant I came across in a little village that seemed entirely dedicated to housing trekkers preparing for the ascent, except I was the only person there so when I asked the guy hanging out at the bottom of the stairs if the restaurant was open he looked at me like I had just asked him to marry him for a second and then recovered and said uh yeah sure and led me upstairs to the terrace which had a stunning view but all the chairs were on top of the tables and he scrambled to put them down and then came over and asked what I wanted to eat and I said well what do you have and he was like well what would you like and I was like uh do you have tagine and he said no, we only have Berber omelets, which seemed pretty straightforward so I got that. No regrets there, turns out Berber omelets are really good—they’re basically deep-dish omelets made in a tagine (the cone shaped thing that they make Moroccan food in) with tomatoes and onions and all kinds of yummy spices.
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^ My Berber omelet and the view 
They guy who brought the omelet upstairs, not the same guy as before, put the omelet down in front of me and then pulled up a chair and sat sort of across from me and said absolutely nothing for like five minutes before getting up and leaving while I stared with great determination at the omelet waiting for it to cool down a bit which was really strange but turned out to be a theme in Imlil. When I got back to my hotel, which I had wisely chosen based on the quality of the roof top terrace and view (10/10, plus my room was also on the roof so all I had to do was step outside to enjoy it) I took my first hot shower which was super exciting and then sat outside for dinner, which was vegetable soup and then a vegetable and chicken tagine that was as breathtaking as the view, the guy who seemed to be the sole person running the place also sat silently adjacent to me while I ate for the most amount of time possible without me exploding from confusion and awkwardness before getting up and leaving. I always thought it was annoying and invasive when men outside of a normal social setting in which such behavior would be acceptable (i.e. a party) asserted their ‘right’ to my time and attention but my god this was so much weirder.
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^ Tagine and the roof terrace 
But anyway to get back to my hike, I was just about back to town when I saw out of the corner of my eye a small path going straight down next to me and a tiny sign that said “waterfall” with an arrow…and so I actually did find the original waterfall, which was full of day trippers from Marrakech and some industrious locals had set up a little restaurant on the rocks next to it and everything. I took a different way back, following the irrigation canals down to the main street.
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^ The waterfall 
The next day I was pretty tired so I mostly hung out on the roof and read and ate more tagine and Moroccan crepes and drank tea, but I also spent a few hours trying to find and eventually finding the radio tower, to get the panoramic view of the valley. One would think that since you can see the radio tower from almost everywhere it wouldn’t be hard to get to but one would be wrong. I spent a lot of time making false starts up the steep rocky hill below it before I finally found the actual “path” that led up there, and when I got up there I couldn’t stay long because despite the view being beautiful it was so windy that I couldn’t stand up during one of the gusts because of a legitimate and well founded fear that it would blow me clear off the top of the mountain. (My pictures from these hikes are on Wanderlust)
The next day I was heading to Fez and I was a little bit stressed because my train was at 10:45 from Marrakech and it would take about an hour and a half to get there and you have to wait for the Grand Taxis to fill up before they leave which could take five minutes or an hour so I got to the station/town parking lot as early as I could and I walked in and told the guy who had a clipboard and reflective vest and therefore seemed to be in charge I was going to Marrakech and before he could even say anything another older white guy who was getting into a car said “we can take you, we’re leaving now” so I got a free ride straight to the train station from a Montenegrin man and his daughter. Funny how things just work out that. Continuing the trend of things working out, I got to the station and my Moroccan friend had advised me that I should switch out my second class train ticket for first class one since it was usually only a few dollars more and you were guaranteed a seat and it was much more comfortable for the kind of 9 hour ride I was about to do, so I decided to take his advice. I got my new ticket and then went and got a coffee at the McDonald’s in the station and waited to board. When I threw my coffee away I also threw away my old second class ticket because that made sense to me and I can’t read Arabic so I did not know that it said on my new ticket that it was only valid alongside my old one. However the ticket collector on the train could read Arabic and so just when I was settling in to my comfy first class train car and celebrating my good fortune he took my ticket and goes “where’s the other ticket” to which my only response was “uh”. Long story short, he said I had to buy the second class ticket again, which had been $20 and I was basically beginning him to have mercy, like how could I have known?? and so he literally gets on the phone, calls someone back at the train station and has them look in the trash at the McDonald’s, but they don’t find it so in great agony I bought the ticket again. Then the very, very nice older lady sitting across from me felt bad and was like it’s okay I would have done the same thing, you couldn’t have known and then she reached into her purse and pulled out the equivalent of ten dollars and insisted that I take it because she didn’t want my trip in Morocco to be stained by having to buy the ticket again. Then when I came back from the bathroom I discovered that her daughter, who was sitting next to me, had bought me a juice from the food cart guy. Traveling is humbling.
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pcttrailsidereader · 7 years
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The Last One to Canada Loses
I began following Manny last May (see May 29, 2016 post) and even included the announcement of his arrival at the Canadian border (November 7, 2016). However, that final post included the barest of details.  His follow-up, more recently written, is very compelling and includes some stunning winter photos. The bottom line is, as he admits himself, he was fortunate to arrive at the border unscathed.  He includes a strong appeal for future thru-hikers to finish well before the snows arrive.  Consider this a cautionary tale.
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By Emmanuel ‘Manny’ Forge
This time last year I was sitting on a bit of a secret. I was planning to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. But I couldn’t exactly shout it from the rooftops. I had a job to keep through March.
Some days after work I’d slap on my weighted vest and hop on the treadmill. I’d pour countless hours into researching the thousands of dollars of equipment I’d end up purchasing. And all these months later, after the walk was said and done, I can honestly say I was not prepared. But the reason might not be what first comes to mind.
Five years before hiking the PCT, I rode a bicycle across the United States. And for that adventure as well as the PCT, if I was going too slow, I’d just go longer. Simple enough. In both cases I didn’t plan my stops in advance. There were no packages mailed in advance or at a later date. What I needed I brought to the starting line or picked up along the way.
When I say I wasn’t prepared for the PCT, I mean that I wasn’t prepared for what I had to face at the northern end of the PCT.
Thousands of photos after my April 24 start in Campo, California, I found myself in Washington the following October with hundreds of miles still to go.
I put myself into life threatening danger. By the grace of a few lucky breaks, I reached Canada unscathed on Oct. 24. Because of how the weather unfolded in Washington that month, and my position at the back of the pack of hikers, I believe I was literally the last set of continuous footsteps to reach the border.
The saying I heard time and time again along my hike was: “Last one to Canada wins!” But I think it’s time the trail community puts that saying to rest. The last one to Canada is more likely to die than win.
Hiking becomes mountaineering when fresh snow is involved at high altitude. And the bottom line, PCT hikers who start in Southern California do not carry the equipment needed to cover hundreds of miles in mountaineering conditions.
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One of the most important lucky breaks I caught was heading into Stehekin one day before a huge storm hit the North Cascades, dumping a foot or two of snow above 6,000 feet. I was completely unaware it was coming. By this point I was so close to Canada, quitting was almost unimaginable. Fortunately, my timing was just right for me to catch the ferry across Lake Chelan, wait out the storm for a couple days, and return with snow shoes, extra thermal layers, waterproof winter gloves, rubber boots and micro-spikes. About the only reason this all fit on my back as a manageable load is the 85L Gregory pack I started with back at the border of Mexico (which is 30% larger than a typical PCT hiker pack).
I caught the last bus of the season out of Stehekin back to the trail head October 15. I was the only one on board.
In Chelan, I researched the weather closely and determined I would likely be walking into at minimum a foot of snow, with no footprints in front of me. To handle this challenge of walking blind into the wilderness, I downloaded the Earthmate app by Delorme, a GPS app that allows the user to pin way points on top of USGS quadrant maps. But I have to add again, I gave myself a break months earlier by buying a waterproof phone designed to work at higher altitudes, the Samsung S6 Active.
Aware of the danger at this point I called my dad with a plan about what to do if he didn’t hear from me in 10 days. And I set off.
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After Rainy Pass (Oct. 18), constant post-holing and waypoint checking made hiking a tedious process. Averaging between 0.25 and 0.5 mph, I got up and over Cutthroat Pass in 6 hours in snow depths ranging from 1 to 2 feet.
Let me pause to emphasize how ridiculous this would’ve been to encounter without all the extra gear or the GPS app most of all! Quite easily I could’ve been a couple more days ahead of that storm at Stehekin, not purchased this extra gear, and woke up one morning to a winter wonderland that would’ve sealed my fate.
I got lucky. The next person hiking the PCT in Washington in October might not be so lucky.
It’s just a dangerous experience all around before you even start considering things like avalanche risks.
The miles at the very end were so draining above 6,000 feet that before the ascent to Harts pass I bailed on the PCT and followed a Methow River route I found on the USGS quadrant maps. From there I was able to follow the Robinson Creek Trail to the border, crossing above 6,000 feet only two more times (and maintaining continuous footsteps).
Most hikers I encountered relied solely on the Guthook or Half-Mile apps to walk the trail (myself included). But ultimately neither of these apps would’ve shown me an escape route to safety. The paper maps saved the day.
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Lucky timing, access to funds and equipped gear stores, and will power helped me survive that stretch from Stehekin to the Canadian border in October. But I don’t even group those two weeks into my PCT experience. Those miles were nothing like the warm air and melting snow of the Sierra. They were about survival.
I’ve shared my experience because I want to light a fire under future PCT hikers to finish before October and to always check conditions at higher elevations as if their life depended on it. Because it might.
Moving forward, I recommend all long distance hikers carry paper maps like USGS quads to reveal more information about the surrounding areas than is provided on the PCT apps. Because this extra information alone could save a life when it counts.
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elsaeckhardt-blog · 7 years
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26 februar: Vacation Highlights
hello again my friends!
This past week I had winter vacation and did some pretty neat stuff! It was really strange not having an agenda; normally on vacation I’m doing something every minute of every day, but here I truly “relaxed” daily. It was nice at the beginning but I definitely prefer having a packed schedule. Dead time led to a little bit of homesickness especially with it being spirit week at my school in VT, but the highlights of vacation undoubtedly overrode that feeling. Here are the highlights! :)
feb. 17 (fri.) On Friday I had school but it was only for half of a day. I got my visa (finally!) at the police station in Ålesund city, which wasn’t very exciting but I guess it means I’m a true semi-resident kinda ! One thing I thought was funny that happened there was that Helge (my host dad) parked in front of a car in the parking lot because it was the only space, and he simply left a note on the other car’s windshield with his phone number if they needed to leave. I don’t think this is a common thing to do but it does represent the more relaxed lifestyle here in contrast to that of the U.S. If someone tried pulling this in NYC it would not end well. The rest of the day was pretty mellow, but I did go to McDonald’s with Frida (my host sister) which was an experience 😱 The milkshakes are made with real milk and they are so, so good. Mickey Ds here is a little more expensive than the U.S. but much better quality. 
feb. 18 (sat.) Saturday was fun!! I woke up and made American pancakes for the second time for Frida which was v yummy. We went bowling and I definitely for sure 100% won both rounds. It’s exactly like bowling in the U.S. 🎳 We went to a get together later that evening which was awesome, made some fun memories! 🙃
feb. 19 (sun.) Had a super chill day! Didn’t do much except for eat, run (jog 😅) and sleep :)
feb. 20 (mon.) On Monday Frida, Martine (a friend & very good photographer) had a mini photo shoot at a really cool spot near the sea. Frida is too modest to let me post any of her but she is quite photogenic :)) Somehow I was persuaded to go swimming despite the 40 degree rainy weather for some shots (it didn’t really take much persuading, it was quite an adrenaline rush😁). Chilly chilly ! Later that night Elisabeth and I made some carrot cake which has lastest us almost all vacation 🥕  
feb. 21+22 (tues.+wed.) On Tuesday night some buddies and I had a taco night which was a blast. Taco nights are pretty popular here (v easy to adjust to). The next morning we had Norwegian pancakes which were good, but I have to say I see why fluffy American pancakes have such an appeal 😋 Good food with good friends!
feb. 23 (thurs.) hair cut! 💇🏼 While this seems like a low key event, it was an experience for sure. Haircuts are really expensive here; a simple cut is about $85. It’s kind of like going to the spa- you get offered tea or water, they give you a mini massage when they wash your hair and they style your hair once it’s cut. One thing I noticed was that those awkward silences that happen between you and the hairdresser in the U.S. don’t happen here; silence is simply peaceful and accepted. My hairdresser did ask me a few questions about the U.S. which was fun- I definitely like talking about America because despite the current political situation people kind of idolize it (expect a blog post about that!). The whole process took a little over an hour but was worth it! After dinner that day I decided to go on a run, but of course I procrastinated for a few hours and didn’t end up going until about 9:30. It was the first time I had ever gone on a run that late, and something about the snowy weather and darkness made me want to explore. I came across some really cool spots, like a forrest with a path/lights, a little isolated neighborhood with cookie-cutter houses, a really pretty bridge and some other places. I love how many little secret places there are around my house, it’s really special.
feb. 24 (fri.) On Friday I went on a hike with Gert (contact person/second host dad)! We were supposed to hike a mountain called Gamlemsveten but the roads were too snowy to get there, so we actually went on the same hike I last blogged about. Although it was the same hike, it was a totally different experience in the snow. We only went halfway because the peak was super windy/powdery/dangerous (I have to admit I really wanted to keep going). Unlike the first time, there was almost no one out hiking. The landscape was totally different. You could only see mountains in the beginning of the hike, and as we hiked higher it got colder and more windy and the visibility got shotty. At the top of the hike it began hailing pretty hard which was so cool-  the gray landscape all around us plus the unpredictable weather made it intense. The energy at the top was noticeably different from the base. I absolutely love this sport.
feb. 25 (sat.) Yesterday I went alpine skiing for the fourth time ! Every time I go skiing it gets better. A few of my friends and I went to Overøye, which was the very first place I went skiing in Norway a few weeks ago. This time the whole mountain was open, and similarly to the hike on Friday it was a totally different experience than the first time. At the beginning of the day Helge dropped me off at the bus station in Sjøholt where I met my friend. We took the bus for a little bit and were met at a bus stop by our friend that had a hytta on Overøye. We put on our gear and skied straight from her hytta to the base, got our tickets and started skiing at around 11. The mountain only had poma lifts and T-bars but there was a surplus of terrain. It was an AMAZING powder day!! Throughout the whole day there were runs you could take with knee deep powder. I’ve skied powder on the east coast but I have to say it doesn’t compare to Norwegian pow! There were way more open trails filled with powder as opposed to glades which I really liked. I could talk forever about how awesome it was but I don’t want to make any of my friends in VT jealous ;) It was a really, really fun day!
feb. 26 (sun.) Today was the last day of vacation and it was perfect 👌🏽 Frida and Helge and I took a trip to Standal, a region with a beautiful fjord. We took a ferry then drove on a little dirt road alongside the fjord. The further we went the more rural it got. There were storybook Norwegian farms and old houses along the sea and stunning mountains overhead. It was really powerful being that close to the mountains. We passed some hyttas tucked away past the fjord near a different set of mountains which again, was like a storybook. We drove in a loop and ended up in a little town where we got Chinese food. It was freaking delicious. We headed back to the ferry and home again, and here I am typing away!
I want to quickly speak to how breathtaking the mountains here really are. I was lucky enough to experience them on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and like I mentioned earlier, the energy among them is of a different capacity. The greatness and the stillness of the mountains are overwhelming, and it puts the smallness of everyday life into perspective. I’ve always dreamed of being in this type of environment with such stunning landscapes, and I have tremendous respect for the mountains and fjords that exist here. The photos don’t convey their wavelength, but they do give some insight as to how they are.
Thanks so much for reading this update!! Have a great week and for many of ya a great vacation !
Love love, elsa :)
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leireunzueta · 7 years
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How I edit my landscape photographs taken with Fujifilm cameras
Last week I received an email from a fellow photographer wondering if I could explain how did I finally manage to edit my landscape work with the Fujis. That is why I decided to write about what the process has been like for me. 
My journey with Fujifilm cameras started a couple of years ago when I wanted something smaller and lighter for my trips. Back then, I used to bring a full backpack with a camera, several lenses, filters and a tripod. For cityscapes though, I would bring the 6D and one lens. I remember that it always ended up being a big hustle and so uncomfortable to carry it around from one place to another. So I made up my mind, and chose to get a X Pro1 with a couple of lenses. In the summer of 2015, before going on our month and a half trip to the US and Canada, I really wanted to get familiar with the new system and went to shoot several portraits in the forest with some friends. I was sold immediately and that’s when my love for Fujifilm cameras started. I really enjoyed the sharpness and the quality of the images and I loved the camera itself. It was one of the most beautiful cameras I had ever seen and so much fun to shoot with. 
While in the US, I took the X Pro1 around NYC and other cities in California, Oregon and Washington. I was really happy, it was perfect for what I wanted. Small and great, much easier to carry on a day out exploring the streets than lugging around the 6D. I also shot landscapes with the Fuji around the Capilano Suspension Bridge near Vancouver and in the Olympic Peninsula in WA. The experiment with a new system turned out to be really exciting and I was happy with the results. So last year (May 2016), I got the XT1, and up until August or so my 6D stayed in a shelf. I also stopped taking a bag with filters, the tripod... and guess what? Everything felt lighter and so much comfortable. I loved everything about the cameras and when I used them for portraits or as daily carry I literally thought I would sell my Canon gear.
My favorite thing about these cameras has always been their size, the layout of buttons and dials, the EVF and simply how beautiful they are. Also the dynamic range is incredible, and I’m always amazed by how I can get the perfect balance between the highlights and shadows. This is so much better compared to my 6D where I always have to underexpose to get some details in the clouds in post production. With the Fujis though, it only takes one look through the viewfinder to adjust the settings and you’re done. But there was something major that stopped me from selling my Canon and actually keeping both systems, and that was my editing. I couldn’t match the looks between my Canon and Fuji files. For some reason the landscapes were really difficult to edit to my liking. I could have given up and sell all my Fuji gear, but I didn’t. I just loved it so much for all the other situations!
Now that I think about it and after months of working on it, I guess my problem was with colors and the learning curve of working with a different kind of sensor and processor. I know people love the color these cameras produce, but I don’t really enjoy the blue tones SOOC and I totally dislike the greens and the way the camera renders them in landscape photographs. I have also figured out that the photographs I make on cloudy and misty days are much easier to edit to my liking than the ones taken on sunny days, I just can’t handle to edit those blue, cloudless skies (this also happens to me with the 6D, by the way). I love muted tones and for some reason I couldn’t achieve that with my usual editing. Sometimes the vivid colors of these files just don’t speak to me because I find them really different to my editing. So it was a matter of learning what works for me and what doesn’t when post processing the files and that, unfortunately, took me longer than expected.
As I mentioned earlier, if you take a look around my portfolio, you will see that the majority of my work is done on rainy and cloudy days. I believe it’s the atmosphere of those days that really pulls me to get out and photograph nature and landscapes. Light conditions and the time of the day that you shoot at can make a phograph go from stunning to meh. That is a fact. So I started to go out to photograph on days like those described above, and slowly I started developing some presets that worked for these images. Rich colors mixed with dark shadows, that was it! I developed a moody and dark way of editing that really caught my attention and made me really picky when choosing the time and conditions in which I went out to shoot with the Fujifilm cameras. 
Last summer we went on a 13000km roadtrip in our van to Norway. I knew that I would be photographing some of the most spectacular locations for landscape and travel photographers like me, so I wanted to be prepared. Since we were sleeping in our van, I decided to bring the big camera bag along with the 6D +17-40mm, the XT1+ 18-55mm and the X100T. For some strange reason, I always reached for the Fujis, so I only used the 6D for 15 photos in total and the 2000 + others were from the XT1 with the kit lens and the X100T. This made me even more excited than the previous year. I didn’t hesitate to use the Fuji for landscapes and the conditions were just as I wanted them: misty, moody and super cloudy. People may think I’m a weirdo for loving that kind of weather for my summer holidays, but when travel and landscape photography is your job and a trip like this is the perfect occasion to create some portfolio worth images, that’s all you really wish for. As soon as I came back home from Norway, I pulled out the files into Lightroom and applied my own presets. I was relieved, it had worked. I was improving, and on my way to finally love these cameras and the editing process of their files.
So I guess you are wondering how I post process them, so I will give you a few hints. As I have said on a previous blog post, I achieve these colors by moving the sliders of three different panels of Lightroom. My most used presets are based on VSCO’s Portra 160+++ which I’ve tweaked until I’ve found something that I really like and works for my images. The following are some common adjustments that you can find on the majority of my images: In the tone curves panel, I always lift the shadows and decrease the highlights a bit. If it’s cloudy, I will accentuate those clouds, but if there’s a dull sky, I will usually blow out the highlights in the basic panel. In the HSL panel, my green tones are usually yellowish, and the yellows are a bit more orange. The saturation of the greens is really low but the luminance however, pretty high. I believe split toning is really important too. I usually have a bluish tone for the highlights and a warmer one for the shadows. Those are the three panels where the “magic” happens in my editing.
Many people have asked me to put my presets for sale, but I don’t think I am ready for that because I believe each of us has to develop our taste and work on something that works for our images. I really encourage people to just keep working on it and not copying literally other’s editing processes. I could show you screenshots of my editing panels, but I adjust every slider in each image, so I don’t think that is worth it. However, I do have some before and after screenshots where you actually see what I mean (check previous blog posts). But I am willing to give people tips and talk about how to think on your editing while you are making the actual photographs and how to improve their editing once you are in Lightroom. If people are interested, I may even create some videos to show you how I work in Lightroom and I can make some videos also editing some of your RAWs, if that is something you might enjoy. 
So what is my plan from now on… Ever since I started to enjoy my new way of editing with Fujifilm cameras, I’ve been saving up to build a lens collection that I am comfortable with. I am currently looking for the 16mm and the 23mm 1.4 since those are my favorite focal lengths. I’m also keeping my Canon system because I can’t let go of my Sigma 35Art for portraits. I have to say that even though I have 4 digital cameras in my bag, they all have a purpose for the work that I do. Except for the X Pro1 maybe, that I only take out when I feel some nostalgia... and I know for sure that I don’t want to sell it. This summer, we are planning on going on a trip to Japan and Indonesia where I want to bring a Fuji camera with the 16, 23 and the 35 1.4 (that I already own). I want to be able to travel light, with everything that I need in a ONA bag. In some of the tests that I’ve seen, it seems like the new XT2 and X PRO2 show less mushing in landscape photographs, and I would love to hear from those who own any of them if that is true or if it's just my eyes suffering from G.A.S (which I admit, Fujifilm cameras make me have it). Hopefully, I will be able to try that for myself sometime soon and we’ll see where that leads to. 
Probably this post was longer than expected and doesn’t answer all your questions... or maybe it leaves out some important information that you were expecting to hear from me. If that is the case, please don’t hesitate to write down in the comments or dropping me an email with your questions. I will try to do my best to give you a detailed answer. 
I would like to finish this post with the before and afters of my favorite 25 photos I’ve taken with the Fujis so far. I hope you like them!
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