#Florida brush footed butterflies

[whatnext10]

The Red Admiral is a Beautiful Brush Footed Butterfly

Painted with Sunlight Another one of our early spring butterflies that is now on the wing is the red admiral (Vanessa atalanta). These pretty and colorful butterflies are also sometimes known as the red admirable, the northern hemisphere red admiral, or the northern red admiral. Like the common buckeyes, they are members of the brush footed butterfly family. They are common throughout most of…

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Mexican Fritillary - Euptoieta hegesia

I'm absolutely overjoyed to share these beautiful Butterfly pictures! Not only is the insect in question a real stunner, but these images also represent the first close-ups of the ornate and elegant Fritillary Butterflies (Tribe Argynnini) on this blog. In general and from my own experience, Fritillaries are incredibly quick to flee if they sense danger approaching! They only ever seem to land when they investigate flowers, but otherwise keep their distance. In fact, the genus "Euptoieta" name originates from a Greek word meaning 'easily scared'. Prior to this, I've only been able to share one image of my own photography from High Park, and even then it was taken from far away and merely included as a comparison photo to Fritillary pictures shared with me by a dear friend on her yearlong Asia trip (who was available to get much closer than I did). With these pictures from a very dear friend enjoying a Mexico vacation (for which I'm very thankful for), the beauty and detail of these royal and gilded Butterflies can be observed gloriously. The sole exception here being the legs which are concealed by the wings. Just keep in mind that as a Brush-Footed Butterfly (family Nymphalidae)* it only has 4 legs in use for walking and landing.

As this Butterfly's common name suggests, its range includes Mexico where it can be seen year-round due to the favorably warm weather. It can also apparently be found in the states of Texas and Arizona (and occasionally Florida) in the latter half of the year and has made its way to other tropical areas such as Cuba. When you see a Fritillary Butterfly flying around, no matter where you find it you'll recognize every future Fritillary as soon as you see one. These gorgeous Butterflies are easily recognized by their marvelous wings, the tops of which are laced with orange scales and accented with dark striped patterns and spots; the undersides tend to have large white or silvery spots. The Mexican Fritillary is a slight exception to this rule as the underside of its wings (not seen here) have a mostly mottled appearance similar to autumn leaves with a small section of vibrant orange featuring white patches on the forewing. Moreover, this Butterfly has a bare, pure orange area on the distal section of its hindwings (where the wings meet the body). Keep an eye out for this bare section of bright orange scales: it is key for identifying this specie if you spot a Fritillary in the south-US/Mexico area. The similar looking Variegated Fritillary (E. claudia) has a completed marking pattern across its hindwings and tends to be a more golden orange rather than the saturated orange of E. hegesia. The two species are much easier to tell apart in adulthood than when enjoying leaves as Caterpillars!

*Note: In the classification hierarchy of taxonomy, remember that Family is ordered before Tribe (which itself comes before Genus). As such, all Fritillaries are Brush-Footed. Their wings are among the most magnificent of all Brush-Footed Butterflies, wouldn't you say? Although...the Monarch is still the most iconic of all.

Pictures were taken on February 11, 2024 in Mexico with a Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra.

[frogsmulder]

Hey for the tall/short prompts, how about… ““ maybe we should try it. “ “ try what? “ “ me big spoon you little spoon. “ “ terrible idea. you'll be wrapped around me like a koala around a tree. “ “ so? “ “ so, you'll be fine with it at first, until you realize i'm not paying attention to you. “ “ of course you're not paying attention to me, you're sleeping. “ “ imagine not even being able to ask me to switch back. “ 😊

Big Spoons Camping out for Big Foot

set s5 some time after detour; Mulder and Scully cuddle for warmth on their camping trip; 1.1k words; rated t; tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder had invited Scully on a camping trip. Scully had accepted Mulder’s invitation perhaps a little too eagerly, but she was done with cautious waiting. Scully, post cancer, now grasped whatever life threw at her with both grateful hands. What Scully didn’t realise (but probably should have known) was that Mulder’s idea of a camping trip included dressing up in ghillie suits and sasquatch spotting. What life had thrown at Mulder and Scully was torrential rain and freezing temperatures, checked only by the flimsy sheet of polythene separating them from the outside world; also known as a two-man tent.

Now Scully was cold, damp and cuddled up to Mulder for warmth—not that she was entirely displeased with the experience, at least not the last part at any rate. Back pressed against his chest, his arm draped over her protectively, she laid her head down contentedly on the thankfully dry pillow.

Mulder cautiously pressed his nose into her frizzy hair in a tender expression of affection and apology. “I’m sorry, Scully, I didn’t know the weather would turn on us like this. I should have checked the forecast.”

She bit her lip and smiled. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“But I do. I thought I was trying to do something nice… for both of us.” Brushing the hair back from her forehead, he rested his chin on the top of her head, tucking her into him completely.

“Well, I’m fairly happy here… with you.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting her confession settle over them.

Then she started shuffling about, jostling the unzipped sleeping bag that was covering both of them like a duvet. Mulder grabbed onto his side possessively, frowning in confusion until she eventually turned over to face him.

“Hi,” she giggled in the darkness. “I can see you now.”

“Hi,” he laughed in return.

Scully rested her head against his chest, the softness of his old t-shirt brushing against her nose. She tried not to breathe in too obviously, but he smelt good; like the woods and campfire smoke and something just him. How was that after a day of sweating in a ghillie suit he still smelt delicious? She hummed in contentment. “This reminds me of down in Florida… At least one of us isn’t hurt this time.”

“With the Mothmen? But we’re out here looking for Big Foot. I thought you knew your cryptids better than that, Scully,” he chided in jest.

“No, I just mean stuck in the woods, cuddling for warmth.” Shaking her head at the memory, she chuckled. “Except I haven’t got your head in my lap this time.”

Mulder grinned too mischievously for his own good. “That could be arranged.”

She lifted her head to look at him as best as she could in the black of night, which admittedly was not well at all. Although, she could have sworn she felt his gaze linger over her like fire scorching across brush. She licked her parched lips. “Maybe we should try it.”

“T-try what?” he flustered, turning a bright shade of crimson: she could feel the heat from his cheeks a mile away.

“You know,” Scully smirked, poking his shoulder. “Me big spoon, you little spoon.”

She could feel the relief wash over him as he let go of the breath he held, his chest sinking. It sent butterflies to her stomach to think that he could have been thinking of the same forbidden image she had implied.

He shook his head. “Terrible idea. You’ll be wrapped around me like a koala around a tree.”

She let out a little laugh. “So?”

“So,” Mulder murmured his reasoning, drawing circles tentatively on her arm where the worn material of her t-shirt sleeve met her skin. “You’ll be fine with it at first, until you realise I’m not paying attention to you.”

“Of course, you won’t be paying attention to me, you’ll be sleeping.” She laughed him off but even she knew it was a poorly veiled excuse. Yet she continued to think of it: having his warm solid presence pressed to her chest. Somehow, he had become a greater source of comfort in her life than she could ever have thought.

“Imagine not even being able to ask me to switch back,” he teased.

“Imagine being the little spoon, Mulder,” she countered.

His hesitation spoke louder than the silence that engulfed them; she knew she had dealt the winning hand in the split second it took him to respond, their easy verbal duelling always following a familiar pattern.

“I—I—uh…” he stuttered. “It’s inefficient: we’d lose heat.”

“Hmm, I’m quite toasty,” she smiled gleefully, wriggling close to him. “Just imagine: I’d get to protect you and keep you safe all night. I could search your head for injuries too.”

Mulder sighed. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“I thought you liked it when I was stubborn.”

She could feel him pouting in consideration.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Sure, Scully, if you want to be the big spoon go ahead, be my guest.” Yet instead of turning over, Mulder lay flat on his back, his arms open in invitation, chest shaking as he tried to suppress a chuckle. But Scully, undeterred, took up the challenge and crawled over him. Turning back over the way he was facing, he scooted into her and she hugged him closer, her arm over his side.

“Ummm, Scully?”

“Uh huh?”

He chewed the inside of his cheek, mustering the will to ask her. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “Does my head have any injuries?”

“No, Mulder, why would it?”

“But you’d check though, just to make sure? I know how much of a rigorous scientist you are.” He looked over his shoulder the best he could, seeking her reassurance.

Slowly, his meaning clicked into place and she understood what he wanted her to do.

“Okay, but just for science.”

She shifted up their makeshift bed so that her head was above his, the same as when he was the big spoon. Pressing her lips to his crown, she weaved her fingers through his hair.

Mulder’s insomnia faded at the tips of Scully’s fingers as she worked her way over his scalp, running her fingers delicately through his hair. She hummed as she went, letting him know what she thought of every spot she checked: behind his ears, the base of his skull, the crown of his head. He became heavy with sleep, as though he were melting, thick and syrupy through her fingers. It wasn’t long before she caught his soft snores and Scully smiled: so, it wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

Send me a tall/short prompt!

[reignstormz]

✓WORK IT OUT ✓

|IMAGINE; PART ONE|

INTRO; You run into a handsome man at the gym, well, maybe in a different way than you had hoped. You never intended to go any further with him despite how interested you really were, but one touch led to another, and things got really nasty.

WORD COUNT; 5,023? (idk tbh Tumblr is tripping)

WARNINGS; Sexual content ahead, read at your own risk. Also, covid doesn't exist in this imagine. Also, there's a part two to this! Keep your eyes open!

CAST; You (Y/N) / Roman Reigns / Jey Uso /Paul Heyman.

🦋Tampa, Florida 🦋

🦋 February 20th, 2021🦋

You walked into EOS fitness gym, with absolutely no energy or motivation in your body. The emotions you felt all week had tugged you down, including this morning; Tired, gloomy, unhappy, nonetheless, heartbroken. It's been two weeks, or maybe one--you definitely weren't counting, since you had found out on Valentine's Day that your ex had been sleeping around with other women. Two in fact, and caught him right in the act. In you're house, in you're bed, meanwhile, you've given this man everything. A five year relationship, gone down the drain. You started to wonder what you did wrong, or what you could've done better to make him not make the mistakes he made.

Were you not pretty enough? Were you not pleasing him enough? Were you boring? Why did he treat you the way he did? and how could he betray you like that? All of those questions ran through your mind. In all honesty, none of it was your fault. The problem was, from the very beginning, you didn't love yourself. You didn't appreciate your value, and when you don't appreciate your value, you leave a window of opportunity for another person to do the same, and that's exactly what happened. However, you were still lost. You tried to do anything, absolutely anything to get this mess off of your mind. The last resort was the gym, and maybe that was just the thing to help for the time being.

It was about six in the morning, and rarely anyone was there except for about a three or five people. You liked it better that way anyway, working out when the gym was packed irritated you to the fullest. Walking further into the building made goosebumps rise all over your skin due to the air conditioning blasting throughout the gym. You sighed dreadfully, slowly taking off your jacket as you hopped onto the treadmill.

"I knew I should've worn a long-sleeved shirt," You scolded yourself. As you hit the button, putting the speed only on number two, you slid your earbuds into your ear and played the playlist of your liking while you walked. You stared the treadmill's screen ahead of you, until you noticed someone else walk into the gym. It was a man. You looked down briefly before you did a double take, gosh, such a beautiful man. It was like you were hallucinating, even though you weren't.

"Damn.." You muttered under your breath as you stared at the handsome guy. He was tall, muscular, had olive-like toned skin, black long hair that fell to his shoulders, and a beard that covered his angelic face. You're eyes traced his every move as he made his way over to the weights, where all the jacked, crazy fit individuals typically stayed in the gym. Today though, it was just him. He was wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt which caused his muscles to show through, including some black sweatpants.

It was too early in the morning for this, you thought. He dropped his bag next to the bench, and wrapped his hair into a neat bun. You're mouth watered at the sight at him, but you quickly snapped out of it. You needed a distraction, but that was far from what you needed, especially from another dude. Stay focused, you reminded yourself continuously. You decided to put the treadmill on higher speed, figuring that if you were at a running pace, then you would've gotten your attention back. Long story short, your resolution didn't solve.

You're eyes worked against you, slowly looking forward once again to see him. He had a heavy set of weights on his shoulders, while squatting over and over again. Not only did his capability of strength make you drool, something else did as well underneath it. His ass, was unreal. If you could just reach out and touch it, you probably would've. Deep down, you were a little mad at yourself for not toughing it out, but you couldn't help it. He looked so sexy, and you could watch him all day.

Little did you know, the beautiful man before you, was completely aware that he had an audience. Well, you were his audience after all. As he worked out, there was a mirror in front of him and he caught your glance in his reflection. Even though you were a little too far away to notice him looking, the mirror gave him a better view to look at everything that surrounded him. He smirked to himself, admiring the woman behind him. The fact that you most likely had no idea that you had his attention, made him chuckle a bit as his legs began to burn from the squats, but he decided to keep going, hoping that your attention would stay fixated on him.

Roman was also a single man, a mafia boss to say the least. He kept his identity more on the low, and rarely let anyone in his circle. His trust issues were thin, but he had a big heart that he deeply wanted to share with someone else. The Samoan had been with other women in the past, but never found someone that completed him fully; The money, relevancy, extravagant lifestyle, and everything in between he had, often found himself in situations where he was used, they were never with him because they truly loved him. Now, he's focused on himself for awhile and his empire he's been working on for years, however, if the right woman were to walk into his life, he wouldn't hesitate to give it a chance.

Before you knew it, something awful happened. You were so lost into the mysterious man, that you had accidentally stepped in front of your left foot, tripping yourself and you lost all of your balance. A huge thud echoed across the gym, and you held your head in pain after you slid off of the treadmill. The few people that were in the gym slightly gasped, and after a few seconds, awkwardly went back to what they were doing. Assholes, but you were too out of it in order to notice. You bit your lip, trying your best to hold back tears at how bad the fall was to your head. You're eyes were closed shut, and you were about to attempt to get back up until a large hand rested on the small of your back, stopping you.

"Are you okay, Mama?" The deep, montone voice asked gently. It was smooth like butter, yet chilling. You had no idea who it was still due to how unconscious you were.

You slightly turned around on your back, and your arm naturally rested around the person's neck as he lifted your body up with his arm. You're eyelids slowly lifted back open, but your vision wasn't all the way there yet. Who was talking to you? You turned your head to the left, seeing who had come to help you. Since you were still a little dizzy, you were seeing double vision of the person in front of you. Once your head finally stopped spinning for a second, you were finally able to determine who was it front of you, and it was him. His pretty brown eyes, stared into yours with concern as you stared back into his, nervous out of your mind. It couldn't get anymore embarrassing than this.

You gulped, avoiding his gaze. A lie was told by the nod of your head, despite being hurt, "Yeah, I'm fine-"

"No, stay." He warned politely as you tried to stand up fully. His arm was secure around your waist, and then his eyes trailed up to your head. The look in his eye softened even more, "You're bleeding."

You furrow you're eyebrows, going to touch your head. You sigh, looking at the marks of blood on your fingers, "Shit..I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The man chucked, and rubbed a small circle on your back before getting up to get a paper towel from the nearby wall. He squatted back down to your level and gently put it against your wound. You winced a little at the pain, but took deep breaths in between. As he continued to wipe some of the blood off your head, you on the other hand stared at him the entire time. From far away, he was out of this world fine, but up close was even better. Looking at him was like being hypnotized.

"What's your name?" You asked bluntly.

He alternated looks between your eyes and your head, and smiled small, "Roman, and yours?"

Damn, and you thought he couldn't look anymore good. His smile was..

"So sexy.." You blurted out, thinking at first that you said it in your head, but you didn't. Shit, you thought. You lowered your head, closing your eyes from embarrassment. Roman paused from wiping your head, and stared at you a little bit from what you said. His lips turned into a smirk, with his tongue lightly brushing over them.

"So are you," He shoots back. What did he just say? Your eyes widened a tiny bit and you lifted your head up to meet his glance. Roman gave you a subtle wink before getting up, and throwing the paper towel in the trash can. He walked back to you, giving out his hand for you to take.

"Come on," Roman nodded his head towards the gym with a comforting smile. "Let's get out of here."

Depending on how hard you hit your head, you were still a little out of it and wasn't sure what to make out of this situation. Were you really about to leave with a guy you barely even knew? Despite how fine he was, a part of you thought this was a terrible idea, and made zero sense if you went through with it. However, you didn't care. The stars that you were seeing currently, especially when you looked at him gave you butterflies in your stomach that were unexplainable, and you just couldn't say no. Who was he? You needed to know.

A slow, small grin appeared on your face as you hesitantly took his hand, letting him take you wherever he wanted to go.

⏩

After about an hour or two of slumber, your eyes flew open, slightly closing due to the lights piercing through the ceiling. You blinked a couple of times, and realized there was something cold on the top of your head. You furrowed your eyebrows, bringing your hand up and gently touching the ice pack that was laid there. Then, you slowly sat up, setting the ice pack next to you as you looked around at your surroundings. You had a brown, fuzzy blanket wrapped around your body and you were laid against a long, white couch.

Not to mention, the living room that you were in was extremely huge. You had a hard time remembering exactly how you got here. All you remembered was that you were at the gym, you saw a handsome man; What was his name, Roman? You thought. After that you face planted on the treadmill, and he went to help you, anything after that was a complete blur. Where were you right now?

You turned your head to the left, and saw the night life outside of the window. Thousands of lights, and the settle stars of the night sky had you in awe. As you continued to stare at the view, a voice interuppted, "You alright, Uce?"

You jumped back a little, putting a hand on your chest from feeling startled. You looked ahead to see a brown-skinned, attractive man with unqiue tattoos on both of his arms and a gold chain around his neck. He was very swagged out, from head to toe. You looked him up and down, and slightly tilted your head, "Excuse me?"

"How are you feeling?" He repeated, looking at you weirdly. Did she not understand the slang? But the again, it was Samoan slang, not everyone understood it off the bat, He thought. You sighed, slightly face-plamimg your forehead gently before apologizing once again, "I'm sorry, Who are you? and how did I get here?"

"Jey Uso," He introduced shortly. I stared at him blankly, still having no clue who he was. He sighed, pointing at a picture of three children on the wall, "Roman's cousin?"

You looked at the picture, seeing Jey, another kid who looked exactly like him and Roman who I believed was in the middle. You wanted to coo at how adorable the picture was, but you were still confused. Damn, they're cousins? So is everyone attractive in his family or is it just them? Besides, why is he here anyway, standing there like some guard? Was he watching you this entire time?

"You guys are cousins?" I ask in disbelief. He nodded quietly, looking a little confused as to why I was surprised, "What, he didn't tell you?"

"No, because I just met the guy?" I say dumbfoundedly, "And I have no idea how I even got here in the first place. I need to go back home." You plead, starting to get a little nervous.

"Relax, this is Roman's place. He only brought you here because you got hurt at the gym and he didn't think it was safe enough for you to be driving back home." He informs, "I'll actually go get him, now that you're awake."

Before you could open your mouth to speak, he left the room. You sighed, and then thought a little about what he said afterwards. You knew that this was nice of him to do, and it did mean a lot that he cared, but you were still on the fence about being at a random guy's house you didn't know too well. Roman's intentions were in the right place, but this was the last thing you needed to be involved in right now. You were focusing on yourself, and yourself only, and it just hurt too much to have someone else in the picture at the moment. It wasn't the time to catch feelings or be interested in someone new, especially him, he was too fine and you knew it would be too easy to give in.

As you played with your fingers, the two gentleman stepped into the room, making you look up. Roman looked back at you with a soft, yet relieved expression as Jey stood behind him. He was wearing a dark blue muscle shirt, that showed a long, tribal patterned tattoo that covered his entire right arm, along with Jordans on his feet to match with his shirt. It's like this man had so many secrets about him that you had no idea about, the tattoo was like the perfect touch and made him look even more sexy than he already was, it also was identical to his cousin's. He turned his head, whispered something to Jey. He nodded his head and walked away, leaving you and Roman alone.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." Roman called you, which made you chuckle a bit, making you a less nervous. You watched him make his way over to you, and he sat down, putting the pack of ice on the coffee table in front of you.

"How's your head?" He asked, gently putting his fingertips under your chin, trying to get a good look at it which sent shivers down your spine. You licked your lips subtly, watching him but you sighed, closing your eyes. Get over yourself, Y/N.

"It's fine, um.." You trailed off, grabbing his soft, large hand and took it off of your chin. You really didn't want to let his hand go either, but you had to listen to your pride.

"Listen, I think I should go." You suggest, standing up from the couch and he looked up at you, clearly not wanting you to leave.

Shit, was I coming on too strong? Roman thought. This might've been an unusual way to approach a woman, but the moment he met you at the gym, he just knew he had to get to know you more. There was something about you, that pulled him in and had his full interest. You were beautiful, out of this world gorgeous, your body and the way the heavens shaped you drove him crazy, and the way you looked at him made Roman feel something that he doesn't feel everyday. Usually he was a bit more straight forward on what he wanted, and he wouldn't have to tell anyone twice for him to have it. He had a whole different side to him, that you had no clue about, but that's because you were different to him. He wanted to be careful with you.

Before Roman could respond, You felt around your neck and realized that it was completely bare. You froze and your blood ran completely cold. You remember going to the gym wearing a gold necklace that had your name written in cursive, which was a valuable gift of yours that you received on your birthday years ago. You never took it off, and you thought you might've lost it when you got hurt. Fuck, you thought, starting to feel upset all over again.

Roman realized a change in your mood, and he raised his eyebrow shortly, "What's wrong?"

You shook your head, not wanting to stress about it, even though deep down you were, "Nothing."

Roman looked at where your hand was, which was motioning at your neck. He then remembered the gold necklace that you dropped when you both walked out of the gym. He made sure to get it for you before you guys left.

"Are you missing something, gold maybe?" He teased playfully, knowing that you didn't want to worry him. Your eyes widened and you snapped his head at him, how did he even know that?

"You have it?" You say in a hopeful tone, with a brief smile on your face. He smiled back, with a light-hearted chuckle which made your heart melt, "Yeah, I got it. I'll go get it."

Roman stood up, and then looked back at you, "Just promise me you won't leave once I give it to you." You sighed in relief, and nodded agreeing. He left the room, leaving the room to get your necklace. You admired how kind he was, especially how much of a gentleman he was. He didn't have to help you at all or care about your well being, but he did. Give it a chance, go for it, you tried convincing yourself. It seemed like he also was interested, but then your insecurities kicked in, there was no way a guy like him would be interested in someone like you. There were you again, second guessing yourself. You just wished you didn't get yourself involved in this situation to begin with.

Roman went to his office, and picked up your necklace from his desk. He read your name quietly to himself, "Y/N..."

Such a gorgeous name, he thought. As if she couldn't seem any more perfect that she was. He smirked to himself, staring at your necklace for a couple of seconds before returning to the living room. Roman motioned you to turn around, and you followed, letting him put the necklace around your neck. Once it was, you touched it, thanking God in your head that you didn't lose it. You then turned around, facing him. You were more closer to him than you thought you would be. Roman stared down at you, looking into your eyes as you stared into his brown ones. The things you would do to him, you bit your lip and was able to pry away from his stare, backing up a away from him a bit.

Damn it, Roman cursed to himself. He cleared his throat, backing away from you, hoping he wasn't making you feel uncomfortable, even though you weren't. On the other hand, you were just hoping you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself again.

"I was just kidding about what I said earlier," He said. You looked back up at him, wondering what he was talking about. He smiled small, "If you still want to leave, I'd be happy to take you home."

You couldn't help but hold back a smile, finding his gestures heart warming. I guess showing your appreciation wouldn't hurt, in your way. You raised your hand to his cheek, holding it gently and tilted your head, kissing his other cheek sweetly.

"Thank you, Roman." You said appreciatively. His eyes were glued onto you, not being able to tear them off of you. Roman's blood turned warm, and his heart that was already racing began to go even faster. It's like there was a glow around you, that nobody else could see except for him. You were a diamond in the rough, angel in disguise, a woman that should be treated like a queen. He didn't know if you were seeing anyone else, but quite frankly he didn't care. You were going to belong to him soon.

"Are you good?" You asked, trying to get his attention. Roman nodded, trying to disregard his thoughts before he said them out loud, which he did most of the time.

"Yeah," He says. Roman picked up his keys off of the coffee table, and looked down back at you, not being able to look away from your beauty, "After you." He insisted, wanting you to go first. You nervously smiled, thanking him again silently before you walked in front of him. He took the opportunity take a look at your rear end, he bit his lip and sighed. All that, will be mine he said to himself in his head before he went and followed you.

➰

Tags; @gold--gucciempress @wwzentertainment @serenityfiretrash @flawlessglamazon @nicolewoo @romanreignshairdresser @sassymox @pennysky @msnikkimoneypenny @jazzy-tzw @lemonjvicey @thandiwethagirl @haharollins @reignsprint @rollinshield3 @sheerbeautyreigns @zaddyreigns @brookethegamer @glowinnbabyy

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Julia (Dryas iulia) by Jose Matutina Via Flickr: Dryas iulia (often incorrectly spelled julia), commonly called the Julia Butterfly, Julia Heliconian, The Flame, or Flambeau, is a species of brush-footed butterfly. The sole representative of its genus Dryas, it is native from Brazil to southern Texas and Florida, and in summer can sometimes be found as far north as eastern Nebraska. Over 15 subspecies have been described. Two Julia Butterflies drinking tears from turtles in Ecuador Its wingspan ranges from 82 to 92 mm, and it is colored orange (brighter in male specimens) with black markings; this species is somewhat unpalatable to birds and belongs to the "orange" Batesian Mimicry mimic complex.[2] This butterfly is a fast flier and frequents clearings, paths, and margins of forests and woodlands. It feeds on the nectar of flowers, such as lantanas (Lantana) and Shepherd's-needle (Scandix pecten-veneris), and the tears of caiman, the eye of which the butterfly irritates to produce tears.[3] Its caterpillar feeds on leaves of passion vines including Passiflora affinis and Yellow Passionflower (P. lutea) in Texas. The species is popular in butterfly houses because it is long-lived and active throughout the day.

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

Ahh I luffles this part :)

19

“Even the most ordinary things can be made extraordinary simply by doing it with the right people”

“If you mention those hot pants once more Maggie, I am ending this phone call.”

Robyn looked to Taron who was further down the aisle looking at the baking items on the shelf, holding onto the trolley he had insisted they got. Robyn normally used a basket or a re-useable shopping bag, rather than a trolley but Taron quickly routed through his pockets for some change so he could pop a euro into the slot to free a trolley.

“Robyn, he has been at your house now for a week, surely you have seen some sort of hot pants style outer garments.”

Robyn ended the call with her friend and walked over to Taron. “You don’t need to put the icing in Taron. We will make our own.”

“Let’s keep it.” He said taking it from Robyn’s hands as she went to put it back on the shelf.

“Taron, we don’t need chocolate icing. We are going to make some vanilla icing.”

He threw the pot of chocolate buttercream back into the trolley. “So, then we do need it.”

Robyn looked to the phone that was ringing in her hands again. As they walked around the shop, Robyn’s phone had rung, her friend from Florida a little worried that she hadn’t heard from her in over a week. She filled the American in quickly and when Maggie had heard that Taron had arrived at Robyn’s house, she couldn’t help but utter the words hots pants.

“I am sorry. Don’t hang up on me again.”

Robyn followed Taron as he wheeled the trolley, rolling her eyes as he took random items from the shelf and put them in the trolley.

“Then let’s have a nice low-key conversation Maggie and a quick one. I need to stop Taron from buying the whole coffee section. Taron, we don’t need coffee beans.” She said as she put them back on the shelf, after he had put them in the trolley.

“Robyn?”

“Sorry Maggie, Taron is… Taron!” Robyn walked into him as he stopped. “We don’t need those coffee beans either! Sorry Maggie.”

As the bruising on his face had finally started to fade a little, when Taron grinned widely, it just made him look like a cheeky little boy up to no good.

“But coffee?” He said innocently.

Robyn grabbed his right hand. “Maggie I am going to have to call you back.” She ended the call and pushed the phone into her jeans pocket.

“Coffee?” Asked Taron again, laughing as Robyn sighed. “Ok ok! I am sorry!” He swung his arm around Robyn’s waist. “I will be good I promise. I promise.” He kissed her hair. “I will push the trolley and you can put the shopping in.”

Robyn looked in the trolley. “You do realise I live alone right? I don’t need most of this stuff and we only came in for the surprises for the cake.”

“So, we can’t put jam inside the cake?” Asked Taron.

“We can put the jam on some toast but not on the cake.” She walked back to the baking shelf. “We can put these icing shapes inside and sugar strands and this unicorn confetti.” She handed the items to Taron and he put them in the trolley. “Now follow me.” She walked him around to the sweet aisle. “Jellies can go inside as well as chocolate buttons, white and milk and popping candy.”

Taron took everything from Robyn as she handed them to her. “These will stick to jam.”

“Hence why we don’t put jam inside the cake Taron. When you cut the cake, all the stuff inside will tumble out and that’s the surprise.”

“I knew that.” He said as he pulled a packet of Jelly Babies from the shelf. “I just like jam on stuff.” Taron turned to look at Robyn. “You are going to put me in time out, aren’t you?” He said, her face not giving away anything except maybe a slight annoyance, but as she stood with her hands on her hips, his stomach flipped with those butterflies he had been experiencing all week.

“I don’t put kids in time out but there are consequences for unwanted behaviour.”

“Consequences?” He asked, stepping closer to her. “Such as?”

“No baking, head massage or cookies.” Robyn folded her arms over her chest. “Taron! Quit it!” He had reached around her and pulled three bars of chocolate off the shelf and they fell straight into the trolley behind her. “Jesus I should have had another coffee.” Robyn ran her hands through her hair and looked at him. “Do you want to sleep outside tonight?”

Taron chuckled. “You would never.”

“You think you know me Taron but really, do you? Do you?”

Another wonderful laugh filled his body. “I can go to your parents’ house.”

It was too hard to stay even slightly frustrated with him, especially when his eyes creased at the side and his beautiful dimples appeared when his smile filled his whole face or even more so when he initiated a hug so warm and tight, it made her smile wide.

“Can we keep the chocolate please? I absolutely promise I will be good and listen. I am sorry. You know I love you.” Taron stopped for a second when he realised what he said but quickly continued. “Today, so far, has been perfect and sometimes I just get giddy, maybe a little too giddy.”

“I like you giddy.” She admitted. “I like it because I have seen it when you are not giddy and I don’t like that so stay giddy Taron.” She moved away a little from him but her arms were still around his waist. “Always stay giddy.” Taron winked at her. “You’re such a fucking messer.” She added when his smile turned to a smirk, her own face giving into a smile as his eyes sparkled in the lights of the store.

Taron gave her another squeeze and a soft kiss again on her head. “So, what else does this cake need?”

They made it back to Robyn’s house in one piece, Taron being very well behaved and once again insisting he paid for the groceries. “To be fair, you only wanted about five things in here so let me pay.” He helped her to pack away everything too, both leaving out the ingredients to bake the cake with.

“Do you need the recipe book?” Asked Taron as he pulled his hoodie off with a little struggle as the stretch hurt a bit. He threw it on the couch and walked to the island where Robyn had moved her kitchen aid too so they would have more space.

“Nope. I know this recipe off.” She quickly tied her hair up in a loose high pony tail. “Ok so first things first, let’s line the baking tins.”

“First things first, music.” Corrected Taron. “Hey Alexa play The Script.”

“Ohh good choice.”

“I saw they were on your spotify library.”

“Good Irish band.”

“Right so baking tins.”

Robyn showed Taron how to line the first of the seven baking tins and he easily helped to line the remaining six with her.

“Pre-heat oven to one eighty.” She instructed. “And now we weigh all the ingredients.”

It was a baking partnership that worked very well, just as everything else they did together and quickly they had the all the cake batter mixing.

“That is a lot of cake.”

“We have a lot of cakes to make, which by way, what on earth are me and you going to do with a seven-layer rainbow cake?”

“Eat it?” Answered Taron slowly.

“A seven-layer cake?”

“Ok eat some of it.”

Robyn flicked some flour Taron’s way as she shook her head, only to feel something hit her arm. She looked at him but he had found something to stare at on the ceiling so she flung some more flour at him, the white powder leaving obvious traces on his black t-shirt.

“Are you really going to start this?” He asked, finally looking to her.

“Yes I am.” She replied throwing a handful of flour his way, Taron looking down as it hit his chest.

“You are really going to start this.” He asked again stepping closer to her, his own hand creeping into the bag of sugar beside him. “This terrible cliched scene of throwing flour at each other.”

“Why not.” She said cupping some more flour and chucking it at him, his right arm now white and dusty.

“Robyn…” He started but stopped when more flour hit the crotch of his jeans. “That was a low blow.” He smiled.

“No, this is a low blow.” She said taking three quick steps closer to him and landing a pile of flour on his head, fluffing his hair. “Feel like a head massage?” She asked.

“Do you?” He asked as he held onto her left arm and sprinkle the sugar in his hand onto her head.

Laughter, shouts and squeals filled the air as a full on flour and sugar war ensued, neither holding back, Taron taking advantage of his strength at one point holding Robyn firm around her waist as he buried his hand into the bag of flour and dipped his hand behind the neck of t-shirt, dropping the flour down her back. She managed to squirm her way out as and retaliated by dumping the whole bag of sugar over his head. Luckily Robyn knew where she kept the spare bags of flour and while Taron brushed sugar from his face, she pulled a second bag from the press and opened it quickly, getting two hands inside, flinging it towards Taron again.

“Shit where did you get that!”

“I shall never tell my secrets!” Laughed Robyn as she pulled two more handfuls from the bag but once again Taron grabbed her tightly and even as she tried to throw the flour at him over her shoulder, it mostly went on her, both in stitches as white dust filled Robyn’s kitchen, the kitchen aid and music still going in the background.

Lifting Robyn a little so he could walk, Taron managed to get to the bag of flour she had found and got his left hand into it. Robyn grabbed his hand, doing her best to keep it at arm’s length and while shaking his hand, Taron’s aim missed as went to throw it at her.

“Another bites the dust!” She sang as Taron let her go. She moved quickly to pick up the bag of flour, holding it in her hands.

He took two strides towards her and pulled on the paper packaging at the same time as Robyn threw the bag at him but with both of their hands on the bag, it went up rather towards Taron, flour spilling over the two of them like a shower of water. Robyn still had some of the ripped paper in her hands and took a step to throw it at Taron, but lost her footing and slipped on the flour on the tiled floor and fell hard onto the ground her left shoulder hitting the floor first before she lay flat in the white mess on the floor.

“Shit Robyn!” Taron got to his knees and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you ok?”

It wasn’t the answer he was expecting but Robyn started to laugh and laugh hard, her whole body shaking as she giggled. When she opened her eyes and looked at Taron, she laughed even harder, Taron quickly joining her as he sat back on his heels.

“Seriously though, are you ok?” He asked.

“Yeah I am good.” Robyn moved to sit up, rolling her left shoulder a little. “Ow.” She said quietly giggling a little. “That was karma coming to bite me for starting this.”

“This?” Taron looked around the kitchen. “This was fun. I enjoyed this.” He blew on his nose as Robyn picked up a pinch of flour from the floor and tossed it at him.

“Oh no your head.” Robyn gently brushed some flour from Taron’s forehead, his face wincing a little. “Probably not the best to have flour in there.” She said as, as she move his hair away, Taron closing his eyes as some loose flour fell down onto his face. “Are you ok? Lots of quick movements there. Your ribs ok?”

He opened his eyes and smiled. “I am good. Just a twinge.” He gentled rubbed his side and looked at the mess around them “This was my consequence for my behaviour in the shop, wasn’t it?”

Robyn chuckled. “No. This was just me deciding to be giddy. I saw the flour and just went for it. Knew you would play along and you played along beautifully. You are destroyed in flour and sugar.” She giggled again as she pulled his t-shirt away from his chest and let it bounce back, powder residue floating in the air.

“You are too.” Taron pulled his phone from his pocket. “This needs to go on the wall.” He moved so he was sitting beside her and with a bit of trouble as his hands were covered in flour, finally got his phone unlocked and opening the camera, switched it to selfie mode and took a number of pictures of the two. “We will print them later.” Taron pushed his phone back into his jeans. “You sure you are ok? You hit the ground pretty hard and that’s your sore shoulder.”

“Yeah I am good.” She rolled her shoulder again. “Ugh ow.”

Taron shuffled over to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. He grabbed a pack of frozen fruit from one of the drawers before he closed the door again. He moved back to Robyn and knelt beside her. “Here.” He placed the cold plastic on her left shoulder. “Ice helps right?”

“Yeah ice helps. Thanks Taron.”

“So you really followed through the cheesy movie moment huh?” He asked holding the frozen fruit.

“I saw an opportunity and I ran with it.” She answered enjoying how the cold from the plastic bag on her shoulder eased the slight heat of pain she felt.

“Ran wild with it Robyn.”

“Too be fair I did say we would start this when it wouldn’t hurt you too much the day we made the apple crumble when you started this whole thing.”

Taron grinned. “Yes that is true, I suppose in a round about way.”

“So it really is your fault that this whole thing happened.”

“You are going to try and twist it that way?”

“I am.” She enjoyed how he laughed, laughing herself as more flour floated from him as his body moved. “Are you sure you’re ok?” She asked again. “This hasn’t hurt you has it?”

“No I am good. No more than usual.”

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Taron and Robyn looked and saw someone standing behind the breakfast bar. “Robyn Quinn, what on earth have you and this beautiful man in your kitchen been up too?”

Robyn turned to look at Taron but he spoke before she did. “Claire?”

“Claire.” She confirmed.

Robyn had spoken about her best friend to Taron a lot as they got to know each other, so Taron didn’t need an introduction.

“I can go. You two look like you are in the middle of something.”

“Taron spilt some flour.” Said Robyn. “He’s quite messy!”

Taron chuckled with her and slowly got to his feet, holding out his left hand to help Robyn to her up, putting the frozen fruit on the island.

“Some flour?” Asked Claire as she walked to the edge of the island watching as Taron pulled her friend up. “Some flour? Robyn your kitchen is a state!”

“Meh.”

“Meh? What have you done with my friend?” Asked Claire as she watched the two try to brush themselves down. She had knocked on the door but as usual Robyn hadn’t heard, so she opened the door, letting herself in to see her best friend and the man she had teased her about over a week ago, throwing flour at each other laughing hysterically.

“Believe it or not...” Said Taron as he bent his head over and ruffled his hair, lots of flour and sugar falling to the ground. “Robyn started it.”

“My bad.” Robyn turned the kitchen aid off. “Our cakes might be over mixed now. Woops.”

Taron stood beside her and dipped his finger in the cake batter and tasted it. “Nope. All good.”

“So, you two have been up to all sorts then?” Asked Claire as she pulled a stool over to the side of the island that wasn’t covered in flour.

“This and that.” Replied Robyn, looking at her friend. “Claire this is Taron, Taron, Claire.”

Taron moved around to hold his hand out to shake her hand. “Eh no thank you. I shall wait until you are not covered in flour.”

Taron looked to his arms. “Yeah I might go and wash this off.”

“Oh no you don’t. We need to make this cake before this batter deflates.”

“Seriously?” Asked Taron as Robyn started to pull some large bowls from the bottom press and hand them to him.

“Yes, seriously Taron. It will take us five minutes to finish. You wanted to make the rainbow surprise cake. Claire you mind?”

“Not at all. You continue on. I am going to watch with great amusement.”

Robyn gave Taron another two bowls and he set them on the counter. She joined him with a weighing scales and turned to ask him to get her a spoon when she stopped. “I might just clean your head first Taron. Really didn’t think about that wound when I threw the flour.” Robyn took a clean tea-towel from the drawer and fully drenched it with warm water at the sink before squeezing the water out. She motioned Taron over to her and he did as she asked, allowing Robyn to gently wash the flour from his head, closing his eyes as it stung a little. “Ok that’s better. Just to be sure. Now cake.”

Claire watched on with grin as her friend gently cleaned Taron’s forehead, keeping her right hand on his left jaw and didn’t miss how she rubbed his left cheek with her thumb as she did so, Taron’s eyes on her the whole time unless Robyn hit a sensitive part of his forehead. Claire couldn’t wait to get Robyn alone so she could talk to her.

Quickly, Robyn weighed out the batter and divided it into the seven waiting bowls. She gave Taron the red, orange and yellow food colouring to mix into the batter while she mixed the other colours. They poured the batter into the prepared tins and popped them all into Robyn’s oven.

“Done.” Smiled Taron holding his hands up for a double high five from Robyn, which she gave him laughing. “Now can I go and shower? I am all itchy from the flour.”

“You’re itchy? You threw a handful down my back!”

Taron grinned. “Yes, I did.”

“Go. Go and shower. I will clean up here.”

“Oh no, I will help you clean up first.”

“Taron it’s ok. I can…”

“…. We made the mess together. I will help you.”

“Jesus you two are like an old married couple.” Claire said. “I am going to go and sit on that couch until this place is clean. You continue to argue over it.”

“Two of us together.”

It took Robyn and Taron fifteen minutes to clean up the kitchen, and when they were finished the cakes were ready to come out of the oven too.

“Look at the colours of those!” Smiled Taron. “Proper rainbow.” He helped Robyn to carefully take the cakes out of the tins and lay them on cooling racks. “Now I am going to shower, unless you want to go first.”

“No, you go ahead. I think Claire wants to have a chat.”

“Might take a few extra minutes then.” He said. He had a feeling he was going to be the main topic of conversation between the two friends.

“If you go through the laundry room, you can grab clean towels on the way to the bathroom. Just throw your clothes into the laundry basket in the bathroom. I will wash them with mine later on.”

Taron nodded and followed her advice, closing the bathroom door behind him.

“Is this his?” Asked Claire as she walked back into the kitchen holding Taron’s grey hoodie.

“Yep.”

“Have you smelt this? It smells divine. Although, you do have the real thing. You can always smell him.”

“Claire! At least wait until you hear the shower running before you start talking about him and no, I don’t tend to go around smelling my guests or their clothes.”

“Maybe not but you make flirty goggley eyes at him though. I saw the way you two looked at each other when you were cleaning his head.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Repeated Claire. “So…”

“And here you go with this whole ‘so’ thing. My mother did the same thing when we went to dinner.”

“You brought Taron to dinner at your parents?”

“My mam happened to walk in on us having breakfast last weekend and invited us.”

“And…”

“Ugh here we go again. And what?” Claire wiggled her eyebrows, while Robyn rolled her eyes. “So, men and woman can’t be friends now, no?”

“Friends? Friends who have a flour fight while laughing and giggling and just move so close around each other. Seriously, you two are nearly glued at the hip.”

“Whatever Claire.”

“Don’t whatever me Robyn. I see a spark.”

“No what you see are two people who finally feel free from their horrific experience and are enjoying their time together. It’s the first day I have heard him laugh like that. I mean I have heard him laugh but not like that, like for the first time, he doesn’t have the weight of who he is on his shoulders. He hasn’t stopped smiling all day. It was a very different story four days ago and it wasn’t like this last week when he arrived. It might look like all fun and sunshine and yeah most of the time now it is but it hasn’t been. It’s been fucking hard Claire and what you see might be a connection but it’s a connection that sprung from a shocking incident, one that still haunts us both, even though we talk about it every day.”

“You really saved his life.” Robyn nodded. “Seriously, though smell this hoodie. It’s gorgeous. Ok, ok! Sorry, sorry.” Claire walked around the island when she saw her friend’s eyebrows furrow deeply. “When you are not covered in flour, I will hug you. I can’t say I understand what you have been through because I know I won’t be able to but I can try to understand why you both have that connection. You’re friends for life Robyn, a life that he has because of you but I still believe there is a spark. Don’t roll your eyes at me. It’s there.”

“You know what I am going to say.”

“Yeah I do, so don’t. I am glad he came to see you Robyn.”

“Me too.”

“Seriously who are you and what have you done with my stubborn and pig-headed Robyn?”

“She is still here but has learnt it is good to let others in and share your problems.”

“I like him.”

“As does everyone else who has met him. Just my parents and Emma.” Replied Robyn.

“And me.” When her friend smiled sadly, Claire picking up on the change in mood. “Oh dear, what’s that smile for.”

“Just thinking about how quiet this place will be when he goes home.” Robyn stalled for a second when Claire pulled her in for a hug. “What about the flour?”

“I don’t care. You need a hug. Have you talked to him about it yet?”

“Nope.”

“Robyn has he even been home to his home and family?”

“Nope. He came straight to me from Florida.”

“I definitely like him.” Claire hugged her friend tight. “It’s not going to be an easy good bye is it?”

“Nope. I know it has to be done but we have this little bubble around us. Just us.”

“Want me to tell you what I have read on social media?” Asked Claire as she ended the hug.

“Nope.”

“No? It might be as bad as you think it is.”

“No. I don’t want to know. Taron’s publicist Lyndsey has told us not to look and I haven’t. When Taron goes home to Wales, he is going to make a press statement about what happened and ask for our privacy to be respected.”

“You’re going to be famous.”

“I am going to be slaughtered by his fans.”

“Or praised for saving his life. Taron is used to this stuff Robyn. You trust him?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then trust he knows what he is doing when he goes home.”

“I do.”

“Think you will get to go to a movie premier with him?”

Robyn laughed. “Not that I would ever want to but he has already offered.”

“What?”

“We made a deal in the 7/11 that we would have sing off but he is trying to back out. Saw the DVD’s of the musical society.”

“Scaramouche?”

“Yep.”

“Good he needs to be scared. I know he can sing, but you can sing Freddie.”

The girls laughed with each other.

“Robyn talk to him. If you are feeling worried about saying goodbye then you know he has to be too. Imagine how he feels having to leave this protective little home you’ve made for him. It’s Taron who has to go back into the press and media. I’d imagine it’s going to be a lot harder for him.”

Robyn nodded. Taron had already briefly approached the subject of staying with her forever and while she could somewhat hide in her home, Taron had to go back to work eventually and complete many promotional tours, more than likely being asked the same questions over and over.

“Shower is all yours.”

Both girls looked Taron’s way as he walked back into the kitchen, dressed in a black pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.

“Great. You be nice to him.” Robyn pointed her finger at Claire. “I am serious Claire. I will tell him what you have just been doing.”

Taron looked from Robyn to Claire. “What did I miss?”

“Taron, tea? Coffee?” Asked Claire as she pushed his hoodie discreetly across the island.

“Good girl. Just yell if you need saving.”

“And you’ll come running in your nudey nudes?” Laughed Taron.

“To save you from an interrogation, yes I would. Be nice and don’t touch the cakes yet Taron. We still have to make the icing.”

Robyn walked to the bathroom in through the laundry room grabbing two clean towels along the way, closing both doors behind her. Taron had thrown his clothes in the hamper like she had asked him too, along with the towels he had used and when she stepped under the water, she saw that he had fixed her toiletries so her shampoo was once again to her left. Without hesitation she switched them back. She could easily get used to it the way Taron had put it. Letting the water run over her face, Robyn sighed. Their day had been perfect and once Claire left; Robyn knew she was going to ruin it by bringing up the conversation of Taron going home.

[sabraeal]

The Butterfly Effect, Chapter 2

Chapter 1

A continuation of the AU of Wide Florida Bay, starting after Ain’t Saying She’s a Gold Digger, for @infinitelystrangemachinex‘s birthday! I had hoped to get farther than this, but thing ended up getting....very long. SO I SUPPOSE YOU ALL CAN LOOK FORWARD TO MORE, ONE DAY.

The floor is packed; bodies pressed back-to-back and back-to-front -- and, in some memorable instances, front-to-front. There’s barely room for the Holy Spirit in here, let alone Obi’s set of shoulders, but he bumps his way through anyway. He may not be at his fighting weight anymore, but his gains send enough bros stumbling to reassure him that he hasn’t lost his edge.

Not that he cares much about that right now. He’s got a mission here: the exit and its tacky-ass bead curtain. Because once he gets there --

“Oh!”

He stares down to see red spilling down his back, to see a round pair of green eyes peek up from his shoulder.

“You all right?” he rumbles, hating the way there’s not enough air in his chest, how he doesn’t have enough blood circulating through his brain to come up with something more clever than that.

“What?” Her brow furrows, too cute, and he’s so tempted to just lean it, to just kiss where it wrinkles --

“I said,” he murmurs, pressing his lips right up to her ear. Her hand clutches his sleeve, nails digging in like kitten claws. “Are you all right?”

“Oh,” she breathes, sending sparks skittering down his skin. God, he is in trouble. “Yes. Yeah. I’m -- I’m just fine.”

He nods, turning back, trying not to notice how soft and small her hand is in his, how lightly she’s touching him, like she’s afraid if she grabs much harder he’ll turn to smoke.

Fuck, he doesn’t -- he doesn’t do this. Nanaki didn’t hold hands; if he wanted to fuck someone he’d just do it at the club or go back to the girl’s place, not -- not this. Not bringing her home, letting her into his space, letting her know where he lived. That was just begging to get his car keyed.

He was also someone who didn’t actually exist, except for on some registration forms somewhere back in Atlanta. He’d never been much more than a shadow to hide in, a shroud over a mirror. Something to keep his past from finding him, and his present from knowing him.

Obi peers back over his shoulder, watching how Red tucks in close to him, how sometimes her fingers lightly brush over his bicep to keep him close when the crowd tries to pull them apart, and it’s terrifying how much how much he doesn’t want to hide. Not from someone who sees him like she does.

The beads jangle as he pushes them aside, whacking at his calves like some weak-ass tentacles, and god, what he wouldn’t give for this fucking place to have some class for once. The last thing he needs is to trip on this shit straight out of a hippy teacher’s magazine and really ruin his night.

He takes the first step, but he has to squint in the dark to make out the next. Sure, that strip lighting is supposed to help, but all it does is make depth perception a learned skill. All these rainbow colors are killing him.

With a lurch, he takes the next step. His foot hardly fits on the stair -- god, how small were the people that built this place? -- but what worries him more is the tug on his arm. Red’s stalled out on the landing.

He sucks in a breath, steeling himself. He knew this was going to happen. One drink isn’t nearly enough to make him look like a good idea, especially not when the last time they’d seen each other, she’d called him a big meanie and told him to go hug a tree. It was only a matter of time before she’d come to her senses.

“Hey.” She startles at the word, watching him mount the last stair with wide eyes. He expects her to be wary, to be scared, but instead she just seems...confused. “You okay?

“Hm?” Her head tilts, hair bobbing to one side, and honestly, now is not the time to be wondering if that patch of freckles on her neck might be sensitive.

“It’s just...” There’s no reason for this to be so hard. He’s done this before, loads of times. He may be a garbage fire of a person, but trying to force someone into bed with him? Not his style.

Besides, he’s never had trouble getting girls to take their clothes off. It’s just -- just--

He’s never actually cared. If a girl didn’t want to fuck him, there were plenty of ones who did; he just had to walk back into the club and find one. But now that it’s her, the girl who orders extra whip on her hot chocolate because coffee is too bitter, he doesn’t know how to -- to say she has a choice, but also he would, really, really like to take her home. Specifically.

God, who is he anymore?

“Do you...?” No, scratch that, that sounds dumb. Begging is not a good look for anyone. “We don’t have to--”

“Oh! Oh no, it’s not--” these stairs may be darker than pitch, but that blush of hers lights up the place-- “These stairs are treacherous.”

Obi has met cute girls. Ones with soft little bobs just like hers, who always walk around on their shivering fawn legs and stare up at him with their too-wide eyes, saying cloyingly niche things like it’s a replacement for having a personality. They don’t do shit for him.

Except now here this girl is, leaning into him like she’s sharing a secret, her mouth rucked up at a corner, and his only thought is the last time he heard that word, it was in an SAT prep course he was firmly failing. Also, what scores Red might have gotten on them; he can already see the way she’d duck her head as she tells him about her 1700 on the first pass, how she kept going back to get the perfect score only to be foiled by one of the vocabulary words that wasn’t in the study guide --

All right. He needs to get a grip here. One solid, whole-ass grip. This is just -- sex. Sex stuff. Not share time at the local preschool.

Her small feet shuffle at the landing, and he spreads a smirk across his lips. “Do you need me to carry you down, my lady?”

“Oh!” He can’t wait to see just how far down that blush goes. If they ever manage to get out of here. “N-no! I can-- I can handle myself.”

“Are you sure?” He leans in, just a little, until he can feel the heat of her body against his skin. “After all, I’m at your service tonight.”

This close, her chest brushes against his when she gasps. Her lips are still swollen from kissing, and, god, he feels the gap between them like a physical ache. “If that’s the case...”

Her hand lets go of his, fingers brushing over his until they slip though, palms kissing, intertwined. Like -- like hand-holding with some intent. Some heat.

She flutters him a look somewhere between shy and coy. “Then just make sure you don’t let go.”

It’s the smoothest move anyone’s ever pulled on him -- that anyone’s bothered to pull on him -- and god, they really need to find a flat surface and some privacy. Now.

“Right,” he says dumbly, because that’s the kind of guy his is now: the kind that has their breathing go all haywire because a girl wants to hold hands. The kind that entirely lose their game because someone says to hold on tight.

Obi doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. But he also wants it to keep on happening, so he just turns around like he holds hands all the time, like he’s a real hand-holding pro, and guides her down the stairs like she’s wearing stilettos and a six-foot train.

Or, with the way she wobbles, like one of those robo-dog toys that cost three hundred bucks but never learned how to navigate a house with more than one floor. She looks hot as fuck, but those are definitely not her wedges. He’ll have to write a thank you note to whatever friend lent them to her, because with the way she’s clinging to him every time her ankle gives a good shake, these bad boys are going to be the MVP of the evening.

Obi isn’t exactly cozy with Jesus or whatever, but he’s pretty sure making it down to the last step without a sprained ankle in sight is something close to divine intervention. He throws one up for whatever saint or angel had dominion over hot hookups and turns away, making to open the door, but--

“Oh!”

His whole body stutters. He only looked away for a second, and yet --

“Something wrong?” he asks, letting the door shut in front of him. “Did you--?”

“Oh, no, not anything...” She shakes her head, and down here it’s too dark to see her blush, but he knows it’s there. “I just forgot I have, um, stuff at the coat check.”

He stares for a minute, trying to glean anything off those guileless eyes with only the rainbow lights to guide him. On any other girl, it would be a dodge, a way to duck out of a hookup she was having second or third thoughts on. Which would be fair, since this morning he’d locked her out of her school, tried to tank her academic career --

But he just can’t see it on her. If she didn’t want him, she’d just...tell him to fuck off and die. Or, more likely, go hug a tree.

God, that should really not be doing anything for him. But here he is, half-hard and holding the door open, hoping she likes holding his hand enough to come home with him.

“Okay,” he murmurs, following when she tugs him out the door. “Should I...?”

Stay? Go? He’s really starting to dig the way her hand fits into his, but if she wants to make a break for it --

“I’ll just be a second,” she promises, with the sort of earnestness that doesn’t belong anywhere outside of one of those movies they made him watch in English class. With one last squeeze of his hand, she peels away, getting into line just a few feet away.

He misses her already.

This is -- it’s trouble, pure and simple. He’s supposed to be thinking about how much he wants to fuck her, how good her red hair is going to look spilled out over his black sheets. And he is, on some level, it’s just --

He also want to know her favorite color. Her favorite food. Where she’s from and what classes she likes. What her major is and whether she’s got siblings. And it’s not -- not --

It’s not normal. Not for him. Other may people may be into this whole dating crap, begging for their hearts to be stomped on, but he isn’t. He doesn’t do feelings.

He glances over at the line. Red stands three back, stuck behind two girls trying to find their ticket with six drinks and no pockets between them.

She likes plain bagels and cream cheese, and hot cocoa with extra whip. Sometimes she’ll treat herself to the berry cream cheese too, instead of the regular, but only if she’s by herself, poring over one of those ridiculously thick textbooks of hers, the ones that cost bank because you have to buy a new edition every year. He’d watch her sometimes, glad that he at least hadn’t picked a STEM major since the books alone would put him in the red. She’s got a bad habit of biting her lips, and a hoard of lip balm to help, and every single one of them is made from local beeswax. Strawberry is her favorite, and --

And that should be enough for him. More than enough. He doesn’t need --

“Can I help you?”

A hostess blinks at him, service smile in place, and it strikes him that he’s just...lounging here, right where people wait to be seated for actual food and not just fried pickle chips and mozzarella sticks.

“Oh, no, I’m just--” he looks over at the coat check, catching the red in a sea of black-- “I’m not--”

Red glances up, catching his gaze, and she just -- waves. And smiles, her cheeks flushing a sweet pink, and he -- he waves back, just as cutesy and small.

“Oh, you’re waiting for your girlfriend,” the hostess says. “Never mind! You two have a nice night.”

Girlfriend. Girlfriend. “Thanks,” he says, definitely not squeaking, not even a little bit. “We will.”

Obi shifts, pressing his shoulders to the wall, and lets his legs settle out angle. Not a lot, but just enough to give him the real tall drink of water look. It may be cliche, but that cool guy lean makes girls crazy, and he’s something of a connoisseur of lighting a fire.

Still, it feels -- off. Weird. He can’t shake that maybe he doesn’t look like some bad boy, good for a night in the sack, but -- but --

A boyfriend. The kind you bring home to mom, or grandma, or -- or whatever sort of parental guardian situation you have. The kind of person you introduce to someone you want to believe your life is together.

And he‘s not that guy. He’s never been that guy. But Red keeps throwing him the cutest impatient looks, even tapping at a watch she doesn’t have and --

And maybe he could be. If the right person came along.

The club doors slam open so suddenly, even the bouncer jumps. The girl that stomps through is dressed to the nines, all black sequins and tanned skin, hair so dark that vantablack would be jealous. The kind of girl that would be just his type, if only that hadn’t suddenly shifted to cute red heads who think gosh and dang are four-letter words.

“Ha,” the hostess scrapes out at the girl beelines to the coat check. “Feel bad for whoever is on the wrong side of her.”

He can’t shake the feeling she’s familiar. “Tell me about it.”

“Shirayuki!” she yells out, and oh, of course, it’s Red who startles. Because this is Red’s friend, the girl who would catch breakfast with her on Tuesdays and Thursdays, right before her physics lab --

Kihal Toghrul. Father’s some big deal back in Puerto Rico, or at least big enough for it to warrant Haruka telling him to stay the fuck away.

Well, good thing Obi’s not working for him anymore, because it looks like he’s about to get all up in that business, and not in a fun way. At least he knows who to thank for the shoes, now.

He can’t hear their conversation; the coat check’s in sight, but with all the noise from the restaurant and the club, it’s impossible to make out anything but Sparky’s explosive gestures and Red’s calm, measured refusal. Even still, he knows the topic of conversation is him, namely, what the fuck are you thinking, going home with that guy. And not just because She-Hulk is throwing glares at him that would kill any man who possessed a sense of shame and decency.

Well, jokes on her. He hasn’t had any of that for years.

Obi leans back with his most disaffected slouch and smirks. Not just any smirk, of course, but his biggest, smuggest bad boy smirk he can summon, complete with insolent eyebrow raise. It’s gotten him kicked out of more schools than he can count at this point, and it must work just as well against overprotective girl friends as it does on priggish deans, because it sends Ground Zero over there through the roof.

Whatever, might as well have a little fun before she ruins his night anyway. Not like Red’s going to go anywhere once Little Miss Cockblock reminds her that it’s been T-minus 8 hours since she blew her fuse at him. Sure, he seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago, when it had been go home with him or commit acts of public indecency right there on the dance floor, but they’re not hot and heavy now, and --

“Hey!”

He turns, straight into a blinding flash. He’s still seeing afterimages when Valkyrie gets right up in his grille, glaring at him with face more thunderous than Ragnarok.

“I have your picture now,” she tells him, tone informing him that this is a threat-type situation, and he better act accordingly. “And I’m gonna send it straight to the cops if you pull anything funny.”

For a good minute, all he can do is stare. It’s not the first time he’s had someone threaten to call the cops on him, but honestly -- he’s seen himself in the mirror. That’s fair.

But still, still --

He laughs. Not even a good old chuckle, just a full on belly laugh, because here he is, Public Enemy Number One as far as this chick is concerned, and she’s -- what? Threatening to send campus police a really unflattering tinder pic because her friend misses check-in? He knows exactly how much attention that is going to get on Thirsty Thursday, when they’re out mediating ugly drunk break-ups and calling EMTs for stomach pumps. It’s like --

Obi chokes on a breath, fingers clenching his shirt. It’s like she tried to warn Red off, and she -- she --

She wants him anyway.

“Yuck it up,” Miss Empty Threats huffs, which is much less annoying now that he knows none of her ranting has put a stop to his evening, that even though Red has every reason to back out of this thing, she still -- still -- “If you put a hand on Shirayuki that she doesn’t like, I’ll cut it off. And your balls too!”

He wants to inform her that, against all odds, there doesn’t seem to be a finger of his she isn’t asking for, but for once, he knows better. Getting into it with Mother Duck will just make her scoop up all her ducklings, no matter how hard they protest, and anyway, he doesn’t --

He doesn’t want to upset her. Because she’s Red’s friend. A good friend, from the looks of it. And he respects that. He’s glad she has someone like that looking out for her.

Besides, getting into it with Mama here over nothing is only going to give Red second thoughts about whether she wants to -- to -- ah, hang out with him again.

Yeah. That’s it. Because he’s the sort of guy who hangs out with girls he hooks up with, definitely. This is -- is friend stuff. Not -- not anything more serious than that.

Red’s hurrying her way over, looking positively stormy, and Elena de la Vega gives him one last glare for good measure. “Don’t forget what I said!”

“Don’t worry,” he tells her with a grin, “you’ve made yourself memorable.”

Red watches her friend flounce off with a worried look, one she turns on him once Hurricane Kihal has stormed her way back up to the club. She’s had time to have second thoughts now, even third thoughts, and with Toghrul’s interference, she’d probably had four, five, and six, plenty of time to realize --

“Are you ready to go?”

He blinks. She’s flushed, collarbone to hairline at least, eyes fixed to his shoes like she’s afraid he might -- that he’s the one that’s going to call it off. Like maybe dealing with five seconds of her surrogate hover-parent has convinced him this whole thing isn’t worthwhile, that she’s not worthwhile, and --

And he doesn’t know how to say he’s talked to her for maybe ten minutes straight without her yelling at him, but he wants to know if she has anything spicier than tree hugger in her vocabulary.

So he doesn’t.

Obi hooks a finger around her jaw, tilting it up so she’s looking at him, and slow enough to give her time, he leans in. It’s not anything fancy; no clashing tongues or seeking hips like a few minutes ago, but it’s nice. A quick and tender.

It’s not until he pulls away, catching her wide eyes, that he realizes -- that’s a boyfriend kiss.

She’s the one to lean back it, to brush her lips against his, and this one lingers, long enough he wraps his hand around her back to steady her. Long enough that his breath starts to come quick, that his dick twitches in anticipation.

She settles back on her heels, eyes still closed, breath huffing softly between them.

“Yeah,” he manages, trying not to think how much he want to see her face like that again, all softly blissful. “Let’s...let’s go.”

He takes her hand again, and this time she threads their fingers right away, tucking in close. “Okay.”

She gives him one, bright smile, and he --

Oh boy, he is...he is in trouble.

[helplessly-nonstop]

Depression (B. Wyatt series)

Hey, it’s Cassie and I actually have a series for you this time! Description, would you be a doll and tel our lovely readers what they’ve stumbled upon!

Honey Bee, or the reader, is a poem blogger and they meet a depressed Abigail Wyatt. As time passes by, they grow closer. But an abusive relationship separates the two and on Honey Bee’s visit to Florida, they realize that it’s too little too late. It will be a three part series: Depression, Impression, and Succesion. Please enjoy and don’t repost to other sites. Because I will find you and I will end you. Cool? Cool. My beta was my favorite soulmate: @sporadic-fics! (Go read her stuff, I love it all)

WC:2454 (the next two parts will ((more than likely)) be longer)

Warnings: depictions of an abusive relationship, mentions of murder, thoughts of suicide, Klandy Borton is a garbage human, character death, mentions of child abuse, anyway, here we go! (GIF was found on Google)

I was a social butterfly on all counts and one person had confided in me when I had posted a poem about suicide on my blog. Her name was Abigail Wyatt and she admitted that she wasn’t having the best life that she could be living. She and her two brothers lost their parents when they were young and unfortunately was pushed into the foster system.

Years had passed and there was multiple families that neglected and abused them, until finally, the oldest brother turned eighteen and they were taken from foster care under his watch. I took her under my wing, even though we had never met in person, but from there, we traded war stories. I explained where I got my inspiration to write and she told me all about her brothers: Bo and Bray.

Bo was apparently very outgoing and she confided in me that she believed that he was gay, which made me giggle a little. When she asked me why I laughed, I informed her that in sets of three siblings, there’s usually at least one that is a member of the LGBTQ+ community. She laughed with me for a while then continued telling me about her family.

Bray was the quietest of the three, with an aura of danger surrounding him, and she stated that she was often worried about what he might do if he had to protect his siblings from serious harm. I assured her that she should have nothing to worry about, but to be honest, there was no way of being sure.

But things went from good to bad for Abigail after a while. She had met a man by the name of Randy Orton and she told me that she had loved him like she had never loved anyone before.

“Abigail, are you sure that you truly know what kind of person this guy is? I just don’t want you getting hurt, that’s all.” I stated, bumping my apartment door shut with my hip. My hands were full with groceries while my phone was squished between my shoulder and cheek, something that was definitely uncomfortable. When I realized that I didn’t get it closed all the way, I raised my foot and kicked it in to its place.

“Oh, Honey Bee, I couldn’t be more sure! He’s so sweet and considerate, never late to pick me up! He works at the police station here in town!”she informed me, a small, dreamy sigh leaving her throat. I gave a laugh and set my bags on the ground before kicking my shoes off my feet.

“All right, as long as you know you’re safe with him. I’m going to get off of here and make some dinner.Tell Bo that I said hello!”

“Oh don’t lie to me, Honey Bee, you’re going to order in Panda Express for dinner cause you don’t want to cook.”she scolded but her soft giggle assured me that she wasn’t truly shaming me. I gave a grin then ended the call, beginning to put my food away in the sections that it belongs to. I laid on my couch for a few moments and stared at the ceiling before I decided that I was going to succumb to my ridiculous addiction to Chinese takeout.

Forty five minutes passed and finally, my food arrived, allowing me to retreat into my room properly. A small chirp through my phone drew me away from my bingeing of Brooklyn Nine Nine and I rolled away to check who texted me and raised an eyebrow when I realized that it wasn’t just any number: it was Abigail: Leave her alone or I swear to God, you’ll fucking die.

I jerked up out of bed and stared at the screen, unsure of how to react to this message. Apparently Abby hasn’t told her boyfriend that her closest friend just happened to be a person halfway across the country. I paced the length of my room and finally paused, deciding that I would call her in the morning. She was obviously with Randy tonight and I didn’t want to risk her getting hurt because I want to discuss her possibly dangerous boyfriend.

I set my half eaten sweet and sour chicken in the fridge and returned to my bed, staring at my clock, hoping that I could fix whatever Abigail had gotten herself into with this guy before it was too late.

With a quick roll to the right, I hit the floor with a groan, looking through the window to see that it was now daylight and snowing. Fantastic.

I pulled myself back to my feet and checked my phone to see if I had received any new messages that I should’ve been worried about. Luckily, there was just one and it really was from Abby this time. I swiped upwards then pressed in my thumbprint before reading what she sent me,”Hey, sorry about that last text! Randy can get a bit jealous. Don’t worry, tho, explained it all!”

I hesitated on what I should say, my thumbs hovering over the text keys, then I decided that I needed to see her face when I asked her these questions that had been brewing in my head all night. I guess worrying about the possibility that your friend’s boyfriend is a psycho really doesn’t let you sleep at night.

“You home alone?” I sent back in return, hoping that she’d give me the okay to FaceTime her. A few seconds skimmed by then she answered, ”Yeah, Randy left for work early today.”

A small sigh left me, my shoulders dropping in relief, then I pressed the button to go ahead and call. It rang three times and she finally picked up on the fourth one, her face slowly coming into focus. But that’s when I noticed it.

“Oh my God, Abigail, do you have a black eye?!” I demanded, leaning forward for a better look. She brushed a timid hand over her injury and reassured me, ”It’s fine, I hit the door knob cause I slipped. No big deal, I promise.”

“Abigail, I don’t think you really know this guy. I mean, he threatened to kill me and he doesn’t even know me!” Her eyes flashed with uncertainty and I began to say something else when she rushed out,”It’s fine, I fixed it! He’s gonna change, I swear it, Honey Bee! It’s fine, now, please, can we just talk about something else?”

And stupid, idiotic me being me, I allowed her to change the subject. But things didn’t become fine and Randy most certainly didn’t change.

Months passed and I began hearing from my friend less and less frequently, something that was uncommon for her. Eventually, time for my semi annual visit down to Florida had arrived and before I knew it, I was getting settled in my usual little hotel that I stayed in. I decided to FaceTime her to make sure that she was at home, since it was Thursday and she didn’t work today.

Her phone rang four times and for a moment, I thought she was going to let me go to voicemail, when she finally picked up. A gasp escaped me at her appearance and I stared at her with my mouth agape, unsure on what to say.

Her cheek was swollen, her black eye barely concealed, and her bottom lip was busted. But really frightened me was the bruises maring her throat. It was obvious that she was at her house, but there had been drastic changes made.

“Abigail, what happened?” I murmured, pressing my hand to my mouth, as if it could stop the tears brewing in my eyes. She began to give an excuse when someone snatched away the phone, shouting,”Fuck off, it’s none of your fucking business!” And with that, the screen went dark. I stared at my phone for a few moments then finally, I acted on what I knew needed to be done. I called the emergency number for Brooksville, Florida, desperate to send help for my friend.

“Hello, 911, is everything alright?”

“No! No, I think my friend is in danger. I called her and she looks like her boyfriend is beating her! When I asked what happened, he took her phone and smashed it. Please, could you send someone out to check on her?” I rushed out as calmly as I could manage. The man on the other end paused for a quick second and I thought that he might’ve hung up on me then he asked,”Do you know what the address is?”

I began tossing items from my purse then finally dragged my planner out, flipping to all of the addresses I had written down and thankfully, I had Abigail’s. I recited it back to the operator and I could hear him clicking on the keyboard before he answered,”Okay, we are sending in a patrol car now to check on your friend. Do you know what the boyfriend’s name is?”

I began telling him it then paused, remembering one of the few details that Abigail provided me about this dick fuck: he worked at the police department. Cops had a history of hiding domestic abuse cases like this when one of their own was the abuser and I was not about to let Abigail be let down by a corrupt system.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t. I hope that’s okay.” I apologized, fake sympathy leaking into my voice.

“It’s alright, not a problem. Alright, it sounds like the patrol car is there now. Would you like to stay on the line with me, see if your friend is okay right away?”

“Yes, please, you could.” Silence hit the line and I waited with bated breath to hear what was going on then I heard words that I never wanted to hear.

“Shots fired, shots fired! One officer down, suspect is deceased, victim is critical. We need a bus!” Faint shouting rose through the phone and I ended the call quickly, unsure of what to do. My hands fidgeted, tossing my phone back and forth, then finally, decided to go digging through our past conversations in search of her brother’s number. I knew I should’ve saved it when she first sent it to me.

Two hours passed and I was barely a month through our texts when my phone began ringing with the caller ID as someone from Brooksville, Florida. I quickly picked up then asked,”Hello?”

“Hi, I’m lookin’ for a person by the name of Hunny Bee?”a man questioned, his voice something of a phone sex operator. He had somewhat of an accent and I realized that I knew that drawl. It was Bray, Abigail’s oldest brother. He somehow got my number and was calling me, hopefully with intentions of delivering good news.

“This is them. Is Abigail alright?” I asked, nibbling on my nails. A small sigh escaped his mouth then he stated,”I think you need to meet us down at the hospital, sweetheart.” I paused at his statement then began nodding as I agreed,”Of course, I’ll grab a cab and be there in ten.”

I snatched my bag from the bed and darted out the door, already ending the call with Bray and dialing for an Uber.

I rushed into the hospital and slammed my hands on the desk, rushing out,”I’m looking for Abigail Wyatt.” The man running the desk looked upwards and said with a monotone, ”Can’t if you’re not family.”

“I’m her sister in law and I suggest if you don’t want her brother in your face, you need to fucking tell me what room they’re in.” I snapped, cracking my knuckles. He rolled his eyes and clicked a few tabs on the keyboard before informing me where they were.

I rushed upstairs and began scanning the room numbers for Abigail’s when I heard someone call my name. I turned on my heel and watched as Bo came into view.

“Bo! Have you heard anything yet?” I rushed out after he crushed me into a hug. He pulled away and I watched his face crumble, giving away exactly what fate my dearest friend had met. Another man stepped beside us and I immediately connected who it was: Bray, the oldest of the Wyatt siblings.

“By the time that the police had arrived, it appears that Randall shot her. They warned him to lower his weapon but instead, he fired at the cops who in return, shot him. I’m very sorry, but Abigail has passed.”he informed me and for a second, the briefest of moments, there was silence, then my mind shattered.

“No! She- she can’t be gone, oh my god, how could I let this happen,I should’ve known, I should have pushed her to get help.” I sobbed, my knees buckling from underneath me. Bray caught me by my arms and lowered me to the ground, allowing me to continue my breakdown. He petted my hair and informed me,”Abigail knew the risks. You did everything you could do, it’s not your fault that she didn’t heed the warnings you were giving to her.”

“But-but I could’ve helped her more, could’ve convinced her to break it off with him.”

“Sweetheart, even if she would’ve tried, I imagine that the same result would’ve came along. This will not fall on your delicate shoulders.” Bray assured me, bringing me to my feet. I let out a sniffle and he offered,”Let me take you back to the house, you can rest there. Bo and I have some… arrangements to take care of.” My mind filled in his pause and I gave a stiff nod, muttering,”All my stuff is back at my hotel though.” He rubbed a calloused thumb over my cheek and said,”If you give me your key, I will retrieve your items and bring it back. I don’t think you need to be alone right now.”

“I-I don’t know why I’m not comforting you… you’re the one who lost his sister.” I murmured, lifting my head. He gave a stiff smile and replied,”Indeed I did.. but you gave her life. After she met you, she was like a beacon for us. You blessed her with light when darkness was being to consume her very being. Thank you… for everything that you did for Abigail.” I nodded then he dropped Bo and I at the house to settle in while he went to go get my items from my hotel room. It was going to take a while for me to fully come to terms about what the hell had taken place over the last couple weeks.

[kathleenseiber]

How gross ‘chastity belts’ shape butterfly evolution

New research digs into the role sexual conflict between male and female plays in butterfly evolution.

Some male butterflies go to extreme lengths to ensure their paternity—sealing their mate’s genitalia with a waxy “chastity belt” to prevent future liaisons. But female butterflies can fight back by evolving larger or more complex organs that are tougher to plug.

“Butterflies and moths continue to surprise us,”

Males, in turn, counterattack by fastening on even more fantastic structures with winglike projections, slippery scales, or pointy hooks.

It’s a battle that pits male and female reproductive interests against one another, with the losing sex evolving adaptations to thwart the winner’s strategies.

Could this sexual one-upmanship ultimately result in new species? It’s a longstanding hypothesis and one that would help explain how butterflies became so diverse. But it has proven difficult to test.

Brush-footed butterflies are not the only group that makes mating plugs. The regal Apollo butterfly, Parnassius charltonius, is a swallowtail that shares this trait. (Credit: Carvalho et. al.)

Ana Paula dos Santos de Carvalho, a doctoral student in the Kawahara Lab at the Florida Museum of Natural History, tackled the question in the new study of mating plugs in brush-footed butterflies.

She traced the trait’s evolution and analyzed the rate at which new species appeared across the Acraeini tribe, a group of about 300 species. Unexpectedly, lineages with and without mating plugs evolved at the same rate, suggesting other factors such as habitat may be responsible for driving the insects’ diversity.

“I was expecting to see an association between plugs and new species appearing faster, but my work suggested there was no link at all,” Carvalho says. “Other studies had proposed a connection between sexual conflict and diversity, so these results came as a surprise.”

Found in about 1% of butterfly species, external mating plugs, also known as sphragis, can resemble a scab or a blob of petroleum jelly in some species while others take astonishingly architectural forms.

After mating, male butterflies excrete a pre-molded plug from intricate abdominal ducts that give the plug its complex shape. The plug hardens on the female, blocking her reproductive organs, but not the orifice she uses to lay eggs. (Credit: Carvalho et. al.)

But they all serve the same purpose: enforcing female monogamy. Because a female butterfly fertilizes the majority of her eggs with sperm from her last partner, males have a vested interest in blocking rivals.

Females, however, stand to benefit by mating with more than one male. Another partner may provide higher-quality sperm, and multiple mating events can increase the genetic diversity of offspring. Plus, females get a health boost from the nutrients included in males’ sperm packets.

“…we still have a lot to learn about what drives insect diversity and the role sexual conflict plays in evolution.”

To help guarantee their own successors, males in plug-producing species omit the courtship behavior that often precedes mating in other butterflies. Instead, “males pursue the females, grab them midair, and drag them to the ground,” Carvalho says. After depositing their sperm, males excrete a pre-molded mating plug, which hardens on the female’s abdomen.

Plugs may indirectly constrain males as well. Making a mating plug is an expensive investment of time and resources, potentially limiting how many females a male can inseminate, she says.

Whether females can remove the plug requires further study, but in her fieldwork and museum specimen analysis, Carvalho found the structures were often partially broken or missing in species with smaller, more delicate plugs. In species with large, complex plugs, she usually found the structures intact and rarely encountered a female without one—a sign that males may be “winning.”

But Carvalho’s study revealed some female victories as well. In the evolutionary family tree she constructed for Acraeini butterflies, she found evidence that mating plugs originated once across the tribe and were subsequently lost in some species, suggesting a successful female counteroffensive. Wide variations in the shape and size of female genitalia also hint at attempts to render mating plugs ineffective.

“Butterflies and moths continue to surprise us,” says coauthor Akito Kawahara, curator at the Florida Museum’s McGuire Center for Lepidoptera and Biodiversity. “This study suggests we still have a lot to learn about what drives insect diversity and the role sexual conflict plays in evolution.”

The research appears in Systematic Biology.

Additional coauthors are from the Florida Museum, the Natural History Museum of Geneva, and the University of Richmond.

Funding from Brazil’s National Counsel of Technological and Scientific Development and the US National Science Foundation supported the research.

Source: University of Florida

The post How gross ‘chastity belts’ shape butterfly evolution appeared first on Futurity.

How gross ‘chastity belts’ shape butterfly evolution published first on https://triviaqaweb.weebly.com/

[tangledwing]

Dryas iulia (often incorrectly spelled julia), commonly called the Julia butterfly, Julia heliconian, the flame, or flambeau, is a species of brush-footed butterfly. The sole representative of its genus Dryas, it is native from Brazil to southern Texas and Florida, and in summer can sometimes be found as far north as eastern Nebraska. Over 15 subspecies have been described.

[cutieodonoghue]

fly away with me

summary: astronauts au! lots of fluff. oops.

word count: ~1600

He can remember the exact moment he wanted to do this.

He was six years old, sitting in the passenger's seat of his brother’s truck while Liam paced around in the light coming from the parked vehicle’s headlights, voice raised as he fought to keep Killian with him.

He was listening to the radio- crackling due to distance, but enough for him to hear the woman talking about the latest space launch.

With bright eyes, Killian had stared up at the night sky, counted the stars, and suddenly desperately wished he could be there. Not here, with Liam or in the system where he’d likely end up. If his parents didn’t wish to stay, then neither did he.

He’d rather chase the stars any day.

Now, he’s sitting in a bar with a baseball cap on his head, watching the television as it shows off the vessel he’s about to captain into those stars.

He’s not drinking alone and it’s for the better, because Emma Swan might act strong but he knows she’s just as alone as he is. Perhaps it’s what drew him to her while they were in training.

She’s leaning her cheek into her hand as she stares at the screen, her beautiful blonde curls having been let out loose around her shoulders. She hasn’t said a word since he offered to buy her a drink, but she keeps glancing over at him like she’d like to.

Killian keeps a smile to himself as he has a sip of beer.

“Are you going to miss it?” he asks her. “Being on Earth?”

Emma’s eyes widen just slightly and slowly a smile spreads as she shakes her head. She straightens out her posture and her tongue presses between her lips for a thoughtful second.

“I… don’t know what I have to miss,” she replies, a crease forming between her eyes. She laughs under her breath and has a sip of her drink.

Killian stares at her with curiosity, mainly. She’s a bit of a mystery to him and they’ve been acquaintances for a few years now.

“I think I’ll miss the ocean,” Killian offers. “Next to space, the ocean is my favorite.”

Emma quirks a smile at him and lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah? The ocean?”

Killian shrugs. He smiles at her. “Did a few years in the Navy before I joined the program.”

The woman beside him hums a laugh. She has a tiny smile on her lips as she turns toward him, fingers gripping the edge of the bartop. She searches his eyes and takes a soft breath.

“I think I’ll miss my apartment,” she says. Emma’s teeth caress her lower lip and she shifts upright, turning back toward her drink. “My bed.”

Killian can’t help but laugh once. “To be fair, anything’s better than those pods.”

Emma laughs with him and nods in agreement. “Yeah.”

..

He’s wearing black combat boots and tight black jeans and a baseball cap. He has dimples in his cheeks that show when he smiles and he’s the most beautiful person she’s ever met.

Emma grew up with only space in mind. She’s only ever wanted to be an astronaut.

Once, when she was in school, she wrote a paper about how quiet it is in space and how loneliness wouldn’t exist because everything in space is so much simpler than it is on Earth. She craves that feeling of purposeful solitude even today.

Getting into the space program was hard. Being chosen to fly was even harder.

And now she’s sitting in the passenger’s seat of Killian’s pickup truck while they fly down a dirt road in Florida. The air is sticky, but they keep the windows down, and Emma can’t stop laughing when Killian starts to sing along badly to the music on the radio.

Her fingers dip outside of the truck, dancing along the wind, and she bites down on her lip when her heart skips a beat. She has permanent butterflies in the pit of her belly now.

This is the most fun she’s had in a long time.

Killian pulls the truck up to the beach and he parks in a place where they can hear the waves rolling in, but can’t quite see anything.

It’s calming- the roll of the tides.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Emma asks him. She leans her head back against the headrest and turns toward him as she reaches for the necklace around her neck.

Killian turns as much as he can toward her, but sits upright in the cab of the truck, admiring her with those big blue eyes of his.

“Sure.”

Emma takes a breath. “I’m glad we got picked to go together. You and me.”

Killian laughs. “I’m glad too.”

Her heart skips a beat. She bites on her lip. She could probably kiss him right now, but she won’t. Keeping distance is important to her. Fear keeps her from the pursuit of something that might hurt her in the future.

Killian must recognize this, because he smiles and nods his head. “We should get back, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah.”

He’s a perfect gentleman, driving her to the hotel and walking her to her door. He smiles at her then and she almost wishes she could be brave enough to ask him to come inside.

Maybe this thing between them can be a space thing. Maybe it doesn’t have to be an Earth thing.

In space, she can be someone she wouldn’t be here. She’ll feel like she can be herself- finally.

…

The shuttle has a constant hum in the air.

He likes it more than he likes the noise of Earth. He likes a lot about being in space more than he likes being on Earth. He likes zero gravity. He likes having time alone. He likes the companionship he feels with his crew.

When he stepped foot onto the Moon’s surface for the first time, he whooped so loud that his crew laughed back at him and told him to quiet down or they’d mute him.

They’re only going to be here for a few weeks while they run some tests, but it’s a dream come true, being allowed to set up a base here amongst the stars.

He finds that after working, he likes to sit in his pod and stare out at the stars, somehow closer but still so far away.

Emma comes to him one night, grabbing onto the wall of his pod while he rests inside. She peers out the window.

“Is it what you thought it’d be?”

Killian stares only at her and shakes his head. “No. It’s more.”

Her cheeks turn red and she looks out at the stars again, her whole body bobbing while she tries to hold herself together. She manages a smile at him and glances over her shoulder before sliding to the front of his pod.

“I don’t want to leave,” she admits. “I like it here. I like the hum. I like the distance.”

Killian’s heart aches, but he knows the feeling all too well so he nods his head. “It’s good perspective.”

“This is all I’ve ever wanted. To be in space.” Emma says softly. “I don’t have anyone to go home to.”

Killian can see her thinking as she stares out the window again. Some of her hair has come loose of how she has it tied away and the strands bob bounce gracefully along with the flow of her movements.

Emma turns back to look at him and he feels bravery swell up against his breastbone.

“Well, Swan, you’ve got me.” Killian says, keeping his voice low.

For a moment, she stares at him with parted lips, and then she scoffs. She pushes away from his pod, going toward her own.

“What?” he asks. “Why’s that funny?”

“Because,” Emma says. She leans her hand against her pod wall and faces him, shaking her head.

“Because what?” he asks, leaning out of his pod a little. He cracks a wry grin. “You know me, Swan, and I know you. I don’t see why we can’t be at least friends when we land on Earth again.”

Emma tilts her head and sighs. “Killian, are you seriously hitting on me in space?”

Now it’s his turn to snort. He shakes his head. “Bloody hell, Swan, if you think for one minute I’d ever hit on you in space-”

Emma pushes back toward him and suddenly, their noses touch as she grabs his collar. She wears a wry grin on her lips and he realizes it in an instant- this is exactly what she wanted.

“Are you hitting on me in space, Miss Swan?” he asks in a whisper.

Emma shrugs. “Maybe I just want to say I’ve had a kiss in space.”

“That would be rather cool, wouldn’t it? Has anyone ever-”

“Shut up.”

“As you-”

It’s likely the most magical kiss he’s ever had, her fingers against his collar while she manages to cup his cheek. Both of them could float away at any second, and yet they remain together until they decide to part.

Emma smiles to herself, her eyes closed as she manages to maneuver herself back to her pod. He watches on, awestruck, and she just nods her head at him as soon as she has a hold on her pod wall.

He falls in love with Emma Swan then in that moment as his fingertips brush against his lips in disbelief.

[whatnext10]

Colorful Spring Butterflies are Taking to the Air

So Many Eyes Even though much of the United States is struggling with late snow, here in Florida spring has definitely arrived. I’ve recently shared several posts about spring wildflowers, but for wildflowers to thrive they need pollinators. And of course, the pollinators are also coming back out along with the flowers. On Monday I went outside to do some bird watching and ended up getting…

[whole-dip]

Animal Kingdom Analysis

Walt Disney wanted animals in his theme parks since before construction even began. Following the Disneyland tv show format of each episode tying into a specific land (Fantasyland was a fantasy film, Frontierland featured Davey Crockett, Tomorrowland featured educational material on space travel) Adventureland tied in with the True Life Adventures, nature documentaries about wildlife in exotic locations. The original Jungle Cruise was intended to feature live animals that guests would pass by on their voyage, all seemingly free to roam throughout the environment just as they would in their natural habitats. But as the Disney company learned time and time again, absolutely no living thing can be trusted to be show ready if left to their own free will, especially not the kind that work for free. 

And so, the disney company would experiment with live animals from time to time over the years, only really being able to consistently have horses featured for guest interaction. However, in the early 90s Disney was incredibly aggressive with their expansions. Parks were opening around the world and current CEO Michael Eisner was eagerly hearing pitches for the most incredible projects. Still, no one could figure out how to control wild animals in a way that would allow for consistent and safe themed entertainment for large amounts of guests. That all changed though when imagineer Joe Rohde pitched his concept. While presenting slides and art to the executives, the door to the meeting opened and in walked a tiger, on a leash of course. The massive beast grazed past each office chair; Joe didn’t acknowledge it at all. As suddenly as it arrived, it left. The problem Disney faced was trying to bring the wild to the realm of people. Joe Rohde told them what they needed to do was bring people to the Animal Kingdom.

Joe Rohde began his career as a high school history and social studies teacher in California, along with designing sets for the school’s theatre department. Allegedly, a disney imagineer was attending one of the school’s productions and was absolutely blown away by the production design of the show and personally reached out to Rohde for a spot within imagineering. From there, Rohde became part of the informal “second generation” of imagineers. Their most prominent project was EPCOT. This group of imagineers was the first to be led without Walt Disney. While Walt Disney was not a hands on designer within the imagineering department, his sense of storytelling as a producer did provide a very consistent vision when disparate projects and technologies needed to be unified as one cohesive idea. EPCOT, while originally designed as a model government and city with fantastic technologies that never needed to enter the realities beyond the eternal blue sky phase, now had been scaled back into a feasible second gate at the young Walt Disney World Resort in Lake Buena Vista, Florida. Rohde was responsible for the Mexico Pavilion within EPCOT’s World Showcase area, section of the park devoted showing authentic cultural experiences of countries all over the world. 

The Mexico pavilion emerges from the horizon with its massive mesoamerican stepped pyramid. It is lush with trees and brush, and features ancient aztec designs carved into the stones that makes the pyramid. As you venture closer, you find that you may enter the pyramid into a beautiful Mexican town lit by lanterns, stars, and soft moonlight. Yes, the inside of the pyramide simulates an outdoor town square. If you look up you find stars twinkling, across the way are more mesoamerican pyramids, guarded by massive olmec heads. Within the pavilion are shops, a bar, and a restaurant. Many people find that they spend so long inside, they’re shocked to exit and remember it’s still daylight outside. Rohde, like many imagineers, valued authenticity and intricate details when creating the pavilion. He pored over historical books and researched real locations. Rohde sought to develop a pavilion that did not just appear to be Mexico, but rather a space that showed the rich history of many mexican towns, from ancient mesoamerican societies, to colonial regime, to independent and proud land. Here is where the seeds of Animal Kingdom were sown.

The actual Animal Kingdom park is located at the far southwestern corner of the disney property. It’s actually about a fifteen minute drive from the Magic Kingdom park and even most of the hotels. When riding on the free bus services, it can be roughly thirty minutes or more. The park is far away from almost everything else on property and to travel there is truly a journey. This is actually because Animal Kingdom required more land than any of the other three parks. It’s roughly 540 acres in total. 

When you arrive at the front gate, one of the first things you’ll notice is that you can’t see anything. Just beyond ticketing is a thick wall of green trees and foliage. Guests wander in through this area but you can’t see where they’re going. If you have a keen eye you may notice the smaller animal exhibits or even DiVine, the stilt walking spirit of the flora itself. Many people can get lost in this small section known as the Oasis. While it’s really a short winding path, its design intentionally keeps you from being able to see more than about twenty feet in front of you because of the curves and turns it takes around the trees. As you walk forward you’ll eventually escape from the brush and find yourself staring at the entirety of the park. The massive Tree of Life emerges from the center, small buildings dot the landscape and birds, both exotic and local, fly across the sky. You’ve arrived.

This small entrance perfectly embodies the way disney parks were built with film language. It utilizes an almost montage style of path design to create a sense of confusion and misdirection to suddenly then switch to a sweeping establishing shot of a landscape. It is surreal to see just how explicitly and unsubtly the park manages to completely control your point of view at all times. The rapid turning in the forested area lets out into an incredibly wide pathway immediately after, but further, you can see the full breadth of the park from this one vantage point. To achieve this, Animal Kingdom is actually built in a bowl like structure that traps in the heat needed for the higher temperature plants that decorate the park. It also keeps more moisture inside and makes the already humid Florida feel even wetter. Beyond just featuring exotic wildlife, the park simulates the experience of exploring and finding wild locales on your own. 

From this elevated point, you progress down towards Discovery Island. This is the central hub that ties together the far off lands that encompass the other areas of the park. Here, we see the idealized spirit of nature’s throne room. This is the transcendental idea of nature in harmony as we imagine it in our dreams, where all exists in harmony, one world. This is exemplified by the world music playing, especially the live Viva Gaia band that plays a beautiful mix of music from cultures around the world. The intricate wood carvings on the storefronts suggest that not only is the wood itself old and storied, but these stories, of bears and lizards and butterflies, are so intertwined with the wood that their forms seep out of them, demanding to be seen. At the center of it all is the Tree of Life, a 145 foot tall baobab tree with intricate designs of the wild animals that make up our world’s population. The largest of these portraits are obvious, but as you venture closer you see even more where you once thought there were none. There really is no spot on this tree in which the faces of wildlife cannot be found. At night, the tree awakens and its forms move and roar, they remind you that they are very much alive and hear with you. This nightly show does not explode with pyrotechnic bombast, but rather it subtly nods at you. It acknowledges your life, your story, your being, and in turn you acknowledge it. It’s a far more subtle experience than most guests expect it to be. 

The tree of life was achieved by decorating a massive oil rig to appear as if it were a giant baobab tree. Baobab’s are known for their long life and for being sort of pillars within the african savannah. Keep in mind that Animal Kingdom was designed with specificity in mind. Nothing could exist there without great intent (and money) so design had to go beyond just simply a tree at the center. Using the baobab as the model created a very specific statement of intent. Then the intricate hand carvings forming the massive portraits of animals further showcase that. Guests can walk up to and even through the tree itself, experiencing the It’s Tough to Be a Bug show inside, or enjoying the various animal exhibits and walking paths that dip underneath the tree’s roots. These smaller animal exhibits are located throughout the park to provide the constant sense that humans have, and always will, exist in wild spaces. While we may delude ourselves into believing we have full control of our domains, we are still just members of a global population that includes much more than just our own individual, or even purely human, needs. 

If you walk north from Discovery Island, you will find yourself in the first of the Animal Kingdom’s continental lands, Africa. This land is themed to the fictional city of Harambe, set in an unspecified East African country (though more than likely located within the Democratic Republic of Congo). Harambe’s home country gained independence in 1961 and this year is displayed in many official buildings. Additionally, Harambe has only just recently established their own power grid and communications infrastructure. Electrical power lines are proudly displayed running from one building to another. Much of the main Harambe village features open air shops and food markets to take advantage of the breeze during the day and the cool air at night. These shops often feature local craftsmen that hand make beautiful gifts for the tourists that pass through. Additionally, the food market features delicious local favorites like sausage, ribs, and the much enjoyed Beebo juice drink. Local band Burudika often will play music in the streets as well. 

Close by is the Harambe Wildlife Reserve, an 800 square mile wildlife reserve that is Harambe’s crown jewel. Within the reserve are many different animals including elephants, rhinos, giraffes, cheetahs, lions, okapi, mandrills, hippos, crocodiles, just to name a few. While many people sought to exploit this natural resource in the past, with independence Harambe has worked hard to restore and protect the natural wildlife for future generations. Much of the town’s income is from tourists that visit on the safaris and with that money Harambe has slowly been building itself up as a model for how other locations around the world can protect their own natural resources. Additionally, Harambe also has a beautiful walking trail nearby called Gorilla Falls in which many wild gorillas often come to bathe, play, and raise their young.

The Africa section of Animal Kingdom is a perfect example of the multilayered design work that went into the creation of the park. Harambe depicts a very real inspiration that led to a space with very clear direction, history, and sense of being. Africa’s history of exploitation and colonization is unavoidable and so to create a space designed to replicate Africa is to also create a space designed to replicate Africa’s history. Harambe does not exist within a vacuum, neither within its own fictional setting nor it’s real world context as a purposely designed space. Along the land’s river border is the dutch walls, a cannon turret sits aiming outward to remind you of the dark past that this land once had at the hands of colonizers. The buildings show a clear difference in history of when they were built. It is obvious that some are far older and the difference in materials from a history of exploitation can clearly be seen. At the same time, the space shows a hope for the future as its denizens look ahead. There is a sense of optimism with the Kilimanjaro Safari attraction that shows how young nations can rise up from their colonial past and be models, unique in their own way. 

The Kilimanjaro Safari itself is uniquely built to create a sense of uninterrupted savannah. As you drive through it in free ranging vehicles, it appears that all the animals have total freedom to roam as they so choose. In truth, many of the barriers are designed to give the appearance of natural rock work while still having the animals be restricted. The design of the habitats is also created to encourage the animals to operate in certain ways. For example, the rock in the lion area is temperature controlled to always be perfect for lounging upon. Coincidentally, this means the lions will very often want to lounge in a very picturesque manner. Further, the animals do not live within the area they can be seen in on the attraction, but rather they’re free to visit during their day. This way, the animals are able to feel free to naturally graze and play as they normally are compelled to, while also going out in front of guests. They’re putting on just as much of a show as any other performers at Disney. The biggest element that allows the safari attraction to feel massive is simply because it is. In reality, the Kilimanjaro Safari is 110 acres, the largest footprint of any Disney attraction. With this massive amount of space it simulates multiple environments and easily provides ample room for all the animals within it, as well as the multiple trucks that travel through. 

It should be noted that the Africa section of the park, while it does feature legitimate cultural ambassadors that introduce their culture to countless amounts of guests, there is very much a sense of lumping an entire continent into one blob that is defined mostly by its wildlife. Further, it does very little to showcase how directly colonialism has directly affected the current state of much of Africa’s nations, instead choosing to chalk up much of the difficulties faced by African people to simple mismanagement of resources and cartoonish poacher villains. These issues are exacerbated by Africa’s lack of inclusion within EPCOT’s World Showcase, a different section of the greater Walt Disney World resort. Despite multiple attempts to include an African nation in World Showcase, there is still a sense of “Disney World features African culture, music, and cuisine right next to the gorillas”

Beyond Africa, is a small train station where guests can board a train to Rafiki’s Planet Watch. There, guests can see environmental conservation in action, and even live medical demonstrations of animal care by on site medical staff. While many write off this area of the park as a small petting zoo and educational photo opportunity, it is still an explicit statement of Animal Kingdom’s ecology focus and man’s relationship to nature.

To the east of the park lies Asia. This land takes place within the fictional country of Anandapur, an amalgamation of Tibet, Nepal, and India. Anandapur is the final rest stop on many travelers’ journey to the summit of the forbidden mountain, Mount Everest. At lower elevations, travelers and residents alike enjoy the local teas and indian curries as well as the wild monkeys and tigers upon the banks of nearby rivers. The local hostels are adorned with old backpacks that hang from the rafters. 

At the base of the mountain is a temple of the yeti, the mountain’s guardian. Prayer flags drift in the wind and through the near silent breeze, prayer bells softly ring. While visitors to the mountain may not believe, locals are certain in their belief of the invisible yeti that protects the mountain. He only appears when absolutely necessary. You venture forth through the Yeti museum, a strange attraction that collects the multitudes of old yeti art as well as photos and prints of the creature. While it doesn’t provide conclusive evidence, it makes a strong case for the legend being much bigger than just the one beast we imagine. Behind the museum lies the train station that will take you and your fellow adventurers to the base camp upon the mountain. As the train slowly ventures forth, things seem to go awry when you pull up to a set of destroyed rail track. The train reverses only to end up within a darkened cave. The shadow of a hulking monster passes over you. Your train accelerates forward through the mountain, weaving in and out of caves, and for one brief moment, seemingly face to face with the yeti himself, only to suddenly be whisked back down from the sacred mountain. Returning to the station you originally departed from, only you can decide for yourself what you really saw.

Like Africa, the Asia section of the park is built from the ground up to have a lasting sense of history. The country of Anandapur similarly features a history of colonialism turned ecotourism. Much of former British colonialism and exploitation of tea resources can be seen within Anandapur’s infrastructure. The train you board as part of the story of Expedition Everest has been repurposed from its original use of transporting tea leaves. All around the surrounding village of Serka Zong are advertisements for hostels and even hiking backpacks strewn about. There is certainly an element of a new form of exploitation of the land by tourists. Much of the fictional economy in Anandapur is based on zen seeking white tourists hoping to climb the world’s tallest mountain. While the story presents itself as one in which the days of exploitation have since passed, if you pay close enough attention there is a point being made comparing white tourism to colonial exploitation. 

To the south east of Asia is Dinoland U.S.A. This land features both the Dino Institute, a leading paleontology center, and Chester and Hester’s Dino-Rama. Upon first glance, the land is two competing areas. The Dino Institute, while featuring a thrilling time travel attraction, is themed to a serious paleontology research center in which legitimate academic and natural work is done. Next door, Dino-Rama is a cheap roadside attraction with scam carnival attractions and cartoonish dinosaurs with no actual basis in biology. These seemingly disparate themes make more sense when you consider the backstory of this area. 

As the story goes, the Dino Institute, ever in need of research funding, has rented out their parking lot to unscrupulous carnival barons and allowed them to profit off of “dino fever” that many remote areas in the american south west often cash in on. While the true story of this creative decision is that lower cost rides and attractions were added in an effort to lower the overall cost of the park, this clever writing has turned it into a criticism of a legitimate issue. Just like Asia and Africa’s critiques of capitalism being framed as the only way towards progress, Dinoland U.S.A. showcases how some fields must caricaturize themselves in an effort to be appealing enough to profit. Ecology is no stranger to this problem; it’s often lamented how “cute” animals are far easier to raise money with than other species that may not be as huggable but are no less critical to our world’s ecosystems. 

Finally, we arrive to the newest section of Animal Kingdom, Pandora: the World of Avatar. You arrive to Pandora at the Valley of Mo’Ara. Long ago, this land was exploited by human interests for the sake of precious metals deep in the earth. Now though, the land is governed by the indiginous Na’vi people. The valley is home to the Omaticaya clan, a group known for their verticality thanks to their rearing of mountain banshees, or ikran as they call them. The small part of the valley you explore on your visit is maintained in conjunction with the Omaticaya by Alpha Centauri Expeditions, an ecotourism company that facilitates educational tours that focus on not only ecological preservation, but also restoration. While much work has been done, it is a continuous effort to maintain the delicate ecosystems here on Pandora after the previous damage by the strip mining operations. 

If you walk through to the Flight of Passage, you’ll find yourself deep inside caves adorned with ancient paintings showing the history of the Omaticaya and their ikran. Massive paintings loom over you on the roof of these caves as you see long gone riders and their mounts. Continuing, you find yourself in an old mining facility that’s now overgrown with wildlife. Various plants and leaves and roots have begun to pop out of rusted cracks and crevices of shipping containers. Further inside, you arrive within the main hub of the avatar program. Like many before you, you will be linked with a matching avatar body and be able to ride upon an ikran led by an Omaticaya guide. As you near the link machinery, you see the active laboratories where scientists and researchers are studying native Pandora life, as well as monitoring the ecological efforts currently being implemented. 

In the next room you’re placed within the avatar link apparatus where you’ll undergo the process allowing you to link to your avatar. All is still as you sit in the cold blue metal machine until suddenly, you wake up, alive, in the body of your avatar. You’re already mounted and your ikran flies off wildly. Smaller fauna can sense your unease and almost taunt your little experience but just barely missing you as they fly by. Even the branches and vines that surround you within tree tunnels seems to want to hold you back. Still, your ikran presses on. Together, you rush past waterfalls and giant mushrooms and the tidal waves that regularly crash upon Pandora’s massive coast. Your ikran violently dodges all you come across until finally, it enters a darkened cave to rest. You feel the massive heaves between your legs as your ikran takes deep breaths to fill its lungs with the cool air. A single woodsprite, an atokirina’, drifts down before you. Soon, tens, hundreds more glow as they appear. What you thought was a small cave is now illuminated with blue and violet hues of bioluminescent flora and fauna. You are surrounded and fully immersed within Pandora. Your ikran rises up and glides out of the cave back into the daylight. Outside, the other riders greet you with excitement, even the once alien wildlife now flies with you in synch. Together, you all swirl through the air in harmony, perfectly connected. You pass over the direhorse riders herding below you, through the mist of crashing ocean waves, and finally rest on a cliff, high above the world. The last bits of warmth glow on your skin as the sun sets in the distance. And just like a dream that ends far too early, your eyes darken and you awaken back where your journey began. 

Back outside, now that the sun has set, the valley glows from the natural bioluminescence of the plants. What was originally dark green and brown foliage is now bluish purple. The distant sounds of large herbivores is now replaced with the quiet sounds of stalking nocturnal predators. You journey towards the nearby rock outcropping where a river lies. There, you board a small woven boat. 

Aboard the boat, you journey through the nighttime rainforest. Like outside, the foliage glows bright with life. All around you is the wildlife of Pandora. The nantang with its cubs, syaksyuk climb trees and jump from branch to branch. Nearby na’vi gather, walking with their pa’li towards the same place the river drifts you. You see the small shadow of kenten footprints on the pink leaves above you. You hear singing in the distance as you near the shaman of songs. Her words flow through the forest towards you. Soon, you come face to face with the shaman. Even sitting, she still looms over you. Looking directly into your eyes, she sings. After this moment, you pass and disembark and exit the cave. You stand at the center of the valley, glowing.

Pandora: The World of Avatar was not something the imagineers wanted to pursue for Animal Kingdom. Joe Rohde has made it clear that he was not interested in putting the story of an alien world in the park. Nevertheless, Disney executives insisted that Avatar go forward at Animal Kingdom. For a long time after the announcement, many were confused as to how the story could fit in a park about real life animals. Yet at the same time, the park wasn’t necessarily a stranger to stretching the definition of what animals could be within the park. Dinosaurs, for example, while very real, have never had a relationship with humanity before their extinction. Even the legendary at one of the park’s signature attractions, only exists within cryptozoology. And still, both of those are a very natural fit to the park. The key to fitting Avatar into Animal Kingdom was focusing on the film’s aspects of humanity to the natural world. 

Like with much of the other areas in the park, Pandora has a detailed backstory that supports an ecology message. Much of the details in the land show a very specific history. Satu’li Canteen, the main dining area, is a repurposed military barracks. That entire half of the land features many repurposed military structures. One particular light fixture shows rusted rebar and steel almost wilting with age, but a bright green stalk of plant has emerged out from the hollow inside and shows new life sprouting from the cold past. 

Still, there is a sense of potential sarcasm to the land. While the exploitation of the land by human colonists is certainly deplorable, there seems to be a sort of sinisterness to framing tourism as the solution to the land. One might question if the Na’vi would rather just bar all humans from ever visiting their land, and with that would come questions of how exactly the Alpha Centauri Expeditions’ agreement came about. Is this not another story of white saviours, just like the film, where the “good” white people have joyfully introduced the native population to how they can capitalize and profit off of their homeland, of which they were peacefully minding their own business? Problematic questions aside, when viewing the park as a whole, the story does seem to be a bit too simplistic, just too easy of a solution for solving the history of colonial exploitation. Whereas Asia and Africa’s stories have made very clear that they are only just beginning to come back from their colonial past, Pandora is presented as an idyllic harmony that instantly passes past any nuance and simply handwaves away all the potential problems. The na’vi are seemingly in on the joke. What to tourists is a life changing experience of finding connection and harmony with nature seems to be a means to an end, a fact of life in a colonial world. Dark thought it may be, there is a sort of humor to this. 

Lastly, there is the Animal Kingdom Lodge, the adjacent hotel that continues the experience of the park through the entirety of a guest’s stay. The massive hotel replicates a termite mound with sprawling corridors that open up to massive lobbies. These lobbies are adorned with pan-African artifacts on loan from museums and cultural centers. Additionally, cultural liaisons and wildlife experts are often available to speak with guests and show their heritage or inform on the care of animals on site. While at the park there is a “show” element that keeps interactions short, these cast members have time to truly interact with guests and connect. The artisans and musicians are on regular rotation and showcase their background in ways much deeper than a simple demonstration at the parks can. Further, the food at the resort showcases the diverse cuisine of the African continent. Sanaa focuses on the North African region with their signature bread service, often accompanied by a selection fo African cheeses. Boma offers hearty soups made from the gourds found in Central African cuisine. Jiko, considered one of the best restaurants on the Walt Disney World property, is fine dining throughout all of Africa’s regions, and for a time boasted the largest collection of African wine in North America. The hotel’s location at the north end of the Kilimanjaro Safari attraction allows for animals to freely walk towards guest areas and allows for sweeping views of the wildlife. At midday, the hotel’s viewing areas are lit with bright sunlight that contrasts the cool red rock inside. It is truly a beautiful space to behold.

Disney’s Animal Kingdom Lodge is nothing short of majestic. While at first glance it is seemingly a glorified zoo, the true breadth of the experience shows that it is much more. The task of creating a space that allows for animals to have full control of their treatment rather than guest satisfaction directed the park into something beyond simply viewing animals. Consistently, the park dives deep into nature and presents us with a deeply human experience, of connection with nature, connection with each other, and connection with ourselves. The park presents guests with various aspects of the animal world on how each species is adapted to its environment and social structure, and presents humans with the unifying ability to show empathy and connect with the life it finds before it.

[freehealthguider]

Flooding a Major Health Danger as Michael's Fury Continues

Flooding a Major Health Danger as Michael's Fury Continues

THURSDAY, Oct. 11, 2018 (HealthDay News) — Images of the destruction wrought by Hurricane Michael in the Florida Panhandle are gripping the nation. And with massive rainfall and 13-foot storm surges, flooding is a major danger as the storm tracks northward.

“Floodwater places virtually all people at risk for drowning, even for experienced swimmers,” warned Dr. Robert Glatter, an emergency physician at Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City. “Fast-moving water can be lethal, and even shallow-appearing water can be deadly for toddlers and small children.”

He stressed that trying to outrun the storm has its own dangers.

“It’s important to realize that vehicles do not guarantee sufficient protection from fast-moving floodwaters, as it’s possible to stall out or be swept away in fast-moving water,” Glatter said.

He added that the storm surge associated with a hurricane is particularly dangerous, especially if you live near the ocean, lakes or streams, which can rapidly overflow and lead to drowning.

One potentially lifesaving tip: “Never drive into a standing pool of water on a road after a hurricane, as the water may rise rapidly and trap you in your vehicle,” Glatter said.

Already, at least two people have died due to Michael — a man from Greensboro, Fla., was killed when a tree crashed onto his home, and a girl in Seminole County, Ga., died when debris hit her home, The New York Times reported. Winds from the category 4 storm have topped 150 miles per hour.

“It’s vital to respect this dangerous time, and make plans to stay abreast of news alerts and keep in touch with family,” Glatter said.

The aftermath of serious flooding brings other hazards, he said.

Flooded areas pose risks for fire hazards or electrical injury associated with downed power lines. “Never approach a downed power line, as the risk of being electrocuted always exists,” Glatter said. If you come upon one, contact the power company.

Floods may also increase the spread of waterborne diseases, including cholera, typhoid fever, hepatitis A, as well as leptospirosis.

“While most floods do not result in serious outbreaks of infectious disease or chemical toxicity, they can result in bacterial and viral infections involving the lung and GI tract in those who are exposed to contaminated floodwater,” Glatter explained.

Waterborne infection may occur after washing, drinking or bathing in contaminated water, or by eating infected food. It’s essential to boil all water for bathing, brushing your teeth or drinking after a flood, the ER doctor said. Bottled water is the safest bet.

“Use only bottled water until the water supply is declared safe,” Glatter said.

Hurricane Michael is tracking northward through the Carolinas, before it will make its way to the Atlantic Ocean.

For anyone who still has time to evacuate, Glatter offered this advice:

Have a family communications plan in case you get separated during the storm. Take your cellphone, and if it uses replaceable batteries, take extras.

Carry a one- to two-week supply of any prescription medications. (Diabetics should keep extra insulin on hand, as well as a ready supply of snacks in case their sugar level drops. Store insulin or any liquid antibiotics on ice or cold packs during power failures. Have a list of your doctors with their contact information.

Patients who use a CPAP machine for sleep apnea or COPD may need an alternative power source during the storm. This includes a CPAP battery pack or marine battery adapters in case of electrical outage.

Take bottled water (at least 1 gallon daily per person for three to seven days).

Pack enough nonperishable food for three to seven days.

Take a flashlight with extra batteries, road maps, basic tools (pliers, wrench, duct tape), cash and coins, sleeping bags.

Store important documents in a water-resistant container or plastic bag.

Pack a first aid kit with ibuprofen, acetaminophen, antacids, adhesive tape, Benadryl (for any allergic reactions), motion-sickness medicine, alcohol wipes, forceps and tweezers, instant cold packs, bandage scissors, sterile gauze, elastic wraps, antiseptic solution, adhesive bandages, triple antibiotic ointment, exam gloves, gauze sponges (4 inch-by-4 inch), butterfly tape, sterile saline, hydrogen peroxide, and thermometer with extra batteries.

For infants, have plenty of diapers and wipes available, as well as formula, powdered milk and extra sanitized bottles.

Take along an extra pair of contact lenses or eyeglasses with cleaner.

More information

Visit the American Red Cross for more on hurricane safety.

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[whatnext10]

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[whatnext10]

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