#should i buy a summer foundation in september

[theghostpinesmusic]

On Reading In Circles

So, I'm on sabbatical during the upcoming academic year. Technically speaking, this sabbatical runs from this coming September until September 2024. Accordingly, I'd originally planned to take this summer as a "normal" summer break, maybe spend a little of my free time formulating ideas (mostly while sitting in tents during rainstorms or taking afternoon hiking breaks perched on this or that high rock) and then dive into "properly" working on my sabbatical project starting in September. If you're a frequent reader of my word-dumps, though, you know that at least for the last few weeks, the wildfires, the smoke from the wildfires, the general weather, and now my own health have not really cooperated with this plan (the month before this one was AWESOME, though, it bears repeating). I have this fragile hope that September will be better for hiking, and that maybe I can take advantage of not having to teach in the fall to do some September/October/November backpacking trips, but that remains to be seen. In the meantime, I made a promise to myself that if I work now, during the time of year when I'm supposed to be taking a break, I can play later. We'll see how that pans out in the end.

What it means for now is that over the last two weeks I've dove (maybe we should change this to "diven"?) into a huge initial reading list of texts and essays relevant to the project as a way of getting my feet back under me as a researcher (the last time I really did serious research in the field was 2013) with the idea being that these texts will be the foundation that guides how I write over the next year and beyond.

Mostly by chance (though partially because I already own them and it's expensive to buy theory books), I've started by reading through a lot of the same books I read during my dissertation research, back in 2010-2012. In most cases, these are even the same literal books: I've found a ton of my old notes in the margins, brackets around relevant passages, complaints about the quality of coffee shop sandwiches, etc.

At first, honestly, this felt a bit silly to me. These books are not, generally speaking, short reads. They're extremely complex and time-consuming, and, in theory at least, I've already read them and internalized the core concepts (albeit a decade-plus ago): shouldn't I by reading new stuff?

The process, though, has actually been fascinating: many of my old notes are on concepts that I have significantly developed (and hopefully improved) my thinking on since the 2010s, if not exactly through new research, through conversations with my friends, colleagues, and students, and through just living my life (which tends to be filled with a significant amount of self-reflection, for better and worse). Lots of quotes I emphasized before now show symptoms of that sink-or-swim way you learn to read in grad school: plowing through 500-1000 pages of reading assignments a week necessarily forces you to speed-read, digging for quotable quotes instead of trying to (or being allowed to take the time to) understand the whole argument. It feels like I'm actually reading and understanding many of these books for the first time, in spite of my essentially being granted a Ph.D. for having read them "well" the first time.

And this brings me to the point of this latest of word-dumps, which only still requires an (incredibly brief) description of my current project as a setup.

So, in addition to some pedagogical/class development work, the main purpose of my proposed sabbatical is for me to have time to research and write a book proposal. What's the book about? Well, I'm not glad you asked! In (very very) short, the idea is to use the heuristic (nerd alert!) of summits and circumnavigations to explore how the humanities can contribute to the discourse around global warming. There are about a million topics that get caught up in this currently in my head, but essentially the idea is that summiting a mountain requires a series of epistemological assumptions about one's place in the world (experiences are linear, the point of life is progression and/or accomplishment, the natural world exists to be conquered and understood by man), as does circumnavigating a mountain (experiences are circular, the point of life is to learn through that circularity, things don't really massively change, but sustainability is possible, and natural world is a cycle or series of cycles that inescapably includes humans, etc.).

If you've read this far, you might see where I'm going with this.

If not, here goes: it popped into my head today, at the peak (get it?) of my existential crisis about whether or not I should be spending weeks rereading old books, that the circumnavigation metaphor applies here, too. That is, returning to texts after ten years can't be a waste of time and is, in fact, almost mandatory because of how much I've changed since then (since the last "circle," if you want to beat the horse to death). Of course there's more to learn. And skipping past these texts because I've been there once before would actually be against the basic spirit of the thing I'm reading them to be able to write (an argument for circularity and sustainability).

Whew. So, I'm sure that wasn't as fun for you as it was for me, but thanks for reading this far if you did. Expect more of these in the future as my brain slowly grows/dies from reading THE TOMES.

In the meantime, here's some music from today's reading session. If, by some weird chance, you're a fan of Outer Wilds, there might be some thematic overlaps here with what I was just writing about. Otherwise, it's just a nice song you can enjoy.

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 13

Catch up on Chapter 12 here

“Not true!” You scoff. “I missed you! And I didn’t get to see you on your birthday!” You return your voice to normal, taking your eyes off of the road to look at him real quick. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Van laughs. “Worst hangover I’ve had in years. Or maybe I’m just too old to handle ‘em now.”

“Could be,” You tease. “27, really getting up there now.”

or

You try to make Van’s (belated) birthday special for him.

Word count: ~11k

A/N: content warning for a little bit of under-negotiated edging and some negotiated bondage :)

Chapter Thirteen August 2019

Van sends you more snaps on his birthday than he probably has the entire time you two have had each other added on there.

“Ugh!” You sigh as you sit with Mary in your usual booth at the diner. You’ve got your phone held away from you, both of you leaned over the table as you open the third batch of snapchats from Van today. These ones include photos of the cake the boys had surprised him with, and a small stack of badly wrapped gifts they’ve presented him with. You pull the phone away from Mary when the interesting parts are over, when the snaps turn to clips of Van harassing the boys; Bondy laughing as he flips off the camera, Bob shying away as Van tries to shove the phone in his face. 

“I haven’t gotten him one single fucking gift,” You groan, lowering your head onto your folded arms.

“Sit up, Alexis is back,” Mary tells you, and you pull yourself into a sitting position with another sigh, as Alexis comes back to the booth with your food. You’re absolutely starving, but can’t find it in you to dig into your club sandwich in your sour mood.

“Oh, Jesus,” Mary sighs in exasperation, watching you pick at your french fries. “It can’t be that hard to think of something!”

While Mary speaks you finally take a bite of your sandwich. “It is!” You argue after you’ve swallowed it down. “He’s a millionaire! Anything he wants he just buys it for himself! What am I supposed to contribute?”

Mary narrows her eyes in thought as she chews on a bite of her veggie gyro. “Alright. What do you guys do when you’re together?”

“We fuck, we eat, smoke, watch Netflix, and sometimes hang out with his friends.” You tick each activity off one of your fingers.

“Okay. How about you just cook him something nice? You know, have a nice date but, like, at his house? I’m sure he’d like a home cooked meal after touring.”

It’s a good idea, but still you sigh. “I don’t know what he likes.” No matter what you cook, Van both eats and compliments it. You have a suspicion that everything you make actually sucks and he’s just too polite to say. “He literally eats everything. You should see those boys on tour. They’re maniacs over the catering.”

“Plus,” You continue, “There’s no way I could cook at Van’s house. It’s a fucking dump right now.”

Mary’s eyes widen as she sips her iced tea. “What about paying someone to come clean it? He’d probably love coming home to a clean house. Especially when he thinks he’s got to deal with it.”

That’s not a bad idea, actually. You don’t feel comfortable letting strangers into Van’s house without permission, but a new idea has bloomed in its place.

“I’ll clean it,” You tell Mary. “I don’t know how he’d feel about random people coming in when he’s not even in the country.”

“Okay, so that’s one gift.”

“I’ll clean the house and…” You gaze down at your food when the next idea works its way into your mind, “I’ll get him dinner from his favorite restaurant.”

“Yes!” Mary claps her hands together in excitement. “What are you gonna get him?”

You try to spit out the name of the French restaurant Van likes the lobster dinner from.

“No fucking way, you’ve been there?” Mary’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know that’s where he took you out!”

“I’ve been there twice, actually,” You admit sheepishly. “That’s where we went for Benji’s birthday.”

“You lucky bitch! Theo and I have tried so hard to get a table there for our anniversary and their waiting list for reservations is so long! I guess the rumors are true. They really do only give a fuck if you’re famous.”

“Weird, I’d never heard of them when Van took me there.”

Mary only shrugs, but you figure you already know why she’s heard of the place when you haven’t. It’s not obvious behind her down-to-earth personality and humor that made you adore her from your first meeting, but Mary comes from money. She’s even got a degree from Stanford to prove it. It’s in accounting (because those were the easiest classes for her), it’s never been used a day in her life, and was entirely paid for by her parents.

“When’s your anniversary?” You ask, ready to change the topic now that you’ve gotten two gifts under your belt. You’ve got a little under two weeks until Van will be back in town for a couple of days, and now you were feeling more confident that you could pull something together.

“The end of September, but they’re booked until next year,” Mary sighs.

\\

When you get out of the shower that night, there are three missed calls from Van. You don’t even bother to get dressed before calling him back, sitting on the edge of your bed wrapped in your towel, the ends of your hair dripping onto your comforter.

The phone rings until it’s almost gone to voicemail. At the last second Van accepts the call, and there’s some rustling before you decide to speak.

“Hi, birthday boy,” You giggle softly down the line. “How was your big day?”

“It’s been good, yeah. Good.” You’ve heard Van stumble over his words after drinks, but never slur like this.

“You sound like you’ve had a good day,” You laugh. 

“Had a class night,” Van agrees. “Fucking class.”

You’re still not used to communicating across a time difference. The mention of nighttime brings it back in your awareness. “Wait. What time is it for you?”

There’s some rustling noises while Van checks the screen, then the phone is pressed back to his ear. “Half four. Just got back to the hotel.”

“Jeez, Van! Why aren’t you sleeping already?”

“‘Cause I wanted to talk to you,” Van replies. “It’s not right.”

You’re beaming, charmed by this drunken Van. “What’s not right?”

Van scoffs. “That I don’t get to see my best mate on my birthday!”

“You spent the whole night with them, didn’t you?”

“The lads. Not you.”

The earnesty in his voice makes your heart squeeze. “That’s okay. I’m gonna see you soon, right?”

“Yeah. Really soon. Super soon.”

You smile to yourself. “Where are you?”

“In my room.”

You cackle out loud at that. “I know that. I meant the country!”

“Right. Um. Christ, I don’t fucking know. I forgot.”

“You’re so drunk,” You tut. You expect him to deny it, but listen to his distant laughter instead.

“I’m completely fucked,” He agrees. “Beyond pissed.”

“But you had fun? Was your cake good?”

“Loads of fun. Loads and loads of fun. I don’t remember how many pubs the lads dragged me to. As soon as one closed, bam, next one. It was great.” There’s some shuffling, then: “I forgot about the cake. Gonna have some right now, as a matter of fact.”

You hear the chaos of drunk Van serving himself a piece of cake.

“Wish you would’ve been here,” He says through a mouthful of dessert. “Woulda had so much fun.”

You don’t know which one of you he’s declaring would’ve had fun, but it seems he’s still not over the fact you two have spent the day apart. “I know,” You sigh, feeling a pang of disappointment for not the first time today. “I wish I would’ve been able to see you today, too.”

“Next year.” You hear the soft gulp of Van swallowing another bite down, and then his voice is much clearer. “Better request it off work now,” He teases. “You’ll never spend another first of August without me.”

“Okay,” You agree, only to mollify him. “You should probably get to bed. Text me tomorrow, okay?”

“If I’m alive,” Van chirps.

“You’ll be okay,” You assure him. “Drink lots of water.”

“Yeah.” Van’s voice is starting to grow quieter, rumbling like he’s close to falling asleep. “See you soon.”

“See you soon,” You promise. Your heart hurts at the fact you’re both sleeping alone, the distance between you two suddenly feeling overwhelming. “I miss you.”

Van yawns, and you have a feeling he didn’t catch your words. “Goodnight. I love you,” He slurs.

His words send a cold shot of adrenaline rushing through your veins, even if you know he doesn’t mean them. You almost end the call right there, but you don’t.

“I love you too,” You say instead. “Night.”

Even if Van’s declaration only comes from a place of drunken sleep-deprivation, it feels nice to have the opportunity to say it back. There’s something relieving about admitting it out loud, for the first time, even if this’ll be the only time. 

Van’s breathing is soft on the other end as you hang up.

\\

If giving Van’s neglected house some TLC was going to be the foundation of your gifts, you had no time to waste. His place was massive- not a job that could be tackled in one day- and during the week you had absolutely no desire to do anything after your workdays. You’d have to put some real work in on the weekends to make sure you pulled this off, which is why bright and early on Saturday morning you were pulled up to his gate, struggling with the 8 on the keypad.

You’d made a trip to the store last night to prepare your arsenal, and you struggled to lug it all inside. Unsure of what horrors you’d encounter, you’d bought different cleaning sprays for an assortment of surfaces, mildew, molds. You had boxes of trash bags, not sure whether Van was stocked with his own; and plenty of air freshener to try and chase away the stagnant smell that hit you as soon as you walked in. Then there were the tools; fancy antibacterial toilet brushes, fresh sponges and cleaning cloths. Lots and lots of paper towel. You even haul in a gallon of laundry detergent (and the accompanying softener, of course) and some detergent for the dishwasher. You knew that if you were going to be efficient, you’d need to eliminate time trying to understand where Van would store the things you might need. 

His living room is just as you two had left it the night he went to the hospital. There’s a lump of blankets overtaking half of the couch, and seven mugs of tea, three with leftover liquid that was now home to some fuzzy mold. The crewneck he had changed out of is rumpled on the floor, reeking of B.O. from his sweaty fever. The briefs nearby smell similar.

In the spot where there used to be a stunning monstera plant by the front door, there’s now a yellowed, withered corpse, surrounded by dead leaves that have fallen to the floor. You inspect its limp stem carefully before solemnly declaring it dead. You really had your work cut out for you. 

Your main thought as you turn your bluetooth speaker on and get your phone connected, prepared to blast the cleaning playlist you’ve carefully assembled, is that Van better fucking love this gift. 

\\

By the time you’re heading home, you feel satisfied with what you’ve gotten done. The kitchen is cleaned, the dishwasher rumbling as it sanitizes the mugs and dishes that had been left lying around. Your biggest obstacle had been locating the washer and dryer (which are nestled in a tiny room at the end of the living room hall), but now you could hear the sound of rushing water as the washer started on tonight’s load of laundry. You’d throw them in the dryer tomorrow morning, when you’d be back to tackle the half bathroom down the hall and start on the next level of the house. You carefully close all of the windows and lock the patio doors, which had helped air the place out today, before locking up the front door behind you.

There’s something domestic about cleaning Van’s house that keeps the project from being entirely unpleasant. You pick up little quirks of his in every room you explore: wrappers in the trashes reveal his favorite snack foods, the bathroom cupboards only store one chosen brand of toilet paper. His cereal cupboard is well-stocked but with only a small variety. His mailbox by the gate is overstuffed from his time away, and while you throw away any junk catalogues you note what companies he receives bills from. All of the important envelopes are addressed to his legal name, a small detail that amuses you endlessly. 

In the process, you also manage to get a few gifts out of it. You pick up a ficus during your weekly grocery shopping to replace the dead monstera plant by the door, and while passing the candle section you decide on impulse to buy him a candle for his bedroom. He had decided not to take one of his bags to Europe with him, and had instead left the suitcase of dirty laundry to stink up his entire room. You haven’t figured out his scent preferences, but you decide on something that smells like pine trees just because you keep picking it up to sniff it. It’s in these moments- casually grabbing some things at the store for him- where your mind wanders over the what-ifs. What if he was your boyfriend? What if you two lived together? What if he had someone around to make sure all the food in the fridge didn’t rot when he was away? What if you didn’t have to squeeze time with Van into your schedule, because your life would be entwined with his? You know most of the reason he doesn’t want a relationship is because he thinks it would make things complicated, but to you it feels like everything would be much simpler. 

You sigh sadly to yourself, place the three-wick candle carefully on the child seat so that the glass can’t be damaged in the cart with your other things, and continue shopping.

\\

When Tuesday finally comes, you’re bouncing with excitement as you leave the office early, preparing to pick up Van from the airport. He had tried his hardest to resist, dead set on letting you finish the workday while he grabs an Uber home, but there was no way you were gonna let that happen. You head home to change and pack your overnight bag to stay at his, grab the wrapped gifts you’d left on the kitchen table, and head over to Van’s, where you make sure everything is ready. 

You’d be stopping by the restaurant to pick up the carry out on the way back from the airport, so you carefully set the dining table in advance. You put out two plates, two wine glasses, and you’d even grabbed a package of tealights at the store. You set three of the little tins between your place settings, and stash the rest in his miscellaneous drawer. On the end of the dining table that wasn’t being used tonight, you display his wrapped gifts. The ficus has to rest on the floor, but you’d tied a nice silk bow around the plastic trunk. Was it all a bit cheesy and over the top? Probably. But with the way Van is quite the romantic, you think he’ll enjoy it. 

\\

You never get tired of the feeling that washes over you the first time you see Van. He looks dazed and exhausted fresh off of his flight, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his worn leather jacket slipping off of the other. As soon as he sees you he perks up, starting to walk at a faster pace as you approach him.

You reach out for a hug without a second thought, and Van smiles as you pull him in, happy to have him within reach. It doesn’t feel real the way his body is solid against yours. It feels like the dreams you’ve started to have on occasion, ones that leave a fog of disappointment lingering all day. 

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” You sigh when you pull away, because those words just aren’t enough anymore. 

Van smiles, but it’s a tired smile. Suddenly you worry he won’t have the energy for any festivities tonight. “Missed you,” He croaks.

He laces his fingers with yours, swinging your palms slightly as you two head to collect his baggage. You take one suitcase, he takes the other, and then you head out to the Range Rover.

“Are you hungry?” You ask nervously, once Van’s slumped into the front passenger seat. You’d been excited for tonight, but with the way Van’s energy is off your confidence that he’ll love what you have planned has instantly dissolved. 

“Fucking starving,” Van groans. “I’ve been living off of airplane peanuts all day.”

“You didn’t eat on the flight?”

“No,” Van adjusts his jacket on his shoulders. “Been sleeping. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t shit company tonight.”

You’re busy navigating the parking lot, but still reach one hand out blindly to nudge him playfully. “You’re never bad company!”

“Yeah, right,” Van rolls his eyes. You’re relieved to hear him start to shake off the sleep, sounding more like himself. “Bet you’re just glad you didn’t have to deal with me the last couple’a weeks.”

“Not true!” You scoff. “I missed you! And I didn’t get to see you on your birthday!” You return your voice to normal, taking your eyes off of the road to look at him real quick. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Van laughs. “Worst hangover I’ve had in years. Or maybe I’m just too old to handle ‘em now.”

“Could be,” You tease. “27, really getting up there now.”

“Oi. Shut up.” Van grumbles, but he’s not able to keep a straight face. He gazes out the window for a moment. “Why’re we taking this way home?”

“There’s an accident,” You lie. “Got caught in stop-and-go on my way here.”

Van accepts your reasoning, lifting his hips so he can pull his phone from his back pocket. You watch him flick through different notifications, staying blissfully unaware of your route until fifteen minutes later when you’re pulling up to the restaurant. 

As your car slows, Van comes back to reality. “What’s up?” He asks, looking around. 

You avoid an actual explanation as you put the car in park and start to unbuckle. “Stay here, I have to run in real quick.”

The carryout is already prepared, a large bag with ‘McCann’ written on it sitting on a surface behind the hostess booth. You pass over your card, trying not to cringe at the price, and in return you’re passed the bag of food and a cardboard carrier with two bottles of Van’s favorite wine. It was all a bit pricey, sure, but worth it when you see Van’s eyes widen through the tinted windows of the Rover when he sees what you’re up to. 

“Are you fucking kidding?” His voice has risen a few octaves in his typical amused/disbelieving tone. “What have you done this for?”

You set the food on the back bench before climbing into the driver’s seat. “You said you were hungry!” You laugh. “I hope you’re in the mood for lobster.”

Van is grinning so wide that his dimple is making an appearance. “Why the fuck did you do this?”

“For your birthday!” You exclaim, starting the final stretch of the drive to Van’s place.

“My birthday was two weeks ago!”

“A week and a half,” You correct him. “And I didn’t get to see you, so it doesn’t count. So today is technically your birthday all over again.”

“Ridiculous,” Van shakes his head. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t wanna celebrate with me,” You shoot him a glare. “Mr. ‘you’ll never spend a first of August without me again’.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of Van. “Did I say that?”

You nod. “You did.”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t remember a word of that phone call.”

“Well, you were very drunk,” You shrug. “Drunker than I’ve ever heard you.”

“Why don’t we ever go out to pubs? Do you get pissed with Mary?”

“I used to go clubbing with Mary a lot,” You tell him as you turn off of the main road, the hill of his neighborhood visible in the distance. “Never really been a bar person, but we could go out one weekend.”

Van makes a displeased noise in the back of this throat. “Not here, in all these hipster cafes. You gotta come to London, we can do a proper pub crawl.”

“I don’t have a passport,” You admit sheepishly, as if that’s the only reason you can’t leave the country on Van’s whim.

“Christ. Americans never do! Mental.”

“Yet again,” You start, leaning out of the window slightly to punch the gate code in, “You hate America so much but you keep coming back!” 

“The lobster is good here,” Van deadpans as you pull into the driveway.

Van grapples with both of his suitcases while you’re busy trying to unlock the front door with the food in your hands. You hold the door to let him in first, watching him carefully. He barges his way to the middle of the room before he pauses, realizing what he’s walked into. 

“What is this?” He’s got a confused smile, looking over at you by the door. He’s gaping at the clean living room, and the surprise on the dining table.

“Surprise,” You giggle nervously, letting him take it all in.

“You tidied up the living room?” Van asks, carefully looking around. The mantle is dusted, the rug is vacuumed, and the place finally smells like someone actually lives here. 

“I tidied up everywhere, actually,” You admit. “The bathrooms, the bedrooms, the kitchen. All clean.”

“Holy shit. You shouldn’t have. Really.” He’s clearly stunned by the gesture, carefully removing his shoes and even going so far as to set them on the mat by the door. “You really did not have to do this, love.”

At the nickname, you know you’ve impressed him. You glow with pride as you bring the bag of food to the table, making a quick detour to the kitchen to grab some utensils to transfer the food out of the containers and onto the plates.

“Do you wanna open your presents before or after we eat?” You ask, carefully spooning the seasoned butter that was melted at the bottom of Van’s container onto his food. 

“After,” Van says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he starts to seat himself. You grab one of the bottles of wine, heading into the kitchen to find the corkscrew.

“I love the tree,” Van says when you return, nodding to the ficus standing proudly with his bow at the head of the table. “Thank you.”

“Your plant died,” You inform him, pointing to the empty space by the front door where the monstera used to sit. “It feels empty without it.”

Van frowns. “I told Bob not to give me anything that needed watering. I’m shit at remembering.” He shrugs. “He had a good half a year.”

“Bob got you it?”

Van nods. “For Christmas. It was one of his, to be fair. Got a green thumb. Great at pawning off his plant spawns to us lads.” He smiles affectionately, and you can’t help but smile as well. They were such a strange group of friends. 

You don’t sit down after you’ve poured wine for you two. “Do you have a lighter?” You’d forgotten to grab one in the kitchen for a tealights. 

Van procures one from the front pocket of his button up without question, and you light the candles before you sit down. You notice that Van hasn’t started eating without you. 

“Very posh,” He smiles at your setup, raising his glass of wine. “Cheers.”

“Cheers to 27,” You add, clinking your glass with his. 

There’s not much conversation as you two eat. Van is ravenous, and is done with his meal before you. You’re only halfway through your chicken parmesan, but you decide to save the other half for later. It wouldn’t do you any good to get all sluggish and bloated before the night’s even begun. 

You start to clear the table, Van standing to help automatically.

“Don’t help!” You scold him. “This is a gift!”

“You’ve already cleaned the place once!” Van insists, holding his dirty plate out of your reach when you attempt to take it from him. “That’s more than enough!”

He helps you rinse the dishes, marveling at how you put them directly in the dishwasher. It’s clearly not a habit he’s developed. 

You two keep the wine glasses out, not finished drinking for the night. Then Van opens his gifts while you radiate nervous energy the entire time.

He’s not someone who gets worked up over gifts, but his quiet gratitude is special in it’s own way. He loves the wooden rolling tray you’ve gotten him to replace the dented up tin one he carries around, and he laughs at the pack of THC water you’d gotten from your clients. He places the ficus by the front door, refusing to untie the bow around its trunk. When he’s done he pulls you in for a big hug.

“I know it’s not much…” You start nervously, but Van shakes his head.

“Thank you,” He cuts you off, rocking your bodies side to side. When his arms finally loosen you tilt your chin up to look at him and he leans down to give you a kiss.

“Thank you.” He repeats, giving your arms a small squeeze before releasing you.

“What do you wanna do?” You ask, now that dinner and gifts are over.

Van shrugs. He’s gazing out of the patio doors at the Hollywood cityscape. “Do you wanna go for a dip in the hot tub?”

That’s about the last thing you expected him to say. In all the times you’ve been over you have never seen Van use his pool. But you wouldn’t be the one to say no to the birthday boy himself. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“I’m all cramped up from sleeping on an airplane seat,” He explains. “Nothing sounds as good as those jets.”

He heads upstairs to get changed, but you’ve got nothing to change into. You’ve got your matching set of lace bra and underwear on, the same set you’d worn on your first date with Van. In any regular case you’d be strictly opposed to swimming in them, but you did have a change of clothes in your overnight bag, and you’re curious about how Van will react.

When Van comes down in his swim trunks, he realizes you’re still in your clothes. “Oh, fuck. Do you have something to wear?”

You can see he’s ready to retract his request, so you offer him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, let’s go!”

He clearly doesn’t understand what you’re up to, but leads you into the kitchen and out into the backyard. It’s the one area of the house that stays perfectly maintained no matter how long he’s gone; he’s got a landscaping company that comes over regularly to trim the grass and clean the pool. 

At the bottom of the cement steps that descend from the kitchen, Van makes a right around some lounge chairs. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he tugs back a heavy set of curtains, revealing a small cabana built right into the house.

“Are you joking?” You gape in disbelief as you check it out. There’s a seating area, a television mounted on the wall, and a door to a small bathroom in the corner. “What the fuck is this, oh my God?”

Van shakes his head, popping into the bathroom before coming back with two swim towels in hand. He passes one to you. “It’s my patio!”

“A patio is outside,” You correct him, “This is a cabana with a fucking television that’s attached to your house.”

Van gestures to the pool past the open curtains. “It’s got curtains. It’s outside.” The way he’s smiling reveals he knows exactly how luxurious it is. 

The pool thermostat is installed in one of the walls, and Van pokes at it before you hear the rumble of the hot tub coming to life, the jets starting to bubble. 

Van heads straight for the hot tub, but you start to get undressed while he’s not paying attention. You kick off the sandals you’d worn over here, peel off your shirt and shorts, and dig around in your shorts pockets for a hair tie. 

A bra and underwear set has the same coverage as a bikini, but there’s something about openly walking across the backyard in your underwear that feels forbidden. Of course, nobody’s able to see you considering Van’s privacy bamboo that surrounds the house, but the sun is still out and you still feel exposed as you approach Van.

He does a double take when he finally settles onto the stone seat that encircles the small spa. You use the metal railings to start stepping in, pretending you don’t notice him staring.

“I knew you didn’t have anything to wear!”

You smile, giving a small shrug like this is nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m wearing something, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but now your knickers are soaked.”

You frown as you sit next to him, the hot water saturating the padded cups of your bra. “Ew. Don’t say knickers.”

He snorts, sinking deeper into the water until the ends of his hair are wet, the jet foaming directly on the back of his neck. “Fuck. This feels so good.”

The legs of his trunks have floated up around his thighs, and in the clean water your eyes can linger over him while he’s got his eyes closed, enjoying his makeshift massage. 

“So how was tour?” You ask after there’s been some silence. 

“Incredible,” Van tells you, sitting back up. His back is in front of the jet now, and he arches into it. “Europe fucking loves us. The crowds go wild every night. We only play Glasgow in Scotland, everyone loves that. It’s such a good time.”

He tells you some stories about the festivals they’ve done, some ridiculous questions interviewers have asked. You relax into the warm water as you listen to his voice, falling into a content daze. You suddenly feel like nothing in the world could feel as good as relaxing in a hot tub with Van after a couple of glasses of wine. 

“How’s work been?” Van asks when he’s finished filling you in. You can feel your muscles start to tense, your mind start to remember the numerous frustrations that have been chipping away at your sanity lately.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” You sigh, shaking your head as if that’ll clear your thoughts. “I just wanna forget about it and have a nice night with you.”

“Fair enough.” Van shrugs. “Are you?”

You’re resting your neck against the cement edge of the tub, your body floating weightlessly in the water as you gaze up at the light-polluted sky that is rapidly becoming darker as the day comes to a close. “Am I what?”

“Having a nice night?”

“Um, yeah,” You answer like it’s a stupid question. “We should use your hot tub more often. This thing is magic.” You imagine this is what babies in the womb must feel like, completely doused in warmth and without a care in the world.

“We should. You can keep a suit over here.”

You laugh at that, sitting up and looking over at him. You shiver as the tops of your shoulders are exposed to the air. “Why do you keep mentioning my suit? Do you not like what I’m wearing?”

“That’s the opposite of how I feel, actually. Just figured an actual suit would be more comfortable.”

You smile at his admission. “Oh, so you don’t actually hate this set?”

The water has carried one of the straps of your bra off of your shoulder, and you watch Van’s eyes dart to your bare skin. 

“Course I don’t. Christ.”

Now it feels like you’ve got him where you want him. You ease up onto your knees, Van’s eyes dragging over the sopping lace as gravity pulls the cups lower, revealing more skin. You fight the urge to tug your strap up as you move closer to Van, who licks his lips.

“Okay.” Your voice is quiet, your body dangerously close to Van’s. You can feel the steam radiating off of his flushed body. “I was worried for a second.”

Van can tell you’re teasing, and he breaks out in a grin. “Shut the fuck up,” He laughs right in your face before his hands are on your hips, yanking you off balance and onto his lap. There’s the rush of water splashing around your bodies and a sickening twist in your stomach as you lose your balance. 

The first thing you comprehend is Van’s lips against your neck, hungrily mouthing at your damp skin. Your knees have found their way to either side of his thighs, your hands gripping the edge of the tub for dear life. As soon as you feel steady again you stop clutching at the cement, gripping Van’s dripping shoulders. You let your hips sink down, your thigh muscles loose and relaxed enough to open wider without any discomfort. 

You can’t feel if he’s hard through the water, but the way he groans is enough of a hint. Every noise you two make bounces off of the water, magnifying the sound.

You wrap your legs around his waist, his hands leaving your sides in order to cup your ass through the lace. You feel his fingers pinch at the fabric, rubbing it between his fingertips before he nestles his head into the crook of your neck, biting down where your neck meets your shoulder. 

“Van!” You gasp in shock. His body is rocking so you grab the ledge to steady yourself. There’d always been an unspoken rule not to leave marks. At his name Van pulls away with a guilty grin.

“Too much?” He asks, carefully watching your reaction. 

“No,” You assure him breathlessly. Your hand comes up to stroke his hair, wetting his roots in the process. You were aching for him to do it again. “But warn a girl, alright?” You breathe.

Van’s grin widens. “Yeah, alright,” He promises before his arms tighten around you, his mouth latching onto the same spot. This time the sting of his teeth makes you moan, your legs tightening around his waist, trying to press him as tight against you as humanly possible. 

You close your eyes, your nose buried in his hair. You breathe in the scent of chlorine as you let him take the lead for this brief moment. It’s something you want to savor before you go upstairs, where the dynamics will be different.

When he pulls away he presses his lips to the top of your shoulder before you start to untangle yourself from him. You watch his expression cloud in confusion.

“You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet,” You tell him, starting for the steps. Out of the water, gravity feels too strong, the air icy cold compared to the water. You regret leaving, but there’s more in store. 

The spot on your neck that Van had focused on throbs in residual pain as you grab your towel off of one of the lounge chairs, trying to dry off as best as you can. Van turns the jets in the tub off, closing the curtains to shut down the cabana.

“Want your clothes?” He asks, and you realize your shoes and outfit are slung over the couch.

“I’ll grab ‘em tomorrow,” You decide. You wouldn’t need them anymore tonight, so there was no need to waste precious time on a distraction.

The two of you struggle up the stairs to Van’s room, your muscles feeling like jelly. 

You proudly open the door to present the room for him. Fresh sheets, washed comforter, fluffed pillows, and an empty hamper. Van laughs in disbelief.

“I got you this, too,” You tell him, holding your damp towel around your body with your elbows as you pick the pine candle off of his dresser. You hadn’t wrapped this gift, instead wanting to make it a nice touch for tonight. “I dunno if you like pine-scented things, but I thought it smelled good.”

“Love pine,” Van nods, coming up behind you. He opens his hands for you to pass the candle over, and you do. He sniffs at the wax before nodding his approval, passing it back to you. 

“Hand me a lighter,” You request, and Van tosses you one before he starts to strip down, keeping the room neat by placing his wet towel and trunks in the hamper.

You struggle to get all three of the wicks lit, but you’re pleased at the warm glow the candle emits. 

Van is already tugging the blankets down, ruining your hard work in the name of climbing into bed naked. You peel away your soaked bra and underwear, dropping them in the hamper with Van’s things.

“So,” Your heart starts racing now, but you try to remain nonchalant as you stride over to Van’s closet, sliding the door aside. “Do you have a robe anywhere?”

“Yeah, you need one? I have one hanging in the bathroom.”

You didn’t actually need one, but you nod, grabbing your overnight bag from the floor. “I’ll be right back.”

You feel like you’re about to start hyperventilating as you lock the door behind you. Van’s plush robe is dangling from the hook on the back of the door. Duh. You were the one who had washed it and hung it there, after all. The nerves were clearly getting to your head. 

Your hair looks like a frizzy birds nest, every section a varying degree of damp. You extract your hair tie from the mess, and borrow Van’s brush to do some damage control. Once you’ve parted your hair correctly and smoothed it down, you look a million times better. 

The only thing left to do was get dressed. You grope around in your bag until you feel the silky cloth of the lingerie. You’d purchased it just for this occasion, a sheer scrap of black fabric that Mary had helped you choose. The website called it a ‘babydoll set’, a lace bra with a silky transparent fabric draping off of the band. The airy cloth fell just below your ass, but it didn’t really matter how low it covered because you could blatantly see through it. There was a slit directly down the front, giving Van the ability to easily push the extra clothing aside in case he needed to access your skin. It had come with a matching thong but you don’t bother to put that on. You figure the bra is enough. 

You unravel the tie of Van’s robe, your fingers shaking. You take a steadying breath before finally twisting the doorknob, turning the bathroom lights off as you step back into the bedroom. 

“Oh, Christ.” Van groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. “You want me dead.”

You head to the bedroom door first, sliding the dimmer all the way down. The room is still lit from the flickering candle and the lights of the city shining through the open window, but without the overhead lighting everything feels much more relaxed.

You approach Van then, sitting down on the edge of the mattress next to his body. While you’d been adjusting the lights he’d propped himself up into a sitting position, and as soon as you sit down his hand comes to rest against the back of your neck.

You don’t speak. You want to poke around for some reassurance that he likes what he sees, some validation that Mary had been right when she’d pressured you into adding this finishing touch. But instead you let him cradle the back of your neck while he takes you in, his neck craning so he can give you a full onceover before meeting your eyes again. 

“I’m convinced you’re trying to give me a heart attack,” He jokes, before hauling you in by the back of your neck for a kiss. “What is it with you and lace?”

“This is, like, all of the lace I own.” Per usual, you’ve got to brush off the compliment even if it’s the confidence boost you needed.

“And I got to see it all tonight? I’m one lucky lad.”

He looks annoyingly smug, the face of a boy who knows he’s about to get laid tonight. You kiss him again (and again) just so that you don’t have to look at him anymore.

You climb onto the bed completely, crawling into Van’s lap. Van startles when the robe tie crinkled in your hand brushes his ribs. 

“What’s that?” He asks, peering down at your hand for a better look. You extend your fingers, the length of cloth unfurling, tumbling onto Van’s lap. “Is that the string on my robe?”

“Yeah,” You confirm. You want to explain, but your mouth suddenly goes dry, waiting for his reaction.

“What’ve you got that for?” He cocks his head in confusion, looking between the rope and your wide eyes.

You gulp. “I was thinking, y’know- if you were into it- we could try something kind of like the last time?”

Van’s expression is blank for a few moments, no doubt trying to recall your last time having sex. You watch his expression change as soon as he’s remembered. 

“Are you gonna tie me up? Is that what this is?”

His voice has gone up in pitch, like he doesn’t really believe this is actually happening. You nod slowly.

“I mean, if you want. Just your wrists. Unless you have cuffs?” You ask the last part hesitantly, predicting Van’s answer. He confirms your suspicions when he shakes his head. “That’s what I thought.”

“You know how to tie me up with that?” Van asks, nodding at your palm. 

“Yeah. Hold on.” You shuffle off of his body, laying the tie out flat on the mattress next to Van. It’s a trick you’d learned from Mary years ago, and was easy enough to Google and relearn. With minimal fuss you’ve tied a handcuff knot, holding it up for Van. 

“No shit. You’re full of surprises tonight,” Van marvels. 

“So… do you wanna try it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Van grins. “I’ve already told you, you can do whatever you want to me. Consider me at your mercy, always. How do ya want me?”

You giggle, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “Off of the bed,” You instruct him. 

“How kinky are we goin’ tonight?” Van asks as he clamors off of the mattress. “Am I supposed to get down on my knees?”

He’s teasing, beaming down at you from where he’s standing. You get off of the mattress as well, trying to nudge it downwards.

“I need some space between the headboard and the mattress,” You explain, out of breath with the effort of trying to move it on your own. Van’s headboard was solid wood, not wrought iron like yours. You’d need to secure his wrists to one of the support beams holding the mattress up. 

“You really thought this out, huh?” Van gets on the other side of the bed, helps you nudge the mattress a few inches down.

You don’t answer him, distracted with rearranging his pillows nicely before patting them. “Come lay down.”

Van obliges. As he’s holding his wrists out so that you can loop your handcuff knot around them, he nods to his bedside table.

“Don’t forget to grab a condom,” He reminds you.

You pause where you’re tightening the cloth against his skin. “About that.”

“We could skip it,” You suggest, trying to keep your voice light. “I mean, I know you’re clean. I’m on the pill. And I’m clean, but I don’t have, like, the records on hand, so, if-”

“Skip it.” Van cuts you off. “Deffo.”

The robe fabric is nice and snug against his skin, and you’re pleased when Van tests the restraint and it holds perfectly. Suddenly, everything is feeling very official. 

You need your phone flash light in order to loop the extra length around the support slat you’d moved the mattress to reveal. When you’re done tying that knot you’re out of breath.

“Good?” You ask Van when you stand up. He’s got his elbows bent, his wrists comfortably resting right above his head, and when he strains to move them there’s not anywhere for them to go.

You get back on his lap, but the air in the room has changed. The anticipation is stifling. You’ve never felt so unsure and so certain at the same time. You desperately hoped everything went off without a hitch.

You could do anything to Van with the way he’s restrained, but for some reason it feels right to get a hand around him, starting to jerk him off slowly. It’s weird to think you’ve never given him a hand job before, as simple the act is. You only really get your hands on him for foreplay purposes, but thankfully Van doesn’t seem to mind, arching his back into the sensation. Then you remember his balls, and your other hand slides between his thighs, brushing against the soft skin of them. You feel them tighten reflexively away from your fingertips, Van whining when you cup them. 

You could be minimal with Van’s foreplay, let your eagerness get the best of you, but you don’t. You keep your hand slow and steady, your rhythm perfectly even, and feel him swell in the palm of your hand, his hips wiggling to chase more friction. 

You snap out of your trance when you suddenly feel Van’s thighs tremble underneath you, a small dash of precome blurting from the head of his dick when your hand brings his foreskin down. You hadn’t realized how close he was getting, too engrossed in touching him. You bring your hands away from his dick but let his balls still rest in your palm, giving them some gentle attention while you let Van back away from the edge.

Once Van has cooled down, that’s usually your cue to get started. His breathing has relaxed slightly, not so harsh and loud, and he’s not shaking anymore. But without really thinking about it you wrap your palm around him for a second time. His stomach tightens in surprise, but he doesn’t protest, so you decide to experiment with starting your slow, even tugs again. 

This time you push your luck, still jerking him off even as you feel the warm drops of precome drip onto your fingers. You wait until he’s progressed past the trembling, until you feel his thighs tighten in anticipation of his orgasm before you release him, his dick coming to rest against his belly. While he’s trying to catch his breath you release his balls, letting them hang heavy between his legs in favor of having another hand free. He groans at the loss of contact, but you’re surprised at how quiet he’s been. You rub your hands up and down his thighs, accidentally rubbing his own precome over his skin. You wait until you feel his muscles unclench, until he relaxes into the mattress again with a sigh before you start up yet again.

There’s a strange thrill at what you’re doing, a dopamine rush like you’re playing the lottery. Van is clearly coming undone, hissing through his teeth at every slight touch, twitching and tensing helplessly beneath you. This time when you withdraw your hand you’re afraid you’ve misjudged him, because he tries to buck his hips up against your weight, his dick throbbing, and you’re positive he’s about to come all over his stomach even without your touch. When he doesn’t there’s a strange rush of pride that consumes you, only adding to the adrenaline rush.

Van’s been a good sport, but when you trace the vein on the underside of his dick with the tip of your finger, giddy with the way he startles, he stops staying quiet.

“Holy shit,” He gasps, and you can see his biceps flexing against his handcuffs. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” He chants, his eyes squeezing shut so tight you’re sure he sees stars when he blinks them open again.

“Too much?” You’d assumed Van was having a good time, but your heart sinks when you realize that he had no sort of safeword, that maybe you were getting a little too power hungry. 

“You’re driving me fucking mad,” Van groans, slamming the back of his head against his pillow. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You’ve stopped messing with him in case that’s what he’s getting at, absentmindedly tucking your fingertips under one of his knees, petting the thin skin back there. 

“I would like to fuck you some time this year,” Van snorts, his voice laden with frustration.

You keep caressing the back of his knee. “So… stop?”

Van lifts his head enough to shoot you a weak glare. “You can do whatever you want. Just wondering how long a lad’s supposed to fucking hold off.”

It takes one more go to rid Van of his pesky stubbornness. He’s reduced to a flushed, sweating heap on top of the sheets, and although he doesn’t tap out you wouldn’t feel comfortable edging him any longer. 

His body jerks as you rub up and down his sides, trying to ease him into the next thing. He clearly thinks you’re getting ready to play games again, unable to settle down. 

“I’m done, I’m done,” You find yourself whispering, his body instantly starting to relax in relief. “Are you good? Still want me to fuck you?”

Van cracks a smile at that, although he doesn’t look like he’s entirely with you. “You better,” He croaks. “Don’t let that be for nothing.”

“Still want to skip the condom?” You decide to double check for good measure. It had all been fun and games until now, when you feel an increasing sense of duty to make sure Van’s taken care of. “Do you want your hands free?”

“You’re acting like you broke me,” Van chuckles. “Yes to skipping. Leave me be and get on with it.”

You offer his cheek a reassuring pat before brushing the sweaty hair away from his eyes, tucking it behind his ear as you’ve so often seen him do. You lean down for a kiss before sitting back up, positioning yourself over him. 

The absence of the condom is strange when you hold the base of his dick, and you jump when you start to position his head between your legs. He’s warm and throbbing with anticipation, and you can feel every pulse of his heart beat against your opening, your stomach fluttering as your body prepares to make room for him. 

“Oh my God,” You gasp as you start to lower down. Condoms had a tendency to make things a bit dry, to make the first few thrusts a bit tricky, but you’d forgotten how much simpler sex was without one. Van slides in without the slightest hold up, easily working his way deep even as you feel yourself tighten, your body instinctively trying to draw him in deeper. Once seated you force yourself to draw in a few shaky breaths, mentally willing yourself to relax around him.

As you’re lifting yourself back up Van moans, a vulnerable noise that has you clutching at his ribs.

“Oh, Van,” You whimper, aware that you’re losing control of the situation. But it’s been years since you’ve had unprotected sex, and that was when neither of you had any idea what you were doing, and this is a million times better, and Van is watching you with wide, blue eyes as you struggle to fuck him. “This is so good. Fuck, Van, it’s so good.”

He’s watching you in awe. “I know,” He nods, too consumed in you to fight his restraints, his wrists resting limply. 

It’s evident that neither of you are going to be able to hold on; your time apart, the hot tub makeout, fantasy turned reality and the lack of any barrier between your bodies has made tonight come to a rapid boiling point. Your hands scramble against his skin as you try to keep your balance against the shocks of pleasure that twist through your stomach, each one feeling like an orgasm that doesn’t quite make it to climax. With each exhale you’re making what you’d consider the most unattractive noises possible, crying out in desperation when each shock doesn’t make it all the way, your own body keeping you on edge the same way you’d done to Van. 

“I’m gonna fucking blow,” Van breathes after you have to pause to catch your breath against the feeling in your belly. “If you don’t want me inside get me the fuck out.”

“You’re fine,” You assure him, steadying yourself for another thrust. This time you support all of your weight on the palm pressed into Van’s chest, your other hand slipping between your legs so your fingers have access to your clit. When you meet Van’s gaze he’s gaping at you, mouth ajar.

“What?” You ask as you start quick, tight circles that combine perfectly with the fullness of Van. 

Van shakes his head. “You’re incredible,” He sighs, melting back against his pillows.

Your orgasm blooms hot and heavy between your legs, the pressure of your fingertips becoming unbearable, your legs collapsing under the weight of anticipation. You scream Van’s name embarrassingly loud, desperately wishing you had a pillow to muffle yourself. 

His own orgasm is unmistakable when it arrives only moments after yours. You have a flash of panic when you feel the warm gush of Van coming directly inside of you before you relax, remembering that it was intentional. This orgasm lasts noticeably longer than his usual ones, and with each pulse of his dick inside of you you feel impossibly fuller. When he’s done, his face smoothing out as he finally blinks up at you, you’re distracted by the syrupy heat between your legs, terrified for him to pull out.

“Don’t pull out yet,” You plead, your arms shaking as they continue to support you. 

Van gives you a lopsided grin. “Couldn’t if I wanted to.” He tugs at his tied wrists for emphasis. 

At this you can’t help but laugh. “Right.” It takes a strenuous amount of core strength to lift both of your hands, picking away at the handcuff knot until Van could slide his wrists out. His palms immediately come down to hold your hips in place, his skin warm against the wispy fabric of your lingerie. 

“I’ve got to take a shower,” You explain, your body shivering against his. You can feel Van shivering, too, the intensity of everything putting your bodies into overdrive. 

“I’ll take one with you.”

You cringe as you finally lift yourself off of him. Although things feel normal for a moment, by the time you’re standing next to the bed on shaky legs you can feel the trickle of Van’s come sliding down one of your thighs. There’s nothing to do but helplessly allow gravity to do it’s thing while Van leads you into the en suite, getting the hot water running in the shower.

As soon as your bra is a silk puddle on the floor and you’ve both stepped in, Van closes the glass door behind you before standing directly above the drain, pissing right into it.

“Are you peeing?” You ask incredulously.

Van twists his neck, grinning over his shoulder as he finishes. He gives himself two firm shakes, the shower water cascading down his shoulders and rinsing him off. “Yeah. You don’t piss in the shower?”

“I mean, yeah,” You admit, shifting your weight uncomfortably. You actually needed to pee right now, but there’s absolutely no way you’ll do it in front of Van. “When there’s not an audience.”

Van just shrugs, using his fingers to work the warm water through his hair. He reaches out for the bottle of shampoo he keeps on the small shower ledge, but before he can pop the lid up you wrap your own hand around it.

“Lemme do it,” You say quietly, not meeting his eyes as you take the bottle into your own hands, pouring an ice-blue dollop into the palm of your hand. 

Van doesn’t protest, instead stepping out of the stream of water so that you can warm yourself underneath it instead. He turns so that his back is facing you and you reach up, starting to work the shampoo into a foam over his scalp. He’s always felt so much taller than you, but his head isn’t too far out of reach, and you realize you two are closer in height than you’d thought. 

Standing in the small glass square space of Van’s shower, the events that just happened in the bedroom feel surreal. Usually, you two snap right out of your bedroom mentality, moving on to the next part of your day easily. But something about tonight lingers over you, and as you wash Van’s hair you get the feeling he’s on the same page. Everything still feels tender and vulnerable, your bodies still shivering even in the steam, and the protective urge to make sure Van’s comfortable and safe still hasn’t faded. You’re careful to use the side of your hand to smooth any suds away from his forehead, keeping his eyes shampoo free, and when you’re satisfied that his hair is clean you lean forward, planting a kiss on his shoulderblade. He switches places with you silently, rinsing himself off as you gather some stray streams of water into the palm of your hand, flushing between your thighs out as best as you can. 

“Want me to suds you up?”

You hadn’t planned on washing your hair, but considering you’d gotten it damp with chlorine in the hot tub you might as well. “Yeah.”

You shift so that you’re in front of him, your back to him. Van squeezes some shampoo into his hands, and suddenly his palms are smoothing over your head. His hands trail down the back of your neck in long, even strokes as he makes sure he distributes the shampoo all the way from your roots to the very end of each strand.

At first you’re gazing out of the shower walls at the enormous marble countertops housing the his-and-hers sinks, but once Van’s done smoothing his hands over you and starts to dig his fingertips in, really scrubbing at your scalp, your eyes lull closed. You hadn’t expected him to be so thorough, rolling your head back to lean into his fingers as he massaged every inch of your head, the foam of the shampoo running down your back. 

“Lean forward,” Van grumbles, gently tipping your head forward again. “You’re messing me up.”

You do as you’re told, disappointed when the washing finally comes to an end and Van withdraws his hands from your hair, stepping out of the water so you can have a turn to rinse. 

When you’re both finished you get to see Van’s reaction to the bathroom closet brimming with freshly washed towels. He doesn’t seem to understand the extent to which you’ve cleaned, and you suspect he’ll be pleasantly surprised for weeks to come when he sees all the work you’ve put into the guest bedrooms, not to mention what you’ve done with his favorite sunbathing patio. You swipe the towel over your skin, wiping away the excess droplets before wrapping it around your hair. You reach for your overnight bag again, this time to grab your Las Vegas shirt. You pick your lingerie up from the floor and slip it back into your bag, mentally congratulating it on a job well done. 

When you’re done tugging on a fresh pair of underwear (cotton, since itchy lace was no longer needed) and removing your contacts, you come back into the bedroom to see Van’s pushed the mattress back in place and remade the bed, his robe tie crumpled in the center of his comforter. He’s got a fresh pair of boxers on, and shakes his box of cigarettes in his hand as soon as you step out. 

“Let’s smoke.” He nods toward the giant glass window that stretches across the front wall of his room. There’s a narrow balcony on the other side, bordered by a sleek glass railing. You’re confused about how to step outside, but Van easily slips his fingers against the edge of the window, which slides open to expose the bedroom to the outdoor air. 

The balcony is unfurnished, Van plopping himself down in the corner, his back against the house. He’s brought the ash tray from his bedside table out, and you sit down next to him, stretching your legs out in front of you as Van doles out cigarettes to you both. 

“I didn’t even realize that window was a door,” You mumble before inhaling as Van holds the lighter flame to the end of your cigarette. Once it’s lit he does his own, peering out at the city twinkling beyond the railing.

“Don’t really bother to come out here,” He shrugs. “Rather just go out on the patio.”

“So why are we out here tonight?” You ask, looking down between your bodies at the ash tray while you tap your cigarette into it.

“Needed some fresh air. Get my head on straight.”

He punctuates his sentence with a long drag of his cigarette. You let the silence drag on, your body feeling heavier as the adrenaline from the sex starts to wear off.

“Was it good?” You finally decide to ask. You don’t know if it’s the same for Van, but the whole handcuff thing feels like the elephant in the room. For all intents and purposes it seemed Van had enjoyed himself, but now you’ve got the creeping anxiety that the reality might not be as appetizing for him as the porn made it seem. 

“The sex?” Van asks, looking over at you. When you nod, he hooks his thumb over his shoulder, grinning as he gestures to the bedroom. “Are we talking about the same thing? Because that was clearly brilliant.”

You roll your eyes at his teasing, your arm coming to rest over his shoulders. You give his body a playful shake. “You know what I’m talking about. Would you do it again? That… whole thing?”

It’s Van’s turn to roll his eyes before exhaling a warm burst of smoke right into your face. “Christ, I hope we give that a go again. You weren’t fucking kidding about celebrating my birthday. You were absolutely mental in there!” He’s beaming right at you, nudging you with his shoulder. “I’ve never seen you act like that! With the lingerie and everything! What came over you?” 

He’s clearly having a blast teasing you, so now it’s your turn to smoke him out. It only pleases him more to know he’s embarrassed you, a blush blooming over your cheeks as you remember how it felt to be completely in control of Van. You lift your arm from his shoulders to ruffle his hair, and he snuffs his cigarette butt out, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“This is a daft question, since the deed’s been done and all…” You can feel his voice vibrating against your skin. “But you’re not fucking anyone else, right?”

You can’t see his expression while he asks, the only thing visible in your peripheral vision the part of his hair as his cheek stays pressed on your shoulder. As you ash your own cigarette out you plant a quick kiss in his hair. It’s more romantic than you would allow yourself on a regular day, but tonight wasn’t a regular night. “Nope. Just you.”

Van lifts his head from your shoulder. “You really got the shit end of the stick. Sorry, love.”

“Shit end of the stick?”

“Well, yeah! You’re in there in lace tyin’ me up, and all I’ve got to offer is some shit missionary.” 

“I like missionary,” You frown. “And you’re forgetting about the head.”

Van frowns. “You think it’s good?”

You shrug, looking away. “Best I’ve ever had.”

Van knows from your previous conversations with him that’s not a lie, so he doesn’t argue. You watch his eyelashes as he blinks, and it looks like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“You tired?” You ask, unwinding your arm where it’s snaked around him so that you can lift yourself off of the ground. 

He yawns, nodding. He takes your hands and you help hoist him up until he’s standing over you. 

Once inside, you both immediately climb into Van’s bed, the sheets still smelling like the fabric softener you’d used on them. 

Van doesn’t even go on his phone, too exhausted from today’s travels to fight his exhaustion. The lights are clicked off, and Van’s back is to you, his usual sleeping position.

You should roll over too, like you always do, but for some reason you nestle yourself against his back, throwing an arm over his side so that you’re spooning him. 

“What’re you doin’?” He grumbles, clearly almost knocked out after only five-ish minutes of silence. 

“Spooning you,” You say, as if that was any explanation at all, and kiss his hair again. You let your face linger by his scalp for a moment longer, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, before resting your head against your pillow. The skin of his stomach is soft against your fingertips, and the feeling of his body shifting rhythmically with his breathing immediately has your eyelids drooping.

You just loved him so, so, so much. And even if he didn’t love you back, you hoped he realized how much you cared for him. Because you realize now it’s more than you’ve ever cared about anyone else. 

\\

[pkanefashionplacementblog]

Start the enterpirse placement January 2021

Written on the Sunday 7th February 2020  

Hello world,

On the 4th January 2021 I start my 1-year work placement. Before I explain where I am just now on placement, I should problem get you up to speed. So before getting appected onto the work placement, I done a lot of work for the placement. IT all start in the begin/middle of the pandemic in June 2020, (My thought- oh got can pandemic end now want to go to the gym and wear clothing not get me wrong am happy not to see anyone just hidden in my PJ eating food and watching gossip girl lol) my disability advisors put me in contact with the enterprise team to find out more about what the placement had to offer and what was involved in the placement year.  I got told the placement year was about build the foundation of a business. The person I was spoken to say I could start researching some of my business idea now. the person gives me some link to video and worksheets about the business model canvas and customer work sheet to start my research off. So, I started researching and building the business model canvas, I then start to do design development of bomber jacket.  And exploring what design for bomber jacket was going to be on trend. Fast forward to September 2020. I got offer to work with a company called First to gain a level one in understanding enterprise, from this qualification I learned a lot about what think I need to start researching and thinking about when starting up a business it also give me a business mind set   on the way I look at thing. Fast forward to December I fill out my application form and got accepted on the enterprise team.( My though on the day I got told I got accepted-OMG  I got into the enterprise placement am be on excited , am like a little excited child a candy store  get all the chocolate bars , OMG my greatest biggest  dream about to come true. If this is me at the age on 22-year-oldimagination my life at the age 30 year I could have a small warehouse by then.)

January, I start my placement. I started to research my marketing strategy and find out what the best way to market my bomber jacket collection and what platforms am going to start selling on   I decided I was going to sell on Shopify and Amazon European marketplace to reach more customers. My market strategy came a light hard to research as most website say use social media and in my head am like I dislike my social media, but I can around to the idea on use social media as I found out I can gain customers from Instagram’s. my other marketing strategy was using SEO Marketing, using key words people use to search up for buy a bomber jacket key word (mean trend words people use the find the product).  My last marketing strategy was using google ads to bring in traffic to website to gain customers and sales.   I also meet the market advisors to help me with branding and why I could market my brand I found this really helpful as it gives me thing to think and research more off.   I then start dive in and research all about Shopify and how to set it up and what Shopify has to offer, I did find this challenging researching. As I did not know where to start and what I should research the most of I start with the basic the outline of Shopify then I diven in deeper. Researching payment and shipping and VAT was very confusing.  But I just keep researching and took break on research a section to easy my mind.  I now have most part research done for Shopify. I also finished design my collection and order a product example. Mostly am have with the product sample and , the quality good and the fabric is a soft cotton , the fit of the jacket it prefect and , they way the manufacture printed my design is amazon . the jacket is a light fabric and prefect to keep the cold of  it prefect for spring , summer and early autumn, however am a bit scared my future customers might not like the jacket because the fabric is a bit light, but I have feeling my product is going to do good in Europe because of the warm weather, but I can’t stop but worry about my first collection or if I will get any customers or sale I guesses it   because  my brand is like my baby , (My thought -  I really do hope I get customers and sale so I can keep my dream alive and keep living in a fantasy word because to be honest I don’t really want to life in the real word because everyone just get depressed, I am boy at hart not a man ,I have wanted this since I was 14 year old or maybe younger not too sure on it but I use to  dress my dog up, lol  this law of attraction to manifest your goal is work , I wonder , I can manifest the pandemic away ) I am  just about to start researching amazon marketplace . Overall, I think I have do so well so far and work very productively as well as learning new thing about set up business and how to market thing.  

Check pkanefashion.co.uk Instagram for little up date here a link  to my brand instagram  https://www.instagram.com/pkanefashion.co.uk/

                                                             pkane sign off  

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Season 1, Episode 1

For the longest time I’ve been wanting to write a series of posts about the small details of Skam that haven’t been widely talked about. All the key dialogue has been analyzed to death, but there’s still pieces that a lot of people have missed or are confused about. Some of these things are because of Culture, things that are obvious to a Norwegian audience isn’t always obvious to an international audience. Some of the things are blink-and-you-miss-it moments, they flash by, and you only see it if you are really paying attention. Some of the things are subtext, that which is hidden in the dialogue, and not explicitly said. But you can figure it out because of how the characters are saying it, or because of what the characters aren’t saying. Culture: The series starts in September 2015. The school year starts in August, which means that all the characters have been at their new school for about a month. High-school is a clean break from elementary school, and most of the other students will be people you don’t know, since you choose schools by what you want to study, and not by where you live. Some students at school will be ones that went to the same elementary school as you. Eva, Jonas, Isak, Sara, and Ingrid all went to the same elementary school together.

Blink and you miss it: It’s Chris’ laughter that pulls Eva’s attention to the girls walking, because Chris and Vilde have apparently made friends with Ingrid and Sara. This also shows that Ingrid and Sara have been making new friends, while Eva isn’t. Culture: Grades are on a scale from 1 to 6, where 1 means fail, 2 that you barely passed, and 3 that you passed, but should do better. 4 means you did good, 5 means you did really good, and 6 that you aced it. The plus and minus modifiers are unofficial comments from your teacher, and 5+ basically means “Keep this up and you’ll get a 6.” Cinematography: Eva feels alone, and the scene’s ending shot establishes this visually. Even though she’s in the schoolyard, surrounded by people, she’s all by herself. Blink and you miss it: Eva’s paper is clearly marked 3+, but she told Jonas and Isak she got a 4-. Blink and you miss it: Ingrid and Sara’s fake lashes. The photo caption simply says “Lashes ftw”. Subtext: In the dialogue with Isak, we learn that he knows Ingrid and Sara from earlier, and knows what happened between Eva and Ingrid.

Culture: The poster says: “First revue party of the year. Friday September 25th. Buy tickets here.” The Revue™ is a big thing at many Norwegian high schools. It’s an extra-curricular activity that results in a theater production that usually premieres in January, which means you have about four months to produce it. A revue is a multi-act variety show featuring comedy sketches, song, and dance, usually with some sort of unifying theme, and always referencing current events and zeitgeist. At Nissen, the revue typically engages 150 students out of the 700 total each year. Different groups in the revue are responsible for different aspects, the students at the table are part of the party group, who organizes parties, advertises them, and sells tickets, all with the purpose of having fun and raising money for the production. Culture: Students at high schools are organized by year, programme, and class. Your class is the ~25 students that you will spend the majority of your time with, since you are all in the same year, studying the same programme, taking the same subjects. Ingrid and Sara are in 1STA. 1: First year. ST: Studiespesialisering, “College prep”, A: If there are many students in the same year and the same programme, you split them into several classes and simply label them A, B, C, etc. The next year, Ingrid and Sara’s class will be called 2STA, and their final year 3STA. Culture: The revue needs you! Since students leave school after graduation, the revue needs to recruit new students each year to do all the work and keep the tradition going. Argentina and Igor are presumably second-year or third-year students who participated last year, and are now recruiting first-year students, using the time-honored tactic of peer pressure. The revue lays the foundation to your social life! You don’t want to go around being a nobody, do you? Subtext: Eva doesn’t have opinions of her own, which is why she is just repeating what Argentina said verbatim to Jonas. Subtext: I can bring a friend and you can bring a friend is a normal trade in normal circumstances, but here it’s a problem, because Eva doesn’t have any friends any longer, which Jonas seems to either have temporarily forgotten, or he’s just an ass. Culture: The autumn break is one of the five standard school breaks in Norway, together with Christmas break, winter break, Easter break, and summer break. It’s typically one week long.

Blink and you miss it: The notification that causes Eva to pull up Instagram on her phone is that her mom, Anne-Marit, liked one of her posts. Blink and you miss it: Photos of Ingrid, Sara, and Eva, being best friends, sometime in the past. Culture: This is Eva’s secret stash of alcohol, two small bottles of white wine. Drinking age is 18, Eva is 16, which means she had to have someone else buy these for her, and she’s stashed them under her bed because she doesn’t want her mom to find out and take them. Culture: The revue party is being held at a real bar somewhere in Oslo, that has been reserved for this private event. Some students at the party will be 18 and allowed to buy alcohol at the bar, but most students won’t be. This is why pre-parties are such a thing, because it’s the only and/or cheapest way to be drunk at the actual party. Eva didn’t go to the pre-party that the stage group hosted, which is why she is pre-warming alone, by drinking both bottles of wine. Eva’s behaviour is seen as completely normal in Norway, no-one would consider her an alcoholic. Subtext: Eva has no opinions of her own, which is why she’s removing the eyeliner that Ingrid said made her look like a slut. Subtext: We’ve seen Vilde with Ingrid and Sara, both at school, and in Instagram photos. When Eva and Ingrid are at the bar, some girl comes up to Ingrid and says that Vilde snapped. So this moment is when Vilde was thrown out of the Pepsi Max russ bus. Culture: Bus groups also need a lot of money to finance their bus, and one common way is to buy items in bulk and re-sell to friends, family, neighbours, and other suckers. Everyone knows it’s a bad deal compared to just buying the items at a store, but you do it anyway to support the kids and their buses. Subtext: Toilet paper worth 40.000kr is way more than a single person can use or sell in a reasonable time, you need an entire bus group to pull it off, which is why Vilde is so upset, because she is now financially screwed.

[rivkahstudies]

do you have any advice for a high school senior who wants to make the most of their last year of high school? asking for a friend :)

hi darling! I think the things I remember most from my senior year (though it was only two years ago that it started) can be summarized in, “crazy busy, crazy stressful, but at times, crazy fun.” Here’s to making the most of it, and maintaining health while you do so!

This is going to be combination masterpost and advice post, because I’ve accumulated a lot on this subject and I have a loooot to say. 

Also this is heavily based off of the assumption you’re pursuing higher education, but some of these things still apply/can be tweaked.

table of contents:

i. academics

ii. social life

iii. personal health

i. 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓼

a. grades

They’re important for your future if your plan is to go to college or academy, but they’re not the whole world. (see social life and personal health)

I’m not a big fan of the “3-to-1 rule” or other such things that tell you “study for this amount of time no matter what” because it’s important for you to understand what comes naturally to you and what you need further clarification on. Some classes are going to take up less of your time than others.

The best you can do on a given day isn’t necessarily 100%. Sometimes your best that day is 90%, 80%, 60%. “try your best” isn’t “your best ever” so don’t push yourself for 100s every time for the expense of categories ii and iii.

A lot of people (at least in places like where I went to high school) who are hung up on the stress of competition and the need to be The Best™ are going to ask you for grades. It’s going to be everywhere. Assignment grades, test grades, SATs, ACTs, (if you’re not in the US, the equivalents of your state, regional, or national standardized tests), entrance exams, et cetera, et cetera. I know it’s tempting to fall into the anxiety of whether you measure up, but here’s a quick tip: even if you think you did well/above average, you can keep it private. It infuriated my classmates when I wouldn’t share, because I was comfortable with how I competed with myself and didn’t care what my peers thought of my scores. 

When you’re someone as dedicated to studying as I am, you might get a lot of “oh, you got that grade because you’re you” (the underlying implication being that it’s natural or the work is easy for you, which was not the case for me) or “ha! I got higher than (name)! I measure up!” This is a lot of their own biases and insecurity talking and the best way not to be affected is not to buy into it. Again, this is based on my own experience.

 I really cannot emphasize extra credit enough because some of my teachers threw it around like candy and some of them barely drizzled a little in at intervals, but either way it really saved me when it came to rounding my grades up.

It never hurts to have a grade tracker if you’re concerned, you don’t get graded by total points accumulation/have a weighted system, and/or don’t have an easy way to access your grades online throughout the year.

find your study strategy/ies for each class and stick to it/them. It won’t necessarily be the same. I’m a primarily visual learner, and it really, really helps for most things, but I still need rote memorization for subjects with a lot of vocabulary, like medicine or languages.

further resources

studying without notes by @fuckstudy . 

prioritizing that crazy to do list (the abcde method) by @eintsein

a comphrensive guide to anki (flashcards online) by @studyingstudent

a stash of tiny study tips by @acalmstudiousfirecracker

and much much more on my #studyref tag.

b. extracurriculars

These I think matter (though I’m biased) more than grades, because they’re what shape you and your experience. Most of the students at my university had grades like mine, but it’s the places I frequented and the people to whom I devoted my time that formed my sense of self. I have so many skills, anecdotes, and ideas that I’ve gained from my extracurricular work.

If you have any you’ve stuck with since early in high school and you still like, keep ‘em. Quality over quantity. Show jobs or universities you can be dedicated and disciplined, and have stamina to see projects to the end. (I was in 7 and held leadership positions in 4 and it was probably part of the reason why I spent all of senior year on three hours sleep… besides my IB classes of course.)

If you’re not pursuing college immediately or at all (or even if you are), participate in ones that pull you out of your comfort zone and teach you something new.

ii. 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮

Treat this category as you would anything else in your schedule–requiring time and being a significant priority. Not always at the very top, but still demanding its own attention.

See friends outside of school, for however long or short a period, at least once every week to two weeks. This can include extracurricular time if you’re pressed.

Schedule time with your family (especially if their lives are also cluttered and hectic) do something dynamic, and also something separate that’s relaxing. One week your family time might be reading in the same room and having gentle conversation or a family dinner; the next might be going out to the movies or taking a hike together. It can be easy to feel taken for granted or to take family for granted.

By the way, this includes “chosen” family if you’re not on great terms with some/all of them. I have experience with this too.

Get. Out. Of. The. House. This plays into “personal health” too! You need a change in rhythm/routine and exposure to the outside. Especially in your winter season. 

I’m one of those people who has to have things scheduled way in advance, so family/curfew/etc permitting, do something a little bit spontaneous, say with only a few hours or a couple days notice. It will make you feel more alive if you’re in a stressful slump.

Communication is really important, especially if you’re stressed. Don’t be afraid to tell people “I am sensitive/hyperreactive to X because Y is putting me on edge right now” or “this triggers X insecurity because I’m anxious about Y.” This goes doubly if you’re struggling with mental illness. Talk to someone you trust. (See “personal health.”)

Don’t give in to peer pressure if you’re spent the time you need with friends and have to excuse yourself for other responsibilities. Balance!

No is equally as important to respected as Yes, no matter what the case.

Respect boundaries but invite people to challenge their comfort zone at their space.

Don’t be broken up if a romantic relationship doesn’t last. It’s senior year. Everything’s changing. Let it.

Also, please don’t be like me and let your summer/your school year be eaten up with relationship drama. I thankfully ended a difficult relationship early (late September) so it wasn’t a huge issue, but I watched people close to me struggle with while also battling the stress of the year.

iii. 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱

mentally

If you’re struggling with mental illness, be aware of your own limits and pace yourself.

Sometimes we feel dull because we need to break routine/stimulate ourselves in a new way. You should have a structure/routine, but it should be flexible enough for you to adapt to changes and listen to what your mind and body are telling you.

The path to self-love must first begin with self-acceptance. If you struggle with self-image or self-esteem issues, you can’t build positivity off a foundation of negativity. You must first level it to neutrality.

Perform check-ups with yourself. This may be in the form of meditation, a diary, therapy, etc. None of these things are a “last resort” but rather a healthy part of building good mental habits.

physically

Exercise! You don’t have to be a star athlete to bring about the benefits. Even a 15 minute jog, 30 minute walk/hike, or 10 minutes of stretching can give you benefits.

On that note! Take! Frequent! Breaks! And please, please google stretches for certain body parts like hands if you do repetitive motion like drawing or writing for a long period of time! You don’t want to push yourself!

Listen to your body and don’t ignore pain, hunger, nausea, fatigue, etc. Respond patiently and with what’s appropriate.

Don’t forget about diet. It’s easy when you’re busy to reach for the quick and nutritionally poor snacks/meals, but it’s really important to set aside time to cook/meal plan or even just throw together a quick snack tray of fruits/crackers/cheeses/etc. It doesn’t have to be instragrammable but you should have a balanced diet that factors in your specific needs, if you have any restrictions, etc.

Change yo pillow case frequently kids, it does wonders for acne.

I cannot stress enough! To! Stay! Hydrated! My goal is eventually eight glasses a day but my minimum is 4-5. I try to have one every meal, especially in college.

Bedtime is important! But more than that, wake up time is important. If you’re trying to adjust your schedule and can only keep one consistent, choose the time you wake up. Eventually your body will naturally become fatigued for the bedtime to match it. It’s how I turned my sleep schedule from 12:00 AM to 8:00 into 9:30 PM to 5:30 AM over the course of one winter break! 

If you’re a morning person, you’re a morning person. If you’re a night owl, you’re a night owl. There’s research now to prove that forcing yourself into a rhythm too extreme for your tendencies can make you feel awful either way.

At the end of the day, you’ve got one goal and one goal only: to look back on this year and be proud of what you’ve achieved and how you’ve grown. You shape your future and choose what matters most in your life!

If there’s anything else you think I’ve missed or you’d like me to cover more in depth/link more posts to, please ask me! I’d be happy to clarify/continue this series! I want to make sure you’re completely satisfied.

[caitlinclark]

Today she’s one of the icons of women’s football. But when Alexia Putellas started playing when she was 7 years old, things were not like they are now. Not even close.

The girls who are currently looking to be soccer players pay attention to this player born in Mollet del Vallès in 1994, they want to score goals with the same boots that she -Nike has sponsored her since she was 19- and ask for the new Barça shirt with her name on it. Although they have not yet reached the peak or full equality, future generations will look back and remember brave women like Alexia who broke the taboos and stereotypes and opened a path full of bushes. On September 7th, the women’s league (Liga Iberdrola) began with more excitement than ever. Barça - Real Madrid helps. The white club has bought a club that has just hit Primera, CD Tacón, but will not officially change their name until next summer. Alexia Putellas scored the goal that opened the lead (9-1) at 8 minutes. She's not a scorer, but she does score quite often. She’s only 25 years old, but she’s played at the highest level since she was 16. Since she was 18 she’s played with the senior Spanish team, who played the World Cup a few months ago. She has the right combination of veteran and youth to continue to mark the era of the outbreak of female football.

Do you have the feeling that you are living the revolution and the outbreak of women’s football?

Yes, and so much, and I like to live it. I started playing very small and I know the difficulties we had. Now it's changing, and fortunately I am still young (25 years old) and I can dedicate myself 100%. Now I can say with all the letters that I am a soccer player, something that did not happen before.

You are from Mollet del Vallès, but when your mother said that you were going to join a football team, so that you would stop playing at the playground and get bruises all over your legs, you went to CE Sabadell . There was no club closer that had a team for girls?

I think there was nothing closer, then. Fortunately, almost every town has female teams. But also, in the first team of Sabadell a friend of the family played, and told us that there was a team of girls there. And I went there, but in that team the girls were 10 years old, and I was only 7! I was very small, and at the beginning it really hard, although I had a good time. I did not have the strength and when I kicked the ball, which were those former Mikasa, I did not get off the ground, and I was angry because the others could and I couldn’t.

Did the Women’s League need Real Madrid?

This question was asked last year and I think that I did not explain myself well, when responding. The Women League needs clubs that want to be there, that is, if up until this point Madrid had not been there and the League has grown, then it did not. But I was interpreted that I did not want Real Madrid to enter the League, and I did not mean that. Now they’ve taken the step of joining, I am sure they will make a serious commitment to the title, and that will be more competition that will make us all better.

What day, or what happened, that made you think "things are changing," for women’s football?

I could not tell you a specific moment, but every year things have happened that have helped. For example, in the year that I arrived at Barça, we won the League and Cup, we won the League in the old San Mamés, in front of 30,000 people. This was already a "careful, that you are playing against 30,000 people and you are playing to win the League." You could also think that in the north, women's football was different, but the following year we won again the League and the club made us come out on the street with the first team that had won the triplet, with the streets full. All these things have meant that in the end the club is where it is.

What did reaching the Champions League final mean?

Reaching the Champions League final, nothing special. Since a few years ago, the demand for Barça women is maximum.

Do you still hear the phrase that "women’s football is not football or feminine" or is it already buried definitively?

I do not know if it is buried completely, there are always people who are harder to understand or evolve. We went from the stage of giving us visibility, and we have two years of consolidation. I think that there is no one that still says, or thinks, "you are a girl and you can not play soccer".

And this has coincided with the rise of the 8-M movement.

Everything is related. Those feminist movements that had long since been silenced have finally been placed where they should be.

Has women’s football started to grow and become big when it started to stop comparing and complaining about the treatment of women’s football, as Catalan journalist and coach Natalia Arroyo says?

Yes, I think so, but it was also a point of claim to lay a foundation. We did not demanded that we wanted to be football players, we demanded that we needed the means to be one. Now the obstacles we had to face ourselves have disappeared, and girls who want to be football players, it will largely depend on them, that they can become one.

What little things do you notice that when you started the First Division you weren’t a professional and now you are one?

Before I had to take the clothes to play and train to home to wash it for the next game, or we had to take the water to drink the workouts, for example. Now, luckily, we only arrive, we train as well as we know and we only have to worry about winning the game on Sunday.

I will make David Broncano, if you let me. How much do you make?

Mmmm ... I now live well, I can live just to play football and I can help my family a bit, but my mother can not stop working and we can’t spend everything we want, because that's not the case.

With your salary are you forced to study to have a job when football is over, then?

I started studying ADE (Business Administration and Management), but every month I have 10 days of concentration with the Spanish team, and also the travelling to play the Champions League. Therefore, I could only go to class at the university two of the four weeks of the month and I was distressed and having a hard time. I left it and I know that at any moment I could resume it, but I won’t lie to you, in the short term I'm not consider it.

In other words, you don’t make enough money not to having to work again once you retire, if you invest well the money you earn, as do men players, but at the same time you have schedules and a high level requirement that make it difficult to combine with the studies to prepare for the future.

I have teammates who have managed to take care of the hard careers, medicine or architecture, but because of my conditions and my way of living football I can not combine it. Yes, I'm saving a bit because when I finish football I can live for a while, and I have ideas in mind ...

It is true that we always ask the women players if you study a career to make a living after football, and it is not always necessary, you can set up a company, for example ...

Exactly. When I find the moment I'll put it.

Do you agree with Frank de Boer - who played for Ajax and Barça, and current coach of Atlanta United of the USA - who this summer said that football players must charge what they deserve but they can not charge just like men because, for example, the men's final was seen by 500 million people and the women’s only 100 million? He said this from the news that the Dutch Federation wanted to equalize the salaries of men and women to go to the football team.

In that I have it clear. Everyone has to get paid based on what they generate, surely, but in places like National Teams, everyone should get paid an equal salary, because the demand is the same. And from there, if a male or female football player generates more money so that people want to see one and not another, then they can get a bigger part of the cake. I am a player of the Spanish football team and we do not get paid the same as the men. Related to that, Panini's CEO said a few days ago saying that they would not make the women's League collection because people did not buy those from the Women's World Cup. Agreed, it is a private company that can do what it wants, but to clarify, to get the women's World Cup’s sticker collection, if you wanted to buy chromium, you only had one kiosk in all Barcelona, ​​when you have one in every corner for the Men's League. For me that is makeup, because you do not really believe in it, and if you do not believe it, do not do it. Therefore, we return to the phrase "men’s football generates more", yes, but you must read the small print, too.

Do you envy the United States or Sweden and the concept of women’s football they have?

Yes. They’re 50 years ahead of us, and not just football. We were born here and we have to do it as well as we can.

Does women’s football need more Megan Rapinoe (captain of the US team)? What does she have?

Players with personality are needed, and there are, but to clarify, she is American and four times world champion. Rapinoe was already well known in the USA, and has a gift, a gift to play and a gift to speak. The most important thing is that she believes what she says and has very firm values. And she knows that when she speaks she will have many microphones in front because she is a very good player.

You played against her this World Cup in France in the round of 16, and she scored both goals for the victory. How is it up close?

They are the best National Team in the world, by far. They dominate all the phases of the game. Although the other National Teams are closing the gap. In the round of 16 we lost 2-1, only, and we started scoring; This five years ago was unthinkable. We did not reach their competitive level. Now what we have to do is keep the competitive level and play well.

Nike has been sponsoring you since you were 19 years old. Is it an example of the growth of women’s football and your own in particular?

Now all the players in the first team are sponsored by brands like this one. And I, started with 19, but without signing any contract, still, they only helped me with the material. 7 years ago the brands did not invest in women's football as much as they do now, but women’s football didn’t generate revenue such as much as it does now.

Natàlia Arroyo said of you in a report to Movistar +: "She has talent without realizing it, she does not need to show how good she is, it comes out alone." Is it the best praise that can be made to a football player?

I do not know what to say ... [blushes] Natàlia has seen a lot of football and a lot of women’s football. As I have get praise, I also get criticism, but when I go out to the field I do not think about the debates I can create in individual prizes, I go out to do it as well as I can, at the service of the team, to win and be happy.

What do they criticize about you?

Who criticizes me, I'll tell you, too, does not wear the same jersey than I ... [smiles] They say that I play because I'm the face of Nike, that I'm not as good as they say, that I haven’t won the League in four years ... In the end, I’ve been playing professionally for eight years, and played almost all the games, and I do not think it was for being the face of Nike.

The growth of women’s soccer is also this, the critics, right or unjust.

And they have to be, and so much. I do not support paternalism, we must never accept it, that they protect us only for being women. If we have not won a League in four years, we must accept it, because it is true.

Those who have seen you grow say that at the beginning you were more individualistic and now you understand the collective game much better, do you share it?

Especially in the Spanish team, I played in the wing and I was told that I always had to go 1v1. Instead, I now play more inside and I enjoy it much more. I like to help our teammates, and if I can put the ball where they can exploit their virtues, I do.

I've heard you say you have "bad temper", but speaking with you I would not say it. When does it come out?

Now not so much ...

Is it part of you growing up?

Yes, I don’t get mad as often anymore, when I lose, and I try to understand what has happened and improve it.

I can not resist the question ... Did you have a hard time with your surname in school?

The truth is that no. Putellas is a well-known name in Mollet, and I was lucky to be in a school that never paid attention to it, just like I never had problems playing football with the boys at the playground.

But were they mad that a girl dribbled past them?

I do not think so. When we picked teams, I was always the first one they chose [smiles].

[sciencespies]

How Scientists Are Keeping Irreplaceable Research Going During the COVID-19 Pandemic

https://sciencespies.com/nature/how-scientists-are-keeping-irreplaceable-research-going-during-the-covid-19-pandemic/

How Scientists Are Keeping Irreplaceable Research Going During the COVID-19 Pandemic

Every year for the last half-century, scientists have gone to sea to collect ocean data as part of the Northern Gulf of Alaska Long Term Ecological Research Project. Now, because of the novel coronavirus, the five-decade-long project faces potential data gaps.

Russell Hopcroft, project leader and oceanography professor at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, says the status of three research cruises planned for 2020 is unclear even as the first is scheduled to depart in five weeks. The research team already decided to replace non-Alaskan team members with Alaskan scientists to reduce the amount of travel involved and drive, rather than fly, to the vessel’s launch point in Seward.

If they can continue, all team members will actively monitor their health for 14 days before boarding, self-quarantining and taking their temperatures regularly. But if the vessel doesn’t sail, the project will see gaps in the physical and biological data scientists have been carefully collecting for decades. “You hate to miss a data point because you never know what any given year is going to look like and whether it’s going to be an important year where something odd has happened,” Hopcroft says.

Hopcroft is one of many researchers scrambling to find ways to continue their research in a rapidly changing world where travel is difficult if not impossible and many university campuses are closing. The National Science Foundation and other agencies are working with scientists to adapt research plans and funding schedules, but many questions remain unanswered.

The village of Qaanaaq, Greenland, sits on the edge of a fjord that is ice-covered in winter.

(Mary Albert)

The Ends of the Earth

NSF has halted deployments to Antarctica, for example. A mid-March flight to bring construction crews to work on projects including the Antarctic Infrastructure Modernization for Science (AIMS) initiative has been delayed for at least a month.

On the other side of the world, Polar Bears International scrambles to continue its remote Arctic fieldwork. Geoff York, the organization’s senior director of conservation, spoke to Smithsonian from self-isolation at his Bozeman, Montana, home after returning from Europe. Much of the team’s upcoming fieldwork to places like Canada’s Western Hudson Bay and Norway has been canceled or put on hold. He says the complex and expensive logistics involved means rescheduling may not be possible.

York says researchers spend years preparing for such projects, including spending the last year on logistics such as caching fuel and food in remote locations. “Some of these are kind of opportunities that are windows in time,” York says. “If they’re missed, trying to come back to do them again can be quite difficult.” York says the nature of the work leaves researchers with few options for alternative arrangements.

“In most of these, there is no Plan B,” he says. Such an endeavor requires “specialized training to do the work of getting out, and most of the cases involve live capture of polar bears out on the sea ice, so definitely not anyone can step in and do that.”

Some scientists bridge the gaps with technology. When the COVID-19 crisis began, Mary Albert, professor of engineering at Dartmouth College, had just begun a four-year project to collaborate with the 600-person community of Qaanaaq, Greenland, to create sustainable energy solutions. The NSF-funded project is slated to begin in April when Albert and her team were set to visit Qaanaaq to learn about the community’s goals and vision.

Because of the remote area’s limited medical resources, however, Albert and her Greenlandic colleagues were concerned about the chance of inadvertently introducing the coronavirus to the community and agreed to postpone the trip to late August or September. In the meantime, the team focuses on emails, phone calls, and teleconferencing to exchange information and gather preliminary data. The researchers had hoped in April to install meteorological stations with sensors and instrumentation to chart soil temperature, wind speed and solar radiation, but that component will have to wait.

“We’ll lose the summer data from that and so it will put us back that way… but it’s definitely not a show-stopper,” Albert says.

​Åsa Rennermalm, associate professor of geography at Rutgers University, is also assessing her data-collecting options. She planned fieldwork for June and August in Greenland, where she is working on a decade-long data project monitoring meltwater from the Greenland Ice Sheet as it flows through the tundra. If she can’t travel, she will have to hope the instruments she left in place remain and continue to function. The sensors are programmed to collect data every 30 minutes and have a capacity of 40,000 data points, so they should continue to collect throughout the summer. However, when she visits her stations, she performs important calculations to ensure accurate data and troubleshoots any technical issues, which is now impossible.

“To do high-quality observations, you should go and do the discharge measurements once a year at least,” Rennermalm says. “Even if the instrument is running, if we can’t go it will reduce the quality of the data.”

Elizabeth Thomas in Greenland

(Kristen Pope)

Careers in Limbo

One of Rennermalm’s biggest concerns is the impact canceled fieldwork would have on her graduate students. She hopes to bring two graduate students to Greenland to collect data for their PhDs this year.

Elizabeth Thomas, assistant professor of geology at the University of Buffalo, shares those worries. Losing a summer’s worth of fieldwork could be detrimental to a graduate student’s ability to complete their projects and graduate on time—before their funding runs out. Fieldwork is also one of the most sought-after graduate school experiences.

“I’ve had graduate students ask me, ‘So are we going into the field?’” Thomas says. “Because it’s a highlight of their graduate careers to get to do stuff like that, and it’s totally up in the air right now, which is really sad.”

Research in Thomas’s lab also could grind to a halt if her school orders its labs to close, a possibility many colleges and universities must consider. For now, her lab has enacted strict cleaning, hygiene and social distancing protocols, and its members hope to work as long as possible.

Thomas, too, has fieldwork planned in the far north this year. She was to visit Alaska in July and Baffin Island, Canada, in August. While her team didn’t buy plane tickets yet, they already scheduled helicopter time. Overall, she worries about bringing students into the field when so much remains uncertain. “We understand and accept the regular risks related to fieldwork, but this is a whole new thing that we’ve never even considered,” Thomas says. “The nice thing is the science can still happen. It will eventually happen whether we go up this summer or next summer.”

Science in Danger

Despite the challenges, scientists aren’t worried about only their work—they are concerned about the pandemic’s toll on the world. While Hopcroft is in Alaska preparing for three cruises that may or may not happen, gathering equipment and supplies, he emphasizes that whether or not he can collect data this year, safety is everyone’s priority.

“There is the balance to be found between our desire to maintain our scientific work and the health [and] safety of those involved,” Hopcroft says. “At this point, I just keep making contingency plans, but the ultimate decision just before the cruise will be made based on everyone’s safety and the perception of risk.”

Says York: “In the short term, [COVID-19] could have significant impacts on research globally that range from delay to cancelation, from disappointing postponement to significant expense, lost data, and disruption of long-term data sets. Of these, lost data and disruption of long-term data are the most concerning, especially in a time of rapid environmental change and for projects where timing is critical to policy actions. International collaboration will be significantly curtailed as well, across disciplines, as travel restrictions fall into place and borders close.”

Editor’s note, March 20, 2020: This story has been updated to clarify that the Polar Bears International organization does not currently work in Greenland.

#Nature

[warpaintt]

literally so annoyed right now because I finally found a foundation that I love and I pan it in 2 months

[whentherewerebicycles]

good morning from my roommates. we slept nine and a half hours again last night lol. I guess I am just fully leaning into the ‘erase the sleep deficit’ mission these last three weeks before my new job starts and I don’t have summers off anymore.

still no answer from the foundation and it’s driving me crazyyyyy. if people are on vacation can they at least put up an out of office reply so we’re not left wondering if our email has been shot directly into the void?? I really resent how every message to them has to be carefully crafted & approved by six important people to make sure it’s appropriately deferential and fawning… and then the foundation itself is just free to ignore us for 3-12 weeks every time we reach out to them. ugh and I’m still so annoyed by them giving us false hope in that meeting back in February, then making us go through all the work of crafting a new proposal and budget, then making us wait for 7 weeks with no reply, then unceremoniously rejecting us with no explanation other than “oops sorry we’ve decided to move on.” whateverrrr. if you’re an insanely wealthy institution you don’t have to be considerate of other people’s time or livelihoods I guess. I think if we don’t hear from them this week I need to tell my boss I just can’t do both. I negotiated these extra two weeks off so we could handle interviews and cohort selection plus hiring and training a new part-time person in august, but the delayed response means if they say yes I’ll now be cramming all of that work into the first few weeks of the new job. it’s to the point where I am hoping they say no (or take so long that it becomes a logistical impossibility) because I am Stressed and Exhausted just thinking about what September will feel like.

okay sigh enough irritation. it’s already 11 and I’ve barely done anything. what will make this day feel like a success?

buy plane tickets for sam’s wedding!

go for a brisk walk/light jog (with Pip?) now before it gets too hot. I’ve been putting on weight this summer because I’ve cut back so much on outdoor exercise in the heat. I think I want to try to build in 25 minutes of extra movement per day this week (in addition to my 40 min daily walk), and then see if I can gradually increase that by 10 minutes each week until I’m back up to last summer’s 75-90 minutes of daily exercise. sigh I should also maybe look into rejoining the Y

finish my L&D book (2 hours)

15 min burst of timed writing on LP letter

submit July timesheets

spend 2 hours editing podcast audio

1-2 hours of course planning

experiment with relocating router to see if that will fix my seemingly endless wifi issues (need to call AT&T if it doesn’t)

vacuum bedroom

run dishwasher

wipe down kitchen counters and stove

take out trash and recycling x 2

do veggie prep for fried rice or I will never do it and these veggies will go bad!

walk dogs 40 minutes tonight

[architectnews]

Carbon neutrality "still allows for carbon emissions" says Google sustainability lead

Google continues to emit greenhouse gases despite claiming to be carbon neutral, Dezeen has learned.

The tech giant, which says it has been carbon neutral since 2007 and claims to have eliminated its entire carbon legacy, has emitted around 20 million tonnes of carbon in that period.

Yet it has adopted a definition of carbon neutrality that allows it to claim its carbon footprint is zero while remaining an ongoing contributor to atmospheric carbon.

"Carbon neutrality still allows you to emit"

"Our legacy on carbon dates back to 2007 when we were the first major company to achieve carbon neutrality, and that was just nine years after we were founded," said Robin Bass, real estate and workplace services sustainability programs lead at Google.

"We are carbon neutral in terms of purchasing renewable energy to offset all of our consumption and eliminating our legacy carbon, which is also part of our strategy."

Top: "Dragonscale" solar panels on Google's Mountain View building. Above: Photovoltaics and geothermal piles will provide some of the power for Google's new HQ

However, Bass admitted that the approach meant that the company continues to emit CO2 and that its offsetting programme does not compensate for its emissions by removing carbon from the atmosphere.

"Carbon neutrality still allows for carbon emissions," she told Dezeen. "People are using a lot of different terms and some of them mean different things.

"The way that I think about it is that carbon neutrality still allows you to emit," she continued. "You can still be producing carbon, you can still be connected to a grid that is burning coal or some fossil fuel."

"And as long as you offset that by purchasing renewable energy somewhere, you can still achieve carbon neutrality."

Offsetting is a "fallacy"

Google's stance aligns with the international PAS 2060 standard for carbon neutrality. This allows companies to claim they are carbon neutral if they use offsets or carbon credits.

However, offsets that prevent additional CO2 from reaching the atmosphere, for example by buying renewable power or capturing emissions from factories, do not negate the emissions that have already been made.

Robin Bass, real estate and workplace services sustainability programs lead at Google

Unlike net-zero, which is a far more demanding standard that has become the global benchmark for decarbonisation, carbon neutrality allows companies to continue emitting more CO2 than they remove from the atmosphere.

Offsets are becoming increasingly controversial. "I call it the fallacy of the offset," sustainable design guru William McDonough told Dezeen in an interview last month.

"If somebody says, oh, I've got this much renewable power and I'm gonna offset my carbon emissions, you have to be very careful," McDonough said. "That would logically then say that if you doubled your renewables, you could double your carbon and still be net-zero."

"That doesn't make any sense at all, because the atmosphere absorbs twice as much carbon. Renewables don't equal to [removing] carbon."

True net-zero "requires carbon removal"

Speaking to Dezeen this week, Taylor Francis of decarbonisation platform Watershed said that net-zero emissions can only be achieved by removing carbon from the atmosphere.

"We strongly believe that true net-zero requires carbon removal, which is taking carbon out of the atmosphere, rather than traditional offsets, which involve paying someone else not to emit carbon into the atmosphere," he said.

Google says it became carbon neutral in 2007. In September last year, CEO Sundar Pichai announced that the firm had eliminated its carbon legacy dating back to its foundation in 1998.

"As of today, we have eliminated Google's entire carbon legacy (covering all our operational emissions before we became carbon neutral in 2007) through the purchase of high-quality carbon offsets," he stated in a keynote address.

"This means that Google's lifetime net carbon footprint is now zero."

Offsets make emissions "lower than they would have been"

However, a white paper outlining Google's carbon offsets explains that these merely make emissions "lower than they would have been" rather than bringing them to zero.

"At Google, we reduce our carbon footprint through efficiency improvements, generating on-site solar power and purchasing green power," the white paper states.

"To bring our remaining footprint to zero, we buy carbon offsets. A carbon offset is an investment in an activity that reduces carbon emissions. The reduction in carbon emissions is represented by a carbon credit."

"The credit, usually verified by a third party, signifies that greenhouse gas emissions are lower than they would have been had no one invested in the offset."

Google invests in offsets that burn captured methane

Google uses offsets that include capturing methane from landfill sites and agricultural sites. The methane is "captured and used or burned". It also works with forestry projects that "protect forests from destruction and degradation or [...] enhance and develop new ones".

The white paper states that since 2007, Google has "partnered with more than 40 carbon offset projects to offset more than 20 million tCO2e emissions".

This means that it must have emitted an equivalent amount – 20 million tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent – over the same period.

Bass works on the sustainability aspects of new Google buildings including the emerging campus at Mountain View in California, which has been designed by Bjarke Ingels Group and Thomas Heatherwick.

"We have a strategy to look for and innovate with manufacturers on lower-carbon options [for building materials]," she said, adding that in terms of lowering the embodied carbon of Google buildings, "we're absolutely tracking all of that".

"We've looked at the best-case scenario for mass timber. We will still use concrete and steel so we're really driving innovation on both of those materials, which have a very big [carbon] footprint. There's a lot of really exciting technology coming out for both of those products."

Mountain View campus topped with "dragonscale" solar panels

The giant Mountain View building will generate some of its power from "dragonscale" solar panels on its roof while geothermal pilings will help heat and cool the building.

Pichai discussed the project in another keynote in May this year when he said the project was part of Google's "moonshot" drive to achieve "24/7 carbon-free energy" by 2030.

"When completed, these buildings will feature a first-of-its-kind dragonscale solar skin, equipped with 90,000 silver solar panels and the capacity to generate nearly 7 megawatts," he said.

"They will house the largest geothermal pile system in North America to help heat buildings in the winter and cool them in the summer. It's been amazing to see it come to life."

However, Bass was unable to say what percentage of the building's power would be generated by the solar and geothermal systems.

In order to meet the objectives of the 2015 Paris Agreement and keep global warming within 1.5 degrees Celsius of pre-industrial levels, the global economy needs to halve emissions by 2030 and become net-zero by 2050.

Google aims to reduce Scope 3 emissions by 50 per cent this year

Last month, Google signed up to the United Nations' Race to Zero campaign, which helps companies align their strategies with the Paris goals and achieve net-zero emissions.

Net-zero involves eliminating "Scope 3" emissions, which are emissions generated by a company's supply chain, including embodied carbon emissions caused by the construction of new buildings as well as emissions caused by customers using a company's products. These are the hardest emissions to eliminate.

"We will set a science-based target to reduce our Scope 3 emissions by at least 50 per cent later this year, in line with the guidance from UN's Race to Zero campaign and Exponential Roadmap Initiative," Google told Dezeen.

The United Nations' Race to Zero campaign defines net-zero as meaning no carbon is added to the atmosphere either directly or indirectly over the entire lifecycle, which includes materials used in a project and emissions caused by customers using a product, service or building.

"There's always more work to do"

Where emissions cannot be eliminated, they can be offset using carbon removal schemes that directly capture carbon from the atmosphere, for example via biomass or direct air capture technology. Offsetting schemes that reduce or defer emissions do not count, making Google's offsets incompatible with the Race to Zero.

"There's a ton of complexity in what makes something carbon-neutral or carbon-free," Bass said. "As a company, we're addressing it across all of our product areas, and certainly within the REWS [real estate and workplace services] portfolio as well."

"We offset all of our electricity consumption every year and have achieved that since 2017," she added. "Our really big goal is to work with local energy grids by doing things like the dragonscale solar and the geothermal and partnering with them on how we help them transition to cleaner energy supplies as well so that all of our buildings can plug into a clean grid."

"There's always more work to do," she added. "If anyone out there is claiming that they're 100 per cent carbon-free, red flags should be going up everywhere."

Carbon revolution

This article is part of Dezeen's carbon revolution series, which explores how this miracle material could be removed from the atmosphere and put to use on earth. Read all the content at: www.dezeen.com/carbon.

The sky photograph used in the carbon revolution graphic is by Taylor van Riper via Unsplash.

The post Carbon neutrality "still allows for carbon emissions" says Google sustainability lead appeared first on Dezeen.