#i hate the whole hustle culture things

[organicastrologytakes]

Are you the Tortoise or the Hare? Zodiac Sign Edition

Aries: Definitely Hare, no further explanation needed. You speed run life, no doubt about it. Taurus: Tortoise, and you do it wonderfully. Honestly, you are taking life one minute at a time. Good for you, don't give into hustle culture. Gemini: HARE, they are the people who text, drive, and talk to their great aunt in the passenger seat at the same time. If they are not multitasking, who are they as a person? Cancer: This can go either way, but I am going to say Tortoise. They honestly always seem way too chilled out or way too stressed out, there is no in between with them. Leo: Luminaries can always go either way, I honestly would say overall Hare? How else are they going to be a theater kid, taking 9 choir classes, and be the student body president in all of high school and college? They need that attention bruh. Virgo: no doubt about it: Hare. They do so much behind the scenes honestly it's way too impressive. They are on a whole 'nother level, they be quoting daily "I don't see how you can hate from outside of the club, you can't even get in." Libra: Hare, Hare, Hare. I've never met a libra who can actually sit still and have a full fledge conversation without meeting ten other people and having them join in on that conversation. Scorpio: Definitely Tortoise. An effortless prestige, they don't need to do anything to achieve everything they want tbh. Sagittarius: Hare. These peeps be starting a multi-million dollar business while graduating from their doctorate and opening their first Michelin star restaurant. Capricorn: Hare. They complain about all the messes they have to fix in order to actually get things done in their workplace or house. Aquarius: Tortoise. Honestly, they have no rush in them, they mostly worry about judging others and ghosting them later because they had food stuck in their teeth after lunch. Pisces: Tortoise. Have you met a pisces? How many times have they been off in their own world, romanticizing about the next Aquarius they fall in love with and get their heartbroken. They ain't moving from that bench anytime soon, sweetheart.

[astrologicaldiary]

Reviewing my solar return chart 2023

Scorpio Rising

This year was a transformative year for me . I really had to work on personal things especially surrounding family. I got more into astrology and tarot, and also in some spells. I was wearing and buying a lot of black clothes. If I wasn’t working in the office , I would have some piercings and tattoos. And since Mars also rule Scorpio, I was in a car accident which I had a big settlement on.

Pluto in 4th house (Aquarius)

This one was tough, I had some family drama. I even shared a secret which left me to not support or trust my family as a whole especially a parent of mine . This was when I moved out which is against my culture. My culture think a woman should only moved out when she’s marry….And I don’t agree with that bs, and I’m a rebel . This was a huge shift for me …

Saturn and Neptune in 5th house (Pisces)

Definitely delay in dating and creativity. I created a YouTube and TikTok to create content and hope that I can do it as a side hustle. That shit didn’t work out …. I really didn’t date like that , but I wasn’t playing about my standards.

Chiron in 6th house (Aries)

One of my parent has Aries placements, so there are definitely a clash in our relationship. Plus , I hated doing chores and having a healthy routine. Plus my best friend is a Aries rising . So she would come to my place and help me clean a little but of course she was cursing me out to clean this and that ! I mean she was right but I’m a Taurus rising. Don’t tell me what to do 😂. Plus going to work was just a drag , I even tried to apply for new jobs that just didn’t work out ….

Uranus, mercury, north node and Jupiter in 7 house (Taurus )

I really disappointed in this placement! Y’all told me that if you have this placement, you could get in a relationship, which wasn’t true at all ! I had some connections with other people in some group therapy…. Ooohhhhh, my descendant is in this house . So I was connected with people who have went through some harsh trauma. But they aren’t friends though. I wish I had a lover, yea I didn’t have a lot of connections going on…

Sun in the 8th house (Gemini)

Definitely I wish interested in occult and some witchcraft…. Plus , I felt happy or sane when I researched on astrology, numerology and other taboos stuffs. I had some refunds from school too.

Venus in 9th house (cancer )

This one I’m a little confused. I didn’t have no romance from school or another country. I did good in my school, even though I feel like it took up most of my time . I was aware about any international news. And I was cooking a lot 😂

Moon, MC and mars in 10th house (Leo)

I’m not going to spend so much on it. I spoke about another post. I really was yearning for creative career, and it just didn’t work out….

[raymoohackery]

ok rambling about phone time after my post about the tik tok update that DESTROYS your phone and how i actually hate the whole thing of people shaming others for having 8+ hours of screen time instead of doing something more "productive" aka time consuming activities that need their own schedule and can't be done on the go. people love to pretend we can switch 8 hours of scrolling where the person reads and watches videos with let's say pottery sculpting learning a new language.. the latter especially being "on your phone" with overpriced apps.

let's say someone has to do a total of 4 hours of commute a day and has a total of 40 mins of break at school or work we can already put that as potential screen time made to log the brain off, therefore leaving only 3 hours and 20 minutes of "wasted" time on the phone.

people pretend we can read or watch a documentary during the commute AS IF you'd memorize anything you'd read in between two noisy subways. I'd take my glittery screen over faking to be an intellectual anytime.

to me excessive phone use becomes a problem not if it's 2 to 15 hours a day but rather at the moment the phone time makes you unable to work, to study, and most importantly prevents you from doing the things you usually love or if it endangers you (using your phone on the road because you can't stop using it). add to that it becomes problematic when the person absorbs everything they see on tik tok twitter tumblr pinterest like a reality when it's obviously mostly fake *thinking about aesthetic hustling culture diet culture blogs here* anyway I'd love to see where you stand on that

thought abt this ask after LRB. honestly i do think that excessive phone use has bad sides to it, dependinv on how you use it. mindless scrolling is bad for your brain in the longterm, but looking at stuff like art or talking with people on enriching subjects is great. at the end of the day the problem is capitalism and the attention economy where shortening the customer's attention span so it can be bought up is the profit model. unfortunately we DO live in a reality where most of a working day is monopolized by being tired and unfocused where the best way of entertainment is looking at funny images on your phone cuz thats all you have time for. its a vicious cycle really. not so much about minmaxing all your productive time, but about keeping your brain healthy by not getting addicted to watching 5 videos at once so you dont have to suffer the horrible dreg of: watching 1 thirty second video in full undisturbed

in sum, its not the great evil everyone claims it is, but it can go down south real fast and shatter your attention span. but don't get caught up in that and it's really not a problem i think. i'm guilty of scrolling all day erry day but its just cause its the easiest way of getting laughs in, engaging with others, and look at inspiring images. i get sone of my best fic ideas looking at what the ganondorf mutuals are saying ..... :)

[moreteethplease]

Devlog: I Am Fortunate

> Play it here!

I Am Fortunate is a short "game" made for the Fuck Capitalism Jam with bitsy, inspired by the theme of the 74th bitsy jam, The Little Things. Have three conversations about your job and its merits on a long elevator ride down to see your boss.

Devlog under the cut, with spoilers.

I almost gave up on making something for the Fuck Capitalism Jam. I knew I wanted to make a game in bitsy and I had a few ideas, but I didn't like where they were going and ended up scrapping the whole thing five days after I started. But then the 74th bitsy jam started, and its theme, The Little Things, inspired me.

I wanted to make a game about hustle culture and the pressure to monetize your hobbies. Every single source of income I have is a hobby that I monetized: writing, editing, design work, coding... These are all passions that I have sacrificed to business so I can keep afloat. As a disabled individual who cannot hold down a job that requires a consistent schedule, my monetized hobbies are my lifelines. It's something I am grateful for and also loathe deeply. So many people in similar positions don't have access to my method of survival. But I still absolutely hate seeing every new interest I develop get swallowed up by capitalism because I don't have a choice. I have to survive, and that's an expensive endeavour these days, and it's only getting more expensive by the month.

Once I was inspired, writing the game's script took very little time. I like writing dialog and back-and-forths between characters. I'm not sure how well this kind of dialog works in a platform like bitsy, but I enjoy it so I keep doing it!

Art took a bit longer. I made the elevator scenes and the final antagonist scene, but the character sprites and office use tiles from others (credited on the game page). The speed lines next to the elevator took a while. They seem simple, but for the longest time they just didn't look right.

Putting the game together was easy but very time-consuming, using multiple hacks applied with Borksy. I mostly made use of the "edit room from dialog" hack, which lets you input code in dialog boxes that creates and removes objects in the room. That's how I made the elevator doors open and close!

The antagonist of this "game" is your boss, portrayed as an object-head type being with a pocket watch for a head. This is not subtle at all - the point is that the boss is Time, as weaponized by capitalism.

Time used to be something owned by us, something we could carve out and use as we saw fit. Some time went to work, some time went to pleasure. But today, survival often dictates that any time you spend not working is time wasted. You have to constantly be on your grind to make rent, so finding success is an even more impossible-feeling venture. Even when you no longer need to do this, you might still feel guilty for taking a break. And even if you never needed to do this, you hear about the need to "hustle" and find side gigs and passive income... Even the littlest spots of joy in your life must serve a purpose. If it's not productive, it is inherently a waste. So the idea is that Time, your boss, demands that you sacrifice everything to him, and he also knows that you would choose to keep doing so even if he demands nothing.

If you'd like, you can play my "game" here:

[moriartyluver]

alright now that I’ve been reassured that rambling here is okay, ur not gonna hear the end of me hehe

back to fl being the embodiment of ‘the man’, im gonna do a silly little lyric analysis.

“they’d say I played the field before I found someone to commit to” - i feel like fl would feel very trapped and stuff bc of marriage and how everyone criticised her high standards, even her parents who love her a lot. (also kinda basing some of these in the og version I found on quotev yesterday) and how she got so pissed that she burnt her parents letter about marriage.

“every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss to you”- HER WPRRY BEING THAT THE MORIARTY TEAM MUGHT NOT SEE HER AS KMPORTANT AS LIAM EVEN THO SHES JUST AS SMART IF NOT SMARTER. i can imagine moran or something not obeying a command and she just yells at him that she is his superior just as much as William is and everyone’s kinda surprised bc she lost her temper.

“When everyone believes ya What's that like? I'm so sick of running as fast as I can Wondering if I'd get there quicker If I was a man”- her whole little rivalry with William kinda being rooted in the fact that nobody views her accomplishments as big as his. in the og, she got that award or something but nobody cares as much as they did abt Liam’s award. i think she mainly hates him b cause to her, he represents how men are seen as superior in Victorian society

“They'd say I hustled Put in the work They wouldn't shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve What I was wearing If I was rude Could all be separated from my good ideas and power moves?“- again with the whole worry thing. Also the third line makes me think of the old male nobles gossiping abt fl and saying she probably only got a degree through bad stuff (I can totally see a rumour that she slept with a professor or something for good grades even tho the only Professor she’d ever sleep with would be William-) I feel like they might also make fun of her cultural clothes or slutshame her even if she were being modest bc the nobles are all jealous cows

“What's it like to brag about Raking in dollars And getting bitches and models And it's all good if you're bad And it's okay if you're mad If I was out flashing my dollars I'd be a bitch, not a baller They paint me out to be bad So it's okay that I'm mad”- she’s really rich but if she tried to flaunt but not actually flaunt her wealth. If she were a man, she’d be a successful businessman but she gets treated like a spoiled princess type instead.

honestly fl is giving me medea vibes but less cruel

-🦢

BRO I LOVE MEDEA SM. SUCH A GIRL BOSS ARGH. ALSO THIS ANALYSIS IS SO GOOD 😭 TRHNK U FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DO THIS

Her getting mad and losing her temper because of her insecurities or being disrespected is soo real. I might just steal that idea idk.

Forgot to delete the og of quotev bc I’ve not checked quotev in agessss but I might just leave it up until I can be bothered to rework it. I hated the original tho cus the pacing was all messed up and alot of the backstory that I was anger to add kept getting missed out so I’m trying to make the rework better now lol

Tbh I don’t think they’d directly make fun of her bc from what I understand is that in Victorian society, wealth still meant a lot and if fl was the daughter of a grand duke and had literal ties to the Queen, they wouldn’t dare say anything to her face and if a rumour like that got found out, they’d probably find a scapegoat to blame the rumour on (probably a fallen noble or something) I can see them being a bit xenophobic to her too because people of colour, although they were in high society, they never were as recognised and treated as well as white British nobles.

[capt-mactavish-ask-blog]

Concerning man's punishment, its woman. Seriously. That ancient society was quite misogynistic, but whatever. Anyways, the actual myth goes that Zeus got with all the other gods to make a perfect punishment and trick for man

Hephestus created Pandora and all of the others gave her shit fairy godmother style, like beauty that made everyone stop and stare, but notably she also got curiosity, like a fuck ton of it. Then Zeus sent her down with a vase/urn and instructions to never open it. Prometheus warned his brother not to trust Zeus at all. Like. At. All. But Epimetheus is a little slow, so he saw the prettiest thing he ever did see, so he accepted Pandora.

Pandora lived with them for a while and it was all great but man what the hell is in that vase/urn? Zeus can't just give her a sick ass vase/urn and not expect her to open it! Which is so real. Like me too girl. So she opens it.

Suddenly a whole bunch of terrible things fly out! Death! Strife! Famine! Literally everything bad in the world! But stuck at the bottom is Hope. I always thought that Hope snuck in there when Zeus was putting all the shit in and acts as like a kind of salvation for humanity that humanity has to choose and work for themselves, hence it not flying out with the rest. However, there are some scholars that postulate that Hope was considered another evil, encouraging people to go above their station and all that, but I disagree considering the difference in how Hope and everything else is described.

Some H writer, I forgor if it was Hesiod or Homer or whoever, but he said that Zeus made it so that man has to deal with a nagging wife and a shit life because of the nagging life or deal with not having heirs and kids to take care of him when he gets old as like a catch 22, and I'm just like, damn, you hate women that much? What did they do to you?

What we will go through next is the Homer's Hymm to Demeter, which is basically the entire story of Persephone and Hades and Demeter's grief and revenge and all that, but it's huge so it deserves its own ask.

Also! Talking to 🐾 anon. Hi! Personally, Zeus is like fine ig, but I can't make judgments on his character unless I were to somehow meet him and chat, which I doubt is gonna happen. A lot of myths were created to either explain natural phenomenon/cultural practice or to give families and cities claims to fame. If I were to somehow meet him, I would probably make fun of him in some way for funzies, depending on what is or isn't true. He may or may not strike me down for it, but it would be so worth it, and I would be nothing if I were not a jester. And I am more than happy to talk myth and stories anytime! Ya girl is an English major, so this type of discussion is my lifeblood. My favorite gods are the Muses collectively and Dionysus. He's a silly little guy most of the time, and I respect the whimsical hustle. Also, he would let me tear apart a wild animal and eat it raw with my bare hands with no consequences, and I wish I could be that feral sometimes.

I wish my art history professor was this entertaining about Greek mythology omg— Honestly tho the story of Pandora is a fav of mine. Someday when I get the money I actually plan on getting some kind of tattoo based on it lol

🐾, you’ve got mail!

[mintyisms]

Baddie SMP Starters 7

the one with exploding newspapers and burning mansions

"He just did a reverse prank on us."

"I'm in a taco restaurant. I can't really talk."

"I'm trying to do something really nice for you and you're making yourself look like a fool."

"There's a giant ass cat next to my house."

"You named the cat Logan?"

"I'm not that ugly. Give me a break."

"I mean, you hang out with a guy that watches porn in a taco restaurant."

"This is supposed to be a nice thing I did for you and you're really being mean to me."

"We were enemies once. Some would say I hated you."

"You had a deep jealousy for me. I was cooler and more talented."

"I haven't even started eating my tacos yet."

"You better not be proposing that I stop hitting your cat, dude."

"I can tell he really means business because he's timidly whispering into his phone in a taco restaurant."

"If you ever try messing with me again, things will only get worse."

"All he did was blow up my house and my cat."

"That was very British."

"He's not here to defend himself, so go ahead and throw him under the bus as you see fit."

"I'm a big hustle culture guy."

"If I've got my boys to protect me, I'm probably good."

"Why is life so crazy sometimes?"

"It's kind of messed up that you brought that up again."

"I was dragged behind the bus for a few cities."

"It doesn't sound okay, even if the people who were involved say it was okay."

"We didn't even go to Paris."

"I wouldn't call it a near-death experience. I would call it a death experience."

"I don't remember because the doctors legally pronounced me dead for about four minutes."

"Impersonating a doctor is what made it illegal."

"I had no idea I was about to do that. That was crazy."

"I'll never be as cool as Pitbull, aka Mr. World Wide."

"I would actually parkour over people planking."

"Are you just lighting chickens on fire?"

"I will trade you, you just have to trust me that it will be worth your while."

"I was a parkour expert in my youth."

"I guess I sank your boat."

"This cow is on fire."

"If I jump off and live, will you give me some props?"

"I'm looking for the DeLorean from Back to the Future."

"Sometimes a nice warm cloth can really go a long way."

"We've just been doing parkour for the last hour."

"I'm going to, as the kids say, risk it for the biscuit."

"How did you just forget about this whole thing?"

"Could I have done anything to save him?"

"I don't want to die, I'm running."

"What if it's got a chill vibe? Like there's a ball pit or something?"

"Check the walls. There's hidden rooms."

"This is a big ass roof. Makes you happy to be alive."

"Is this a classic prank?"

"Let's burn this shit to the ground."

"Arson time!"

"We might have started a forest fire."

"I need a fireman to come save me."

"We really came in and killed those guys and burned their house down."

"It's oddly kind of calming to just stand here and watch everything burn to the ground."

[mademoisellefantasy]

Rant time!

I know religious discourse isn't a big thing on this app, but I really need to get some of my thoughts out into the world. So, I saw a video from a Christian influencer recently that was supposed to be a guide on how to be "That Christian Girl" or whatever and tbh I cannot stop thinking about its absurdity and complete lack of understanding of the actual Gospel.

First of all, I am 99.9% certain that Jesus Christ, the man that literally compelled people to choose God over money because a human cannot serve both holiness and greed, would HATE the "That Girl" trend that's going on online right now. It is basically consumerism and never-ending hustle culture packaged in a pretty girly aesthetic and put on the Internet with one and one goal only in mind: make money by convincing people to change all their habbits. (Of course, there are some bits of advice that are actually useful, like recommending exercise and healthy meals or promoting journaling etc., but it's mostly just another cash-grabby way to pressure women to be perfect).

Secondly, that influencer talked about intergrating Bible study and godliness into "that girl" routine as the only way to find yourself and be closer with God. And as a Christian myself that really annoyed me. Like, no, if you only find God in His Word then you aren't actually finding him at all. God is a lot more than the Gospel. He exists everywhere and makes His presence apparent everywhere. I understand not everyone is Christian, but I am pretty sure we can all agree on the beauty of nature, of art, of human connections, of philosophy, of love, of science, of the universe as a whole. And if anyone believes then they automatically attribute that "larger-than-life" beauty to God and find themselves through it.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but if your only way of acting in your faith and thus becoming a better version of yourself is to follow consumerist online videos and reading the Bible in the same way everyday without reaching for more knowledge and external wisdom, you need to reconsider your relationship to your faith.

[beninparis]

Day 3 except it’s posted on Day 4 and covers Day 1 and Day 2 as well

The jet lag was like hell, I couldn’t sleep the whole night, and the breakfast was awful on arrival.

I’m glad I went through all of it.

Because all of it brought me here, a place that going to seemed like a pipe dream. It seemed much different than I expected, I honestly expected it to be a lot more modernized. It’s like a smaller, antique version of New York where things are in walking distance and history is worn on the sleeve. Also similar to New York, it bears a lot of graffiti. More than I imagined in fact.

So far, I feel something different here than I do back home. I think I feel a greater sense of calm than I normally do. Along with a bit more confidence and willingness to go places. On the third day I felt a certain sense of magic, sipping vending machine cappuccino early in the morning and walking to get breakfast. It could just be that I’m in a new place. It could also be the fact that cars aren’t really necessary, everything can be walked to or taken the metro to, and everything’s more quiet. My hometown is a place where I can’t just walk from home to a restaurant, cars are mandatory to living there. Lexington is a bit better, but even then there’s a lot that can’t really be walked to and it's loud a lot of the time. But this? This is the kind of change I’ve been looking for. And even if it can’t last forever and I may never get it back (unless I pull a Hemingway…) I can still hold onto it just for this moment. As long as it’s mine.

The first day felt like compensation. To compensate for a bland breakfast, I was provided a terrific lunch. To compensate for a sleepless plane, I was provided a boat to nap on. (Seriously, I was so freaking tired)

Second day kind of shows off something Nancy said. “A place where the past meets the present.” After taking a ride through the modern RER and Metro, we arrive at the historic Arc de Triomphe. Even before that, it can kind of be seen in the city itself with a lot of the architecture. Unlike New York, Paris never seems to bend too much to modernity and excessiveness. Instead feeling more timeless and with just what is needed.

Third day is where the history really amps up, especially with the Crypte Archaelogique where the Roman roots of Paris, Lutetia, are shown off. In fact, the second and third day show off something I wasn’t expecting from Paris: prevalent Greco-Roman imagery. From ferocious lion sculptures, to cute little putto, to Napoleon cosplaying his waifu Julius Caesar, what Paris was still shows even if it’s not the original. I feel like most of it came up during the Renaissance, yet it’s still a very close callback to Lutetia.

We even see a shift in purpose such as with the amphitheater, which was originally a place for Romans to watch in amusement as lions disemboweled and devoured Christians in a horrifically agonizing death that meant the loss of beloved family to some and malicious entertainment to the uncaring others.

It is now a place for kids to play football.

The third day is also my favorite so far because it took us to Luxembourg (AKA, my new favorite place.) There’s a point being driven home in class about how Paris doesn’t really engage in rush and hustle culture and takes time to live. That’s best on display in the expansive and lucious park.

I went back and - in an unexpected occurrence - had a conversation with a Parisian artist on exhibit. Rui Prazeres’ exhibit Paradis Artificiel des Reves Cellulaire metamorphoses draws from biology and is on display until July 10. I managed to meet him in the exhibit and have a conversation about his work and art in general. I thanked him for his patience with me since I didn’t understand French, and he thanked me for my patience since he didn’t understand some of the concepts I was trying to talk about.

Also, sorry if this doesn’t look right. Tumblr decided it hates me.

[jechristine]

Honestly this might be terrible of me to say but I hope T doesn’t go to the Oscars or the MET. Z goes to these things consistently (mostly but not only) because she’s a fashion IT girl. But T going especially right now when he has nothing to promote and isn’t known to do those kind of appearances without a reason is just more reasons for all the losers online to hate for no reason! I know they’re adults and celebs and their teams will do what they see fit but after this whole rachel zegler fiasco I just see everyone looking foolish.. the academy, the star and the teams behind it all. These award shows and galas etc are all so dated and so not relevant anymore that other than the few fashion it people (like Z) it really doesn’t hold any meaning! (Not to mention T has to get his whole hair situation sorted out before I see him on a red carpet again but that’s a whole other discussion lol)

I hear you but I think maybe this comment is lacking some perspective.

The Oscars are absolutely still relevant in Tom & Zendaya’s industry and within the gp although probably among a demographic that skews (significantly) older than most of T&Z’s fan bases. There are only a few yearly events that still qualify as must see TV—events that pull a live audience—and so this event is still a big deal, still a coveted invite, and by the way really valuable to advertisers.

The thing Tom Holland has to promote is himself and his brand. And maybe the NWH for the fan favorite award? If people drag Tom for attending the Oscars they have truly lost the plot. I’m sure some have, and I’d advise you all to unfollow and block! (I do acknowledge for the 1000th time that he may very well have reasons for not attending! But “there’s no point” is not one lol.)

Zendaya fans, let’s not forget how important is the cultural cachet around Oscars—

Zendaya has talked about how she hustled for this moment when she herself was trying to build and expand her brand, and for reasons without and within her control, it turned out to be pivotal to her career.

And agree to disagree but Tom’s hair is looking good lately imo! I was hoping for a man bun, but he just got a cut for filming and I don’t think it’s long enough anymore🥲

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Syverson the Protector pt 5

*   Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part III  (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part IV  (pairing Syverson x YOU)

Author note: Finally part 5! Thank you so much for hanging in with me through this delightful journey and I hope that this part quenches your desire.

Summary:  Henry has invited you to spend a few weeks at his cabin in the mountains and of course you agree. 💖NEW💖

Rating for this part:  Sex, fluff, discussion of trauma (minor) Everyone has a good time and Aika is there too :)

I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D

Must be read in order, no part can stand alone.

Word count: 7500

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

‘Well,’ said your nurse as she watched you sort and pack your belongings. ‘If you want him to know how you feel, you have to tell him.’ 

She folded her arms and leaned against the narrow door frame to your hospital room. You glanced up at her. 

‘I’m not twelve, Barb,’ you scoffed, nevertheless feeling pleased with her observation.

‘Well you were the one asking me to pass notes to him like you were in school.’ 

You raised your brows in surprise and then pointed an accusatory finger at her. You had resorted to note passing because you couldn’t see Henry face to face and communicate with him like an adult. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you made it work. 

‘You, Nurse Barb,’ you started, about to say something caustic and then relented, deciding to be sweet. ‘Did a great job passing notes, and I thank you.’ 

You flipped closed your small travel case and crossed the hospital room to grab at one of the slowly deflating helium ‘Get Well’ balloons which still listed lazily around the silver weight that held it in place. With a small pair of scissors, you cut the ribbon tether and lanced the mylar in an inconspicuous place. Pressing the balloon to your chest, you squeezed out the remainder of the helium air mix and added the now flat balloon to the pile of other flattened balloons. 

‘So? Then what are you going to do about it?’ Barb continued to press.  ‘Leave and regret never having said anything?’’

You stopped compacting the pile of deflated balloons and turned to look at her. 

This whole budding romance thing between two war torn lovers must have been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to the nurse, you thought pleasantly. It was certainly exciting to you. So, you cut her some slack. 

‘I just happen to know that he’s outside in the pool area right now. And, you have some time before your flight.’ 

The look on her face was both encouraging and infuriating. 

Smiling, you walked to the door and patted Barb’s shoulder. 

‘All right. I’ll go.’

She waggled her brows, turned and walked with you down the narrow corridor and then through the half-empty dayroom. She stopped at the double glass doors that led to the pool area and used her weight to press open one side.

‘I can’t tell if you’re a really good matchmaker or a really bad matchmaker,’ you said absently. 

She shrugged.  

‘Good luck, and don’t be too hard on him.’ 

‘I won’t. Well, I probably won’t. Well...I can’t promise.’ 

She chuckled and quickly gave you a one-armed hug. 

‘I’ll have them bring your bags to the car when it turns up. There are a few people going to the airport with you. So if I don’t see you… keep in touch, ok?’

You nodded and walked through the open door. 

The pool area, as they called it, was really just a collection of beach umbrellas shading colourful inflatable kiddie pools, some blowup flamingos, and an odd assortment of mismatched lawn chairs. There were several men camped out around most of the medium sized pools, with their feet in the water and enjoying each other’s company. You spotted Henry right off the bat, as he was the only one still in a wheelchair and paused a moment to watch him laugh at something the man next to him had just said. You were loath to interrupt them. 

I’ll just leave a note, you thought, turning your back to the men in order to return to the day room. He won’t mind. I’ll leave a note and my business card so he won’t feel pressured to say anything to my face.

A little lost in thought, you lingered there for a moment, with your hand on the door handle when your thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of teasing male voices calling out your name, accompanied by whistles and several coquettish sounding ‘yoo-hoo!’s. 

A wave of heat rushed into your face and you hunched your shoulders in a self-conscious cringe. 

Jesus Christ you hated military men sometimes.

 But you had been caught and you had no other choice but to turn around and face them. 

One of the men kicked out the empty lawn chair closest to Syverson and waved you over. Taking the invitation, you drew the chair close to the circle, lightly rested your hand on Henry’s shoulder and sat down next to him. It was good to see him looking so well. 

‘I read your new article,’ said the man, and by deciphering his medical wristband you learned he was called Solensky. ‘That was a damn brave thing you did.’ 

You shook your head and looked at Syverson, hoping that he didn’t think you were trying to steal glory.

‘I didn’t write it to showcase what I did. I had to tell people what really happened. How heroic the men were. And my partner. The sacrifices that they all made. What I did wasn’t important.’

‘Saving my life wasn’t important?’ 

Syverson sounded a little bit hurt and turning to him you were at a loss to read his suddenly cloudy expression. 

You opened your mouth to protest. 

‘I-- I didn’t mean that you… of course you are important. I just did what I had to.’

You held his incredulous gaze and continued, ‘you know that, Henry.’

Didn’t he believe you?

‘He don’t mean it like that,’ said Solensky. ‘He means that, you doing what you did, was important. Even if you don’t think it was.’ 

Henry obviously agreed with the man’s assessment, for a smile lifted the corner of his mouth and you cut a relieved and fondly exasperated  look at him. Sitting back in the creaky lawn chair you kicked your feet out in front of you and rested them against the cushy rounded pool edge. 

‘Thank you,’ you said finally and nodded to Solensky. ‘I had hoped to get it finished and published before I left.’ 

It felt good to hear some praise from the men you were trying to uplift. 

‘You leaving soon?’ he asked. 

‘Yes. Today. In a few hours in fact.’

You turned to face Henry again. 

‘I wanted to say goodbye before I did.’ 

His face remained unreadable and you feared that you had upset him in some way.

The door to the dayroom opened and Barb called to you. 

‘The car is here early. They have to do more stops, so you’ll have to leave now, I’m sorry.’

You shot Syverson a panicked look. 

Now? But you didn’t say all you wanted to say. You didn’t have time!

‘Ok,’ Henry said finally. ‘You don’t want to keep them waiting or they’re gonna have you walking home.’ 

He pressed himself up and out of the wheelchair and breathing a little hard from the exertion, he faced you when you stood as well.

‘I’m in your debt. Whenever you need me, for whatever reason, I want you to call on me. It don’t matter, you got that?’

‘I got it,’ you answered, feeling a deep pang of agony and regret in your gut. Leaving was harder than you had expected. 

Henry smiled then and curving his arms around you, he pulled you against his sun warmed body. 

And what torture it was for him to hold you like that! 

You put your head on his chest and embraced him in return. And, when you lifted your teary eyes, he leaned in and  kissed your forehead. But that wasn’t good enough. Not nearly enough and you squeezed him when his lips met yours. 

‘Ok… ok,’ you giggled, feeling hot faced and aroused. ‘You gotta stop that or I won’t be able to leave.’ 

He didn’t release you. 

‘You can stay and come home with me,’ he said, moving in for another kiss. 

You ducked your head and stepped out of his embrace. 

‘If you behave, maybe I will.’ 

Barb cleared her throat, a signal that you were out of time, and kissing him quickly, you turned to leave. 

‘Barb’ll give you my card. It’ll have my info on it.’

‘I will?’ she asked, glaring at you and then at him. ‘Boy, I’ll be glad when you leave and I can stop all of this note ferrying back and forth.’ 

‘See ya,’ said Henry. 

‘Soon,’ you promised and went through the day room doors. 

**

It had been six months. Six months of convalescing at home, writing columns and binge watching all of the television shows you missed while you were deployed. It had also been a pleasant six months of regular correspondence with Henry, which culminated in him asking you to come to the mountains with him for a few weeks. He had a little cabin in Montana which he had been renovating and now that Aika was finished with her mandatory quarantine in the States, he was going to go there and relax. 

A few weeks in the fresh mountain air was just what you needed and once you agreed, he made and paid for your travel arrangements. 

 **

It was refreshingly cool when you shuffled into the noise and chaos of the airport arrival terminal on your way to the baggage claim. However, you walked a little more leisurely than the hustling crowd, taking in the sights and idly people watching. As a journalist, although you had trekked through more airports than you cared to count, the peculiar culture of tiny, and expensive indoor pseudo-cities like this was still so compelling. It wouldn’t be strange to see a bleary eyed man chowing down on a stacked burger and swilling his third bourbon on the rocks at 6:30 in the morning. Or seeing a grown woman tucked into an awkward corner, and clutching her carry-on bag protectively in front of her as she tried to catch some sleep during an unexpected flight delay.

You had been both of those people at one point or another in your travels. But there was another reason why you were strolling and taking your time examining the mass produced keychains and tee shirts proclaiming the name of the state you were in. You were nervous and your heart banged painfully against your ribs. You could feel it galloping and straining against its internal tethers and you had to stop occasionally and pretend to look at overpriced pizza slices in order to catch your breath.

You were nervous about seeing him again. That sweet, unfairly handsome Captain Henry Syverson.

The thought of him made you smile but you pressed it into a straight neutral line in the event someone was watching. You didn’t want to seem crazy, grinning down at a display case of heat-lamp warmed slices of cheese pizza. 

When you finally reached baggage claim, a man, dressed in a dark suit and white shirt was waiting for you. He stood  with the rest of the chauffeurs looking bored and holding an open tablet on which your name stood out in bold block letters on the screen. You walked expectantly up to him and he smiled and greeted you by name.

‘How was your trip?’ he asked, as he walked  with you to the baggage carousel.

‘It was fine, thank you.’

And the two of you stood side by side watching the conveyor belt start to move and roll out the luggage.

‘Which one is yours?’ he asked, moving closer to the belt, ready to snag your bag as it tumbled by.

‘The red one, with the white stripe. It has the camera shaped luggage tag.’

He nodded and when that red bag came by, he grabbed it by the side handle. He then put it down, pulled up the telescoped handle and indicated that you follow him to the parking lot. Outside, the cool air woke you from your flight induced stupor and you took in a long cleansing breath. 

‘First time in Montana?’ he asked, grinning as he watched you stretch your arms and back. 

‘Just tired,’ you said. ‘Long flight.’ 

He opened the door to the glossy black SUV and helped you step up into the high spotless interior. Through the back window you watched him stow your suitcase in the trunk and followed him with your eyes until he climbed into the truck.

‘So,’ he said and fiddled with his tablet. ‘It’s going to take a little while to get to the destination. Is it warm enough for you? Too warm? There are snacks in the centre console and water under the seat. Do you mind if I have the radio on?’

The questions seemed rehearsed and you assured him that everything was fine before you sat back into the plush leather seats and he drove off.

Taking out your mobile, you switched it off of airplane mode and it immediately pinged that you had a message.

Making sure you landed safely.

You smiled and replied that you had done just that and were already on your way.

I’ll be waiting. I hope you’re hungry.

The driver was right. It took two and a half hours to get to the cabin and the last mile or so was on a dirt road so pitted and bumpy that you weren’t sure you were going to come out of the ride in one piece.

But it was all made better when you spotted Henry standing with Aika on the broad porch of a gorgeous mountain cabin. When he said that he wanted you to spend time with him at the cabin, you immediately pictured it to be a one or two room Little House on the Prairie type place. Which was absolutely fine with you, as you wouldn’t be there to admire the decor. However, you were not expecting the beautiful structure that stood proudly amongst the trees.

The driver slowed, made an awkward k-turn in the dirt and deposited you directly in front of the tall man approaching the truck.

The sight of Henry made you feel weak and proud to show the driver that you had been chosen by a superior specimen. Henry briefly spoke to the driver through his open window and the trunk popped open. With hands clasped in your lap, you waited. Henry grabbed your suitcase, slammed shut the trunk and then opened your door. He positively beamed at you and when you took his outstretched hand, you felt like a princess being rescued from a high tower.

When the SUV made its way back down the dirt road and the two of you were finally alone, you were faced with one of two decisions.

One: behave in your usual awkward way and shake his hand or pat his shoulder and thank him for letting you come and visit.

Or

Two: press into his arms and give him the biggest hello I fucking missed you, kiss he’d ever received.

With some internal dismay, you found yourself leaning towards option one. You didn’t want to lead him to the wrong impression about you and slowly you extended your hand.

A look of surprise drifted across his face, but he was apparently willing to follow your lead. Before he could take that hand, you had a change of heart and instead ran straight at him and clamped your arms about his waist.

‘Hey, baby,’ he murmured, kissing the top of your head and enveloping you in his strong arms.

Oh God, you thought. I’m gonna start crying.

Tears pricked your eyes and before you could stop yourself, you heaved with a desperate sob.

‘What’s the matter?!’ he asked, sounding alarmed with the sudden change in your attitude.

You clutched him tighter and put your face against him.

‘I’m… I’m so happy to see you standing right here,’ you gasped.

The last time you’d seen him in the flesh, he had still been mostly confined to a wheelchair, still healing from his terrible wounds and unable to look after himself. But there he was now, strong and whole and so warm in your arms that you felt an overwhelming sense of affection for him. 

Henry held you tighter and you felt infinitely safe in his embrace. Everything was right with the world. 

‘I thought about the moment I could do this,’ he said, gently stroking your back. ‘And now I made you cry.’

‘I’m just so happy to see you well,’ you said, pulling back and looking at his wryly smiling face. ‘And not hooked up to wires and IVs.’

‘Ok,’ he drawled. ‘Me too. In that case…’

He curved one hand about your cheek and lifting your face, he kissed you. It took a few more moments of cuddling before you eventually stopped trembling and having an existential crisis. He drew back, bent down and picked up your bag. 

‘You hungry?’ he asked, slipping his hand down to your lower back and guiding you to the glorious cabin. 

‘Famished!’ you announced and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. 

The dog on the porch sat up and wriggled with pleasure, her thick furry tail whapping excitedly on the wooden boards. 

Henry dragged his fingers through the thick brown and black scruff and scratched her angular head. The dog bowed and flattened her ears softly and approached you. You put both hands on her head and massaged her fluffy ears. 

‘I remember you,’ you said to the dog who continued to eagerly lick at your hands.

‘This place is different than where she’s from, but she loves it.’ 

Then to Aika he said, ‘stay on the porch.’

And the dog promptly flopped down on the cushiony bed made from folded quilts and began her surveillance of the surrounding tranquil woods. 

Henry opened the cabin door and ushered you in. 

The inside was just as spectacular as the outside and your mouth came open with surprise. 

‘I know you did all of this, didn’t you. It’s so… beautiful.’

‘I had help,’ he answered modestly. ‘It’s been a work in progress for years. Still got some things to do, but it’s liveable.’

Liveable, you scoffed silently. That was an understatement. The place was an obviously handcrafted masterpiece. From the matte blonde wood flooring and the warm caramel panelling, it was a masculine tribute to a rustic lifestyle. The appliances were new, but understatedly retro and wood burning. The main living room was broad and comfortable with soft couches and homespun appointments. You followed Henry down a narrow hallway to the left. Off of that hallway was a short staircase that led to the upper floor. 

‘There’s a guest bedroom down there,’ he said pointing to the door at the end of the corridor and the master is upstairs.’

He gestured that you go up the stairs and you complied. Opening the door at the top of the stairs, you found yourself walking into a bright warm room with a large bed facing a broad clean window that overlooked the trees and the lake behind the cabin. It smelt of pine and you wondered if he picked that scent because he thought you might like it. You did like it. 

Henry put your bag on the floor by the bed. 

‘This is your room.’ 

He rested a hand on the glossy dresser top which had been pushed against the far wall. 

‘You can put your stuff in here, or hang them up in the closet.’ 

He opened the door next to the dresser to show you the empty closet space. 

‘Bathroom’s over here.’ 

He crossed the room, opened the second door and you poked your head in, pleased to see a full bath and tub.

That tub might come in handy for sexytimes. 

Once the tour was completed you smiled at him, but left the question of where he was going to stay to burn on the tip of your tongue. 

It didn’t stay there long for Henry beat you to it. 

‘I’ll be downstairs… in the guest room.’ 

There was hesitation in his voice and he trailed off seeming suddenly shy and awkward. 

Was he as nervous about your visit as you were?

 He didn’t look at you as he put a hand against the back of his head, which you knew  was an unconscious self-soothing gesture. But you didn’t want to put him out of his misery just yet. You were enjoying it too much. 

‘If… when you need me,’ he finished.  

The implication of needing him, at night, hung heavily in the air and trailing a finger up his bare forearm, you squashed a smile. 

‘And you’ll be downstairs…’ you said, keeping your voice serious and your expression neutral. ‘If… I mean when I need you. You’ll be downstairs? In the guest bedroom? Downstairs?’

He looked at you a moment, his own expression a mild mix of confusion and then that sweet slow bloom of understanding in his eyes. You saw the exact moment that he realised you were teasing him and you couldn’t help laughing. 

‘C’mon you,’ you said, slipping your hand into his. ‘I’m starving.’ 

***

Once downstairs, he packed a big red-topped cooler with vegetables and potatoes and steaks that had been marinating overnight, as well as cutlery, plates and other sundry items. Carrying only a chilled six pack of bottled lager, you followed him down the winding gravel path to the lake. There was a rustic firepit down there flanked by two dark wood adirondack chairs and a picnic table. 

You wondered if he made all of that himself and then chuckled. Of course he did.

 You watched him dump the cooler next to the grated firepit and go to grab a few already split logs from a nearby pile. Clutching the thin cardboard handle of the sixpack in both hands you felt unbearably girly and unwilling to admit that watching him start a fire with a small pile of tinder and a magnesium firestick, aroused the fuck out of you. It didn’t help that his jeans stretched nicely across his thighs when he crouched lower and gently blew onto the young flame before quickly adding additional fuel until the fire was stable enough to tent the logs over it. 

Henry rose and dusted his hands against the seat of his jeans and you cleared your throat. 

‘That was sexy,’ you said and laughed at your own audacity. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly appreciative of your praise, but instead of addressing it, he pointed to the short pier. 

‘Do you see the green nylon sack over there?’

You looked and nodded. 

‘Take the bottles and put ‘em in the sack and lower it into the water. That’ll keep ‘em cold.’ 

Feeling helpful, you did as you were told. When you returned a few minutes later, you hoisted yourself up onto the top of the picnic table and rested your feet on the bench seat.

‘Do you want some help?’ you asked after a moment. 

‘Nope,’ he answered, and cast another amused look at you over his shoulder. ‘You just sit there and be pretty for me, ok?’

You preened, and lightly patted your face. It was as pretty as you were going to get. 

‘I think I can do that. Sure.’ 

And you sat there thinking about having children with him. You imagined taking them on camping trips and teaching them all of the survival skills they needed to fend for themselves in the event the zombie apocalypse drove your family into the woods. So you asked him if he was prepared for the apocalypse and sat there rapt as he explained his six point plan and how he had been planning and storing for the last three years. 

When dinner was ready, the two of you ate at the picnic table and drank most of the beer and discussed the pros and cons of wasting ammo to achieve a head shot as opposed to just disabling the zombie so that you could escape it. 

‘Yeah, but you are the one who’s gonna get the successful headshots. I’m just out there swinging a rake or something.’ 

‘Can get you a katana if you like.’

You laughed and swigged your beer. Pointing the mouth of the bottle at him you scoffed. 

‘A katana?? I’d more likely slice myself up before I’d do any damage to a zombie.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Henry replied easily and stood up to stoke the fire. 

He helped himself to another few spoonfuls of vegetables, which when offered, you declined. 

‘A little training and some practice, you’d be fine.’ 

‘You have a lot of misplaced faith in me, sir,’ you teased him. 

Henry was quick to answer. 

‘You’re wrong. You already proved to be capable, ingenious and tougher than you think. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.’

Your chest tightened at the traumatic  memory and you stared down at your empty bottle.  The helpless tears started to threaten again. 

But biting them back, you reached across the table and put your hand over his. Henry took it, curved your fingers over his and brought your hand to his lips.

Henry’s open emotion made you feel just as raw and vulnerable as you had that fateful day. The day that entwined your lives together forever. 

You reached for him with your other hand and stroked his cheek, trailing your fingers through his beard which continued to amaze you with how soft it was to touch. He captured your other hand and kissed that one as well and then held them both. And when he smiled, you smiled in return. It was all right now. 

It was starting to get dark and across the lake,  you could see the setting sun disappearing behind the mountains. Henry got up and began clearing the table. 

 ‘ Go and sit by the fire,’ he instructed you when you tried to help. 

If he wanted to do all of the work, who were you to stop him. You slid onto the cool chair and drew your knees up and to the side to get comfortable just as Aika came trotting out of the woods. She went immediately to you and put her slobbery chin on your thigh. You rubbed her furry head until she was tired of the attention and went to beg scraps from Henry. 

‘Coffee?’ he asked a moment later and lifted an old battered tin percolator to show you that he meant coffee and not anything else. 

‘I could have one, sure.’ 

You had got used to black coffee during your time on the front and really never bothered to change it when you went back to civilian life. The cup he gave you was hot and tasted fresh with a hint of vanilla. 

‘Vanilla,’ you said and he chuckled, seating himself in the chair next to you. 

‘I ah… I got used to it over there, now I can’t drink any other kind.’ 

You didn’t mind it. Not at all and the two of you sat in companionable silence. 

‘It’s a beautiful place, Henry. A beautiful cabin. I am amazed that you did all of this.’

‘My friends helped. This is their place when they want it too.’

Aika flopped down on the space between the chairs and Henry reached down to pat her head. 

‘Are you glad I’m here?’ you asked finally, admittedly fishing a little for compliments. 

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m very glad you’re here.’ 

You were going to say something else but a yawn caught you off guard. Now that you were full and content and safe, sleepiness began to creep in around the corners. 

‘You had a long flight,’ Henry offered as explanation, holding out his hand to take your cup. ‘If you want to go on in to sleep, I’ll take care of things here out here.’ 

‘No! No, I don’t want to leave. I’m not too sleepy.’ 

‘Awright,’ he chuckled and leaned back into the chair. 

Aika yawned then and you did the same. You put the cup on the flat arm of the chair and closed your eyes. You had never felt so happy and before you knew it, you had drifted off. When you woke with a start later, it was dark and the fire had been extinguished. A glimmer of faint stars reflected by the lake was your only anchor point that confirmed where you were. 

But it was the type of dark that could only be achieved when there was no light pollution from nearby cities and you felt a twinge of panic. 

‘Henry?’ you called sitting up. 

He wasn’t in the chair next to you and Aika was gone. 

Shit! What if the killer was still out there?

You heard footsteps approaching on the gravel path. 

‘I’m here.’ 

His voice was warm and steady. 

There was no moon and standing, you blindly searched in front of you as he came closer. He put his hand around you, resting it low on your back then pulled you to him. At his touch, a jolt of welcomed pleasure spread out from your core. 

‘Why are you out here lurking in the dark?’ you giggled softly, pressing your hands flat on his chest.

‘Making sure nothing carries you off,’ he replied just as quietly and gave you a squeeze. 

Henry was clearly feeling for the edges of your boundaries and you deeply appreciated that about him. He hadn’t forced your hand and he was eagerly playing by your rules. 

‘I’m glad to have my big strong protector to save me from the monsters. Are you… gonna take me inside now?’

‘Yeah. C’mon.’ 

God, his voice was so unbearably soft and alluring and you knew that if you weren’t careful, you would find yourself beneath him in his bed tonight. 

You had to be careful, so once inside the cabin, you kissed him and bade him goodnight. Admittedly, that probably wasn’t how he expected the evening to end but you knew you were going to make the wait worth his while.

After showering thoroughly, you changed your clothes and sat down on the edge of the soft bed. The cabin was quiet except for the normal sounds of the woods coming in through the open window and the sounds of Henry moving around downstairs. 

I could get used to this. 

After a moment you heard the shower running downstairs and you immediately worried that you hadn’t left enough hot water for him. Stretching out on top of the quilt you listened and imagined his naked body, his wet, soapy naked body and a tingle raced up your thighs and pooled insistent heat in your groin. You bit your lip and pushed your hand between your legs. You held your hand there, still and unmoving and listened until everything had fallen silent on the lower floor.  

You breathed quietly, in and out and in and out again and relaxed, drawing your hand away and tucking it across your midsection. 

Sleep, you thought. It was all going to be more rational in the morning. 

**

Bright sunlight and sweet bird songs greeted you the next morning. After washing up, you followed the scent of coffee and breakfast downstairs. 

The front room was empty, but there was food and a still steaming coffee pot on the stove. The sound of Aika barking outside led you to the door and then out onto the porch. Henry stood at the bottom of the steps holding a red ball which he launched into the air for the dog to chase. He turned when you came to stand next to him. 

‘Morning,’ he grinned and kissed you when you lifted your face to ask for it. 

‘Hi. How did you sleep?’

‘Yeah, good, good. You?’

You stretched in the warm morning sunlight and fondly watched Aika race back to you. She dropped the ball and danced away, to wait for the next missile. Henry obliged and the dog took off again. 

‘It was better than I expected,’ you admitted happily. ‘It usually takes me a couple of nights before I can get comfortable in a new place.’ 

He nodded and took a drink from his flowered cup. 

‘Good. Hungry?’

‘I love that you’re always feeding me,’ you said joyfully. ‘Can we eat down by the lake?’

‘Anything you want, baby,’ he agreed. 

The air by the lake was warm and fresh and a few metres out on the water was a group of ducks having a morning swim. Basking in the sun with a hearty meal and an intriguing and funny man was the most indulgent thing you could have possibly done. And you held onto the moment for as long as it presented itself. 

You even agreed to a short easy hike after breakfast and in a sun drenched meadow you lay in the sweet smelling grass and talked about nothing in particular. 

The day passed in uneventful bliss and again, Henry prepared dinner over the fire and afterwards the two of you sat side by side on the top porch step to watch some unexpected fireworks in the eastern sky. 

During a lull in the colourful explosions, you went inside to grab a seat cushion.

When you came onto the porch, you were careful not to kick the cup at Henry’s side. Instead you picked up your own cup and gesturing for him to make room, you tossed down the cushion and sat on the step right between his knees. A little smile blossomed on your face, a response to the feeling of peace spreading through you, and you leaned back against Henry using his thighs as arm rests.

‘I like this,’ you said quietly and relaxed into the warm hands gently kneading your shoulders. 

‘Yeah.’

The sound of him, low and husky behind you, filled you with pleasure. You pressed harder between his open legs and he went still. This was the moment of truth.  Your heart thrummed with anticipation against your ribs and when he relaxed, so did you. 

A beat of silence drifted between you and then he spoke. 

‘You wanna go inside with me?’

There was a loud scratching sound of your nails raking along his jeans, evidence of your involuntary reaction to his clear invitation. 

‘Yes. I-- want to.’ 

The breath he let out was audible. 

‘C’mon then.’ 

Henry pushed himself up from the step and effortlessly lifted you in the process. It was like floating on air, reckless yet safe in his strong arms and when your feet finally hit the porch, you were loath to be released. You turned around to face him and slid your arms about his neck. The force of his kiss surprised you, and you clung tighter to him, opening your mouth to take all of him in. Henry pulled you against him and walked backwards towards the cabin door. 

You cried out with delight when he crouched and swept you up into his arms. Just like the charming prince he touted himself to be. 

‘I love this,’ you murmured, nipping at his lower lip and then suckling it between your own. ‘Why don’t you fuck me in your bed.’

‘Fuck,’ he groaned and clutched you to his chest. ‘You’re gonna drive me crazy, baby.’ 

‘I promise I’ll drive you crazy.’ 

Henry didn’t waste time in carrying you to the small bedroom at the end of the hall.  

His room was clean, and quiet. Not as fancy as the master bedroom, but it was  enough with its bed and bureau and the small adjoining shower. Aika, who had been napping on the floor at the foot of the bed perked up and cautiously thumped her tail as if wondering why the hell the two humans were making so much noise. 

‘Aika,’ said Henry desperately. ‘Out!’

With a groan of a petulant child, the dog heaved herself up and reluctantly left the room. Henry booted the door shut behind her and then set you down onto your feet. There was enough gloaming light coming in through the windows for you to see him grin. 

He cupped your face between his hands and kissed you gently, thoroughly and then let his fingers trail down over your shoulders, your arms and then across your waist where he curled his fingers beneath the hem of your baggy tee shirt. Instinctively you raised your arms when he lifted the shirt up and over your head. He tossed the shirt onto the chair in the corner. He then  turned you around and unhooked your bra which was also tossed to join the shirt. And still keeping your back to him, he kissed your shoulder and then the other and then kissed the space between them. The light scratch of his beard on such an unexpectedly tender place made you shiver and your nipples harden. He hummed quietly, a sound of absolute satisfaction and he nipped you lightly where your shoulder sloped down to your collarbone. You sighed voluptuously and leaned into his muscular chest, turning your upper body slightly and reaching back to smooth your hand over his head. 

Henry slipped his hands up from your waist and cupped your bare breasts and kissed you deeply as if trying to drink in every bit of you. You felt utterly possessed, and helpless in the face of his overwhelmingly masculine sexual power. You would give him everything, anything and all he had to do was ask. 

He slid his hands down your belly again and into the elastic waistband of your shorts. He eased them over your hips and chased your curves to the warm, velvety space between your legs. Highly aware of his two thick fingers beginning to work into your wetness you arched and moaned breathlessly, your voice rising sweetly into the warmth of the room. A dark knowing chuckle rumbled behind you and Henry dragged his tongue across your lower lip. 

All of your attention narrowed to that single delicious focal point of those deft fingers stroking your quivering clit and sliding deeper inside you. 

‘I want you,’ Henry murmured and the demand behind his words made you shudder. ‘I want you so bad.’ 

Yes, you thought. I want you. The moment I met you, I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.

You turned in his arms and a wave of lust crashed over you at the sight of him. He slipped those two previous busy fingers into his mouth and sucked off your juice. You crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer as you backed towards the bed. Henry whipped off his shirt and took his time unbuckling his belt and shoving down his jeans until he could stand beautifully naked before you, his thick beautiful cock hard and standing at the ready. 

You were ready for him indeed. Henry closed the space between you and grabbing you about the waist, he hoisted you up and sprawled you messily across the bed. You sat up, reached for him and dragged him down atop you. He was heavy, and pressed you steadily into the soft sheets and you never wanted to escape him. Henry kissed you hard, punishingly, muffling your sudden cry of pleasure with his mouth. You hugged and kissed him and swore under your breath, eager for the soft velvety feel of his  blood-hot cock sliding up along your inner thigh. 

‘Come inside me, Henry.’ 

It was all the invitation he needed. 

The newness of him sliding into you hurt just a little, a small but  welcomed reminder of what it meant when two lovers finally joined. Henry stilled then, and breathed quietly, as if fighting his urge to cum. You stroked his shoulders and kissed his face, encouraging him to focus only on you. He lifted his head and held your gaze as he rocked up into you again, then again, slowly and deliberately, stoking that fire smouldering between the two of you. You arched against him, vaguely aware of your own lusty sounds and Henry increased the intensity of his thrusts and in turn heightened the ferocity of your pleasure.

Henry lit your fuse and it consumed you. It crackled over your sensitive flesh and along every nerve ending and you responded eagerly to every slow drag of his cock in and out of you.  He made you feel alive, more alive than ever before and at the moment of your orgasm you closed your eyes and let his name escape your lips, offering it up as a prayer, as praise. As thanks. 

You held onto him when he finally completed the circuit and poured himself inside you. 

It took several moments of panting beneath him before Henry moved off of you and you immediately felt the loss. So you lay there, sweat cooling on your skin and basking in the warm feelings of well being. When your senses returned, you got up and went to the bathroom for  a quick pee and wash up and when you returned, the bed was turned down and you crawled gratefully beneath the soft sheets. 

‘That was fucking amazing,’ you murmured to the man next to you. ‘That was the best sex I have ever had.’ 

Henry chuckled and sounded pleased. 

‘Yeah. I waited a long time for you.’ 

‘Oh yeah? The moment I put my hand in yours outside of the barracks, you what? Wanted to carry me off to fuck me?’

He grunted. 

‘Yeah! Something like that. I would’ve at least got your name first, /then/ put you over my shoulder and carried you off.’ 

You smiled to yourself and imagined the scene and how shocked the men would have been to watch their stoic captain haul off the journalist for a little fun. You closed your eyes, only intending to get more comfortable to continue the conversation. However, again sleep had other ideas. 

Light burst behind your eyelids and the sound of shouting male voices filled your ears. You struggled to open your eyes, but something was holding them sealed shut. Another explosion and then the sound of rocks raining down all around you. I’m on fire, you thought, desperately trying to claw your way out of burning clothes. Your hands were already seared into talons of fused flesh and bone and there was nothing you could do to stop the pain. Sand blasted your vulnerable flesh and you opened your mouth to scream, only to be choked by tiny merciless shards of hot glass. You continued to scream and scream barely aware of the hands on your arms and the voice calling you name. It was Henry and he was shaking you out of your nightmare. 

‘You’re all right, baby. You’re all right,’ he murmured pulling you against him. ‘It’s just a nightmare. You’re all right now. I’m here.’ 

As the dream melted away, you curled up into his arms and burst into tears. Henry gentled you until you quieted and even beyond that until eventually you were able to speak. 

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry…’ 

‘Don’t be sorry, baby,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t be. I’m here. I’ll protect you.’ 

You lifted your tear wet face and kissed him. Then again and again, rolling onto your back and pulling him with you. 

‘Make love to me, Henry. Please. Make love to me.’

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he promised.

And you trusted him to do just that. 

**

The morning rain kept the two of you inside the snug cabin and in bed where you took your time exploring and delighting in the mystery of each other. 

‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, pulling back the sheets and stroking your fingers along the thick jagged scar that cut across his lower belly.  

Henry looked down at where you were touching him and shook his head. 

‘No. Not anymore.’ 

You fell silent, listening to the rasp of your dry fingers gliding across his skin. Henry curled an arm about you when you put your head on his shoulder. 

‘You never went to talk to someone about it, did you.’ 

It wasn’t a question and as much as you wanted to feign ignorance, you couldn’t shut down your immediate and visceral reaction to his observation. 

No. You had buried yourself in work the moment you got back to the States and didn’t want to think about the trauma that had befallen you. What was the point? It was over, wasn’t it?

Henry felt your body tense and he rubbed your back. 

‘That’s why you’re still having nightmares.’ 

Your voice was small when you spoke, hoping to be heard against the lashing rain. 

‘I thought I could handle it.’ 

He chuckled. 

‘I know. I thought I could handle it too. They don’t let us go home without group therapy. I fucking hate it, but I do it, because it works.’ 

You stopped the back and forth motion of your hand and just rested it on his scar. It was the thing that drew you together, the thing that reminded him of you.

Henry turned his head and kissed your forehead. 

‘You’re so strong. And you’re carrying this weight. But you gotta let it go, baby.’  

‘I know. I… dream about you dying in the explosion and then burning to death. I can’t stop it. I can’t help you.’

Henry held you close. 

‘You’re alive and I’m alive. I’m right here with you. You don’t have to worry when you’re with me.’

 You slept against his chest for most of the day and dreamed, not of violence in a desolate place but of a bright new future. 

-end part 5 you naughty little things. I love you ;D Please consider helping me to broaden my audience by reblogging this fic and sharing. Thank you. 

Tag list:  @lightsidecalling​​  @omgkatinka​​ @igotkatiepowers​​ @the-soot-sprite​​  @harrysthiccthighss​​ @little-green-love​​ @foxyjwls007​​  @angreav​​ @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous​​ @laketaj24​​ @october505​​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​​ @foodieforthoughts​​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​​ @singeramg​​ @sapphirescrolls​​   @brandycranby​​ @zealoushound​​ @eldarwen333​​ @beck07990​​ @lunedelorient​​ @henrythickcavill​​ @kalesrebellion​​​ @angrythingstarlight​​​ @lavitabella87 @kebabgirl67​ @hail-horror-queen​

[meirimerens]

I'm sorry if this is a weird question and its totally ok if you dont want to answer it but, if you dont mind, how did you enjoy your experience in art college? Do you have any tips or things to say to those who want to or are considering following the same path? I'm finishing high school in some months and i really dream of persuing art in the Academic's Way but everyday i fear not being able to "get a proper job" or "be a 'productive' functioning member of society" if that's what i decide to do (or even worse: Getting a job, or just getting into college, but starting to dread (making) art. I think this is what messes with me the most. I know how capitalism can make you hate your job and i dont know if i'm ready to. Idk. Go through that when it comes to art-making). I really love drawing and making art and studying and observing art and there's nothing in the world I wish to learn more about than it, but suddenly I feel so much doubt & fear & etc... again sorry if this is too personal, you definitely dont need to answer if you dont feel like it !!! hope you have a good night/morning anyway

Hello my darling i can try to answer that

long to follow:

let me start with a few things/disclaimers of sorts which weighted Quite A Lot in my ability to enjoy college and that might be wildly different where you live:

i went to an art college in France (because. i live here) and through post-highschool education without having to worry once about being in debt in my early twenties. i have no loans to pay back. i could go back to the school and get a master without needing to take one, i could decide to go to a different uni without having to worry about debt. i don't have on my back the Weight you might have, if you're American, to know you might have to reimburse thousands or tens of thousands of bucks in student loans.

another thing: i did not, and do not have still, parental pressure to Get A Job. my parents always have been insanely supportive of my desire to go to art college, and even as i now, today, am overcome with doubts and "damn i should do other studies to have a chance in the job market", they've never been like ":/ you're not gonna go very far in life with that art degree…". they want me to get a job i will Like bc they've accumulated Sucky Jobs their whole lives but they've never mocked me for my art studies path, for my desire to work in the arts/literature. they're not people who value Being A Good Capitalism Pawn And Doing A Sucky 9-5 Until You Die, which i am very thankful for, but it might not be the case for your family, your friends, your culture.

ok now that The Lore is out of the way let me keep going

our art college experiences WILL be fundamentally different unless you go to the Specific one i went in france. the functioning of that school is apparently even very different than its own neighbors within the country, so everything i say will be vastly different for you, period.

art college To Me mostly brought me four things: new ways to see, speak of, decipher, understand, and make art (so valuable); new frameworks to talk about and understand my own art and others (SO VALUABLE!); new skills (namely engraving and photography); and fantastic people to meet. if you do go to art school i Pray you meet people who are so interesting so different from you and do art in such specific ways that you will have your world rocked. to me, just these 4 things fundamentally Changed Me (for the best), and even if i get no money from it i consider that experience so anchored in me.

this is likely a Culture thing, but most of us in art school knew Damn Well we had a lot of chances to not make money with our art LOL. like the recurring joke was "étudiant en art aujourd'hui, chômeur demain" ["art student today, unemployed tomorrow"]. and it wasn't a… big deal? like it wasn't a Hustling Culture at all. number of my classmates were fucking hippies (AFFECTIONATE) LOL.

that's a lot of rambling to say that i wasn't 1) brought up in a Money-Centric family who will push me out of the house so i can go #grind and are perfectly comfortable with me taking time to build a portfolio bc covid kinda prevented me from doing that teehee 2) studying in a Money-Centric school. even if, today as i did then, i'm very much aware i might not have the Best Perspectives For A Bountiful Coin-Getting Future, i still have the ability to Go Back To School if i want without it being a sure way to get myself in thousands of bucks in debt.

our experiences Will be insanely different, so LET ME GIVE YOU A FEW TIPS THAT MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT WORK FOR YOU

connect with people. YES it's hard and harder if you're shy you're gonna have to do it.

go to any lectures or whatnot that interest you so you can 1) connect with people 2) Meet New Interesting Faces

if your school brings artists from Outside for workshops/lectures/whatnot, ask them question… look at their work… etc… some schools have Working Artists as professors so if there's one whose work you love TALK TO THEM ABOUT IT.

if something your professor says Interests you, asks them for more reading on it, more references, etc… even if you don't read em! it will 1) show them you care 2) give you more stuff to come back to if you ever DO want to read em lol.

if your school has photography/engraving/design/whatnot classes that interest you, jump on the occasion. it might Unlock something in you, and that's a skill you can market anyways.

if some students in your school decide to make a little.. school newspaper, or artists' group, or this or that, JUMP ON THE OCCASION. again, that might be a marketable skill later. you can even try to make one yourself!

in case of another covid lockdown: CHECK WHICH OF YOUR CLASSES HAVE POSSIBILITIES TO BE HAD ONLINE! a lot of art history classes can be online, but most classes where you learn a new skill With Your Hands will get fucked over if covid hit. my school relied A Lot on you Coming To It and being on your own in huge rooms and working on your own and then meet professors about it, so then covid hit, a Huge Part of the actual work you did in school got fucked over, which made my 2nd and 3rd years Not The Best. if you can, try to have a good balance of classes you can have online and classes you have in-school so you don't get Too fucked over if another plague hits.

if your school organizes like… exhibitions, or has artist calls for projects… keep an eye on em. participate if you can. i didn't participate in a lot during my own years and i'm sad about it :( don't do like me!!! actually bite life as it comes baby.

damn that's long. ok. tldr: we Will have vastly different experiences. that's unavoidable. here ^ were some tips.

from me to you + something i might abide by: if you Love art hugely, but feel like Making It for money so you can eat will make you feel like shit… well i can understand. i can empathize. at the end of my cursus, most students are kinda expected to become self-employed artists, but as you can guess… rough life. SO! if you love art but Making It For Profit fills you with dread, here are a few ideas from me:

study art history! even if you're not interested in being a professor of that (which is also A Good Thing To Be + my 1st year art history professor easily one of my favorites i've had), museums or galleries or institutions sometimes look for people who've studied that for mediation jobs (when you welcome a public and Tell Em about what they're looking at). you can study art history Broadly or focus on little things. for ex. i might decide at some point to go back to uni for a art history focus and maaaybe even prehistoric art focus.

what else. if you an artist Now try to participate in zines, or make your own even if they suck so you can put that on a resume (and again, IF you go to art school and your classmates/YOU start a little school newspaper… that shit goes in the resume!!!)

if you have any time and/or motivation, get yourself some online classes about like. adobe suite (you can pirate it honestly) or generally softwares that Art People Love. again -> marketable skill babey!!!!

i'm not sure if Any of that is valuable to you. i wish you all the best in this Bitch of a world.

[brewing-radianite]

misc. astra headcanons

-Keeps a personal diary and journal that isn’t just her own day-to-day vents, embarrassing confessions, etc.; It’s poems and questions and worries about the astral guardian life, expressions of art (doodles) and other notes jotted down that help her cope with the stress of the job as well as the genuine questions it brings. She sees a LOT. A lot more than people think she does. But she can’t get ALL her answers and certainly can’t always act on the information she knows.

-Close friends with Yoru and Sage because of this; The capacity of their powers really do transcend god-tier levels (some of them literally!) and can easily destroy parts of reality or disturb natural orders of things. 

-ex. Sage resurrects the dead but who is she to decide who can and cannot live? Is life really something that can be taken and given so easily? What consequences are there to Yoru weaving in and out of reality’s fabrics? What rules must an astral guardian follow as to not disturb the world TOO much, but still guard it just enough to keep things as they should be? 

-She likes Skye a lot too, actually, and helps her. It feels like it’s implied Skye is similar to Neon; relatively newer to her abilities and unable to tap into her absolute full potential with good control and discipline. Astra wants to try to help her. 

-Tons of love for Raze and Phoenix; I think a lot of this also comes from them sharing similar features (curly hair, for example, afro-centric physical traits) and cultures, it’s a sort of solidarity. I see a lot of people group Sage, Jett, Neon, and Yoru as friends similarly; when we see people whose beliefs or customs are a lot like ours, or who come from similar regions, we can’t help but feel right at home! Thus she loves looking out for Raze and Phoenix, hyping them up, giving them advice, helping them with their hair, sharing meals, etc. Helps her feel less homesick too.

-Loves to read, plenty of novels and mythical stories, fantastical adventures, etc. Has a collection of books like these, and wants to keep adding to it. 

-Favorite color is purple, unsurprisingly! 

-The only agent she genuinely doesn’t like is Reyna. Respects everyone, sure, and doesn’t mind that some of the people she DOES like (Raze, for example,) don’t qualm with Reyna themselves. But she herself knows what Reyna is capable of (astral guardian knowledge) and knows the beast she can and will become. Wants to nip it in the bud. 

-Cypher is a neutral case. Doesn’t hate him, doesn’t love him. Annoyed that he acts so elusive and mysterious; she knows more about him than he thinks. She has no ill intentions or malice towards him, but his whole shadow-y, secretive convict act gets annoying at times. Much respect for his work, though. He knows what he’s doing, and she respects the hustle. 

[angelicyoongie]

Oh I feel that so hard. Hustle culture never sat right with me, like just let me LIVE! I don’t want to be working 24/7, the ideal is to just chill in a cottage in the outskirts of a small town doing absolutely nothing. I don’t get the whole I gotta work all the time, like that’s the LAST thing I want to do. Work everyday until I die? No thank you.

Not to mention the whole being productive for 12 hours a day sort of stuff that study YouTubers spread. I’m so done with that stuff. Like just let me have a good, balanced routine that I can actually sustain. It’s all so destructive. I hate that whole side of the internet that spreads this sort of “lifestyle.”

Okay, mini rant done lol.

But seriously though, I hope you’re taking good care of yourself and don’t be too hard on yourself! Take rests if need be, and remember that there is more to life than work! 💕💕💕💕

Same!! There's nothing I find appealing about hustle culture. It's so crazy to me that it has become so popular and something "normal" to strive for?? Ugh, no thank you. I clock in and out on the dot, you won't find me staying a second past what I'm supposed to at work 🙅‍♀️ Yesss, the whole "the time you're spending not doing anything is wasted time" is so terrible?? I've been trying my best to channel my inner Seokjin when it comes to feeling guilty for not doing anything. Rest is rest, end of discussion!

Thank you, I'm trying my best!! 💖💖

[jeanmoreaux]

I’m quite terrified of getting older. Mentally I’m 80 years old already…but as others tell me, my life has ‘barely started’ (late 20s)

And I am so allergic to social media but it’s everywhere and impossible to ignore especially when in school or at work, because of group chats and announcements on Facebook like—why aren’t school websites more accurate and efficient, instead—we have to rely on twitter to tell us news.

I also would rather people not be allowed to use their cellphones inside classrooms to be honest, at least use it outside. I have a paranoia of getting videod or recorder without permission, and I feel awful for those it happens to (especially well-meaning people and professors and random strangers who never asked for it)

It’s this whole cycle of toxicity that’s blowing my mind and I hate it. But this is the society we live in. I wish I could just read poetry on a farm and hang out with sheep 🐑

oh i feel you!! i relate to a lot of what you're saying here. i am too in my grandma phase: i am tired of social media. i am tired of everything in our lives being so dependent on technology. i am tired of the lines between the online and offline blurring more and more. i am tired of hustle culture and having to spend most of my time working so i can afford to simply exist in this world. i am overall just.....very tired of how the state that the world is in right now. i honestly don't think we're alone with that. (doesn't necessarily make it much better to know that we're all trapped in this soul-crushing capitalist system, i guess. it's comforting to know nonetheless.). i think a bunch of people are frustrated and exhausted. i haven't found the best way to deal with all of this yet though. i am just trying to spend much of my time with people i love and things i enjoy. that's the only antidote to our fast moving culture that's currently working for me. ((and the farm dream is SO relatable. i'd love to just work in a cafe or bookshop and make enough money to live a comfortable life..... it's crazy that our society doesn't really easily allow for things like that...))

[imanes]

i don’t hate hustle culture because i’m lazy or whatever it is that brainwashed “life coaches” think i hate it because it erases class awareness and makes workers the agents of capitalism it’s like they’re saying “you are miserable because you haven’t learned to LOVE and YEARN FOR the yoke of capitalism! here are my 10 tips that will teach you how to EXPLOIT other people for YOUR OWN BENEFIT and become a CEO in 3 weeks” no thank you i don’t want to be a billionaire i want to overthrow the system that allows the hoarding of wealth by a few to the detriment of the vast majority of people. also i know everything is made up and we should be wary of calling things “real” and “fake” jobs but in the instance of life coaches i feel like i get to call that whole tomfoolery a fake job