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#until eventually we land in a realization that those golden ideals were never to be trusted and we can only decide our own feelings
reinepadova · 3 years
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To Be Seen
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‘When you like a flower, you pluck it. But when you love a flower, you water it daily.’
Stella wiped at her brow, eyes tired but concentrated, unmindful of the sweat running down her back. Her thoughts wandered as she worked, hands stained brown and black from her efforts.
Waking up to a new world, with no idea where to go, and no one to turn to, she felt lost and insecure, more so compared to back home. But in this place, this peaceful, prosperous place, its hard to blend in, to keep attention away from her unusual clothes, or the texture of her hair, compared to the natural, earthy tones of silk, or the shine of sleeked locks.
It's both a wonder and an intimidating place to be.
What could be her purpose here? How could she live?
It's only with an old woman's kindness, and a child's compassionate heart, did she slowly build a life of her own here. A small life. A quiet life. Mostly learning how to work the garden, with curious, vivacious Mei, always by her side.
She knitted her brow, carefully bundling up the shining Glaze Lilies in neat, individual wrappings, with their soil still clinging to the roots.
-{-}-
“Beautiful aren't they, dearie? But don't bother to buy any of these –“
“Hey!”
“Hush, Bolai. I just bought some Sunsettias last week.”
The boss of Wanyue Boutique sighed, whispering, “At least give me a few words of encouragement if you're not buying...”
Gran-gran turned back to her, smile full of humor, but with eyes patient and jaded. “Now, the key to a beautiful bloom, is love in every gesture. Freshly cut ones like these, can only live in the moment. But those you give warmth to every day, will last you a lifetime.”
-{-}-
Stella stretched out, grabbing at her sturdy bag with a firm tug, which acts like a blackhole at the best of times, but a bottomless pit now in the moonless night.
-{-}-
Staring at her present, Stella turned shocked eyes to the little girl holding the wide straps, an expectant shine in her wide eyes.
“Mei...isn't this... Why would you give it to me?”
Mei giggled, enjoying the rare opportunity to tease an adult.“Bàba told Mei he go to many maaany a-bentures!” she cheered, vibrating with restless energy. “Baggy is rele – relaya – rebabble. It has lots of pockets and you put food – and pretty rocks – and pretty flowers – and pictures and and, just lots he says!” Mei emphasized with a push to the bag, insistently onto startled hands, hopping back once the lady with hair that moved like waves took it hurriedly. “You go to commissies. To earn Mora for us, Gran-gran says, 'cause you feel bad. Don't feel bad no more, 'kay? Baggy is relayababble. Don't lose it, 'kay?” The little girl concluded with a beam, chest puffing proudly at being helpful.
Stella sighed quietly, and reached out to rub the little girl's head fondly in reply.
-{-}-
Stella smiled, doing a quick inspection of her precious cargo before closing her pack with a pat, stretching up while grabbing her Black Tassel in the process. She grimaced, just noticing how long she's been crouching while digging up the Glaze Lilies. As she massaged her nape with a free hand, she absently glanced around.
She knitted her brow, taking another look at the still night air, and over the disturbed earth.
Absolute silence.
Not a squeak or plop from slimes; not a hum from pesky cicins; not even the wheeze and snore from sleeping hilichurls or treasure hoarders.
Calm, she reflected, relaxing her stance a bit as she shouldered her pack. It's so quiet. It feels... unnatural.
Stella's gaze drifted. In the quiet of the evening, the abundant croplands of different hues, packed carefully in an orderly fashion, offer a cozy, picturesque atmosphere. She could picture herself perfectly, sleeping under the gentle light of the stars, with the moon's teasing glow peaking through. But her eyes turned downcast, thoughts growing dark at the scene, growing uncomfortable. Restless.
It's not something she's used to, this serenity, this peace. It's not something she dare enjoy too long.
Not after the first glimpse of this world as she awoke was at missile point.
The more she stared at the shifted soil where the Lilies were, the more her shoulders started to droop, exhaustion and the temptation of sleep finally catching up to her. It's not until a cool breeze brushed against her matted hair did she huff quietly and took a pivoted step, departing the land with a forced sprint.
Gritting her teeth, Stella powered through, alternating between a fast walk and a run, with each landing from her jumps over terrain jarring her bones, and aching muscles. But despite the fatigue, the thought of someone awaiting her return spurred her on, making her tighten her hold on the heavy pack, brows knitting in worry.
At this stage of grief, its never good to leave someone alone, Stella mused, eyes turning soft, especially one so young.
For all she knew, Mei might have startled awake in the middle of the night, loneliness fueling imagined terrors. She might get alarmed at the sight of the empty space of their bed, wondering why she's alone –
Wondering if she was left behind.
...like I was.
「... we can still proceed, Stella.」
「No. Please... no more...」
「With you. Our ideal world, will come to fruition.」
「...the price to pay if we go through with this... is far too great.」
So distracted was she by the sudden flashes of buried memories, and the worries for her charge, the sudden smack of leaves and the impact to her side made Stella see stars.
Eventually she righted herself, raising her weapon high and ready. She swung blindly, expecting to graze, if not slice, in an effort to create space, as she shook her head to get rid of her lightheadedness. When she felt no resistance and the world ceased to move, she blinked before looking blankly at empty space. Frowning, she swiveled in all directions, swearing she did not imagine that attack.
Was that a ruin hunter? Are they different at night? I can't feel any wind!
Just as she turned to one direction – and mildly scolding herself for letting her guard down – another hit got her, right between the shoulders blades, almost jerking her to drop her bag.
Quickly grabbing the strap with a mighty heft, she took another forceful swing with her polearm, nerves strung high, as her invisible attacker kept striking at her back or side every time she faced where it last was.
Or where she thinks it was.
It's toying with me, she thought, frustrated, eyes straining against the darkness, feeling bruises forming under her clothes.
When a side strike forced her to stumble back into a rock face, she gritted her teeth, jaw clenched shut from the impact. She fought against the mixed sensation of alarm and annoyance clawing up her throat as she bent over her bag, arm wrapped protectively over the worn leather, while positioning her weapon in a strong guard.
I can't disappoint Mei!
Suddenly, her vision swam, her surroundings shuddering all around. Worry quickly invaded her senses, wondering if she's been poisoned, only to realize a second later that the ground literally moved and quaked before her, giving way to –
A patch of radish-looking leaves suddenly shot up in the air, almost at her eye level, lifted by a small, unusually glowing, rectangular column. Her eyes moved an inch lower, only to meet a familiar set of cream-colored eyes set in a shivering, red panic.
A... green slime?
The longer she stared at the fidgeting, pudgy being, who's pallor turned into a sickly green, the more her hand shook, gripping the Black Tassel in such a tight grip, she mused if she could possibly break it.
Lowering her head, Stella slowly, and calmly, leaned her pack against the rock face, before approaching the shaking ball of elemental energy with ominous steps. Her eyes sharpened at the sight of it trying to bounce away, but a shimmer from a golden shield seem to trap it in place, no matter how much force it put into smacking its body against it.
That did it.
Smack. Smack.
Smack!
With a surge of righteous fury, she served a decisive, and vicious, series of slices, until the slime melted back down into the soil, the glow from the small pillar still reflecting its grassy ashes.
She blew out a long, heavy breath, brow twitching. From her short time in this world, she understood what beings constitute as threats, and beings that could be, mildly, ignored.
Maybe if she had a torch on her, she'd feel better after burning the creature into cinders. And maybe the blow to her pride wouldn't be as great.
When her heart eventually slowed, and the remnants of the annoying slime completely disappeared, Stella turned slowly to the short pedestal, circling it warily. She noted the intricate carvings, ancient in design. She vaguely recalled seeing similar markings at the ruins she found herself in, as well as observed it on the wares on display at Mingxing Jewelry. Like the Radiant Stone of Gu... something. Or was it called the Glowing Stone? She'd have to consult the owner again.
When she hovered a free hand for an experimental touch, it simply passed through the gentle light, not seeming to want to hinder or push her away.
Maybe it's meant to cage monsters? Was it a trap for them? Did she trigger it somehow? Was she in another set of ru –
A low chuffing and sniffing sounded behind her, making her whip her head around, exasperated.
Now what?
Sensing no immediate threat – nor anymore of that green menace – she set a weary hand to her forehead, leaning on her Tassel. Am I finally losing it?
At her periphery, she saw her bag suddenly wiggle. She blinked, eyeing the moving bulk in the brown leather, an odd cloud-like fur poking out from its opened top.
The little twitch and wag of the little fuzz made Stella's thoughts go blank, mesmerized by the... rather cute sight.
...wait! The Lilies...!
Snapping out of it, Stella scrambled to her bag, grabbing at the, surprisingly, soft plush with a firm grip. She expected the creature to struggle – as all beings with tails would do at being unceremoniously caught this way – but it simply froze, letting the moment sink in.
Is it...guilty, maybe? Stella mused. Like a child caught stealing sweets?
Between the passing of a cloud, and a soft stream of moonlight, the...thing...puffed out a muffled snort, the only sign of its indignation.
Stella raised intrigued brows, curiosity overcoming her fatigue entirely. Mindful of the delicate blooms still inside the pack – the only worthwhile target for any creature – she pulled, keeping the blade of her Tassel at the ready, it case the creature would not be as benign as its tail would imply.
She was partially right.
She stretched up her arm, up and up and up, until she had to stand, surprised at how light and how long it was for a – is this a lizard?
Now revealed in its entirety, Stella noted its unique features: thick sharp points, the color of fresh honey, protruded from its back, glowing like a lantern in a dark alley. Its shining claws, as lethal as they looked, are curled inward, like a cat, unarmed, possibly intending to look harmless. And it's long horns look just as strong and beautiful as those amber stones smattered around the terraces, shaped in elegant waves that crown around its thick mane – reminding her of men installed as king in fairytales.
But what made her finally relax her guard around the strange lizard was the flat set to its golden eyes, whiskers twitching intermittently, at it sniffed, politely, at the air around her. Stella cut off the sudden urge to giggle, less she breaks the spell that let’s the creature be so... subdued around someone holding its tail. She was thoroughly entertained by the notion that it was being patient in its discontentment. Biting the inside of her cheek instead, she gently place it on the ground, being attentive to how its feet and body curled as it settled, while it flicked its tail once at her with a soft huff.
She smiled wryly at it before taking a peek in her bag, blowing out a relieved breathe at the untouched golden Lilies.
They actually seem... shinier? They're glowing more brightly, like –
“You protected them, didn't you?” Stella hummed, smiling more sincerely as she saw its mane puff up, shaking it with a pleased grunt. Before she spoke any further, it suddenly pivoted its serpentine body, and smoothly crawled away.
“Wait, I – ”
Stella's voice died down as the creature stopped at the base of the small column, craning its long neck back at her, expecting, before climbing effortlessly up. It then stood on hindlegs, upper body curled forward, claws resting on its belly, and waited, amber eyes imploring.
As Stella took the entire image in, its only then she noticed how the pedestal and the creature has the same colour scheme, as if –
“It's you? You're the one that summoned this?” It dawned on her. With another closer look, the creature looked similar to the statues she saw scattered in a few high grounds. “You're some type of guardian, aren't you?” she asked, in awe and curiosity.
It somehow looked very amused. It’s mouth remained unmoving, but its eyes danced in the moonlight. At what, Stella couldn't understand. Only when she put her Tassel away did it puff its mane again, acknowledging her assessment.
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She is indeed not of this world. Even those in the other nations would know of this form.
What now are your intentions, siren? Shall you be appraised?
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A/N: Finally had the time to post this~
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criesinauthor · 4 years
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AQUAMARINE AU: THIS TIME I WATCHED IT
If this tastes familiar, I posted a bullshit version on my main ❤️ but here is the REAL DEAL Avatar the Last Airbender: Aquamairne AU
⁃ Azula and Zuko are spending their last summer on Ember Island
⁃ Azula is being begrudgingly clingy because it's their last summer together before Zuko starts working for their father's company and "leaves her just like their mother did >:("
⁃ Speaking of, in this verse their mother left on a ship during the last time they took a family vacation
⁃ A horrible storm happened and she was assumed lost at sea
⁃ Azula hates the ocean, Zuko hates thunder
⁃ Iroh runs a little beach shop with boba on Ember Island and he's living it up, we stan a king who minds his business and doesn't exploit the citizens he pillaged!
⁃ One night, a horrible storm happens while Azula is forcing Zuko to watch Jaws
⁃ She rags on him for being anxious and calls him a hypocrite
⁃ Even though she wishes for him to stay...
⁃ But the next day Azula falls into the pool and is CONVINCED she saw a fucking person
⁃ Then Jet the hot, piece of shit lifeguard (who broke her brothers heart 2 years ago but he is still morbidly fixated on) saves her ❤️
⁃ That night they return and there wasn't a person...there were two!!! and they're Mermaids
⁃ And they're fighting really loudly for two mythical creatures in the middle of a beach town
⁃ It's Sokka and Katara!
⁃ Sokka is in Love with Yue. He knows this because he is constantly people watching and has figured it out
⁃ and Katara has heard every last detail of it over the course of Her Entire Life
⁃ And honestly? She would like that for herself, please. No arranged marriage just because she's a "Princess" and love "isn't real."
⁃ She hates that shit!!!! She wants JUSTICE for aquatic women!
⁃ So she decided to go on land and prove it's real herself an impulsive Three Days before Yue's wedding
⁃ Sokka came with her because he is Annoying! And also fascinated with Humans. And also really wants her and Yue to be happy :)
⁃ which will not happen if his little sister fucks up because she hasn't put any research in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
⁃ So long story short, a storm swept them into this pool and they're arguing because Katara claims she's in love with "the seaweed mouth boy" and Sokka is like "katara love is more complicated than that" and she's like "but I can FEEL IT"
⁃ They stop dead in their fucking tracks when they realize Azula and Zuko have watched them the whole time
⁃ "Hello....Zuko here" Extends Gummy Worm
⁃ Azula is convinced they're crazy people and tosses it out of his hand which is fine and well because Katara Waterbends It The Fuck Back From Across the Pool
⁃ Which is enough proof for her they these are Real Mermaids From The Ocean SWIMMING in their uncle's POOL
⁃ But then the weird janitor boy who never talks and has Definitely killed a man (Longshot) comes out and they decide to book it
⁃ Next day they come back and uncle Drained the Fucking Pool which gives Zuko a minor heart attack and cracks Azula the fuck up despite her also being kind of worried.
⁃ But they hear muffled arguing from their uncle's boba shop and find Sokka and Katara wrapped in towels, totally fine, and Walking On Two Legs
⁃ Azula takes this as confirmation that they are, in fact, Fucking Imposters, until Katara waterbends gutter water onto her and she believes it again
⁃ She forces zuko to sacrifice his shirt and pants for them because he's wearing a wet suit even though he HATES walking around in just a wet suit like an asshole
⁃ He does so anyways and hates every minute
⁃ Despite all three of them protesting, Katara walks Right The Fuck UP to Jet and asks if he loves her
⁃ He does the whole "Ha. lol no. ur hot though ;) see you later ;)"
⁃ She is slightly demoralized but Soldiers On because her new friend Azula INSISTS she can make him fall in love with her
⁃ Azula has read every teen magazine so many times that she "has perfected a formula to make any man on earth fall in love in a matter of hours" she simply Chooses not to use it
⁃ Zuko and Sokka comment from the peanut gallery about how nonsensical that is
⁃ Until Azula implements operation damsel
⁃ AKA, we ride our bikes in front of Jet's house until he notices, then she throws Katara off of her handle bars to bait him into saving her
⁃ This Works but she did not tell anyone doing that on purpose was part of the plan
⁃ Cue Date!!!!
⁃ It's good but Zuko is sus and so is Sokka
⁃ Azula very pointedly (read: homophobicly) says Katara is Different and their relationship failed because he Lacks the Feminine Wiles girls like her and katara are Naturally Imbued with
⁃ That pisses him off but luckily Sokka reminds them the Fucking Sun Is Going Down and they'll turn into FISH AGAIN if they don't hurry
⁃ They bring them to the water tower and see them in Ambient Sunset Lighting as Mermaids for the First Time
⁃ Zuko & Azula: sure hope this doesn't awaken anything in me
⁃ (It does)
⁃ Jet, king that he is, eventually gets suspicious and starts pressuring Katara, assumes that there's something up because of "those two boys she's always running off with" and katara rightfully gets Pissed the Fuck Off at him, and runs away tearbending
⁃ Zuko goes after her and tries to comfort her
⁃ Cue the "why am I leaking? why does love hurt? why would someone love if it hurts this much" "because love is the closest thing humans have to magic :")" scene
⁃ Azula and Sokka are like "emotions are kinda weird, right?" "so right" on the bike ride to water tower, sweet water tower
⁃ Unfortunately Jet Follows Them and is Even More Suspicious
⁃ The next day Azula and Katara are nursing their respectively broken hearts over this with Jennifer's Body and Ice Cream
⁃ But Jet keeps hounding Zuko (and by extension Sokka, who wants to learn about more human stuff) at the boba stand
⁃ Where he figures out clearly these two gentlemen are Gay and hang out with her as a means for Zuko to prove he's Rebounded
⁃ Which isn't ideal but, he is interested in Katara again and they both want her to succeed so they take him there, hijinks ensue, Katara is invited to the Last Splash
⁃ (And Zuko does kind of want to prove he's over it so Sokka offers to take him and they all go to the mall together and get makeovers)
⁃ (Golden Opportunity for a crocverse crossover because you look me in the face and tell me mermaids wouldn't wear CROCS!)
⁃ Success! Everyone said, not knowing Jet would follow her home after the date, and climb the water tower, and see her and Sokka are mermaids, and break the ladder, and figure he can expose them on the news for being mermaids, because that makes so much sense
⁃ Luckily Longshot and Iroh recognized the betrothal necklace and whale tooth necklace in the bottom of the pool as Mermaid Fodder, something they often discuss at their monthly pai sho game, and went to save them before Jet had the chance to fuck shit up
⁃ Unfortunately!!!!!!!!!!! This means Katara and Sokka don't know about this by the next day and Zuko and Azula have to go save them from getting exposed NOW!!!!
⁃ Katara asks him if he loves her Now, and he says "heh. I'm allergic to shellfish" then pushes her in the water
⁃ Sokka dives in after her
⁃ Zuko punches Jet square in the Face then dives in
⁃ Then Azula, in a moment of love fueled bravery, jumps in as well
⁃ The sky is thundering, a whirlpool is pulling them out to sea and There it Comes
⁃ "You can have our wish, wish you can stay here" "What? Why would you do that" "We love you, Katara!" "I didn't know you leak when you're happy too!"
⁃ The Storm Hath Ended
⁃ Jet gets fucking fired
⁃ but Katara and Azula swim together and are best fucking friends while Zuko and Sokka have the worst most awkward love confession in the history of the world
⁃ They kiss and Sokka's finger scales turn blush pink for the next week
⁃ The end!!!! Love wins, people!!! And ozai got eaten by a shark off screen, roll credits! La la land!
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sad-sweet-cowboah · 5 years
Text
Sweltering
This is a request from a few months ago? Well technically two in one. Someone asked for Arthur and reader to go swimming and another asked for the same thing but with smut SOOOOOO
You swore that Hell itself had rolled through your little town overnight.
It was only 10 am, and even through the air conditioning of your house, the heat was sleeping through slowly. You sat at your kitchen table, munching on some cereal as you scanned the weather app on your phone. It was 86 degrees, and due to reach almost 100 by midafternoon. You sighed and put it down, knowing it would probably be best to stay in today.
“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?”
You looked up at Arthur who sat across from you. “It’s gonna be hotter than Satan’s balls today,” you replied, “It’s just an expression.” You quickly added with a giggle, catching the look of confusion on his face.
He hummed in response, glancing out at the window. The sun shone through the blinds, streaming a golden light into the kitchen. “Good thing we ain’t out there then.” He chuckled slightly.
You nodded, finishing off your meal before standing up. Halfway across the kitchen, the steady hum of your air conditioner suddenly went short. You stopped in your tracks, listening to the now complete silence that surrounded you. ”Uh…”
“What?”
Your eyes first went for the microwave, searching for the bright green numbers on the screen. There were none. You turned and flipped the light switch experimentally, your gaze fixated on the bulb above. Nothing happened.
“Well,” you sighed. “There goes the power. Which means it’s gonna get hot in here real quick.”
Arthur leaned back in his chair and looked at you curiously. “So what now?”
You sighed in thought, wondering what the extent of this power outage was. Town-wide? County-wide? How soon would it come back on? Either way, you weren’t determined to sit around and find out. You scratched your head, contemplating on driving around town to see if any stores would be open to keep cool in. Perhaps the movies, even?
Grabbing your phone, you began to check your social media. Statuses began to appear, complaining about the recent outage. Apparently it was county wide, meaning you were shit out of luck for doing anything local. You groaned lightly and scrolled through some more absentmindedly, hoping for some other news, until something caught your eye. It was just a simple ad, one that you’d scrolled past dozens of times. A photo of an island beach with clear skies and crystal clear water against perfect white sand.
You hadn’t been to the beach in forever.
“Arthur,” you looked up from your phone. “How do you feel about going to the beach?”
--
In an attempt to beat the heat that slowly crept into your house, it didn’t take long for you to get ready. Although you spent at least ten minutes trying to dig your bathing suit from storage, silently cursing yourself that you hadn’t done it much earlier this year. After putting a light colored sundress overtop it, you began to pack other necessities. Towels, sunscreen, sandwich ingredients and drinks, the works.
Since you didn’t have swim trunks for Arthur, you planned on stopping by one of the surf shops to grab a pair. Once you had a tote bag and a cooler packed and ready to go, the two of you headed outside. Stepping outside was like diving into a blanket of fire, the heat pressing into you as you hurried to your car.
The initial drive wasn’t long; at least an hour. The scenery gradually changed, the mountains giving way to summer rental houses and corner shops. You passed by many boats being towed, cars with surfboards or kayaks on top. The sidewalks were littered with people in shorts and tank tops, excited kids already in swimsuits carrying buckets and shovels.
It was obvious that it would be busy today, to which you didn’t mind. You found a parking spot fairly close to the shoreline, although your first goal was to get Arthur his own swimsuit. Stepping out, you could smell the ocean in the warm breeze. You led him to the nearest shop, which was fairly busy. You managed to locate swim trunks, pointing them out to him so he could pick out a pair.
You noted the look of confusion on his face. Of course, swimsuits from his time were much different. He eventually pulled out a pair of dark blue trunks, which you promptly paid for and headed back out.
The walk from the shop to the shore took only five minutes, but you were sweating already. From the edge, you observed the huge crowd that already took up the majority of the beach. It certainly would be hard to find a spot, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Off to the side, a building with bathrooms caught your attention. The changing area.
Wandering over, you pointed Arthur to one of the changing stalls. As you waited, you peeled off your sundress. You were eager to get into the water and cool off.
Hearing the door open, you turned to see Arthur stepping out. He seemed a little shy, looking left and right before emerging entirely. God, you could never get tired of looking at that man’s torso. As soon as his gaze landed on you, his eyes widened.
Of course, this was his first time seeing a bikini.
“Jesus, Y/N. You’re practically naked!” he exclaimed.
You merely shrugged. “These are pretty common, don’t get yourself worked up.”
He mumbled something that you didn’t hear, and you began walking out into the sand. Up close it was easier to find a spot, placing yourself a small distance between other beachgoers. You could feel Arthur’s eyes on you as you set up the towels and umbrella.
Once you finished, you eagerly shook your sandals off and turned to face him. It’s as if the awe were permanently plastered on his face as he was poorly hiding it. “Arthur?” you said, catching his attention. “Arthur, you’ve seen me naked. And look around, most women are dressed like me. This isn’t a big deal.”
His cheeks flushed slightly, tearing his gaze from you as he rubbed his neck sheepishly. “M’ sorry, just ain’t used to…seein’ you like this in public. I’m from-”
“A different time, I know,” you huffed slightly. “Just ignore it, okay? We’re here to cool off and have fun,” you reached out for his hand. “Now, let’s get into the water!”
He looked at you again. “You go on n’ have fun. I’ll join ya in a bit…I’m hungry.” He added, noting the look you gave him.
“Alright, don’t take too long, cowboy.” you said, stretching up to kiss his cheek before stepping away and running to the water.
As you approached the water line, you stepped into an rolling creep of a wave. The cool water immediately felt so relaxing, washing up over your feet. Walking in closer, allowing yourself to become waist deep before diving in, engulfing yourself within an oncoming wave. The force pushed you back up to the surface. Taking a deep breath, you whipped your hair out of your face. The water felt so refreshing.
Continuing to swim around, diving into waves and floating atop them, you realized a little bit of time had passed and Arthur hadn’t joined you. You glanced out towards the sand, spotting him sitting underneath the umbrella. He didn’t seem to be eating like he said he would.
Frowning, you made your way back to the shallows and stepped back onto the sand. Dodging a pack of little kids, you approached him. He had his knees up, arms wrapped around them and looking uncomfortable. Upon seeing you, his expression changed. “Done already?” he asked.
You shook your head. “I’m wondering why you’re not joining me. And why you haven’t eaten yet.” You glanced toward the cooler that hadn’t changed position since your arrival.
“I…” he trailed off, shifting slightly in his spot. “I just…”
Your head tilted in curiosity, and you knelt down in front of him, feeling genuinely concerned. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”
He broke his gaze from you, although you could have sworn his eyes went straight for your cleavage beforehand. His cheeks bloomed pink. “It’s…kinda embarrassin’…” he murmured so quietly you had to strain to hear.
“What?” you asked, leaning a little closer to him.
His lips pursed, still keeping his head turned. “I, uh…” he huffed. “I-I have a problem…”
You stared. “Problem?” you repeated, unsure what he meant.
“You know…” he continued, giving you a side glance. “My-”
“Oh!” you exclaimed, a little too loudly. His flinch calmed you down. “Sorry,” you dropped your voice, shuddering with a small giggle. “Really?”
“It’s that damn swimsuit,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t help it…”
You couldn’t help but to giggle more. “Is that all? Why are you embarrassed about that?”
He gave a sigh of annoyance. “Cause I can’t get rid of it, Y/N. I try to think o’ somethin’ else, but nothin’ helps. All I see is you…in that godforsaken outfit.”
Oh, this poor man. More like a hormonal teenager who thought with his dick. You kept that thought to yourself, however. You reached out to caress his cheek. “Guess I should have shown you beforehand, huh?”
“So I could fuck ya in the privacy of your home, yeah.” He muttered, though slight amusement in his voice.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise at this. So straightforward. “So…you wanna fuck me right now?” You asked.
He snorted slightly, staring at you directly now. “You have no idea, woman.”
His expression was so intense, those blue eyes reflecting the arousal within him. It wasn’t the ideal place to do so, not while being surrounded by families. You glanced back toward the changing building. A little bit of a distance away, but somewhat private. Maybe you could get away with it.
“Then let’s fix that,” you gestured for him to stand. “Come on.”
He looked at you, confused and surprised. “What...wait, I can’t-”
“Tuck it in your waistband, silly,” you instructed. “Then follow me back to the building.”
Arthur did as you told, carefully shifting himself without making his actions too obvious. He then stood up awkwardly, trying hard not to tug on the fabric as he stepped behind you. He kept close as you led the way, noting the amount of people entering and exiting the changing stalls.
They were mostly empty by the time you’d approached them, with a couple still closed. Quickly looking around, you pulled Arthur into one farthest away from anything else. Closing the door behind him, you turned to face the blushing cowboy.
“Ya sure we’re good in here?” He asked, appearing sheepish. “Ain’t want trouble from anyone.”
“We’ll be fine,” you said reassuringly, reaching for his swim trunks. Tucking on the drawstring, you loosened the waistband. The bulge underneath immediately released with it, and you tugged the fabric down to unveil it in its entirety. “Just be quiet.” You added, wrapping your hand around his length.
His breath hitched slightly at your touch. He opened his mouth to speak, yet was cut off when your mouth engulfed the head with ease. A low groan emanated from his stomach as he leaned against the wall.
You teased him first, sucking just a little and placing small kisses along his warm pink flesh. His hand tangled itself within your wet hair, prompting you to go further. You did so, slowly taking his length to the root, before pulling back and bobbing slowly.
He shuddered against the wall, quietly moaning your name. His touch gentle, yet firm as he pressed on the back of your head for more. You have in to the pressure, swallowing him a few more times at a tantalizingly slow pace. Though you weren’t planning to spend much time on the foreplay.
 Another moment passed by, sliding your lips back to the tip, popping them off before standing back up. The slight forlorn look on his face soon changed when you shimmied off the bottom of your bikini.
It was as if a switch had been flipped. The hunger in his eyes gleamed brightly as he practically lunged forward to you, his hands gripping your hips hard it was almost painful. “Turn around.” He commanded, the dominant growl in his throat sent a shiver down your spine.
You obeyed silently, turning to face the opposite wall and sticking your ass out teasingly. You heard him make a satisfied noise as his hands ran down your back. He squeezed the soft flesh of your butt as he stepped forward, running his erection along your folds and center. It didn’t take long for him to begin, easily sheathing himself in one smooth glide. You gasped softly as your inner walls stretched for him, and uttered a soft moan as he began to move within you.
He gripped your hips again, using the leverage to drive himself deeper. The sudden change brought up a yelp that you bit down. It certainly would be hard to keep quiet.
“You feel amazin’,” he growled lowly, leaning to kiss the back of your neck. “Fuck…”
Your only answer was a moan, your back arching to enhance your pleasure. He hit your G-spot perfectly, your knees buckling from the sheer ecstasy that washed over your body. He managed to hold you still, pounding away with such power.
His teeth ravaged your flesh, knowing he’d leave marks on your already mostly bare body. His nails dug into your skin, so tight with your hips. He was relentless in his pursuit of his pleasure, wanting nothing more to release the energy into you. The way his voice rumbled was like music to your ears.
He whispered profanities to you, sinful utterances which ignited your core even more. A hand brushed against your belly before his fingers found your clit, expertly dancing against your sensitive nerves. Throwing your head back, forcing down another yelp that nearly left your lips. Arthur was quick, covering your mouth with his other hand. Though muffled, you were able to express your pleasure.
“That’s it, darlin’.” He groaned to you. He eagerly buried himself to the hilt over and over, feverishly toying with you without a pause. Somehow it seemed as if he was going even faster, the sounds of his hips slapping against your ass overtook your muffled mewls.
Your peak was arriving quickly, your mind too addled to staunch it. The climb was short; the explosive ache that cascaded down your core. You sang out loud, though still stifled by Arthur.
“That’s m’girl.” he huffed, pausing to kiss the back of your neck. The fresh moment of intimacy swayed you, your knees trembling, threatening to buckle as your body came down from your high. He didn’t give you any time to recover, as he thrust deep within once again. His hand moved from your soaked pussy to run his hand down your back a second time before gripping your waist.
“Arthur!” you cried out against his fingers, the muscles in your legs almost rendered to jelly. It was amazing how you still stood, though part of it had to be from him. Pinned between the wall and his strong grip, letting him have his way in this miniscule changing booth.
“I-I’m close.” he grunted, shoving himself even harder within you. Tears formed in your eyes as he hit a sensitive spot, though the pain felt wonderful. Your hands grasped at the smooth wall, unable to hold onto anything. With a few more heavy pounds, he released your mouth to grip your waist hard, so hard that you whined. Growling your name, his hips pressed hard with yours, he held you still as his spend emptied deep within you.
The silence surrounded the two of you for a long moment, until Arthur eased his grip. He pulled away from you slowly, a trail of his seed dripping down your leg instantly. He took a deep, shuddering breath and straightened up. You turned to face him, pulling the swimsuit bottoms up, the warmth gathering in the damp fabric.
“Feel better?” you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice.
“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Christ, that’ll keep me good for a while.” He pushed his slightly sweaty hair out of his face and fixed his swim trunks.
“Good,” you responded. “Now will you join me in the water?”
He gave a short chuckle. “’Course.”
You exited the booth first, carefully peering around to make sure no one was within vicinity. You hoped no other beachgoers heard what was going on, but it seemed safe enough. Arthur quickly joined you, heading back to your spot on the beach as if nothing happened. Despite the ache that lingered between your legs, you were able to hit the waves once again, pulling Arthur in with you.
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mrmichaelchadler · 5 years
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Hellboy
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You will never realize how much you need Guillermo del Toro in your life until you see the reboot of “Hellboy.”
Long gone are the master filmmaker’s stylistic signatures: his meticulous eye for detail in the biggest monster and tiniest fairy, his deft tonal balance of the weird and the whimsical, and—above all else—an obvious affection for his creatures, both good and evil. Instead, under the watch of director Neil Marshall, we get empty bombast and a million bloody ways to rip a body to pieces, too few of which are inventive.
Marshall takes over for del Toro, who directed the original 2004 “Hellboy” and its sequel, 2008’s “Hellboy II: The Golden Army,” films that were an ideal pairing of director and star with Ron Perlman as the wisecracking, half-demon superhero. And while it would be a daunting task for anyone to follow in those esteemed footsteps, Marshall—who mostly has horror films and television credits to his name, including “Game of Thrones”—allowed his take on the character to spiral wildly out of control.
Granted, that’s partly the point. The script from Andrew Cosby, based on Mike Mignola’s Dark Horse comic series, is cheekily anachronistic and self-aware. It’s also bloated with its many flashbacks and tangents introducing more characters and subplots than anyone could possibly follow. And this “Hellboy” really wallows in every last drop of its R-rating whereas the previous films were PG-13, upping the graphic violence, profanity, and overall gnarliness. It’s the further Deadpool-ization of an already irreverent and inappropriate character, and—for a little while—it’s admittedly kind of a kick.
But just because a movie is ridiculous and knows it’s ridiculous, that doesn’t automatically make its ridiculousness work. “Hellboy” stops being fun when it stops being funny—when it abruptly shifts gears into a more relentlessly bloody, violent mood. And eventually, the film reaches a point of extreme, overindulgent insanity. Even that might have been more tolerable, though, if the action sequences were choreographed and staged in a more thrilling manner. Instead, we get crude, computer-generated brutality, choppily edited to the tune of overplayed rock anthems like Alice Cooper’s “Welcome to My Nightmare” and Mötley Crüe’s “Kickstart My Heart.”
At the center of it all, the endlessly intriguing and appealing David Harbour can only do so much. He more than ably steps into Perlman’s giant boots to play the hulking and hard-drinking Hellboy. It’s good to see the “Stranger Things” star continue to get leading roles after a lifetime of strong supporting character work. Harbour has just the right look, the grizzled attitude, the way with a snappy one-liner. He even gets the opportunity to explore Hellboy’s sensitive side buried deep beneath his beefy, red exterior as the character discovers the truth of who he really is. (Because of course, this “Hellboy” is an origin story. Every comic book hero gets one, and usually more than that.) But increasingly, he’s called upon to contribute little more than sheer brute strength. He’s also stuck with far too many groaners, including one truly terrible pun toward the end that had me saying: “Oh no, no no no,” out loud to the screen.
Where to begin in explaining the plot? How about many hundreds of years ago, with King Arthur (yes, that King Arthur) slaying the evil blood queen Nimue (a vampy Milla Jovovich), slicing up her body and placing the pieces in boxes to be hidden across the land. (This is just in the first few minutes, folks.) Cut to the present day, with Hellboy, as a member of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, eventually having to fight off Nimue as she gets put back together and gathers her powers to wreak havoc on humanity. That is an extremely oversimplified explanation of the plot. So much more happens along the way, but there’s no need to clutter your brains with it.
Hellboy would seem like a pretty formidable force unto himself to battle this ancient baddie. Nonetheless, he gets help from Sasha Lane of “American Honey,” doing an iffy British accent as a young clairvoyant; Daniel Dae Kim as a British military operative with a secret; Sophie Okonedo as an aristocratic seer; and Ian McShane as Professor Broom, or as Hellboy calls him, Dad. He also must fight members of a centuries-old elite society; a giant, talking pig man (Stephen Graham); and actual giants. Oh! And Nazis. Because of course there are Nazis. Individually, Harbour might have a humorous moment or two with his co-stars, but decreasingly so as the movie staggers toward its messy, cacophonous end.
And it just will … not … end. After an overlong two-hour running time, “Hellboy” suggests optimistically that it’s the start of its own franchise, but it will probably end up stuck in purgatory instead.
from All Content http://bit.ly/2VDRQPA
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5hfanfiction · 7 years
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Galaxies: Chapter 7 (Dance)
A/N
IMPORTANT NOTE, READ BEFORE PROCEEDING TO THE STORY
For those people who had read this story before the last update, I made the following changes:
First: 3 month world tour - 1 month Europe.
Second: I made a rough edit on chapters 1 and 2 as I’ve noticed how poorly it was written. Lol but yeah I think that’s the most significant changes for this fic.
Anyway, if you are still reading this, thank you and I only proofread when I have time.
—-
It was ten minutes passed nine as time had gone by unnoticed, yet again. Lauren’s mind was voided with thoughts, as her ears were ringing in silence, as if the laughter and music surrounding her was non-existent. It was a skill she had acquired when she was forced to join social gatherings. But unlike the past week where she was consumed with thoughts, that night it was empty, as if everything around her were fictitious beings —nothing around her was real, she wasn’t real.
She didn’t know how she ended up in a pub with people she didn’t know, and it didn’t help that she was completely shut-off from the group’s conversation. Every word uttered was foreign to her, so instead she took a sip of her scotch and examined the ice in her drink that pretty much summed up her whole existence —a cold object slowly melting in its warm surroundings until it infects it with its algid state.
Lauren was again brought back to reality as she felt a cold hand rested softly on her arm, she slowly glanced at it before her eyes landed its owner sitting beside her, “Are you okay? I’m really sorry about this. I told them about my plans but they were very persistent and I didn’t want to blow you off,” the young waiter whispered in her ear managing to lean closer. Lauren had then appreciated how sexy the girl’s French accent was, and it reminded her why she agreed to go with the group in the first place. She had to make sure she gets the girl home, and with her sulking it might not be the case.
“Yeah, it’s cool. I don’t mind, I don’t have any other plans anyway,” Lauren said with a sweet smile, deciding to up her game, “And It’s quite entertaining observing you guys talking, your language is exceptionally beautiful, especially when it comes from your mouth. And we still have all night,” Lauren said, leaning in closer to the girl, “to talk,” she whispered in the waitress’ ear before leaning back with a smirk plastered in her face. Lauren didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that it was already in her nature to flirt. With Lucy it was different, as it wasn’t really the brown-eyed woman’s body she was after, but with other girls she was skilled and confident, like a lioness perfectly capable of attacking a weak prey, and whatever practice she had before­ it was working on the blue eyed girl, as Lauren felt the girl shiver from her previous attack.
It wasn’t after a few more glasses of alcohol that Lauren had felt her whole body heat up, a cue that it had already consumed her system. It didn’t help that she and the waitress had occasionally exchanged subtle touches, but it was enough to make her whisper “I think it’s time for us to talk at your place,” to the girl beside her earning a nod in agreement. The waitress had informed her that they could leave after her trip to the ladies room.  Lauren had paid for their tab and was preparing to leave until she had heard the familiar lyrics that had brought her back to a place she had dreaded.
“Tell me something, when the rain falls on my face How do you quickly replace it with a golden summer smile?
Tell me something, when I’m feeling tired and afraid,
How do you know just what to say, to make everything alright?”
The calm sound of the waves had blended with the acoustics of the song, it was soothing yet tantalizing as Lauren held Camila closely, with the younger girl’s chin rested on her shoulder. Lauren had guided them both, as each sway was accompanied by the ocean breeze. They had lost count on how many songs they had danced to, with both of their bodies pressed against each other, but both of them knew they didn’t want that night to end. Lauren then decided to break the silence between them, as she whispered the lyrics along with the song continuing to guide them both.
“I don’t think that you even realize,
the joy you make me feel when I’m inside your universe
You hold me like I’m the one who’s precious,
I hate to break it to you but it’s just the other way around
You can thank all the stars all you want but I’ll always be the lucky one…” Lauren trailed off, as the song continued playing.
“You know this could be our song,” Lauren said, adjusting her hold on Camila.
“Babe, you do realize that you’ve said that in every song we’ve danced to, right?”
“I know, but can you blame me? Every song tells a different story. It could be about just wanting to be with a person for a night or about meeting someone for the first time or wanting to be with someone for the rest of your life, or even having that entire story in one song,” Lauren exclaimed, feeling her girlfriend’s breathing. They had danced as if they were floating, forgetting their surroundings.
“So how does that connect with making all these cheesy ass love songs our songs?” Camila asked as Lauren managed to twirl her around before pulling her closer again.
“It’s because, I want all these stories with you, the good and the bad ones, even if it’s a song about  humps, well definitely a song about your humps, ” Lauren said, as she slid down her hand from Camila’s waste and playfully squeezed her humps causing Camila to squeal.
“You’re an ass sometimes, why’d you have to ruin the moment every time. I can’t believe we ditched prom just for you to sexually harass me!” Camila scoffed as she playfully removed herself from Lauren’s hold managing to push Lauren’s shoulder in the process.
It was the night of their senior prom, and both of them had just dropped by to take pictures with their friends before running off to one of orange county’s beaches. They didn’t even get to share a dance, managing to waste their parents’ money on their prom tickets. Since their school was one of the most expensive schools in the Newport coast area, their tickets’ weren’t cheap and their prom was held in a private resort.  So instead of spending one of the most memorable nights of their lives dancing with people they had spent four years of their lives with, they chose to cover their expensive outfits with sand, rolling around on the beach laughing like three-year olds —but it was indeed memorable.
“I’ll miss this, I can’t believe in a few months we’ll both be in different states,” Lauren whispered softly as her head was rested on her girlfriend’s chest. They had both managed to chase each other, circling around Lauren’s car and eventually landing on the sand until both of them had comfortably snuggled up, lying on the beach, “Do you think we could survive it?
“Survive long distance?” Camila asked, playing with Lauren’s hair.
“Yeah…” Lauren trailed off, pain evident in her voice. It was an emotional night for both of them, as she felt the heavy rise and fall of her girlfriend’s chest. They both knew they only had a few days left before Lauren was off to Uconn for her summer training. 
“I don’t think so, I know so. I know this sounds so overused and cliché, but nothing happens by chance, but I know that the universe had made us cross paths for a reason. I can’t guarantee that in those four years we’d spend apart that it would be perfect, because nothing is perfect, we will go through tons of shit, even if we end up in the same state or we’d be miles apart. It will always come to choices, but what I can guarantee is that I will always choose you, I will always choose us.”
“How can you be so sure about these things?” Lauren asked doubtfully resulting for Camila to release a deep breath.
“Our idea of love is misconstrued, because novels and movies portray it as a perfect entity wherein mistakes lead to cheating and divorce, where long distance isn’t ideal because fiction tells us that we have to be with the person we love 24/7 for it to become a real relationship, and it contributes to what relationships are now, disposable. Now, people have the tendency to change partners like they’re changing clothes.” Camila said, pausing as she felt a strong breeze brush through them, “Unlike before, people were forced to marry a complete stranger, someone who they don’t even give a shit about because they pretty much don’t have any options to choose from. But those people are better in keeping relationships because they work hard for it and eventually learn to love the person they were forced to be with.”
“Yeah, I think I get what you are saying,” Lauren said, “ we now have the advantage of meeting our soul-mates from the other side of the world, a lot of us are free to love anyone we want, yet our reason for breaking up or giving up on someone is I love her but she’s an hour away from me, imagine those couples who were separated because of the war before and yet end up being faithful to each other with the only thing that kept them going on were letters sent months apart, not even knowing if the other one is still alive. And here we are complaining, when we have messages that just literally take less than a second to arrive, and we can’t even keep it in our pants.”
“Exactly!” Camila exclaimed, causing Lauren to chuckle from how passionate her girlfriend was getting. “And I know we are better than those people, we’ve literally been through a lot together and even if we go old school and write each other letters, this pants, okay assume that I’m wearing pants right now, will never come off unless you take it off.”
“Ew, gross! That means you wouldn’t change clothes or shower for months? Lauren asked, jokingly.
“I’m so done with you!” Camila said pushing Lauren off her chest, only to be pinned down. “Get off  me, Lauren!”
“Nope, I’m sorry I’m just kidding and stop squirming, your mom’s probably going to kill you, and me if you ruin that dress,” Lauren said, still pinning her girlfriend on all fours. Camila eventually got tired of wiggling out of her girlfriend’s grip as she knew Lauren’s stronger than her, but Lauren was careful enough not to hurt her. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me tomorrow? I’m sure Adam wouldn’t mind if you tag along.”
“Even if I’m dying to go with you guys, I can’t.  Besides my parents wouldn’t allow me, and it’s your opportunity to spend time with your brother. He’ll miss you more than I would.” Camila said causing Lauren to gasp feigning offense, the statement was also enough for Lauren to let go of her hold on Camila, rolling off her as she sat next to her instead. “I’m just kidding, love. You know I’ll miss you the most.” Camila reassured, propping herself up as she immediately hugged Lauren from behind, resting her chin on the older girl’s shoulder.
Lauren released a deep breath as she felt her girlfriend’s arms circled around her waist— it was a perfect night, the calming sound of the beach, the beautiful moonlight illuminated the ocean, and the bright stars, and for what felt like the millionth time, she had the love of her life beside her. It was one of the many moments they had shared, holding on to each other like it was their last. They were indeed perfect for each other, Lauren had thought.
“I think we should get going, I promised your mom I’ll drop you off before midnight,” Lauren mustered, breaking yet another comfortable silence they had shared in each other’s arms.
“Yeah, that would probably be a good Idea,” Camila responded as she was first to stand up, dusting her dress removing every possible grain of sand as fearing the wrath of her mother as Lauren had mentioned.
“I can’t believe your dad bought you a new car, a sports car in particular,” Camila said, once they had pulled out of the beach in Lauren’s new Corvette.
“Yeah me too, I was surprised to see it parked besides my old car, and I thought we had a visitor but then it had a huge ribbon on top of the hood with a huge ass note that said Hope you like your new ride to prom, love dad. I haven’t actually seen him for a week now, he’s been so busy at the hospital lately, and maybe it was his way of saying he couldn’t see me tonight.” Lauren said with a hint of disappointment.  
She had noticed how frequent her dad had stayed in the hospital taking continuous shifts, as if he already lived there. Yes, she knew that it was part of her dad’s job to take longer shifts, but something was different, he hadn’t missed an important event in her life before. But for the past months he would just come home to get more clothes when Lauren was in school. Lauren never questioned it, she didn’t even question the fact that both her parents couldn’t accompany her for her university tour. She just assumed both of them were busy saving lives, and for someone like Lauren it was enough of an excuse.
“I had fun,” Camila said, once they had arrived at her driveway.
“Me too,” Lauren said with a hint of sadness in her voice, it was always hard for them to part, and one of them would always text the other person with an “I miss you text,” seconds after they’d said their goodbyes. Their friends found it silly for how they couldn’t really get enough of each other, but for both them it was their way of showing their love for each other.
“See you in a few days, and have fun at your tour in Uconn, send me pictures, okay? Camila reminded leaning in closer to Lauren hugging her as if they wouldn’t see each other for years. They had stayed in each other’s arms for minutes before Camila pulled away first giving her girlfriend a passionate kiss and afterwards said “drive safe”.
“Ready to go?” A voice husked, awakening Lauren from her flashback.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. Let’s go,” Lauren mumbled, obviously flustered. She was again consumed by memories that haunted her for the past week. Something with that specific memory had gotten into her, but no matter how hard she had tried, she couldn’t seem to recall it. It was as if she had forgotten something important, and maybe it was the reason she felt empty, why she had woken up at the wrong side of the bed, why she had suddenly changed her approach towards her ex. But one thing was sure —the memory had left a huge lump on her throat, unable to be mustered towards her consciousness.
Once they had arrived at the girl’s apartment, they had devoured each other like hungry beast, not wasting anytime as the girl led them to her sofa caressing each other fervently. It was as if every touch was calculated, something had taken over Lauren’s body. But when they were about to get on the bed, it suddenly hit her, cold. Lauren froze in the middle of the heated kiss, all the intoxication and desire had instantly vanished, leaving a heavy ache on her chest like someone had shot her straight in the heart. “I have to go,” she mumbled, pushing herself away from the girl, before she stormed out of the apartment.
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parkrangercirca2016 · 5 years
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October 13, 2019; Sunday
A week ago I was sitting onboard the Lady of the Lake II, steaming out of Stehekin landing towards Chelan. That boat trip was the culmination of a multi-day, mostly solo trip from the Bridge Creek trailhead to the isolated community of Stehekin, WA.
For most of the summer I had been toying around with the idea of taking time at the end of the summer season to take a solo backpacking trip through the park’s wilderness. In the perfect world I would get dropped at a trailhead (ideally Cascade Pass but any of the other routes would suffice) by Jillian and then hike into Stehekin. Meanwhile, Jillian would drive over to the east side of the state and park the car in Chelan and board the Lady of the Lake II and meet me in Stehekin where we would camp and explore until we had to take the boat back out. (If you are unfamiliar, Stehekin is a small community at the head of 50.5 mile-long Lake Chelan that is only accessible via hiking, boating, or flying in.)
There was a distinct possibility that this fantasy would not play out, because a coworker needed to take leave during the time I wanted to take the trip and another coworker wanted help with a field trip a school was taking to the park. It also turns out that the system I used to put in my request for the necessary time off was not the most up-to-date system and nobody saw that request until the last minute.
But everything worked out and after a busy Wednesday of packing and prepping I drove out to Bridge Creek Trailhead on State Route 20 to start my trip. Unfortunately Jillian was working that day so she was unable to drop me off. We had to leave one of our cars there. I was worried about that when I parked. At the time there was one other car in the parking lot and it had a rear window that had been shattered by criminals. A ranger from the Forest Service was in the parking lot waiting for a state trooper to show up to take a report on the incident and he and I chatted for close to an hour. We were interrupted by a couple visiting from Montana who had lots of questions about the park that I was able to answer. (It didn’t feel like time off at that point.) Eventually the Forest Service fellow decided that I should probably stop burning day light by talking to him and let me go.
The first 100 yards of the trail did not get off to a great start. Somewhere along that stretch a bug of unimaginable size, speed, and noise made a beeline right out of the brush and latched onto my left cheek, stinging me over and over again. I grabbed it, crushed it, and threw it into the woods without seeing what it was. For the next few hours there was a burning feeling in my cheek, along with a big red mark. With nobody around to see it, I figured it didn’t matter if I looked like I had come off the worse for wear from a fight.
Being early October I had expected to see people on this first mile of trail. The Bridge Creek Trail is part of the Pacific Crest Trail and early October is a popular time for through-hikers who started in Mexico in the Spring to be finishing up their journey. I did not see a single soul as I arrived at a junction where I intended to peel off from the PCT and save a few miles by crossing a creek and continuing further east from the main thoroughfare.
I was a little leery of this detour pretty early on because the creek I had to cross (a sign said State Creek but I think it was actually Copper Creek) had a bridge that had collapsed and was not repaired. There wasn’t a ton of water in the creek but it did take me awhile to figure out the best spot and path to ford it by stepping from mostly-dry to mostly-dry rock near the water’s surface. There was some blowdown on the other side of the creek as I continued on my way and clambered over the downed trees, but the path was obvious.
It was obvious until the forest opened up and I entered a site people had been using to camp. There was a large pit on the edge of it, a pile of gravel with an open view of a valley, and no obvious indication of where the trail I’d been on went. I examined the pit in the ground (an abandoned mine that was mostly filled in) and looked out over the valley from the pile of gravel, which was obviously refuse from the mining operation. Then I circled the camp until I saw a likely candidate for the trail and set off into the woods once more. The path ended up getting fainter and more difficult to follow as it descended downhill. At this point I decided that saving a few miles wasn’t worth the hassle of having to find and follow the route over and over again so I turned around, went back past the old mine and recrossed the creek to the junction where I had turned off from an hour earlier.
Setting off down Bridge Creek after wasting an hour was not the most fun thing I have ever done, but it wasn’t as if I had a choice. The temperature had climbed a bit and I was able to drop a few layers I had been wearing. The sky was overcast and I was under the shelter of trees, so I didn’t have to worry about sunburn. The trail along Bridge Creek was flat and brushy in places. I fully expected to run into a bear foraging for the fall, but was disappointed when I didn’t see a single one. (Nor did I see any signs of bears on this day.)
My permit for staying in the park’s backcountry required me to hike to High Camp near McAlester Pass in Lake Chelan National Recreation Area. I’d be doing about eight miles or so and climbing a little over 1,800 feet. Almost all of that would happen as I approached McAlester Lake and High Camp. As a result this first part of the trail was a relatively quick hike, even with a fully loaded pack on my back.
The week before I had started this trip the snow level had dropped to about 3,000 feet above sea level and dumped several inches of snow above that point. The boundary between North Cascades National Park and Lake Chelan National Recreation Area was right at the perfect elevation to start seeing snow. The moment I crossed the boundary (indicated by a post in the ground) into the NRA I started seeing patches of snow. And the trail started climbing at that point.
It was here that I realized it had been a few years since my last backpacking trip, and I was feeling the stress of it on my body. From my hips on down I could feel a soreness starting to seep into my joints. The snow was now across the trail. I was following foot prints from two people who had gone ahead of me in the past week, which was a lifesaver I would find out as I got closer and closer to McAlester Pass, the highest elevation point on my trip.
If you’re unfamiliar with North Cascades snow, I’ll pause for a moment to describe it to you. I’m originally from the Midwest where we get all kinds of snow from dry, powdery stuff that blows and drifts everywhere to a heavy wet kind that makes for building great snowmen. The kind of snow that falls in the Cascades seems to fall into only one category (at least as far as I have experienced it); the heavy kind. It’s not just heavy and wet, having a high moisture content, it also takes no effort at all for this snow to turn to ice. The moment any sort of weight is applied to it, this snow compresses itself to form an impenetrable and frictionless barrier between your foot and the ground below it. I suspect this quality is what makes the 312 glaciers in the park a reality.
The people who had broken the trail before me had also created footprints made of ice. Wherever my feet fell, ice was created. Thank goodness I had brought trekking poles with me to help me with the uphill section because it would have been tough to go at it alone.
That uphill section ended up being a real killer. The days are getting shorter and once the sun dipped below the mountains to my west the temperature started dropping again. I put on a layer and a stocking cap Jillian had knitted for me and pushed on to High Camp. Except I never made it to High Camp. By the time I saw the sign saying that McAlester Lake Camp was off to my right I decided that it was getting too dark and cold to make another mile of vertical hiking worth it and stepped off the trail to find a place to pitch my tent.
Having to stop before I was planning to stop was a little demoralizing, but definitely the right decision. I put up my tent and a rain fly to cook under and made some pasta with alfredo sauce. I also ate a Milky Way for dessert before sealing up my food in the bear canister I had brought and stowing that a good distance from my tent and then collapsing into my sleeping bag.
I slept pretty well, for the most part. It was a cold night without any cloud cover to trap heat down near the Earth’s surface. (After sunset the clouds that had been over me all day broke up revealing a marvelous celestial display.) When I woke up at 5:30 the next morning I decided that it was too cold to try and get out of my sleeping bag, change clothes, make breakfast, and break camp. I fell back asleep and eventually woke up at 9:00 when it was warmer out.
After making breakfast and getting back on the trail I decided that getting up at 9:00 had been a mistake. I was getting far too late of start since I needed to cover about 12 miles that day, including my hike up to McAlester Pass where I should have camped the night before.
The pass itself was a nice place. On my way up to it I had continued to follow in the footsteps of those who had gone before me and appreciated the handful of bear paw prints that I saw going along the trail. I stopped at the pass to use the slammer (i.e. pit toilet) at High Camp and put on my sunglasses since the sun’s reflection off the snow was hurting my eyes. The fall colors up there weren’t quite peaking yet. The larches still needed some time to become fully golden, but I definitely appreciated the bursts of red, gold, and yellow against the gray, white, and green of the surrounding forest and mountains.
As soon as I started down the far side of McAlester Pass the snow seemed to clear up off of the trail. I was alone with the rocky trail, fall colors, and occasional ‘meep’ from a distant pika.
As much as I complain about hiking uphill, I complain more about going downhill. It is jarring having not just my body weight, but the weight of a pack, pushing my ankles, knees, and hips into the ground with every step as I try to arrest my momentum going down hill. That pain gets to be old, fast. This entire day of hiking was on a gentle downhill slope with a trail that was full of loose gravel. The only souls I saw until I emerged from the woods onto Stehekin Road were those of a trail crew working on a small creek crossing.
It was 8:00 in the evening when I finally crossed the Stehekin River and made my way into Harlequin Camp and ate supper. The temperature down there was far warmer than it had been the previous night in the high country, and I slept like a log.
Upon getting up and making breakfast, though, I discovered that I had in fact aged about fifteen years. My feet were sore. My knees ached. And my hips did not want to comply. I hobbled around camping with one trekking pole as a cane while I tried to stretch out my sore muscles and down a hot breakfast before boarding a shuttle bus to the landing.
Jillian was going to join me that day. She was supposed to drive down to Chelan after work the previous night and board the Lady of the Lake II so that I could collect her in Stehekin (or so she could collect me) on Saturday. I was unimaginably happy to see her as she got off of the boat. It was also a bonus to see a coworker from this summer and her partner get off the boat as well.
A nice local, who happened to know a friend of my coworker’s partner, drove us from the landing to the bakery where we all ate lunch together before she dropped us off at the Buckner Orchard for Harvest Fest. Stehekin is a strange place. Because it’s a real town in Washington the people who live there have to register their cars. Except no police will ever come up the lake to check vehicle registrations, so nobody renews their car’s registration. Or follows typical traffic laws. There were six of us in the car that took us from the landing to the bakery and not one of us wore a seat belt.
Jillian, myself, my coworker, and her partner arrived at the Orchard just as the festivities were getting ready to wrap up. We picked apples and made cider. Jillian had a spare bottle that we topped with freshly-pressed cider to have with our supper that night. Then the four of us explored Rainbow Falls before parting ways.
Jillian & I boarded the Lady of the Lake II the next morning and arrived home late. Poor Hopper had been left alone for nearly 24 hours. (It turns out Jillian had not driven to Chelan after work but had slept at home and woke up at 3:00 in the morning to get to Chelan in time for the boat!) He was so excited to see us and did something I had yet to see him do--join us in bed and curl up at our feet, as if he’d keep a closer eye on us from now on.
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dorothydelgadillo · 6 years
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4 Reasons Why Older People Should Make a Career Change
People interested in changing up their professional lives are often given pause by one factor: if they’re too old to make a career change. Whether people are in their 20’s, 40’s, 60’s, or beyond, there’s a lot of angst around the idea of it being “too late” to make a change. But the simple fact is that it’s never too late—if you’re alive, you’ve got time and a chance to transition your career into work that better supports you financially, satisfies you creatively, fits into your life schedule-wise, or whatever your specific needs may be.
However, if you’re 40 or older it’s easy to think this doesn’t apply to you. As someone who changed careers at the age of 40 myself, I can tell you that mid-life career change is not only possible, it’s actually an ideal time to make that change. In order to give you a clear picture of why, I spoke with other professionals who made career changes later in life and broke down the key reasons why older people are uniquely positioned to do so.
Career Change Can Be a Vehicle for Mid-Life Flexibility
Younger workers are either just starting out in their career path or establishing themselves in their career field, and so it’s natural for people in their 20’s or 30’s to be fully immersed in work. However, things can start to change by age 40 and beyond. For those of us older adults who are looking at middle age, we often find ourselves facing a different set of responsibilities and personal needs. Whether we have kids that we’re caring for, our own aging parents who need help, or we’re simply so settled into our familiar work routine that we’re craving new challenges and ways to contribute to the world, many older workers are in a time of shifting focus and increased responsibilities.
Of course, there are only so many hours in a day, and if most of those hours are spent commuting to an office job, working at that job, and schlepping back home, there isn’t much time left to do anything else. This a challenge for anyone who works in a physical workplace, but it’s particularly limiting when you’re an older adult juggling the needs of so many different people. The good news is, work doesn’t have to be a limitation. One of the most ideal kinds of career transition for older workers is one that involves flexible work—it’s precisely that need for flexibility that turns middle age into a perfect time for making a career change. But what exactly does a flexible career look like, and how can you get there?
Flexible jobs range across a number of categories, with the amount of positions considered “flexible” continuing to grow in the U.S. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS), in 2017 more than 16 percent of U.S. workers participated in flexible contract work as their primary job, which was a 56 percent increase over the previous 10 years. These jobs can vary from high paying part-time work as dental hygienists, registered nurses, and librarians, to freelance roles, many of which can be done remotely from your home or personal office. These freelance and remote positions include jobs like front end website developers, digital marketers, and copywriters. Of course, one of the hurdles to mid-life career change is the time it might take to learn the skills or get the credentials necessary for career reinvention—changing careers to something with a more flexible schedule sounds great, but not necessarily if a successful career change takes years of retraining.
While some new careers do require credentials like a bachelor’s degree in a subject you don’t have (and don’t necessarily want to spend the time picking up), there are plenty of flexible options whose skills can be learned in a matter of months or less. Getting versed in the basics of front end web development, for instance, can be completed in months, and HTML (one of the most fundamental web development skills) is learnable in weeks. With these timeframes in mind, it’s clear how artificial many constraints keeping people stuck in their current job really are. With the BLS citing median web developer pay at $67,990 a year, you can see that a minimal investment in time and training can pay dividends in a robust career that can be executed from your own home, adding precious time back to your schedule to care for your family, volunteer in a community garden, or write the novel you’ve been meaning to get to since you were in your 20’s.
It’s also worth noting that career change doesn’t always require a complete change of industry. Finding ways to work for yourself in an industry you’re already familiar with can be another gateway to flexibility and work-life balance (and one that comes with the bonus of transferable skills). Nicol Stolar-Peterson is a child custody evaluator and expert witness who jumped to her current role around the age of 40, after spending 11 and a half years working for Child Protective Services. Stolar-Peterson says that her former employer had the option to move her between offices within 50 miles of her home at will—which they did. “Two hours a day in a car and leaving my children to be raised in daycare was horrible,” Stolar-Peterson says. “Ironically, I was at an agency for child protection but I wasn’t set up to support my own family schedule and time.”
Stolar-Peterson eventually used the skills and experience she had to enter private practice, and now has the flexibility of being her own boss—something that not only allows her to spend more time with her own children, but also gave her space to develop a sideline career selling skincare products. “It’s something I do because it’s fun,” Stolar-Peterson says. “When I’m selling skincare products, no one wants to kill me, it makes people happy, it has nothing to do with child abuse, and it’s residual income—which is great when you come from a pay by the hour type job. It’s also something I wouldn’t have been to able to do before changing careers.”
New Careers Offer New Retirement Solutions
For older adults in our 40’s and beyond, we grew up with the idea that people worked until the age of 65, after which they retired from the workforce. As it turns out, we might have been the last generation raised on that model. Just like the traditional paradigm of the 9-5 office job has shifted in recent years, so have traditional notions of retirement. According to the BLS, in 2014 40 percent of people aged 55 and older were still working or actively looking for work. The BLS adds that this participation rate among older workers is expected to increase—particularly among baby boomers aged 65-74 and older—through 2024. People are working later in life for a number of reasons: longer life expectancy, higher rates of education, changes to Social Security benefits and employee retirement plans, and the need to save more for retirement when it actually comes.
Through both want and need, older adults are working longer than ever before, but that doesn’t mean doing the same job all the way into your golden years. Hand-in-hand with a need for flexibility, the need or desire to extend your working life makes mid-life career change a golden opportunity. Depending on your financial needs or personal desire to stay active, the same kind of jobs that allow flexibility can also give you a platform for working on your own terms without staying on the grind of full-time employment for the rest of your life. Again, the BLS points to self-employment, freelance “gig work”, and part-time work as new career alternatives increasingly occupied by older workers.
Shonda Brock spent eight years in the United States Army, followed by 17 in medical sales before making the jump into running her own home care company at the age of 47. “Around my late 30’s and early 40’s I started to realize I had no vision of a career end-game,” Brock says. “I was doing well, I’d received promotions, but my gut was telling me I wouldn’t be able to retire in medical sales no matter what title or achievement I accomplished. I knew it wouldn’t be enough to secure my future. The industry was too fickle. Eventually I decided the answer was to run my own company.” Once she came to this decision, Brock spent a few years analyzing her professional strengths and weaknesses as well as what the market could bear to generate an income, and eventually landed on home care. “Now, as a CEO, I still worry about profitability and how it will contribute to retirement down the road, but I feel confident that it’s achievable and sustainable,” Brock says. “I feel better about my work overall, too—I enjoy what I do and I love the service I provide. The business is mine, and—most importantly—I have a vision for my future.”
Skill Set and Flexibility Trump Ageism
As much as making a career change fits the needs of older workers, and despite the fact that older people are active in the workforce more than ever before, the BLS points to data that shows ageism is still a real obstacle facing mid-life job seekers. In a study conducted by the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco, researchers found that the callback rate for sample job interviews was lower for older applicants across the board. In summary, from a pool of more 40,000 job applicant profiles, statistical evidence showed that job seekers 64-66 years of age experienced more age discrimination than job seekers aged 49-51, while older women experience more age discrimination in hiring than men do.
So does this suggest staying put at a job you already have as an older worker makes more sense than trying to start over with a new career? Not necessarily. The jobs applied for in the BLS-cited study were administrative assistant jobs for female job seekers, janitorial and security guard jobs for male job seekers, and retail sales positions for both genders. While obviously unfair and backwards, these are jobs where perception of appearance and physical ability are primed for age-related prejudice—which again speaks to the advantage of jobs that rely entirely on a learned skill set and that can be performed flexibly or remotely. Web developer skills, for instance, don’t discriminate. You either know how to code a website or you don’t. And the remote nature of jobs like web development mean that prospective employers may not even meet job seekers face-to-face—which doesn’t excuse ageism on the part of hiring managers, but it does put you in position to outperform expectations a prejudiced hirer might have in a more conventional office setting. Similarly, self employment allows you to rise and fall based on the ideas, skills, and entrepreneurship you to bring to market.
Lisa Wells worked for 20 years as an in-house staff publicist for brands like Reem Acra, Tumi, and Hickey Freeman before transitioning into owning her own consulting business six years ago. While her age never felt like a constraint to her, she started to face age-related challenges to her career around the time she turned 50. “I had been interviewing for a few months for a new staff position and found that I wasn’t getting anywhere,” Wells says. “I can’t help but think my age was the main reason I couldn’t find a new staff position when I started looking.” Some of Wells’ colleagues started to recommend her for consulting projects, which led her to start her own business, and hasn’t looked back. “For the most part, as a consultant, my age isn’t an issue.” Wells says. “I stand behind the work that I do for my clients and the accounts appreciate my hard work.”
Of course, age prejudice and discrimination will persist, but flexible work arrangements like freelance jobs and self employment are key tools for remove those barriers and proof that mid-life career change is not only possible, but beneficial as you move into your next phase of life and work.
Happiness Is a Critical Factor
Often overlooked in conversations on work and career is the notion of happiness—productivity, success, and professionalism are presented as the tenets of work, while happiness is relegated to the rest of your life. But guess what? It’s hard to be productive, successful, or professional without a healthy work-life balance, and general happiness relies on that balance. The BLS cites a National Bureau of Economic Research study that finds a direct correlation between happiness at work and a smaller “weekend effect”—the degree to which employees’ emotions on the weekend affect their experience during the work week. This study reveals that full-time workers receive double the impact from weekend feelings of happiness, anger, enjoyment, and stress than their part-time counterparts. Meanwhile, weekend effects are three times as much for employees in work environments they consider negative than those who report having good social interactions at work.
Studies like these show that work can never be completely walled off from the rest of our lives, and therefore happiness at both work and home are essential to personal wellness. By the time you’ve reached your 40’s and beyond, why go any further selling yourself short? It’s time to find a career that fulfills you financially, professionally, creatively, and emotionally. Making a career change mid-life won’t be without it’s challenges—leaving the security of a boring or negative but stable job for the uncertainty of self employment or a new industry takes courage—but the positive results can be life-changing.
Stolar-Peterson admits that the combination of changing her career and doing so in her 40’s definitely caused her some concern. “I was so worried that people would think I was having a mid-life crisis, or that I’d lose my life and identity as a social worker and I wouldn’t know who I was anymore,” Stolar-Peterson says. “My doubts were like explosions of fear going off in my head, but I decided that my desire to show up for my kids and for myself was larger than my fears. So I did. I had to tell my own head noise that it was okay to succeed. It was okay to make money. It was okay to show my daughters that you can make changes. Ultimately I realized that even by changing my work to something else, I was still me—well actually a smarter and better me.” And now? Stolar-Peterson says she feels so much better about her career and her life: “I love being my own boss. I ‘appreciate’ my workload because I truly earned it myself. I appreciate walking my children into school and getting to know their friends and their parents. I can proudly say, ‘I am a business owner.’ It’s not easy, but it was so worth it and I am so glad that I jumped.”
Whatever specific career change your path might take, the takeaway here is that there’s no time like the present. You’re never too old to change, and—in fact—those of us who have been around the block a few times are actually in a perfect position to make that change happen.
from Web Developers World https://skillcrush.com/2018/05/08/older-people-should-make-a-career-change/
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