#although if I had to guess I still spent a good 20 hours on it at least

[oh-allie]

and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like...

dr ratio x fem!reader

(sorry if hes ooc i didnt know how to bring out his assholeyness on a first date withour having the reader standing up and leaving his ass)

pt. 2 of then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two

four days before the date.

you made veritas feel icky. his sweaty palms disgusted him, his jumbled thoughts made him feel like hiding in his study and never leaving, and the way even thinking of you made his heart race made him feel like a fool.

so he did what he does best, and he studied. he worked his ass off. researched breathing exercises and studied the human mind. the feelings he'd read about before, ones he swore he'd never stoop so low to feeling, were now what he seeked to bottle up. not completely, for he is still a man. just enough to not feel like such an idiot.

for the next four days before you two planned to meet, he practiced. in front of mirrors, lying in bed thinking of you; he worked day and night to get back to his normal self. he even suppressed his giddiness and raging thoughts about you enough to get two good days of work in.

7 hours before the date.

ratio is a methodical man. he plans and he executes.

he did not plan to wake up at 3 in the morning the day of your date. and he can’t get back to sleep. he's done his calming breathing exercises, he’s focused his muscle groups, hes counted sheep. he is NOT getting any more rest.

so now hes sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands like that one picture of shinji. a plethora of thoughts are racing through his head,

“what if i look like shit later today?

...i’ll need to wear concealer with my eyeliner today…

...i’m so fucking tired.”

but it's mainly you. what if he messes up, what if he's too rude or snarky? what if you don't really like who he is, like everyone else?

3 hours before the date.

you know how in films the dorky loser main character practices in front of the mirror before talking to their crush? veritas seemed to take it to heart, as he's standing here, leaning on his sink counter, staring at his own reflection (which he spent the last four hours on) and practicing what he’ll do.

his mind is organized and going over what he’ll do (although he's heavily suppressing the jumbled nervous thoughts that are running rampant in the back of his head) but it’s okay! ‘cause this doctor has a plan..!

talk about her outfit

ask her why she was interested in you

… the weather ?

surely the conversation will flourish from there. yeah. he’s totally prepared.

30 minutes before the date.

of course he’s 30 minutes early. if you’re early, you’re on time. if you're on time, you're late. and if you’re late? don’t bother showing up. that's his philosophy. although he's kinda hoping you don’t show up early too. his deep breathing exercises will take at least another 20 minut-

29 minutes before the date.

shit.

he watches as you enter the cafe, nodding to the barista and looking for a table. he notices you noticing him. your eyes light up and you sent a quick wave as you hurry over. but- wait, just a second- he’s not ready! he hasn't even started his affirmatio-

“hey! i guess we had the same idea, huh?” you chuckle, situating yourself and your bag onto your chair.

uh-oh, he’s just staring at you again. well, that's actually completely and totally 100% your fault! he was in the middle of DEEP-BREATHING. don’t interrupt a guy when he's breathing deeply.

“yes. we did. my philosophy on punctuality is that if you’re early, you’re on time. if you're on time, you're late. and if you’re late? don’t bother showing up.” he manages to get out. did that sound too snobbish?

“exactly! if you’re going somewhere, go with a purpose. even if that purpose is to get out as soon as possible, y’know?” you rest your head on your hand and make some relevant motion with the other one.

that's good! that's really good. he just had a conversation with you, just like he wanted. okay, okay. what now? what were his points?... outfit, interest, weather. outfit, interest, weather. outfit…

“are you going to order, veritas?” the sound of his own name from your tongue draws him back to reality. he’d like to hear that again.

“pardon me. yes, i’ll just take a black coffee.” he’s curt and in the back of his mind he's still deciding which point to bring up.

“sooo…. you look lovely. although i almost didn't recognize you without your alabaster head. i like it though.” you say, making small talk. he didn't mind it with you.

‘FUCK she beat me to it’ is what he’s thinking.

“thank you. you look beautiful, as always.” oooo he got you blushing and kicking your feet.

you let out a curt giggle at that, “so, why do you wear that? the alabaster head.” you cock your head to the side a little. you cutie patootie.

“i can’t bear to see idiots. of course, they wouldn't want to see me either.” he replies, matter of factly.

“they’re surely an idiot if they don't want to see you.”

haaah. veritas’ collar feels tighter and his head's getting hot. how's he supposed to react to that? do you have no shame?

and then he implodes because of your overwhelming beauty

okay guys i gotta be honest i have no idea how to conclude rhis ....so idk and then you guys bone or whatever you want ☺️

a/n - i'm so sorry about rhe ending gang but i quite literally could not think of any way to end this and ive been putting it off for weeks so i knew it wasnt getting finished.... whoops! 🤗

dedicated to 🌸 anon <3

(sorry for making you wait so long ml....... 😞)

[inawickedlittletown]

We've Got A Long Way To Go (BuckTommy) - 22/22

Summary: A few months after the break up, Buck picks up a call that changes everything. Tommy has his own regrets, and an unexpected meeting and a change in Buck's life will bring them together. Fix-it fic. Words: 1.3k Read on Ao3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Bonus Scenes

-

Epilogue

“—Happy Birthday to you!” 

Lucas let out a loud giggle, clapping his hands to his mouth as everyone sang to him. The whole of the 118 and their families were there along with Lucy and Melton. A few of the kids from daycare and their parents were there too. The cake Evan had spent hours on the day before had a huge number two on it. Their voices had melded into something somewhat coherent as they sang to Lucas. 

“Come on, time to blow the candle,” Evan said, standing right behind Lucas. 

Lucas leaned forward and blew. He had to try it a few more times and Evan had to offer a bit of help, before the candle finally went out. He clapped his hands and one of them went right into the frosting. He brought his hand to his mouth. Tommy hoped desperately that someone had gotten a picture of that. 

“Alright, alright,” Evan said, taking the cake out of Lucas’ reach. 

“Here,” Hen said, “I’ll help cut.” 

Tommy meanwhile, brought a wet wipe over to clean Lucas’ hands before he got whatever sticky residue he hadn’t managed to lick off anywhere else like his birthday outfit, although Tommy thought it was hopeless to try and keep it stain free. 

“Tommy, cake,” Lucas said. 

“Boy after my own heart,” Tommy said. 

Over the last two weeks there had been a lot of cake for them to try as Evan perfected the recipe. Then there were all the different frostings to try. He and Lucas had been the main testers, but Evan had branched out to the rest of the 118 as well as everyone at Harbor. Tommy would never forget the day that he got a panicked text from Howie asking if he and Buck were okay. Tommy had called him at once. 

“Why are you asking that?” 

“Well he just dropped by with piles of cake,” Howie responded. “Did something happen? Does Maddie need to beat you up?” 

Tommy hadn’t been able to contain his own laughter. “Howie, your wife is eight months pregnant, do not give her the wrong idea. He’s trying to figure out what kind of cake to bake for Lucas’ birthday.” 

“Oh. Can’t you guys just go to Hen’s cake guy?” 

“Evan wants Lucas to have homemade birthday cakes,” Tommy explained. 

It wasn’t even that Evan liked to bake and was good at it. The cake he’d made for Lucas was something of a marvel and if he ever did want to leave firefighting, there was nothing to say that Tommy wouldn’t support Evan going into baking professionally. It was more to do with Tommy himself and Tommy was still touched by the gesture. Before his mom died, the one thing that Tommy remembered from his birthdays were the desperately awful birthday cakes his mom made for him. They were dry and dense and the frosting was the store bought kind. Actually, the cakes were probably even made from a box. It didn’t change how much Tommy loved them or what it meant to him looking back. When he mentioned that to Evan, it had led to Evan wanting to make Lucas’ birthday cake. 

“You really got the domestic Buckley, didn’t you,” Howie had said then. “Though I guess considering how much cake I have on my counter right now I’m benefitting too.” 

At the moment, Maddie was sitting in the armchair Evan had insisted on bringing out to the backyard, her feet up on a footstool. Nothing seemed to be making her entirely comfortable, but she had a couple more weeks left before her due date. Lucas had been over with her earlier in the day touching her pregnant belly and feeling the baby kick. 

“Cake, cake, cake,” Lucas said. 

“And for the birthday boy,” Karen said. 

“Cake!” Lucas exclaimed, grabbing for it. 

“Thanks, Karen,” Tommy said, taking the plate himself and taking Lucas to a chair where he could make the least mess possible. 

Lucas had just dived straight into his cake with his hands when he felt Evan come up behind him, a hand landing on Tommy’s back. 

“Hey,” Tommy said, turning to meet Evan’s lips in a chaste kiss. 

“Cake?” 

“Absolutely,” Tommy said. 

Evan chuckled. “I’m glad one of us isn’t sick of cake,” he said as he passed a plate over. 

Evan stayed by his side while he ate and Tommy took a quick glance around. Hen and Karen were over by Maddie and Chim. Bobby was sitting with Athena. Lucy and Ravi had drawn Melton into some sort of discussion that involved a lot of gesticulating. Denny and Mara seemed to be racing to finish their cake and Jee-Yun was sitting with some of the kids from daycare. 

“All done,” Lucas announced. 

His cheeks were sticky from the frosting and his hands even worse. Evan took a picture of him before anything else. 

“We’re going to wash up first.” 

“Otay.” 

Tommy watched them go. Nothing could have predicted this for him, but he was so glad for it. 

The party began to wind down over the next hour, everyone beginning to trickle out until it was just Bobby and Athena hanging back to help them clean up. Lucas attached himself to Bobby, already flagging a little from the excitement and all the energy that had been spent. So between him, Evan, and Athena they put the backyard to rights. 

“Thanks for sticking around,” Tommy said to Athena. 

“It’s no trouble. I know what the aftermath of these things look like. May’s parties were the worst and I was always glad to have a helping hand.” 

Between the three of them they had it done before long and Evan put the kettle on to make them all tea. Bobby had managed to put Lucas down for a nap right on the living room couch. His presents they put down in a pile in the living room for him to get into when he woke. 

The adults all sat at the kitchen island. 

“Two years old,” Evan said. “So is what they say right about the terrible twos?”

Bobby chuckled and Athena laughed. 

“They do call it that for a reason,” Athena said. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t something the two of you can’t handle.” 

“Right,” Evan said, bringing his cup to his lips. 

“You’ve done very well so far,” Athena said. 

“You really have, Buck,” Bobby said. “He’s healthy and happy and he’s adjusted well after losing his parents. I’m not saying you won’t make mistakes or that you haven’t already, but the thing that matters is how happy he is. How loved he feels.” 

Tommy could tell that it had touched Evan to hear that. His voice was full of emotion when he thanked Bobby and then he saw the way that he hugged Bobby when he was saying goodbye. 

After Athena and Bobby left, they both settled down with Lucas in the living room. Evan had sat down first and in what was a familiar position for them, Tommy sat down in front of him, resting his head on Evan’s shoulder, Evan’s arms around him. 

Tommy hadn’t realized how tired he was from the party and all the stuff that had come before. Decorating and preparing the food and just hosting. It was a good thing they had both taken the whole weekend off to celebrate Lucas’ birthday. They had plans to spend the next day just the three of them starting with a visit to the zoo. 

“What are you thinking about?” Evan asked. 

“Just how much I’m looking forward to more of this,” Tommy said. “All of his birthday parties. The way it feels to have everyone show up and be here for it. We’ll get to give him everything we never had.” 

“I like the sound of that,” Evan said. “And I am so glad I get to do this with you.” 

Evan kissed the side of his head, lingeringly. 

[fuszulykaleves]

Guess who's back? (Snoop doooog!!!) ((forgot to say, i appreciate those 3-4 of you who read my ramblings and found it entertaining, ty for the comments!))

Ok, so last time i spent an hour writing down my thoughts and i only covered 20 minutes of the production. I'm not even halfway...sigh...(this may take a while to finish..)

So, we left of at the nobles leaving, now István is crying about the fact that he has to fight his uncle for the throne.

Also István looks like he just barely escaped from his wedding night duty. Again the music randomly picks up speed and... i dunno man, i guess it's for dramatic effect? But, you don't need it? The piece was already written with drama in mind. Oh, well.

(What better place for a heart to heart than next to a dead body, eh?)

Man, i just mentioned István escaping his bedroom duty, and who shows up? Fucking Gizella, moaning about being horny!

He kisses her on the forehead and leaves her alone (this is how the canon Sasuke/Sakura couple looks like).

Ugh, I HATE this song! (hate let me tell you, how much I've come to HATE you,)

She sings how much she hates politics and blah blah blah, lets move on pleaaaaaase! But no, they are singing in german too, and now they sound like a broken record repeating the same line over and over and over and over and over, and more people are coming to the stage and they are still repeating the same thing for almost a whole ass minute.

Moving on, finally, István is chosen as the next Lord, not much to say, other than the pagans finally take Laborc off the stage.

(poor guys been laying there for so long)

They are folk dancing to a slow number and i don't know how to feel about it. Dissonance.

(You had 0 reason to sit so close to her... there was literally a whole empty stage, you could have chosen any other place!)

(I don't like this, why are they sharing this weirdly romantic moment aren't they supposed to be cousins?!)

My god, he is crawling on the floor after her and she is not even fighting to get away. I like the expression on the shaman's face, he is so done with this shit.(im only guessing the guy in red is the shaman, we will see shortly)

Shaman walks in, sniffs loudly, slowly climbs the stairs (no music, of course, in this production we like awkward silences), high fives the conductor, pretends he is a rockstar asking if everyone is having a good time (no) and then he starts playing.

"Let's listen to Lord Koppány!" the music stops, Koppány walks back yells "NA!" the music starts again.... honestly if you don't know any hungarian with this one (1!) word people will understand you. It can be used in whatever situation you need.

The war cries are back, and Koppány still can't sing (ok he can, his voice is just not made for this role).

(some people still have mud on their face)

(these three just strutted across the stage, like they own it, slay i guess)

This is a surreal experience I have no other words for it.

Koppány's wives start stripping him, while he is stone faced. These 3 women are at his feet crawling on the ground and he has 0 reaction. Like at most, he is annoyed!

He is annoyed, he is so mean to them! Like, "Ugh, I'm so tired of these women throwing themselves at me!", he pushes them away, even tho the lyrics make it seem like its hard for him to resist them, what is this?

They are scared of him! They take a few steps back when he addresses them, what???

Nobles are back, and for one, they are on time. Although, the song gets sped up to comical levels.

The shaman tries mongolian throat singing.... to some degree of success....

I....I don't know, how to describe the following events....

Ok, so, some guys come back splattered in blood carrying these... drums? I don't know what to call them...they start playing and the shaman just ??? imitates a dying monkey.... I don't have any other words to describe this.

He starts smoking a joint....

(yeah, you need it bud)

Everyone is wilding, the shaman is dancing around, they kill a plastic horse? (I hate it. It's too over the top for me...)

Réka tries pleading with his father to no avail, and the scene just lacks weight. Koppány simply doesn't have the range or the strength of voice to make this scene good. He sounds like a little girl whining., why is he trying so hard to hit those high notes? Start lower my dude!

I'm skipping a lot, I ran out of things to say without starting to repeat myself. Anyways, Koppány fights against István, gets defeated by crosses.

Harold is back! Yipeee!... tries to comfort Réka, keyword on tries.

So, István won and now everyone wants to get their share of spoils, István looks reluctant about it all, Gizella is seemingly having an affair with one of the soldiers (?).

Let's just get this guy quartered so i can be free.

(what the hell is this)

As the music swells these 4 groups of people just fall to the ground, and scene falls flat with it.

Ok, István comes on stage, Asztrik is asking his questions about him keeping the sacred religion and all that, but Itsván is taking an eternity to answer yes! Why? Count to 3, not 5, not 2 ("unless you continue your count to 3!"). Asztrik sounds bored too. He shouts "AMEN!" and finally István is fucking king. I'm done.

Let's conclude.

-The good:

-there were no over the top costumes, everyone wore normal clothes, the main characters had fancier dresses, so you could tell them apart

-the beginning had a great visual

-The bad:

-everything else

In conclusion, you could make a drinking game out of how many times you cringe, or how many unnecessary silences there are, but i would advise against it, 'cuz you would get alcohol poisoning.

The end.

[coming-up-with-usernames-is-hard]

PhD Blog Week 18

Courses

Solitons: More scattering problems, and brief discussion of inverse scattering problems, losing faith that this is ever going to become interesting, still haven't actually seen any solitons beyond the initial discussion of lecture 1

Rep theory: started off with some pretty satisfying results about characters which felt like we were finally using some of the theory we've built up, then did a bit of applications to number theory, which not knowing any number theory I couldn't really see the point of anything we were doing

Hopf algebras: I gave my talk on string diagrams, I think it went quite well, and I seem to have convinced most people that string diagrams are a good way to do things. The lecturers computer crashed again so another lecture cut short by 20 minutes of technical difficulties. Particularly annoying this week as it was supposed to be all of the examples of Hopf algebras this week. Instead we got a rushed explanation of the examples that I alraedy know, skipping most of the new examples, and then the dreaded schemes, one day I'll learn some algebraic geometry

Talks

Algebra preseminar was "Variety hour" this week, which meant all of us had to give a 5 minute talk, which I forgot about until the morning of. I ended up talking about the Boson-Fermion correspondence, I think it went well, but I was a bit rushed explaining the action on the Fermion side

Didn't go to the algebra seminar, I needed to write my string diagrams talk, and no integrable systems talk either

Supervisor Meeting

Finally finished reading the chapter of the book we've been looking at for about a month, and I think I'm starting to understand the bigger picture

Got tasked with doing something new for the first time, I have to do a calculation using the graphical calculus of the Fermions, hopefully this will give us new insight or a way to more efficiently do the combinatorics of these interactions

Group Project

Had our first proper meeting, set out a rough outline, and I've now started reading for the chapter I have to write. Slightly annoyed at the lack of any examples that aren't U_q(sl_2).

Spent far too much time in the meeting arguing over a colour scheme for our report, really focusing on the important things

Teaching

First year maths tutorial was fine, although making students calculate Riemann sums with 8 rectangles by hand twice seems a bit harsh

Dynamical systems: mostly fine, drawing phase plots, everyone was pretty much stuck on the same idea, which is that isoclies don't really make sense, and I kind of have to agree, I guess they're useful for more complicated diagrams but they just caused confusion for most people

[beingdreeyore]

I haven't been around here much lately. Haven't been reading up on everyone or updating about my own world. I'm not really sure why. I'm just busy, I guess.

Life is quiet, but not in a bad way. There have been some setbacks, but they've been manageable. There have been some wins, they've been appreciated.

I passed another assessment last week. I have more results coming out this week. I've prepared to fail the one this week as I know how low the average mark is, how few people pass, and how much I struggled to keep time in the exam. I'm prepared for it as much as you can be. The anxiety will still hit as I'm opening the result and there will be a sense of defeat and disappointment when I finally see the mark there. But I have my plan in place already to resit. I know where I went wrong.

A cardigan I lusted for three Christmases ago was suddenly re-released in a limited run and I spent more than I should on shipping to Australia. I've worked nearly 20 hours overtime this week. I earned it. I'm not even sure that's really who I am or if it's even my style anymore, but I wanted it for so long... I guess deep down I'm still daydreaming about that white Christmas that is unlikely to happen.

My dance studio closed and my teacher deleted a select few of us off her social media. There was no explanation. It was like getting dumped or ghosted without explanation or warnings. I've spoken to others though and it's funny, the thing they always say to me is how shocked they are that I was one of those deemed unworthy given the unwavering loyalty I showed her. It hurt at first but I've made peace with it now. I thought we were friends, she has clearly communicated we aren't. Life goes on. I've started looking at new studios, mainly to force myself out of my bubble but I don't know if I'll go. I'm in the gym four or five days a week and I dance once a week at home. I'm content in the bubble for now. I'm not lonely, but I wonder if I should be. I even thought about joining the weightlifting club in the city, but I don't know... They have a masters team and it would probably be good to meet people. The bubble is so nice right now though.

I'm on track to finally (FINALLY) be done with my psychiatry training at the end of August next year. My compulsory five years of psychiatry training will be up then and by some miracle I may actually finish all the assessments on time (which is very much the exception. The typical time is about 7 years). So big decisions are coming for my life. Where to next...? I think I'll leave the city. There's nothing here for me anymore. My closest friends all live in other cities and other countries. I'm still single. Once the paperwork comes through saying I'm finished I'm free to work as much or as little as my financial situation dictates - the hospital no longer gets to have a say. And for the first time I have some say over which hospital it will be. It gets overwhelming to think about. I don't tell anyone because everyone immediately wants to know what my plans are. I don't know yet. My plan is to keep crawling to the finish line. Beyond that? I have no clue.

So I guess that's me? It's not a lot, but it's okay. There are no men. No prospects. No echoes from the past. It's quiet. And that's okay. It's peaceful. My standards have changed. My non-negotiables too. If that keeps me alone, that's okay. Although if you knew how long it had been since... Ahem... Well, actually, you probably do know. I wrote about it at the time. It was the last time I saw J.

So that's life. And it's not a lot. But it really is okay.

[loudgibbon]

Aldrin

during the historic moon landing, Buzz Aldrin reportedly said, "There's a monolith on the moon of Mars, and there's a very unusual structure on this little potato-shaped object that goes around Mars once in seven hours. When people find out about that, they're going to say, 'Who put that there? Who put that there?' Well, the universe put it there, or if you choose, God put it there." These claims were quickly dismissed as Aldrin speaking metaphorically, or that the light had been playing tricks on his eyes, but what if he actually did see something up there, something not quite human.

July 17, 1969, 13:32 UTC

It's been a little over a day since we launched; it doesn't feel like it's been that long. I thought I knew what space looked like, but the pictures back home don't do it justice. It is somehow bigger than I expected. Also, the sun is white up here, not yellow for those interested, and it's really bright. Mission control says we will land in just over three days and six hours. I hope Michael brought his cards. :)

July 17, 1969, 17:09 UTC

Earth is really small from where I'm sitting. It's weird feeling so small, like ants sitting on a leaf in the middle of the ocean. We build our ant hills and go about our day-to-day lives thinking we are in control, but we can't tell the ocean what to do. We are completely at its mercy. All it would take is one wave, and humanity would just be a memory. Maybe not even that if there isn't anyone around to remember.

July 17, 1969, 20:25 UTC

Turns out it only takes about three and a half hours to get bored of pondering the nature of the universe. Michael did, in fact, bring his cards, so I have been playing solitaire and crazy eights for a bit. But it is surprisingly hard when the cards try to float away. Neil is still glued to the window. Try as we might, he won't come play with us. He just talks about how this is the opportunity of a lifetime and how he isn't going to miss a minute, which is fair, I guess. I just hope he does it quietly so I can try to get some shut-eye.

July 18, 1969, 03:15 UTC

I'm writing this time in hopes of calming my nerves so I'm able to get back to sleep. About thirty minutes ago, we started getting alerts from mission control about the Apollo's trajectory slipping off course, which is weird in and of itself because I adjusted it before I went to sleep, and it shouldn't have needed adjusting for another six hours. But the weirdest thing was Neil was still awake, staring out that window with a look on his face like he had a full Thanksgiving feast laid out in front of him. I swear he was even drooling, although he will probably deny it. While I adjusted our course, Michael tried to talk some sense into our "fearless leader," but when I finished, Michael still hadn't been able to get Neil to do so much as peel his fat head off the window. I tried giving him a few good shakes, and that seemed to do the trick. I asked him what was wrong, but it turns out he had just fallen asleep with his eyes open. Creepy if you ask me. He told us not to report what had happened after Michael said it would make for a funny story back home. Neil said he thought mission control might make us turn around if they thought something was wrong. It took a little convincing, but me and Michael finally did agree. I know it's not protocol or even the right thing to do, but damn it, I really want to put the Aldrin name in the history books. Anyway, Neil has decided to go to sleep, and Michael volunteered to keep watch over our course just in case anything weird happens again. I'll try to get Neil to open up more in the morning, just to make sure he really is all right.

July 19, 1969, 12:04 UTC

We are a little more than a day from making a landing. I don't know if I'm more excited to be one of the first living creatures to step foot on the moon or to get out of this godforsaken ship. There is a rotten smell like someone's lunch has been left to decompose for a month. We spent all of yesterday looking for it but haven't found so much as a crumb. Again, we didn't report it but I made everyone swear that we would on the way back just in case it is a leak of some kind.

July 21, 1969, 18:24 UTC

We just left the lunar surface. It was incredible; I've never seen something so magnificent yet desolate at the same time. You don't realize how much smaller the moon is than the Earth until you are standing on it; you can literally see the horizon curve. Looking back at the earth is a surreal experience. I felt oddly lonely knowing that this small part of our universe contained all of human experience, well almost all, I guess we changed that today.

July 22, 1969, 7:30 UTC

The Stink Persists. I contacted mission control about it and they were concerned that it could have been a leak, but after going over all the maintenance checks and coming up empty they basically just shrugged and said that it might be psychological and that there is nothing they could do about that so we just have to hope for the best, which isn't exactly the comforting news I wanted.

July 22, 10ish

I swear if I didn't need these two idiots to get back home I would have committed murder by now. I don't know if it's the news we got from M.C. or the shitty food, but these two clowns refuse to talk to me. They are just sitting there looking out the windows, only responding enough to shoo me away when I block their view. I don't see what could be so entertaining out there.

5 pm

Our course keeps drifting; it's at the point that I have to readjust it every half hour. I tried contacting M.C. about it and whatever is wrong with Neil and Michael but all I got was static. I'm starting to think we might not get home after all.

3 am

Remember what I said about getting the Aldrin name in the history books? Yeah, that's definitely happening now. We found something; it's some kind of structure on Deimos, one of Mars’s moons. It's some sort of monolith, all metallic and shiny. It's beautiful. I understand why they wouldn't want to look away; I can barely take my eyes off it to write this. When we get home, people are going to wonder who built this because surely it has a creator. Nothing could be so perfect without one. There is only one creator I know of who is this perfect. This could only have been crafted by divine hands.

???

I've seen them, the divine hands, all around us; they want us to join them for now that we have touched the heavens we must remain. Neil and Michael have already gone but I remain as I fear that my faith is not strong enough to surrender my mortal form to them. I am a weak man, undeserving of being chosen by the divine.

Aug 30th, 1969, 15:30 UTC

It's been a couple of days since we got back home and I just found this journal in a pile of stuff I brought home. I don't remember writing any of this; I don't even remember bringing a journal with me but it's written in my hand and there are things in here that could have only been written by me. Nobody knows about Michael's cards or the way the surface of the moon curved. I don’t know whether or not I should tell anyone about this. Maybe I should go to Neil or Michael, but the things written here give me pause. I have a feeling something isn't right with them; they don't call like they used to, before our expedition. I thought they were just trying to relax, but maybe it's something more than that. For now, I’ll just write this down here so I don't explode from the thoughts bottled up inside me.

[fleurcareil]

East & South Labrador

Drove this day another 406km through the boreal forest from Happy Valley - Goose Bay to the tiny hamlet of Port Hope Simpson, which brought me back to the coast, this time the eastern Labrador shore! Apart from Labrador being the "Big Land" of forests, it's also the big land of flies, which is a bit of a shock to the system after not having had any yet in my travels so far (mosquitos yes but flies are worse). There's the huge flies that sound like a bomb is ready to go off when circling your head 😳 and the tiny ones that are barely noticeable but swarm you in their hundreds. Like a woman told me earlier this week; "they all bite and they're hungry!" 🥺. I had managed to dodge the large flies as they're rather slow but impossible to escape the midgets, however generally there's much less of anything on the coast so that's good news!

I won't bore you with more pictures of ugly trees, but instead here are two from Port Hope Simpson, where - you'll guess it - the first stop was at the gas bar (although I'm back now into safe territory with more gas pumps) and then checked in before 2pm already, even including an extra 30 minute Newfoundland time change, which happens somewhere obscure on the road (doesn't really matter where, as there's nothing anyway 😅). Walked a bit around the harbour and then spent à few lovely hours along the water reading a book - A History of Time by Stephen Hawking that my sister gave me 20 years ago and which is interesting but needs to be read piecemeal, it's been a while since I brushed up on my physics! 😝

In the morning, the weather had done a 180, and changed from a sunny 28 degrees to a foggy & rainy 10 degrees😢. For the next few days, I was bundled up in my thermal underwear, woollen socks (thanks Tara for knitting them!), 3 layers of sweaters, winter coat, hat & gloves, whereas record heat temperatures were broken around the world...

I arrived early at the Mary's Harbour ferry dock so that I could still do a short hike up & down the hill to Gin Cove, which is not too special but still pretty enough and got me warmed up before boarding the little boat to Battle Harbour Historic site where I'm staying the night on the island. Despite the poor weather, I preferred to stay outside to watch for icebergs & whales (none) but I do see a puffin! 😊 With me are two elderly couples from Nova Scotia and Newfoundland who I find out are hyperactive, still scuba diving, skiing and planning a 3-week ATV road trip on their 70th, something to aspire!

Battle Harbour used to be the unofficial capital of Labrador in its heyday when it was the largest cod fishing village on the east coast and had amongst others the first hospital and Marconi wireless station. Some fishermen would stay all year, but most would travel from Newfoundland for the summer. It started declining when the school was relocated to Mary's Harbour but still operated until the cod fishing moratorium was imposed in 1992. The village is now restored and run by a historic trust, which provides visitors an opportunity to stay through all-inclusive packages. Seeing slowly the buildings come out of the clouds as the boat approaches made it even more mystical!

I'm staying in the bunkhouse all by myself (which I had already been counting on 😁) which was the original cookhouse built in the 1770's. After delicious lunch, we were given an elaborate tour of the buildings, which was really interesting as it was led by a 6th generation islander, who had lots of personal stories of how she helped salt the cod. Similarly, the handyman on the boat was one of the 10-year old boys who found a plane wreck the day after it had crashed in the fog  (and which I saw myself also in the fog), so that truly connects the history to the present...unsurprisingly, they're still bitter about what happened with the fishery as it destroyed their community, and some of the blame was given to the sharply increasing seal population since the hunt was forbidden in the 80's, which likely has a grain of truth (though most of the blame went to the federal government)... Despite the pouring rain, I decide to take a little hike around the island in the hope to spot icebergs (as there were 3 the day before) but all I got were beautiful landscapes and getting fully soaked. 😜

Over the communal dinner table, I got to know the rest of the guests; an (apparently famous) painter from Newfoundland - Jean-Claude Roy who shares the same first name as my father & comes from the same French region, his somewhat eccentric wife and a guy from North Carolina who is shooting a documentary about JCs relationship with Battle Harbour where he's been painting for over 10 years. The other group consisted of 5 Swedish sailors who toured the world on a yacht, showing breathtaking pics of Antarctica and leaving the next morning for Greenland.... Needless to say that the evening, including a black-white 1930's movie about an Artic exploration followed by beers in the pub, provided lots of interesting conversations! Compared to this lot, my road trip is really not that special😁.

I try another hike in the morning but the fog is even worse, so I give up quickly and instead play a patience card game in front of the wood stove, much better! The way back on the boat is quite rough but all is forgotten when the captain steers us along an iceberg!!💖 I had already seen quite a few in 2010 in Newfoundland but very happy I saw one again! Back on the road, the fog was really bad but when I turned the corner onto the south shore, it suddenly disappeared and I see not one but 3 white blobs on the sea! 😊 Iceberg Alley made its name true and in the next two days I saw a total of 41 icebergs; anything from little "bergy bits" to tabular, drydock, dome & pinnacle shapes, very very cool & unique in the world! Most were farther away and could only be properly seen with the binoculars, but a few were close to shore.               

The Red Bay world heritage site has an interesting history of Basque whaling and a ferry ride to Saddle Island for an interpretative hike, but there's basically nothing left (or it was reburied for preservation) so there's a lot of imagination needed to gather what was there 😂.

After a late lunch I was ready to crash in the hotel being hangover from the night before, but decided to at least drive to the start of the Tracy Hill trail, which is notorious for its 689 steps. The trail builders included corny inspirational quotes to keep you walking, and I must confess that the first one did get me to actually start: "One day or Day one?".  Apart from pretty scenery, every step seemed to show more icebergs; 22 from the top, which was a perfect way to close the day!

The next morning, I woke up again in fog (getting fed up with it now!) so at the lighthouse at L'Anse Amour, I first drank my cup of tea in the car while checking out icebergs and birds. It's the tallest lighthouse in Atlantic Canada which my legs definitely felt when walking up the steps to the Fresnel lens & active light at the top. The Strait of Belle Isle provides a 200km shorter route to Europe than around Newfoundland, but has strong currents, up to 200km/hr winds & often ice, so it has had its fair share of shipwrecks & heroic tales of rescue.

Nearby, a 9,000-year-old burial mound of a Maritime Archaic Indian child was found, representing the oldest known human remains in North America but there's now nothing to see apart from pretty dunes. In L'Anse au Clair I stop at the lovely visitor centre in an old church and do a small hike to an abandoned fishing village called the Jersey Room, after the families that settled here from Jersey island near France.

When I cross into Quebec, it's suddenly 1.5 hours earlier! The entire Atlantic and Newfoundland time zones are undone in a split second, which confuses me in my day-planning and makes it a very loooong day. Checking in at the ferry terminal (more on that later), doing groceries and lunch kept me busy for a bit and then I was off to a viewpoint where I was told you could see one of North America's largest puffin colonies... which are on that island far away in the picture below... I could definitely see with my binoculars it was full of birds but whether they were puffins or gulls?!? 😂 Nearby were again lots of Eider duck so don't think they're that special after all... they seem to do well!

Driving west to the end of the road, there were some more pretty viewpoints and a waterfall, until I reached the Salmon Bay Farm, which is actually a scallops farm located in Salmon Bay. I've toured an oyster farm when I was little in the Netherlands and didn't realize there were also scallop farms until now. After a tour of the on-land facilities and explanation how they're cultivated (interesting titbits; scallop shells grow year rings just like trees so you can count how old they are, and they have up to 200 eyes along the edge of the shell), I chose the left scallop to taste raw (both the muscle and the roe, which were very tender) and also tasted two steamed scallops, which included also the roe as well as the baleen-like frill which is used to filter the water for nutrients. All accompanied with a glass of wine & finished with local jam biscuits, great experience!

Only 15 minutes more to the west, I reach the end of the road, thereby finishing my tour of Labrador of close to 2,000km! It was a long drive of, as someone put it; "trees and rocks, then rocks and trees, and after that trees and rocks again" 🤣 but very happy to have done it and seen this part of Canada! 🍁💖

The only way to complete my loop back to Baie-Comeau is by a 2-day boat trip west until I reach the village of Kegaska where the road starts anew. There's no ferry but instead a cargo boat, so my car needs to be shipped into a container to make the voyage, a first for me! 😃 I was supposed to report this morning at 5:30am but when I dropped by yesterday, I was told that the boat got terribly delayed...likely until 10pm - midnight tonight. Good news is that I could sleep in this morning (although wide awake at 3:45 due to the time difference) and that I have an extra day here - going for a hike once this is posted, but on the flip side, I might now stay two nights onboard sleeping in a chair instead of a hotel, plus may need to cancel an excursion I had already booked for after my arrival. Mother nature is in control so hoping there won't be much more delays! 🤞

As a side note, it's shocking to realize that the time is here the same as it is in Thunder Bay, over 3,000 km to the west! No wonder that it's light so early here...

PS. the boat's departure time has just been updated to 9am tomorrow morning so I can luckily stay another night at the hotel here but will need to adjust my plans forward. It's going to be an interesting few days ahead...

Distance driven this week: 1,954km

Icebergs: 1 from Battle Harbour boat, 6 from the road, 22 from Tracy Hill, 3 from L'Anse Amour, 4 from L'anse au Clair, 6 from Blanc-Sablon

Wildlife: 1 puffin (Battle Harbour boat), 17 female Eider ducks (Red Bay) and 50+ male Eider ducks (Blanc-Sablon), 1 osprey & 50+ Merganser ducks (L'Anse Amour), 1 mink whale & 1 seal (L'Anse au Clair)

SUPs: none

Hikes: one at Mary's Harbour, one at Battle Harbour, two at Red Bay, one at L'Anse au Clair

[newzealandmozsombi]

Crankworx days vol.2

Yesterday I had no shifts but I wanted to check out both the slopestyle and the downhill finals so I basically spent my whole day at the venue. In between the two events I did some biking on the open trails which I didn’t actually like so much. Partly cause I didn’t jam with the trails that much, too fast, dusty, breaking bumps etc and also, funny to admit, but I got a bit self-conscious about my riding due to being around 15 year olds who could beat me on any trail. I felt a bit intimidated I guess. Weird cause it definitely wasn’t my first time riding around “cool kids” but maybe cause the trail spots i’ve been visiting were either empty or the riders were more my age made me forget this feeling and how to overcome it?! Not sure. Anyway, one of the kids also had a massive tumble on a trail right in front of me so that also didn’t help with the confidence.

The slopestyle finals were cool although I am not too crazy about it and honestly by the time of the downhill finals I noticed that I am more keen for some me time than being around a bunch of people and trying to be forced to be hyped for the race by the commentators. I kinda felt like I just had enough of this. Partly cause I spent a good chunk of the last month and a half on my own, both in nature and at campsites, partly maybe cause the connections I made in the past week didn’t always feel as genuine as I would’ve liked them to be (which triggered a bit of loneliness I think) and the constantly trying to be hyped by the organizers was another part of it. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to say that the whole event was bad and I hated it, simply it was more than what I needed and I learned that next time two days would be enough. The downhill race was cool tho, times were tight, racers were going ham, some crashes some wild saves and some chainsaws! By the end of it I was really happy to “go home”.

You can imagine I wasn’t too excited about my last shift today but after a great morning I could still enjoy myself and had a great time at the dual slalom finals. This was my only shift where the race was broadcasted and it really gave me this feeling of “being part of something bigger”. Was cool to see some pro athletes show up to cheer for their teammates and once again I got the chance to chance to some people whom I wouldn’t normally have the chance to talk to. This time it was maddog Boris, a german photographer who is quite well known in the scene. He ended up taking some pictures right next to me and we had a cool chat! Really nice guy!

The dual slalom race itself was awesome to experience being so close to the action again, surprise surprise I got a good spot again that allowed me to see almost the whole course with a few gaps while not really having too much to do (besides finding good footing cause I had to stand on a rather steep slope). There were some serious close calls here as well, enormous hucks (meaning: when a rider tries to do big jump. And not always manages to land where he/she’s supposed to) and a few scary looking but in the end more or less harmless crashes. The shift was long, about 5 hours but didn’t feel too long, had a 20 min break around half-time which allowed me to check out (by accident) the unofficial braaappp competition. For those not familiar with mtb terms, a “brap” (an Onomatopoeia) is the sound the tire makes when a rider, while going through a berm pushes the real wheel into the berm so hard that it makes this sound (and usually the tire lets out some air in the process) and a lot of soil/mud/dust gets thrown into the air. It’s kind of a showing off move, but it’s fun to watch! Anyway there was a burn and a bunch of kids going wild doing braaap after braaap. See video below.

After the dual slalom finals there was supposed to be a last social event for the volunteers but I already felt it last night that no matter how good of an opportunity it would be to meet new people my social battery is dead and I am just not interested in the whole topic, need some change. So I came back to the campsite and made a good ol’ green peas “főzelék” with some fresh parsil that I found at the community herbs garden of the campsite.

Tomorrow I am going to Hobbiton. What more should I say?

Mandatory song suggestion:

Ariel Posen - Be Enough

This guy is a big inspiration in my guitar playing and I do wonder sometimes if I am being a bit insatiable while travelling and wanting more (will it ever be enough - as he sings in the intro) Plus he is canadian and today’s theme was pretty much Canada.

[theretirementstory]

10/11/2024. Bonjour et bienvenue on this Sunday morning when towns and villages in the UK will be commemorating “Remembrance Day”. Here in France Armistice Day is a “jour férié” and the commemoration will take place tomorrow. I have worn my “bleuet” all week in remembrance of two great uncles killed in the Great War and buried here in France.

Weather wise it has been a strange week, we have had sunny afternoons after mist and cloud in the mornings. To see the sun in November, really does make you feel like being outside and smiling. This morning however météo tells me we have 7 (feels like 8c) with 95% humidity. So we have “one misty moisty morning”. Well I should still manage to go to the shop 🚶🏿‍♀️.

I have worked in my garden and the second border now has cardboard and bark down, which is a relief to me.

My cleaner (who has left now) was using Anie as a “go-between” I felt so sorry for her. On Wednesday she had spent the day with family and had driven home in the dark, only to have to come to my house to pick up paperwork and take it to this lady (who was moving the following day). I always think that driving in the dark is very tiring but as always, Anie did not complain.

I was a little stressed on Tuesday as my blood test results showed my platelets had fallen below 20, which I had been viewing as my “new norm”. Anyway I had my transfusion on Thursday and although I did feel better I am very very tired.

Sarah, an English friend who lives in Haute Marne, came to visit on Thursday. She left about 12:15 and goodness me my taxi for the hospital arrived at 12:40……..it was due around 13:30 but there was another person going so that’s why they were early. So my companion was an elderly gentleman, who just happens to be English! As I learned he has lived here since 2013 (so I am not the first English person living here) . We didn’t have a long conversation as he is very deaf so it was a little difficult. Actually when I heard him speaking French I thought that we sounded similar (not necessarily the accent, just the fact that English was our native tongue). In his life he had been a French teacher, he is married to a French lady who was an English teacher. Fascinating, they have been married 64 years 😳.

My appointment with a GP in town was on Friday. He made a home visit and arrived around 11:40. I don’t think he is going to be made permanent until January so couldn’t take me on as a patient yet. However, he checked my blood pressure and my heart and lungs. I have actually seen him before, he is Romanian and speaks really good English so I am pleased. He read the letters from Paris and told me to continue being positive, to keep getting outside and enjoying my garden.

Monique came down for a chat on Friday. I was tired and it was getting dark so she left after an hour and a half. It was nice to see her but my plans for my evening meal were pushed to one side as I started feeling nauseous.

Here is the music section, the first song I thought maybe was just from 10/12 years ago, oh goodness me no! 24 years ago this was released, it’s by Anastacia, “I’m Outta Love” as you will have guessed it was released in 2000.

The second song is by another lady (no longer with us) it’s by Laura Branigan “Gloria” released some 42 years ago in 1982 🙈.

“The Photographer” and “The Jetsetter” went to a restaurant on Thursday, “The Angel on the Green”, I laughed when I heard the name as I know the road it is on and said “there is no green on that road” “The Photographer” replied with “No Angels either” we did laugh!

Yesterday they had a ride out to Wetherby, which stands on the river Wharfe. They spent a pleasant time and “The Photographer” managed to buy a lens for his camera in a charity shop of all places.

It has been “haircut” weekend for “The Solicitor”. We had a lovely long chat on Friday evening then it was an early wake up on Saturday to go to the barbers. Afterwards, it was shopping so hopefully Saturday tea was something delicious. Let’s hope that today is more relaxing for him. Remember positive thinking wins the day 😁. Oh yes, I do hope you like the music choices too 😉.

“The Recovery Coordinator” has had the usual busy week. Yesterday morning she was up to go with “The Solicitor” to the barbers and then shopping. I suppose getting it out of the way on a Saturday means that having a lazy day on a Sunday makes you feel better. By all accounts it is cold in the North East of England and I don’t envy her having to be up early to drive to work. Even if I was well, I would hate the commute, maybe I did it so long. In all my working life I never once worked in the town I lived in. “The Solicitor is fortunate in that it’s only a few minutes walk to his office so no great rush on a morning and home quickly at night.

I spent quite a lot of time collating statements, bills etc which have limits on the length of time they need to be kept here in France. I do it on the computer which can be time consuming if you haven’t done it for a while but it’s satisfying when it’s done. It’s the same with messaging friends, calling family, replying to emails etc it takes a large part of your day. Yesterday I spent time downloading information ready to be filed in the appropriate folders.

Still no news from Paris hospital, so at the moment, I have just one appointment next week in Troyes for my transfusion. Maybe I will get on with the knitting I picked up again. Don’t think I will be doing a jigsaw for a while as it’s nice to have the table free for a while.

Let’s hope that next week is nice enough to let me have my walk, I really must give the car a little run around the block too.

Until the next time…….

[dzpenumbra]

8/21/23

Ugh, I just tried to take my contacts out because my right eye has been aching, and I got that thing where the contact just stuck to my eye and didn't want to come out... That really sucked.

I don't know why these contacts make my eyes hurt so much. My right eye specifically. Whenever I wear them, at the end of the day my eye is just like... aching in the back. I've had contacts forever and I've never had this problem before... and it's been going on since I got the damn things last summer. I even told the eye doctor about it and she just told me it would take me a bit to get used to them. Welp... it's been over a year... still not used to them...

I finally got to go skating today. It was fucking packed at the skatepark. There were like 15-20 people there pretty much the whole time. I spent a good 20-30 minutes at the beginning just sitting down by a ramp on the ground because it was just so hectic and busy, there didn't feel like there was even room to warm up.

I ended up skating for about 2 and a half hours, until it started to get pretty dark out. I'm exhausted. I landed two new tricks today. I got 50-50 to FS 180 out. I did it pretty slow, because the box is small... so I barely even rolled away... but I landed it. And I landed a flatground manual to shove it. I have never landed that trick before, and I landed it a few times. For some reason, I'm more confident committing to that trick than I am to just a normal shove it. But it has been hard for me to shift my weight properly to land it. 5-0 to shove it is like... one of my favorite tricks on snowskate, so it's kind of a no-brainer that I'd get to the skating equivalent eventually. And I have the same weight shift problem with the snowskate. Although, with a snowskate it's more the problem of having my weight too far back, and with skateboard it's more having my weight too far on my heel edge.

I didn't see anyone I had met before at the park, and I wasn't really feeling too extraverted. I still cheered when people landed cool tricks, despite barely anyone else doing it. I still laughed audibly when people did or said funny things. Like, I participated. But everyone was with their cliques. Except for one guy who was around my age, but light-years better than me skill-wise. And I tried to cheer him on, and we briefly made eye contact a few times, and we skated nearby obstacles for like an hour... but it never turned into a conversation. That's just how it goes sometimes, I guess we were both shy.

By around 7, nearly everyone had left. And some kids came over. And I mean... kids. They were sharing a scooter and just toodling around, and they were asking me questions... and I engaged with them and spoke to them like people, and answered their questions and all that. Then a few more kids came over. Then they started just like... playing tag on the obstacles and just standing around talking on the only obstacle I was skating... the A-frame box I was practicing noseslides on. (I actually started getting much more of my weight on top of them today.) I was super polite and just asked them if they minded moving, because I was skating that and I didn't want them to get hurt. And I think they took it as like... I was yelling at them to leave, and they all scattered. Right... Welp, not my fault, I was way nicer than like... 90% of the people around.

It's surprising how few kids there actually know park etiquette, like... don't sit on obstacles... period... don't just stand around in the middle of the park... keep an eye on the flow of traffic... take note of who is skating which obstacle in your path and time your runs so you don't get in their way... just be aware of where people are in general. Not one of these kids was wearing a helmet or anything and they were just outright oblivious of the multitude of skaters around them. It's a small miracle they didn't get hurt, and not to the fault of the skaters either. Because they'd just drop into a ramp without looking first. They'd just barrel along on a scooter without seeing if the coast was clear first. Just reckless shit. And you know how that ends... some little girl on a scooter breaks her arm because she was being reckless... then the parents sue the fucking town... and then before you know it, everyone has to wear helmets or they just shut the whole park down.

I love how skaters are targeted, as though we are the ones that are going around threatening litigation or something. It's so fucking weird. The number one bullshit made up excuse people use for kicking you out of a spot is "if you get hurt you're going to sue us", it's such a long-standing trope that Andy Schrock put out a shirt that says "I'm not going to sue you, dude." Good lord, it's just... it's never happened in history. The people who will sue? It's the people I ran into today.

One of the kids who was playing in the skatepark was walking back on the sidewalk as I was leaving. I had to pass him and who I assume was his father... and some other guy, they were all walking towards me, facing me. And these people were completely oblivious that a man on a skateboard was coming directly at them, and made zero effort to like... make a little room on the sidewalk. This was to the point where I was legit hitting the brakes on my board because I was afraid I was going to have to get off the board, pick it up and walk around them on the grass. And this was an asphalt path that's much wider than a normal sidewalk. Just... really kinda rude to be walking 3-wide and just... not indicate whatsoever that I'm going to have to change my trajectory.

There was what looked like a middle school baseball game going on or some shit. I guarantee these people were there for that. The third guy finally yielded and I barely had space to squeeze by, I had to fucking weave between them, which was awkward as fuck. And this dude fucking yells super loud right behind me "DO A TRICK". And I had been skating for like 2.5 hours, I'm soaked in sweat, I have headphones in, I have a backpack on with my trick board in it, I'm on a hybrid board that weighs 14 fucking pounds. I get off my board and pick it up so I can go under or around the gate that's blocking the walkway, and I don't even turn around, I just say "I don't do tricks on this board, it's too heavy." And this dude, completely oblivious and now... glaringly obvious to me that he's fuckin drunk as hell... screams "DO A KICKFLIP." (Thanks, The Berrics...) And I just fucking ride away, no look back, nothing. I just put my music back on, get on my board and ride away. And I hear him like... getting upset and talking shit behind me.

Way to ruin my session, man. And for the next two or three blocks, all I could think was... 1). Do NOT yell things at people who are riding skateboards unless it's a goddamn emergency, that is so fucking ridiculously unsafe. 2). This guy, who gets belligerently drunk and starts screaming and shit-talking strangers... in a public park... at a kid's baseball game... in broad daylight... in front of children and families... is considered more of a "contributing member of society" than I am. Because he is likely employed.

And that stormcloud has been hovering over my head since then. The inspiring confidence of landing new tricks? The relief of finally feeling... at home on four-wheels again, feeling natural on a board. It just got completely washed out by that idea that like... I am looked at as a parasite and a leech on society... when I bust my ass for nothing, I get zero appreciation, I get zero compensation, I get zero recognition. I constantly have people claiming they have my best interests in mind gleefully cheering me on every time I get a panic impulse to get any fucking random job off the internet just to get some income coming in and create distance from my parents. And yet when I talk about actually building the career and life that I've been building steadily for several years... my life... they sorta roll their eyes and treat it like a fucking hobby. Like I'm a kid telling them I'm going to be an astronaut someday, and their bitter dream-shattered asses just roll their eyes and go... "yeah... astronaut... welp, don't forget to come up with a plan B..."

It's one thing to give up on your own dreams and settle for something less. It's another to kill someone else's.

And I got all of this... because despite my talents, despite my skills, despite my intelligence and wisdom... I am less of a contributing member to society than some drunk asshole who screams "do a kickflip" at a 36 year old man who was clearly just trying to go home after a long session.

Well, society. You choose. You choose what kind of a culture you are nourishing. And if you just want mindless laborers that have very little awareness that other human beings are even sentient, let alone have their own thoughts, feelings and experiences... keep the bar around there.

I'm a bit upset, if you couldn't tell... XD I just felt like... I felt like I was in high school again or some shit. Like... you really think yelling at a skateboarder to do a trick for you... like they owe that to you or something? If you want to watch tricks, go 25 yards forward and fucking watch them at the skatepark. I'm not some fucking monkey that's here to dance for you. It's really demeaning, and it just really felt like... like I was kinda being mocked. Like... no "hey, how's it going? Can you do any tricks on that thing?" Just "DANCE FOR ME NOW." It just screamed Idiocracy, and it legit scared me. It shook me.

It made me again feel very alien. Very different from all these other people around me. And again, I fear that I'm just... a different breed. That I'm a rare breed - I know that could sound a bit arrogant, but like... I was literally told that, and it's been really hard for me to accept. And I'm afraid I'm just not going to find people like me, because there aren't a lot of us and we're really spread out.

In the hours since I've been home... incredibly tired and a bit sore... I've just been going in and out of moments where I keep thinking... how am I going to make this work? Am I going about this right? Think of it this way... and this is an interesting thought and something not a single fucking therapist or job counselor has talked to me about.

These people think if you just go get some random job, it literally doesn't matter what it is - working at an antique store, working at a vegetarian restaurant, working as a teacher at a community college - that this act alone will benefit the furthering of my art career. This logic chain has not been explained to me whatsoever short of "you might meet someone". Which... feels like a literal dice roll. Like... praying that you're the actress that gets discovered by Nicolas Cage at a fucking coffee shop or something. You really think I'm putting my fate in the hands of random chance to that degree?

So... what I would need to do... if I were to get some job to supplement and move my career forward... I would need to be very intentional about what I choose. Say I want to meet people who could be potential clients, I would need to be around clientele that can afford my pieces. You think I'm going to find someone who is willing to buy a $2000 bird drawing in a fucking community college class? Honestly? Honestly? I don't want to be goddamn rude, but like... BRO. So... if they don't consider the factor of like... who I would be around when I get that job... then they're not really thinking about that at all. Which is literally the only way that my art is connected to that job. PLUS, I would be subtly trying to "hock my shit" while working at a different establishment. You really think that's going to go over well with my boss?

I like the idea of being an artist's assistant. I like the idea of working in a tattoo shop, maybe... depends on the crowd that works there, you know? I don't mind doing jobs that actually put me in a community that might actually be able to afford my shit. Because... people who can afford tattoos have access to money. That shit ain't cheap (unless it's cheap). They also have a passion for art. Being tied into a hippie/new-age community would be ideal... but that gets messy... because die-hard hippies do not have cash... and the midlife crisis housewives may not really show my work the respect it deserves.

I guess my point is... I need to be intentional with my moves, or else I just committed to giving the lion's share of my life and labor away in exchange exclusively for money... with zero plan of how to move forward with my art. That's a big net loss.

I'm talking about my art a lot. Because I'm kinda teetering on an existential crisis with it again. I swear, every time I look at Instagram and see my art... I just go "dude, wow, I forgot how good that is. Fuck you, Depression, that came out really good." And then like a day or two later... "I can't draw shit, I'm not good enough, what's the point." I swear, so many artists deal with this. It really sucks.

I've been chomping at the bit to talk about my art and where it's going for like 3 consecutive journals now... at least. I've literally been stopping myself from talking about work. I just... I wish I was exaggerating... I think I'm the only person in the world who thinks I can make this work. I can make pretty cool jewelry, I'd really like to carve stone and wood pendants, amulets, talismans, that kinda shit, like centerpieces for a necklace. I can work with ink, pencil, colored pencil, paint, you name it. I really like this clothing tattoo idea, I really feel like it could go somewhere. And I also do fine art stuff too, and am willing to stream the entire process. And I can give individual lessons from complete beginner level to some pretty advanced techniques, not just with several mediums of art... but with several instruments for music lessons, too. And I'd like to get back into carving walking sticks, I enjoyed that a lot. And again, I would really like to get into doing tarot readings. I can do a lot of shit. It's really hard to believe with all of that on the menu... that none of it is of value.

I don't think anyone else I've met in a support role actually believes that someone can earn a living making their own creative pieces. Maybe they don't know anyone who has done it? Maybe they don't care about that career that much? Maybe they're just pessimists? I don't fucking know, man. But I'll tell ya... nothing says "I support you" like... "my daughter is a photographer, you know... and she does wedding photography now, and she learned to find ways to be creative with it." Okay. People find ways to enjoy maximum security prisons. That's not fucking freedom. That's being forced to live a different life than you have trained for... because motherfuckers won't support your real skill and talent, they will only support it when it benefits them. Because everyone is so fucking self obsessed that they won't support an artist simply because that artist makes great art... they will only support that artist... if they can find a way to exploit that artist's talents for their own personal gain. Like sweet-talking them into designing a logo for you. Or showering them with compliments until they design a tattoo for you... and then you don't pay them because... "oh, we're friends man, really? You're gonna do me like that?"

What the dude at the park kinda rattled loose... along with the role of Judas in Jesus's story in a spirituality lecture I was listening to while making dinner... Was this idea that... I'm really never going to be able to be free. What these "supporters" don't believe in... is that I will be able to earn enough to support my own survival while exercising my own creative freedom. I will be forced to sacrifice my vision, to create the vision of others, to do labor for others, whatever it might be. I don't think they can actually envision me going through the entire process from inspirational spark... to gathering supplies... to working... to completion... to display... to compensation... without someone else's ideas coming in and making it work. Spoiler alert - the only thing missing is compensation. And literally any one of these people could have helped with that. But they just happened to be therapists, with ethical boundaries. And that somehow also prevented them from showing half an ounce of interest in what it is I actually do, what I actually make. The more I think back, the less I'm certain that any of them had actually seen a single piece that I had made, let alone asked me what's going on behind the scenes with it... which is really the meat-and-potatoes of my work.

The Path is not some flashy Michael Bay clickbait video, it's an intellectual piece comparing a visual representation of the act of getting lost in the woods and reorienting yourself with... the process of learning and developing new skills or knowledge. It was like a visual metaphor for synaptic activity. The owl in my profile pic here isn't just a random bird I picked, it was a specific species that I had several unforgettable personal experiences with. It was the animal I saw in my mind's eye the first time I experimented with a deep meditative divination practice. I literally communicated with one and called it and its family across the pond to me at my old house using owl calls I learned as a kid.

And this act of making each piece be very deliberately important and resonant... it's been a growing trend for me, it's a staple in most of my work. Yet I guarantee none of those "supporters" who claimed to be helping me with the trajectory of my life... even fucking asked me what I did or what it was about.

How many successful people, people who have achieved their creative goals, do you think listened to people who gave them advice... who had never seen their work before?

So yeah, I'm trying to keep the motivational speaker in my head going... the "follow your dreams", "connect with the right people", "don't ever give up" mentality. But man, every fucking time... someone comes along and just... makes me feel like a spoiled, entitled, starry-eyed child. When I don't know how to do fucking anything else, man. I just want to make shit. And get better at making shit.

Yeah, I'm cutting myself off here, because I've gone pretty deep into depresso-zone. No one is saying this stuff to me right now, I'm just dealing with a trauma response. Someone yelling at me directly behind me in public and trying to like... bring attention to me and put me on display... when I just wanted to quickly and quietly skate past without disturbing their game... It set off feelings of being unsafe. My first reaction was "don't yell at people on skateboards or try to get their attention, it's super unsafe." Clear as day, yeah? And then my second reaction was... how I am a drain on society and that jerk passes the citizen test. It's a linear connection. Shock to system -> Feel unsafe -> Feel like a failure and a drain on "society" -> Neurotically reassess career path. Something tells me... "society"... ain't "society"... Something tells me it's my family. And something tells me... this is PTSD being all sneaky-like and trying to sweet talk me into thinking I'm being productive and proactive with my career. But really... I'm kinda just venting emotions, I guess.

This isn't to discount anything I've said in this so far. I do feel that way. I do feel strange and rare compared to the average person. I do feel like I have not been treated fairly by those claiming to support me, and I really really do feel like I deserve better. And I really feel like I have the talent, passion, drive, flexibility and will to learn that is required to be a career artist. But really?

The problem I had with the children... was the same problem I had with the drunk guy. I was just trying to be nice, and polite, and skate, and trying hard to not disturb anyone and not intrude on their experience. And just like the children, this guy decided to put a spotlight on me... and misrepresent me... and make me into an asshole in his eyes. And that just... makes me sad and a bit hurt. I really try every day to be courteous and kind, encouraging and thoughtful. And it's almost never appreciated or even recognized. But to like... twist it against me. That set off some alarm bells and made me feel unsafe.

Welp, this was unexpected. I'm glad I processed it though, I do feel a lot more calm now. I worked on an animation tonight. I had started this thing in Blender, the concept of like... a small circle that grows and divides and then the clones grow and divide... the whole mitosis thing. It keeps playing in my head over and over, I haven't been able to get it out. So... I sat down and started working on it today. But I decided to start from scratch in Krita instead of doing grease pencil in Blender. Yeah, with Blender I can interpolate and copy objects and shit, but like... I don't have a smooth workflow with that. The only reason I would do that would be to save time, and in the end... my inexperience ends up costing me time, so... I decided to go with hand-drawn animation.

I have this picture in my head that is sorta inspired by the Fractal bubble piece, where it's a seed that starts cloning itself... and then they split and split and fill the screen, then the screen zooms out as they keep growing, and the zoom goes out so far that you can't see the bubbles anymore, they become a cellular membrane... and then the membrane grows... and forms different types of cells --- that was one from yesterday that I'm really interested in... learning different types of plant cells so that I have more of a vocabulary of shapes to use in this type of abstract work. --- So the design is kinda showing... first individual growth at a super simple level on a microscale, then growth of the membrane itself, then different forms that the membrane takes... serving as a cell wall composed of thousands of micro cells. And then it can keep zooming further, to show those cells creating an organism of some kind. I'm thinking plant-like.

So... I mean... who am I to fight my muse tonight? I did that for like 2 or 3 hours. It went well. I'm just doing marker frames first, then tweening after I get a good idea of where it's going.

I have also been very inspired to do a series of self portraits of what my anxiety, my trauma and my depression look like. To give those personas a face. I really wanted to do that tonight. I'm just... I'm not there yet. I can't... see them yet. I can hear them sometimes, but I can't really see them, like mind's-eye see them. That's usually when I know it's time to start concept sketching.

That's how all my art usually comes to me, either in dreams or in a sudden flash. Like... I would be driving or showering or walking or laying down to go to sleep or whatever and a super vivid image would just zap into my mind's eye. And it just... it has a different feeling than like... memories or trauma flashbacks or "oh, I should remember to take the trash out later" kinda "notifications". It has an intense gravitation to it, it's compelling and dream-like. It's usually a very emotional experience, and within moments I'm frantically scrambling for a pencil to write it down.

Today, that was the cell division animation. It just kept playing in my head in different iterations and I just decided... "yeah, I'll give it a go"... and I put on some "easter eggs in the Dark Knight Trilogy" video and off I went. And the drawing was effortless and the time melted away without me noticing at all.

Anyway, yeah. That was pretty much my day. Now I really want to go shower to get this gross sweat crust off of me... and get to bed at a somewhat decent hour. I am absolutely utterly exhausted.

Before I go, I just want to take a moment to deliberately celebrate my skating accomplishments today. I feel like I kinda breezed over them. 1). I feel so much more comfortable on my board now. I feel very natural riding, and comfortable riding faster now too. 2). I felt way more comfortable hopping into FS 50-50s today. I felt like I was just... hopping onto a box, rather than the usual "oh, I'm grinding on the coping, I could slip out". And just the act of being more comfortable and being on top of the grind made it much easier to lock in. 3). I landed manual to shove it, which I was never even planning to do. I did shove its when there were people at the park, which was pretty big for me. And I did several normal shove its and landed them somewhat comfortably. I'm still iffy about the landings, I get really unsteady and weird... like I don't trust my own board rotations... But just like ollieing onto the box, with enough repetition it will eventually just become a thing that I do.

All I need to do is get the boneless 360 back and I will have completely eclipsed my peak skating ability back in college.

Alright, shower time.

[feysandfeels]

thank u! The situation is this, roughly. I'm in my mid 20s and I live in city A, where I'm very comfortable. I have all my friends here, old firndships of 10+ years and new ones. Since I'm not close to my family, they're extremely important to me. In the past two years I've maybe spent 15 days without meeting anyone, being able to socialise and lean on my friends is super important to me. I love my city, I'm comfortable here and I know I wanna spend my life here. However, I cant get my masters degree here, I'd have to do an expensive online degree and I've really been considering moving somewhere else for my masters for a while now, to use that opportunity and get to know a new place before returning here for good. I dont really wanna do an online degree, spending 6 hours a day in my room with no way to socialise and meet new friends. Ive been dating someone since november 22, we just broke up a couple days ago. I think ive sent u asks about him before lol. He lives in city B, 600 km away from me and ultimately the distance was the break up reason, although admittedly there have been other struggles as well. He said if I were to move there, he'd love to date me again for real this time. City B is far away, but it would actually offer me a good (and free) degree, its a vibrant metropolis and I could honestly do worse. The thing is, I'm scared of moving there only to end up depressed and homesick and on top of that back in a rocky relationship. I love and miss him a lot but there is no guarantee this would work out, even without the distance.

Got any advice? Both options have their pros and cons I guess

Hello My Love,

I'm sorry for the late reply but it was my grandma's birthday and a woman is nothing if not extra and we literally had celebrations for her the whole week. But she deserves it. Fabulous lady, truly.

Anywho, I have been thinking about this a lot and I - do you have a cunty friend? Can I be your cunty friend? Like I will give you hugs and bake you cookies, but can I be the cunty friend?

Because here is what I think: do not include that man or your relationship with him in your decision making process. Even though, I think distance is a valid reason when talking about North America -and America in general as traveling within the continent is not as cheap or easy as it is in other places... I am looking at you "long distance relationships within England"- the fact that you were also having other issues makes me believe that maybe maybe this is not where you should be putting your energy. If you give him a deciding factor weight type of thing then there might be chance you end up in a program that is good but not "the one", in a relationship that shows you that the problems that were not distance related are still there and well with a cup half empty. Personally, and feel free to disagree and be more of a romantic here... but personally I feel that if you guys have only been together a couple of months he should not hold such privilege weight in your life as to be a deciding factor to where you do your MA, that is something that comes with time and dedication.

Even if you do think it is worth a shot please please have a good think about whether it comes from a sense of comfort and of "hey at least I would have someone there" or the comfort of having previously been together. If this dude was not in an emotional position to put the effort to be in a long distance relationship with you then I think you deserve someone who will put that effort and even encourage you to fully look at all the available brilliant MA options you have. There's nothing wrong with him not wanting to do that and peace be with him and all that, but you deserve someone who will be there even when an ocean stands between you two.

Choose your MA because it feels your heart with joy to study whatever it is on, because you love the classes, because the campus seems nice and they have cool clubs and a nice community, because there are cute cafes and the nice restaurants, because the bookstores are amazing, because the scenery is inspiring, because you want to learn... and then jump.

Now for the MA experience and the fear of leaving home. I will not lie to you babygirl, it is daunting and settling in will take a while. This being said it will be an adventure! A great one at that. I feel these experiences allow you to truly get to know you for who you are when your familiar context is stripped away, you learn to spend time with you, to date you, to enjoy your own company; simultaneously it forces you to grow past the beautiful fence that limits your comfort space, to face the horizon and see all that land with boundless opportunity for you to build something from it and cherish it.

I know there's a fear of what if I don't meet new friends? what if my teachers suck? what if there is no cute cafes? what if I feel alone? But during those years you learn to communicate with your loneliness and find company within it; you learn that a smile is universal and most likely people will also be looking to make friendly connections; you learn things that you like about yourself that can help you grow into a new version; your teachers will most likely be lovely; you learn to love and be with people at a distance (you have an online community that literally travels with you, and your friends from home will adapt to you being away and you will not feel alone). Don't let fear of the unknown stop you, because even within the borders of your hometown the unknown will find you.

There's something my MA teacher used to say to me that I have loved ever since: be brave and head into the unknown, you never know which constellations you will find in a new sky.

Hope it helped..

sending you lots of love and light.

Ps: if you end up choosing the MA in the city he is in, make sure you are choosing it because of the program and the city... make sure you would choose it even if that dude did not live there.

Ahora sí, besos mi reina (gn)

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

LISTEN. I CLOSED OUT OF THIS FRICKING BANE OF MY EXISTENCE DOCUMENT WITHOUT SAVING JUST AS I FINISHED JUST NOW AND GOOD LORD. HEART ATTACK OF MY LIFE. ESPECIALLY WHEN I COULDN'T FIND ANY AUTOSAVED VERSIONS WITHOUT DIGGING. BUT I DID FIND IT SO IT'S FINE WE'RE GOOD

[imthebadguyyy]

A/N - based off of this sinful photograph

Suggested listening - Wildside by Normani and Kiss It Better by Rihanna

Wildside

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (fem!littlemix!reader)

Fandom - F1

Summary - You've been on tour for a while, and you miss your loverboy. But when he surprises you on tour, its bound to get spicy.

Warnings - smut (not well written)

The snap of hips. The soft groans and moans. The sound of pants. The sound of Rihanna's 'Kiss It Better' blaring through the walls. The bed knocking against the wall as Lewis's hands squeezed your hips, the intensity of the thrust pushing the bed against the wall. The high pitched moan that left your mouth as you reached your high, eyes closing as stars exploded behind your eyelids, as your boyfriend came right after you, your walls clenching as he came. Even after reaching your high, you didn't want to open your eyes, far too consumed in the earth shattering pleasure that was coursing through your veins, until a soft hand reached to pull your chin up, soft brown eyes looking into your own, clouded with lust and euphoria.

Pulling your mouth into his in a heated kiss, Lewis moved his hand to rest on your bare stomach, squeezing your tummy softly as he deepened the kiss. Pulling away he let his head droop onto your bare chest. "That was.." he began, far too blissed out to think of an adjective. "Godly" you said, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to come to terms with the intensity of your orgasm. Laughing he leaned back up to kiss your nose, before standing up and walking to the bathroom. You heard the tap running, and the sound of the dustbin opening and closing. You closed your eyes again, the aftershocks still coursing through your body.

Opening them again slowly, you saw Lewis walk towards you, towel in hand, and a lazy smile on his face. He gently cleaned your thighs, finishing with kisses on both of them. He reached up and wiped your torso, which was gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, before running the towel over your nose, cheeks, eyes and mouth. He dropped the towel in the clothes hamper near the bathroom door, pulling on his boxer shorts and and pulling out one of his t shirts from the cupboard. "What about the clothes on the floor" you piped up, finally beginning to wake up from your post pleasure state. "When did it get so messy?" He said, spotting 5 different clothing items in 5 different corners of the room. "When you decided to run your hand up my dress in a restraunt" you replied, throwing him a fake glare.

"You liked it" was his cocky reply, smirk spreading over his face as you flushed and ran a hand through your hair. "I did not" you lied, watching as he raised his eyebrows. "Oh really ? Thats not what you were saying 5 minutes ago- oh wait, you weren't saying anything at all. You were too busy moaning my name to say anything else-" "OKAY fine I loved it. Now shut up and bring your fine ass back for cuddles"

*-*-*

That was a month ago. Now you've been away for nearly one and half months, away with the girls on the LM5 tour. You loved touring, it was the best part of being a singer, getting to see the music you girls made together come to life on a stage in front of thousands and thousands of screaming fans. It was a thrill like no other. The only problem was that you were away from home. Distance was never an issue for the two of you, after all, he was a Formula 1 driver. It was very rare that he was home, except during the breaks and the gaps till race weekend, but ever since you two had started dating, he tried to be with you whenever you could. Sometimes, your shows would be in places where the races were too, and then he'd definitely turn up. But it was a difficult thing to do all the time, and some nights on tour were spent pulling all nighters as you talked to each other on the phone, till one of you eventually fell asleep.

But you knew when you started dating him, this wouldn't exactly be a regular relationship. The two of you were doing your dream jobs, and they were both extraordinary. And you were willing to put in the work you had to put in to make the relationship work, and you did. Yet here you were in Madrid, feeling heartbroken and desperately wanting your boyfriend by your side. It had been a rough couple of weeks, you were jet lagged and tired, and although this was the second leg of the tour, and you had had a break, it was tiring. It was hard going to bed every night alone, when all you wanted was to cuddle your boyfriend.

Little did you know, Lewis was feeling the same. In fact he had missed you so much, he had told Angela and his publicist to cancel all events for a week, while he flew out to Madrid to see you. He had missed you, he had missed you more than he could put into words. But he also wanted to surprise you. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled down to Leigh Anne's contact, and sent her a text.

Lewis, Leigh Anne

Hey. Is Y/N asleep ?

Hey! No, she's in an outfit fitting.

Okay that's good. I need your help with something.

Sure how can I help ?

I want to surprise her by coming to see you guys in Madrid.

Oh thats wonderful ! She's been a little down in the dumps. I think she misses you.

I miss her too.

Let me know when, and I'll send a car to pick you up.

I'll be there on Saturday. Landing at 3:15 and I should be at the hotel by 4:30. Then I can get ready and surprise her at the show.

Okay done. I'll send the car around 5:30,so you can rest for a bit. You should be here by 6. The show's at 6:15.

Thank you! Can't wait : )

I'm so happy youre coming to see her ! I'll let the girls know.

*-*-*

As soon as he had finished texting, Lewis decided to start packing, the prospect of seeing you again sending a buzz of happiness running along his veins. God, he had missed you a lot. He turned to Roscoe, the dog sitting by his feet, looking up at his dad with his head cocked to one side. "I'm going to go see Mumma, Roscoe" he explained, smiling as the doggo barked in response. He wouldn't be able to take him to Madrid, he'd have to leave him with a dog sitter, but he couldn't feel too bad about it, since he had had Roscoe with him even when you were gone. And besides, Roscoe enjoyed the dog creche. He couldn't wait for Saturday.

Later in the evening, he sat down with a glass of wine, while the ringtone of your FaceTime rang through the empty house. After a few more seconds of ringing, the call was picked up, your tired face coming into view. "Hi darling" he said, noticing the tiredness in your eyes, and how much you were struggling to keep them open. "Hi bubs. Did you finish eating?" You asked, rubbing your eyes. "No, I've ordered soup" (did anyone get the reference ;) "Oh okay" was the reply. "What about you? What time is it?" "Its 9:20 AM" you replied, gently rubbing your eyes again, forcing yourself to stay awake.

"9:20? Thats pretty late baby. Why are you still sleepy?" "We were recording till 4 AM, so Im functioning on like 5 hours sleep right now" "Oh damn. Go back to sleep then baby" "Can't, rehearsal" was you reply, making him furrow his eyebrows. "Okay I guess. But don't tire yourself out" "I won't" "I love you" he said, smiling at you. "I love you"

*-*-*-*

The Madrid show was always a fun one. The fans were loud and you loved it. They were one of the best crowds you girls ever played for, and the show had its own adrenaline and excitement. But it was difficult to give a 100% when you were tired, but you really tried, you did. During Power, you hit highnotes you didnt think you could, during Woman Like Me you danced like there was no tomorrow. During Wasabi, you brought your sass level up to a 1000. It was during Bounce Back that you caught sight of a very familiar face in the audience. Unable to actually grasp if you had actually seen Lewis, you turned to Jade, who was on your side, and looked back at the crowd and back to her, asking for confirmation.

The smirk she gave you was answer enough. After that, focusing on giving an excellent performance increased tenfold. Every swirl of your hips, every flip of your hair, every wink you threw at the audience, it was all five times sexier. In the crowd, your boyfriend was well aware of what you were doing, and it was fair to say that you were succeeding at it. He could feel an uncomfortable sensation around his pants region, as his cock twitched uncomfortably in his pants. He couldn't wait till the show was over, and you two could have a show of your own.

*-*-*

"That was amazing darling!" Lewis said, spotting the 5 of you in your dressing room. "Oh look its Mr. Loverboy!" Perrie said, cackling as you rolled your eyes at her, before running up to your lover and jumping into his arms. "Hiya Bub! I missed you!" "I missed you too love. That's why I surprised you. I couldn't stand another day without you at home" he said, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you stable as you jumped into his arms. A chorus of "awws" echoed throughout the room, as the girls watched your cute little interaction. What wasn't cute however was the comment Lewis made in your ear, hiding his face in your ear so that the girls couldn't see. "I can't wait to get back to the hotel. I saw the performance you were putting on for me baby. You have no idea how hard I got, how uncomfortable I was standing in front of so many people when all I really wanted to do was fuck you"

You could feel your mouth become dry, and your heartbeat quicken, and you could feel the area between your thighs become wet. You tightened your grip around him, letting your crotch rub against his very softly. "I think it's time to go" you mumbled against his ear. "Okay girls, as lovely as it was to see you, I think it's time we go back to the hotel. I'm pretty worn out from travelling as well" "Yeah I'm pretty tired too" you replied, faking a large yawn. "Alright then, we'll see you guys tomorrow!" Leigh Anne said, leaning forward to give you a hug. After you finished hugging all the girls, the two of you made your way to the car, eagerly waiting to get back home.

The car ride home was tense. The tension was apparent in the air, reverberating through the air, choking you in a way you revelled in. The air was thick with tension, and it was suffocating you in the best way possible. It was almost too much to take. When the hotel came into sight, you practically leapt out of the car, and rushed to the door, an equally ruffled Lewis beside you. But he was not going to give in to you so easily. He enjoyed seeing you flustered. And he was not a person that gave someone what they wanted when they asked for it,no. He was going to have you desperate for it. Smirking to himself, he made his way to the reception, grabbing you by the waist as he went.

Throwing him a confused look you followed, slightly frustrated. "Hello sir, how can I help you?" the man at the reception asked, eyes going slightly wide as he recognized the two of you. "Hi! I just wanted to ask, till what time is your pool and spa open?" He asked, sliding his hand down to the back of your dress. "The pool closes at 10 pm sir, and the spa at 9 pm. We open the pool at 7 am and the spa at 11pm"he replied, struggling to maintain his professionalism as he spoke to one of the best drivers in Formula 1. "Alright thank you. And what time does breakfast start?" Lewis asked, hand pressing down on your ass, ever so discreetly. "Breakfast is from 6-10 am sir" "Thank you so much"

Next to him, you were fuming. Of course he was going to ask questions to which he already knew the answers to. A painful throb between your legs made you let out a small whimper, and the man at the reception looked at you with concern in his eyes. "Ma'am are you alright?" He asked, eyeing your stiff posture and tense state. "Yes, just tired, thank you" you replied, a little stiffly, but it was hard to concentrate when Lewis's promise of fucking you senseless kept replaying in your mind. "Alright then, good night" Lewis said, biting back a smirk at your flustered state. He knew getting you all riled up would lead to some seriously earth shattering sex, and he couldn't wait. But first, he definitely wanted to tease you, to push you over the edge, just a little more.

Your room was on the 16th floor, and as the two of you made your way into the elevator, he eyed you up and down, eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts. The minute the door shut, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips in a steamy kiss you'd be remembering the next day. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing hard, eliciting a moan from your lips. The moment your lips parted, he was pushing his tongue into yours, his other hand coming up to pull on your hair roughly, relishing in the gasp that left your lips. As suddenly as he started, he stopped, pulling back and standing almost nonchalantly against the wall.

Trying to wrap your head around what happened, you gripped the wall with your hand, feeling your legs grow weak to a point where you felt like you couldn't stand on your own. You could feel your wetness dripping, threatening to run down your thighs, as the throbbing became even more painfully exciting. You looked down at the floor, eyes closing as your frustration grew more and more by the second. Finally, with a little 'ding', the elevator stopped at the 16th floor. The moment the door opened you stepped out on wobbly legs, trying your best to walk properly. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. As you turned one long corridor, Lewis suddenly grabbed your waist, pushing you against the wall again, to reach down and suck on your neck. You let out a gasp, and tried to run your crotch against his, but the retaliated with a slap to your ass, smirking when a high pitched moan left your lips. Lifting you up against the wall, he mumbled against your ear "the key card" your clouded mind was unable to process the words, too consumed by slight relief you were getting. "Get the key card baby" he repeated. This time you noted it, reaching down to his pants pocket to pull out the key card. You couldn't resist running your hand over his cock, feeling how rock hard he was. The thought of him fucking you senseless returned, and you let out a groan.

Grabbing the card from your hand, he opened the door, propping you up against the door in your bedroom. His eyes were filled with a raw, animal desire, as he dropped the card on the floor and reached up to unzip your dress. He ripped the zipper down, your dress falling to the floor in a crumpled heap. He locked his eyes on your heaving chest, hand reaching up to grab your chin, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand slid up your torso, reaching behind to unhook the red lacy bra you were wearing, letting it drop to the floor as he took in the glorious sight in front of him. You waited, wanting him to just touch you, but he just stared, eyes looking into yours, clearly saying "beg for it"

You couldn't help the soft "please" that left your lips, too desperate for some sort of touch. "Please what?' Lewis said, tightening his grip on your waist. "Please" was all you could say again, nearly whimpering again at the rough look in his eyes. "Use your words baby. Now, please what?" "Please just touch me!" You finally gasped out, moaning loudly when he licked a stripe down your chest before taking your right tit into his mouth. His hand fondled the left one, running his thumb over your erect nipple, the rough pad of his thumb sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His mouth sucked on the skin of your tit, before moving down to bite down on your nipple. You gasped again, pain and pleasure coursing through your body as his tongue ran over your nipple over and over till it nearly felt raw. He switched his actions, moving his mouth to your left tit instead, letting his hand harshly fondle the other. He continued the same process of biting, licking and sucking, till he was satisfied with himself. "I fucking love this baby. Seeing you all wet and needy for me. So what do you want? My mouth? My fingers? My cock? Or does my baby want them all ?" He asked, watching as your pupils dilated and you let out a strangled moan.

You let your crotch rub against his thigh, gasping when the friction went straight to your core. "Look at you darling. I asked you what you what you wanted, and you picked my thighs? Well, I want to see you dripping. I want to see you cum on my fingers, my mouth, my thighs and especially on my cock. I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again till you can't even stand on your own fucking legs. I want your thighs to be shaking around my head. I want to see you moan and groan and scream my name so loud, by tomorrow everyone in this hotel will know my name, because you'll spend all night screaming it" you moaned again, his words going straight to your core."Please Lewis, God, just make me cum please!" The desperation of your cry was enough for him to carry you to the bed, dropping your body onto the soft mattress.

He pulled of shirt, unbuttoning every button so you could see him do it. He could see your eyes grow dark, as his compass tattoo came into sight. You had told him it was one of your favourites, and he had used it against you ever since you had told him that. Smirking at you, he climbed onto the bed, lying down between your legs. You pushed yourself up against the headboard, spreading your legs wide for him. His eyes grew dark, as your core came into his view, shimmering with your juices. A near animalistic growl left his mouth, the sound hitting your core. He moved so that he was situated right in front of your core. He let his eyes take in the sight of you in front of him, snapping back to reality when you let out a groan of frustration. Throwing you a devilishly reassuring smile, he inched neared and nearer, till his nose was nearly touching your clit. Then he just lay there. Not moving. You could feel your heartbeat hammering against your chest, chest heaving up and down, an alarming intense feeling growing in your tummy. Finally, when it became too much you let out a small scream of frustration "Oh for fucks sake Lewis please just fuck me!" Your outburst brought a smile to his face. "Oh I will. Just not yet" and with that, he ran a finger along your slit, before finally slipping it into you. You let out a moan, finally getting the friction you had been desperate for. His fingers circled your clit, thumb gently pressing down, before he removed it,only to slam it back down on your sensitive clit, earning a scream of pleasure from you.

He slipped a second finger into you, scissoring around your clit, as your desperate cries of "oh, oh baby! Fuck, fuck lewis-" were lost in the heat of the moment. He leaned his head down to your core, letting his tongue run along your slit too, before licking around it, collecting your wetness on his tongue, before letting it harshly circle your clit. You bucked up into his mouth, feeling his tongue wrap around your clit. He sucked the nub harshly, his fingers still moving in and out of you. "Oh God, Oh GOD, Lew-I- oh! Oh God!" Your broken moans were music to his ears as he sucked your clit into his mouth. You could feel a strange intensity growing in your stomach, feeling a lot stronger than your usual orgasm. The band in your tummy was threatening to snap, but you needed that something more to help it snap. That something more came when Lewis sucked your clit into his mouth, letting it rest in between his teeth, before flicking it with his tongue.

With a cry of "Oh fucking hell, Lew-" you camr gushing into his mouth, your juices coating his fingers and gushing onto his tongue, as he let you ride out your orgasm on his deadly skilled tongue. Well, he had got his wish. Your thighs were shaking around his head, as your body tried to come to terms with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your body. Looking down, you saw him with his painfully hard cock, grinding down on the sheet, as he let out a moan at the relief the bedsheets gave him. Raising an eyebrow, you patted your thigh, signaling him to come over to you. "You loved on me so well bubs. But I can see how hard you are. Do you want to use me to get off?" You asked, watching the effect you had on him. All he could do was nod, as you sat up on your knees. "Stand up" you ordered, getting up from the bed as well.

You walked over to the wall, letting your body rest against it. Somewhat confused, Lewis followed you, standing in the space between your legs. "I tried to get off using your thighs didn't I? I think you'll enjoy it as much as I did. So use me. Use my thigh. Get off" looking at you in pure shock, your boyfriend moved forward, groaning when you pushed your leg against his throbbing cock. He relished in the friction, slowly beginning to move against your leg, moaning when he began to rub against your leg. He began to hump your leg faster, as the pleasure began to build up in his body, before you reached your hand down to cup his length in your hands, moaning when you realized your fingers didn't quite meet. You ran your fingers along his length. You pumped him, letting your thumb circle his sensitive tip, eliciting a soft whine from him. You circled faster, moving down to your knees, and letting your tongue run up his shaft very softly. Above you, Lewis slammed his hands against the wall, groaning when you took him into your mouth.

But a part of him still wanted to cum inside when he was fucking you (in a condom, because wrap it before you tap it) so he pulled you back up, smirking when you whined. "I know baby, but I just really wanna fuck you now. Back on the bed please, unless you want me to take you here against this wall" practically running, you clambered onto the bed. You watched as Lewis pulled out a condom, ripping the packet open before climbing back on top of you. He let his hand rest on your hip, eyes temporarily losing some of the animalistic need that had been present in them. Leaning down, he connected your lips together in a kiss, a searing, intense kiss that took your breath away. "Ready love?" He asked, looking into your eyes, looking to see if there was even a slight hint that you didn't want this. But you did.

With a sudden jolt, he thrust himself into you, groaning when your warm walls clamped down on him. His hips thrust into you, starting off slow, letting you adjust to his massive length. "My sweet baby,taking me so well. Does it feel good?" You couldn't even respond, mouth agape, as his the pace of his thrusts increased. "Answer me" he said, suddenly stopping. Almost crying out at the loss of pleasure, you looked at him with desperation. "Yes yes, fuck it feels so good, please don't stop!" "Thats all you had to say baby" he said, before pushing in again, slowly. Then, he pulled back out. Looking at him in confusion, you gasped when he slammed back into you, a high pitched moan of "Lewis!" leaving your lips. He moved so that he had a better hold of your hips, rocking the both of you back and forth, the intensity of his thrusts was so much that the bed knocked back against the wall. What he wasn't expecting was for you to take his left thumb up to your mouth, running your tongue over it before sucking on it.

Moaning, he started thrusting into you even harder, shifting so that he was directly hitting your g spot. "Oh, God ! Oh fuck, Baby that feels so good please keep going keep-oh!" The cry that left your lips was so loud, you were sure Perrie in the room next to yours had heard you. "Fuck baby, you take me so well" Lewis said, as he nearly hammered your g spot. He was so, so damn close to cumming, and when you leant up and bit a sensitive spot on his neck, he came, gushing into the guard between you two, but he wanted you to cum to, so he reached down to pinch and rub your clit, still riding out his orgasm in you, moaning when you came with a scream. He winced when your core spasmed on his sensitive cock, and he pulled out slowly, before collapsing next to you. Panting, you curled up to him, letting your hand rest on his compass tattoo. "Okay that was Godlike" you said, earning a tired laugh from your lover.

"Yeah it really was. I missed you" he said, allowing you to nuzzle into his neck, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "I missed you too" you replied, kissing the tattoo. "I love you too" As you lay there together, still revelling in the moment, your phone buzzed. Reaching over to check it, you saw your groupchat with the girls flooding with messages.

-*-*-

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Y/N, I'm filing a noise complaint. 🍆

Jade ✨ - Pez 😂 let them be. It's been a while for her.

Leigh 🦋- She really got some tonight huh? 😏

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️- LOL she did !! And it was obviously some goooood 'some' *wink wink*

Jade ✨- I could hear em too, and Im on the other end of the hall.

Leigh 🦋 - I know I did too! Must be some damn good sex. 😏

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Go Y/N !!

Jade ✨ - Can't wait till she reads this.

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Are they still going?!

Leigh 🦋 - No 😂 she's reading the messages. Y/N!! Yoohoo!

You - yes I'm here 🖕🏽

Jade ✨ - Did you have fun babe 😏

You - ..... yes

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - babe you can't really say no because we heard you

You- Im not saying I didn't have fun. But you guys need to calm down.

Leigh 🦋 - But its funnn

You - okay byeeee ❤

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - Going for a round 2 😏?

You - okay I said bye.

Leigh 🦋 - she is !!

Jade ✨ - Go babe !

You - I need to leave this group.

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - No we love you !! ❤

Leigh 🦋 - Yeah don't leave us ❤

Jade ✨- Don't leave meee ! ❤

You - Haha I'd never leave you girls ❤ now bye.

Jade ✨ - bye babe !

Perrie 🧚🏻‍♀️ - bye you sexy minx 😏

Leigh - bye hun 💙

*-*-*

Smiling to yourself, you put your phone away, to see Lewis looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Who was it?" "Just the girls" you said, cuddling back up to him. "What did they say?" Giggling, you looked up to him and kissed his neck. "They said they're going to file a noise complaint. And they asked me if we were going for a round two" "Were we really that loud?" He asked, looking at you in surprise. "Yeah, even Leigh heard us and she's at the end of the hall!" "Damn" Lewis said laughing. "Well," he said, looking at you again, with a cheeky look in his eye, "they were right about one thing" "And what is that?" You asked, smiling at him mischievously. "We are going for a round two"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

@maxverstappenx @grandestrategia (because you are worth it 🦋💙)

[citrusdarling7]

jealously

summary- Tom Riddle becomes jealous of reader’s boyfriend and decides to take matters into his own hands

warnings- smut, cheating, degrading, edging, and a bit of light choking. dom! tom, sub! reader

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I’ve never been much of a morning person, but for some reason I was up early today. I knew that I had a potions essay due tomorrow, and I was behind on it. Still in my silky nightgown, I assumed no one else would be in the common room. To my surprise, Abraxas was sitting in front of the fireplace. I smiled and tip-toed over to him, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind him. He squeezed one of my hands gently, acknowledging my presence.

“Darling, why are you up? It’s barely 5 am,” he told me softly. I rolled my eyes and swiveled around the couch so I could sit down next to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Malfoy. Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Even in the dim lighting of the Slytherin common room, I could see the dark purple bruises around one of his eyes. I gently reached up to try and touch him, but he turned his face to the side.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you sleep well?” He tried to change the subject, but I didn’t let up.

“Brax, what the hell happened? Please tell me that the other guy looks worse,” I said while positioning myself closer to him. I gently ran a finger along his jawline in a comforting gesture. I could smell his sage wood cologne, which I absolutely adored.

“Truthfully darling, I think I’m lucky I walked away without him cursing me. He was absolutely livid after you left.”

Of course. I was such an idiot. Tom had done this to him.

Late last night, Abraxas and I were kissing in the corridor when we decided we wanted to go somewhere more private. Abraxas knows how to find the Room of Requirement, and he dragged me inside, still kissing my neck and holding onto my waist. Unfortunately for us, all of the other 6th year Slytherin boys were already there, brewing some type of illegal potion. Not only had Abraxas forgotten he was supposed to meet with them that night, but he had also exposed me to what was happening.

Although some people would believe so, I’m not naive to what goes on in this school. I know about Tom and his pursuits in dark magic. I know about their constant fights with those Gryffindors who all wear that one lion pin. But Tom seemed to believe that I had no prior knowledge of these secret meetings, and he instantly started yelling at us.

“Malfoy, you idiot! You are not supposed to bring back girls to this room, and certainly not when we’re in the middle of illicit activities!”

Rosier and Avery were still sitting by the cauldron, doing nothing to help the situation. I stepped away from Abraxas and turned towards Tom.

“Calm down, Riddle. You and your superiority complex need to learn that not everyone’s life revolves around yours,” I spat at him. Tom took a step closer to me, and I instinctively reached to pull out my wand. Before I had a chance to, I felt the back of my head being slammed against the wall, Tom’s hand gripping my throat tightly. Abraxas and Rosier both shouted for Tom to let go of me, but I just smiled. I stared him down, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way,” he growled.

“I can speak to you any way I want Tommy.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to strangle me, but I saw the trace of a smile play across his lips. He abruptly let go of me and turned towards Abraxas.

“You need to keep your girlfriend under control. Get out of here.” Abraxas quickly grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the door.

“Not you, Malfoy. Your presence is still required here.” I opened my mouth to tell him off again, but Abraxas quickly shook his head.

“Go back to the common room, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I reluctantly sighed, but figured that I shouldn’t piss Tom off even more. I should have known that Tom would still be angry with Abraxas.

Flashing back to present time, I turned around to look towards the boys dormitories. Abraxas could tell what I was thinking, so he gently squeezed my hand.

“Leave it alone, dearest. He was fine the rest of the night, confronting him will just make him mad again. I don’t want you to get hurt, my love.”

I’m not one to back down easily, and I constantly let my temper get the best of me. But Abraxas’ soft touch against my leg and heart-felt words relaxed me a bit.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Have you done Slughorn’s essay yet?”

We spent the next hour or so alone in the common room, trying to hastily finish up homework. By the time that others started waking up, I was sitting in his lap, my hands in his hair as we kissed passionately.

“You two are disgusting. 20 points from Slytherin,” a cold voice said. I rolled my eyes and gave Abraxas a quick peck on the lips before sliding off of him and back onto the couch. Tom was Head Boy, and he had no problem with taking points from his own house. He had a lot of nerve as well. Almost every single night I watched him drag some girl into his room. She always left limping a few hours later, and Tom never spoke to her again.

“Put some clothes on. You’re dressed like a whore,” he spat at me. I scoffed at him, but got up to head back to my room anyways. As I slipped on my school robes and brushed out my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. I managed to get through all of my classes without speaking a word to Tom. After watching the Slytherin quidditch team practice while gossiping with Lestrange, I sat with Rosier and Abraxas in the common room. Rosier made me play chess with him, beating me every single time. This was strange, since I considered myself an excellent chess player. I guess I was just a little distracted. Abraxas excused himself to his dorm room, saying that he had a ton of homework to do. He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Something on your mind?” Rosier asked me. I sighed and slumped down in my chair.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still kind of upset about what happened with Tom. Why do you guys let him treat you all so awfully?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Being friends with Riddle has advantages and disadvantages. The occasional hex or punch to the face isn’t much of a price to pay.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” I said with a grin. Rosier chuckled and patted my arm.

“Good luck with that.”

A few hours later I was lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying desperately to fall asleep. But something was still on the back of my mind, and that something was preventing me from being able to relax. I let out a sigh and rolled out of bed. I slipped out of my room and quietly walked down the stairs, into the common room. I then made my way up the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the smell of smoke. Tom stood inches away from me, still in his school uniform. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet-name.

“You are absolutely insane, Riddle! You walk around this damn school like you own the place, and I’m sick of it.” He smiled and offered out his arm to me.

“If you’re going to yell at me, then you might as well do it behind closed doors,” he offered. I didn’t take his hand, but I did step inside and let him shut the door behind me. Since he was Head Boy, his room was bigger than all of ours. I could see that his window was open, probably because of the smoke. His bed had black silky sheets adorning it, and I could see all of the books on his desk were neatly stacked. His box of cigarettes was laying on his nightstand.

“So did you come here just to tell me off or did you want a smoke as well?” he taunted.

I turned around to face him again.

“I want you to stop hitting my boyfriend. And the rest of the boys. You have to learn how to respect others.” He chuckled darkly while taking a step towards me.

“Darling, that’s a pretty demanding request. My respect has to be earned.” In an attempt to look more confident, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“You’re such a child, Tom. I don’t know why you think that everyone worships you!” I shouted at him. He quickly wrapped his free hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

“That’s because everyone does. Everyone except you it seems.” I don’t know why Tom had this constant need to slam me up against the wall and choke me. It didn’t make me afraid of his dumbass.

Honestly, it was kind of hot. He brought his other hand up to my face and he touched my cheek softly.

“Did you and Malfoy ever finish what you started yesterday?” It took me a moment to realize that he was asking if we had fucked.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped at him. He tightened his grip on my throat and used one of his legs to pin down mine.

“Answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept with him. Why do you care?” Tom brought his head down to my neck and whispered into my ear.

“Because I’m not into sloppy seconds.” Before I had a chance to mention the fact that he probably had over twenty bodies, he started kissing me roughly. I kissed him back and wrapped my leg around one of his. I let him suck on my neck as he pushed my thin nightgown up my leg and slipped one of his hands under it. He started to slowly rub circles on my thigh. He continued to suck on my neck as I tried to grind against him. He growled and used his other hand to push my waist back against the wall.

“None of that. Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he asked in a mocking tone. I nodded and he slipped his fingers into my underwear.

“Someone’s a needy little slut,” he whispered. Part of me wanted to call him a man-whore, but the part of me that valued my life kept me quiet. I felt him push two fingers inside me and I whimpered. He started to rub my clit with his thumb as he thrusted his fingers in and out of me. He started kissing my neck again as I moaned quietly. He was going incredibly slow, making me desperate for every touch. At a particularly sharp pressure, one of my legs twitched and I had to bite my lip to stop from making noise. Tom chuckled and tilted my chin towards him.

“Didn’t you come here to yell at me? Are you going to yell at me now, darling?” He started to rub me faster, which made it difficult for me to even speak.

“I hate you,” I was able to mutter. He laughed and pinched my waist roughly, making me jump. After only a few minutes, I was starting to get close to my peak. I felt my legs start to shake as I bit my lip to stifle my moans. Tom noticed this, so he stopped touching me. I frowned as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“Did you really think I was going to let you come that quickly?”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my legs and spun me around, pushing me onto his bed. He quickly tugged my nightgown off of me and started to take off his shirt. I tried to reach up and help him, but he used his free hand to push me back onto the bed. He quickly unbuckled his belt and kicked his pants off before getting on top of me. I felt his member pressing against my thigh. He wrapped a hand around my throat again and used the other hand to gently rub one of my hips.

“Is this what you want? Me to fuck you senseless while your boyfriend sleeps two rooms over?” I felt him rub against my clit, teasing me purposefully. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him that me and Abraxas weren’t actually dating until later.

“Tom-”

“Shut up,” he growled before thrusting into me sharply. As he rocked into me, I definitely felt a bit of pain. He was bigger than what I was used to, but I was adjusting quickly. I tried to rest my arms on his shoulders, but he didn’t like that. He pinned my hands above my head and started to attack my neck with his mouth.

“If you do that again, I’ll tie you down. Don’t test me,” he muttered. He continued to rail into me over and over, hitting me at just the right angle. In less than ten minutes I was close again. I tightly clenched the sheets and tried to grind my hips against his to alleviate some of the tension. That’s when he slipped out of me with a grin.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said while stroking my hair.

“Are you fucking serious?” I complained.

“Completely. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you finish before the night is over.”

I will admit, his self-control was pretty impressive. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle pulling out before they had finished. But I also figured that he was just bluffing. There was no way he would be able to do this for more than twenty minutes. After 30 or so seconds of him attacking my mouth with his tongue, he thrusted into me again. This time his strokes were a bit slower and more gentle. He rubbed one of my arms lightly as he made me shiver at his touch.

“Tom, oh my God,” I moaned into his neck. I assumed he was going to tell me to shut up, but I guess he liked knowing how good he was making me feel.

“That’s right, darling. You like this?” I nodded my head as he pressed soft kisses against my jawline. I was definitely pleased with his change of pace. The slow stroked and gentle kisses made this feel a bit more like a normal thing. But of course, that didn’t last very long. Once he was done leaving hickies all over my neck, he wrapped his hand around it. He started to press himself deeper inside of me, rocking me into his bed. I whimpered as he hit a spot that made my legs twitch.

“Quiet, slut,” he demanded. I tilted my head slightly away from him, trying to stifle my moans with one of his pillows. I was panting at this point, desperately gripping onto the sheets.

“Could Malfoy make you feel this good?”

“Yeah, if I was with him I would’ve came by now,” I thought to myself. However, I shook my head in an attempt to appease him.

“That’s right. Should I let you finish now?” I nodded and he jerked my face back towards him. “Alright. Beg for it.” That actually made me laugh. There was no way I was going to give into him that easily. Tom shrugged and continued to pound into me. “Be difficult then. I don’t care either way.”

I bit down my lip to muffle a scream as my stomach flipped and my legs shook. Right when I was about to be sent over the edge, he pulled out of me again. By now, I was completely fed up with him. I tried to bring one of my hands down between my legs, but he was quicker than me. He grabbed both of my arms and roughly pinned them above my head.

“I don’t think so, dear. I want the whole hallway to hear you screaming my name,” he said while stroking my cheek tauntingly.

“Good luck with that,” I said with an eye roll.

“You’re mine now. No one gets to touch you but me,” he muttered into my ear before thrusting into me again. By now I could see finger-shaped bruises starting to form on my waist. We had been going at it for at least 35 minutes, and my body was aching for release. I was confident that he had left at least 5 or so hickies on my neck, which I was not looking forward to having to cover up tomorrow. Out of instinct, I tried to move my leg around his to adjust the angle. Tom slammed me down onto his bed roughly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. He pressed one of his thumbs against my clit, making me whimper. I was so frustrated that tears had started to stream down my face. Tom gently wiped them away with his free hand.

“Are you gonna apologize for yelling at me earlier?” he asked in a snarl. I shook my head, which made him chuckle.

“That’s what I thought. If you’re gonna be like that, you clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” He started to kiss roughly at my collar, obviously trying to mark me more. After a few minutes of listening to me whine and pant, he decided to give me another chance.

“Promise me you’ll stop hanging around Malfoy,” he said softly. That kind of threw me for a loop.

“What? Why?” He nibbled on my ear lobe and thrusted into me sharply.

“You’re my little slut now. I don’t want him touching you. Promise me.” I instinctively shook my head, which only made his thrusts even harder.

“Promise me, darling. Like I said, I can go all night.” I really, really wanted to keep my mouth shut. But I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take much more.

“Fine. I promise. Please Tom, I-”

He bit down on my lip and thrusted into me at the perfect angle and speed.

Over-and-over again.

I moaned his name as well as a stream of profanities as waves of pleasure tore through my body. My legs were shaking so bad that he had to actually hold them down. While I was riding out my high, Tom muttered praises into my ear. I was so extremely sensitive that every touch set off fireworks against my skin.

“Take me like a good girl,” he said before roughly grabbing my throat. It took him a few minutes to finish himself off, but when he did it was so hot. He didn’t even bother to pull out. He continued to kiss me for a bit before he got up and started to walk towards his bathroom.

“Now, get the hell out of my room, whore.”

I smiled at his lovely term of endearment as I tried to quickly pull my clothing back on. I stood up quickly, and my legs gave out beneath me. Tom laughed as he put on his bathrobe.

“You’re pathetic,” he said while helping me up. Surprisingly enough, he walked me back to my dorm, smiling the entire way. Before he turned to leave he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep well, darling.” I flashed him a sweet smile.

“You too, Riddle.”

[scarletwidowaf]

Yelena Belova x reader “fake dating” to actual!!!!

Plssssss :) 🥲💛

Moral Of The Story

Yelena Belova x female reader, scarlewidow mentioned.

A/N: might be messy, might be cheesy, but I truly don't care because I live for this chaotic due.

warning: stupidity maybe

words: 2000ish- probably more. 

masterlist

You don't know how but somehow training with Yelena always ended up with you being pinned down on the training mat.

"Fuck" you cursed frustrated as she pinned you down for the 3d time in a row. Yelena laughed before she stood up and held out her hand for you to take.

"I let you win!" You said as she pulled you up.

"Sure you did" she joked.

"Seriously. I let you stomp on my dignity because I have a favor to ask!" you said back, a goofy grin playing on your lips as you passed her one of the water bottles.

"Now, that's gonna be interesting" she said as she sat on the floor, her back facing the wall. She gratefully took the bottle from your hand as she waited for you to talk.

"be my girlfriend" you said. The two of you were always comically stupid, so of course that you said that at the same moment she was taking a gulp from her bottle and of course she choked- and of course you laughed.

"I'm Sorry" the blonde glared at you.

"You're not" she responded in between coughing.

After a few moments, she finally stopped coughing and your laugh dyed out as well.

"You're right. I wasn't." You laughed again and she shoved you playfully.

"So, did you seriously just asked me to be your girlfriend?" She asked. Her lips forming her famous-troubled-maker cheeky grin.

"Well.. my fake girlfriend to be exact" you corrected yourself and she laughed again.

"You know you could've started with that, right?"

"And what's the fun in that?"

You smirked at her, knowing full well she found the random question amusing.

"So Why me, anyway..? - Wait, Let me guess.. kate and carol said no and you're scared of Wanda?"

"Okay first I'm not scared of Wanda, I'm scared of your sister.. there's a difference. And Second; my parents in town.. and I kinda told them I have a girlfriend.."

"Oh, now that's classic" Yelena, obviously, found the situation hilarious and you couldn't blame her since you found this dumb conversation amusing as well.

"Does it mean you'll do it?" You asked.

"Yeah why not" she responded you raised an eyebrow at her waiting for the catch. With Yelena, there's always a catch or at least a stupid comment.

"Yeah. I want to meet the poor souls who had to deal with your stupidity on a daily basis for the last 20 years..."

And here it is. You thought.

"I will punch you" you threaten her.

"Kinky" she smirked.

"Whatever stupid. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8" you said as you got up from the spot next to her.

"Wear something nice"

_______________________________

The thing about Yelena is that you can never know what to expect. No matter how much time you spent with her, and it was a lot, she somehow still managed to surprise you.

This time was no different. but in her defense, this time the blame is definitely on you. You saw Yelena wear different kinds of outfits, from gear to fancy dresses, yet for some reason, you just didn't expect the other girl to wear a suit, and damn she looked good.

The gray suit fit her perfectly and her long blonde hair was down. She looked painfully beautiful and you couldn't help but stare- and she couldn't help but notice.

She wasn't doing better, on your defense. The blonde checked you out shamelessly before she sent you a smirk "How lucky I am" she joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Very lucky.. and so am i" Yelena smiled at you and held her hand out for you to take.

The ride was short and 15 minutes later you were standing outside the restaurant.

You could feel Yelena's gaze on you as you bit your lip nervously. "It will be alright" she assured you as she interviewed your hands together. "Thank you" you looked at her gratefully "Don't sweat it" she replayed with a soft smile.

That was the thing about Yelena, people always misguided her for someone she wasn't and it always made you mad. God, Of course, she was strong and fierce and brave and absolutely terrifying at times- but She was so much more than that. She was sweet and loyal and caring, and kinda funny (don't tell her) and absolutely beautiful- inside and out. One of your favorite things about her was her shy and sincere smile, which seemed reserved only for you.

"You ready?" She squeezed your hand. you took a small shaky breath before smiling back at her. "As ready as ill ever be"

The restaurant wasn't busy and it didn't take you long to catch your parents in a corner in the far back of the room. Both smiling wide as you walked towards them. Your mother's smile was contagious and you couldn't help but smile back. God, you missed them.

"We've missed you so much" your father said as he hugged you, your mother doing the same.

"I've missed you too" you confessed before tugging Yelena forwards them.

"I'm assuming that's the girlfriend," Your father said and you nodded. God, You were nervous and Yelena could sense it as she reached for your father's hand.

"Yelena." She introduced herself As they shook hands. Her grip firm and her smile dazzling. "I'm Y/D/N and this is my wife Y/M/N" he introduced himself as well.

"Glad to finally meet you. I heard a lot of great things about you" She said with a confident smile.

Both of you could tell the older man was impressed by the blonde and you couldn't help but smile.

"Were happy to finally meet you as well- although we can't say the same since pumpkin over here hasn't said much about you"

Yelena smirked at you as you blushed deeply. You knew she wouldn't let you forget about the nickname. Like, never. "Yeah, it's actually pretty new. It wasn't really planned neither" she explained.

Your mother, God bless her, wasn't the one to shook hands. The moment Yelena was free from your father's grip she found herself in the woman's warm embrace.

"Okay... I think we should start ordering" you said when Yelena was free again. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. The Russian Assassin wasn't used to be hugged and you couldn't help but smile.

The conversation was light, the wine was good and most importantly, your parents loved Yelena. which was understandable considering the fact she was annoyingly charming.

The Yelena that sat next to you with her hand on your lap was the best version the blonde could pull and you felt stupid for being worried in the first place. Yelena led the conversation with politeness, charm, and grace that you never knew she had in her- and your mom seemed impressed. Impressing your dad was even easier- Yelena didn't even have to try, all she had to do was show her intelligence and add some light humor.

After an hour of light and mostly general conversation, amazing food, many embarrassing stories of you on both sides, and 2 glasses of wine, your mom decided to take the conversation into her hands.

"So Yelena. Tell us about yourself."

Oh boy. Now that might be a problem.

"Well... I joined the avengers a few months ago" she explained "Not long after I met your daughter actually," she said simply.

"That's nice, and before that?" The older woman asked.

"I was a freelance.." Yelena gulped. Her hand squeezes yours

"As?" Your mom asked. You knew she didn't try to push Yelena into this corner, she wasn't this kind of person, but she definitely put the blonde on the spot.

"Well... I was involved with the black market and different criminal organizations. Jobs like getting undercover to dig information or well.. getting rid of powerful men in the criminal world.."

Your parent's eyes went wide. Your dad stared at her with wide eyes and your mom cleared her throat.

"I don't do it anymore" she continued. The blonde seemed as nervous as you felt.

"How did you ended up in this line of work? If I may ask?"

"Mom I don't think-" you started and Yelena smiled at you.

"No, It's fine babe.." she said before moving her attention back to your parents "Sometimes life gets you to places where you have to do bad things to survive."

Your dad's expression was unreadable and your mom seemed worried as she glanced at you.

"Yelena and I met when her sister recruited and pulled her out of this life. Yelena is a good person, despite everything she's been through. That's what I love the most about her." You said.

Yelena smiled softly and your parents exchanged looks.

"I'm a different person now" Yelena promised

"We believe you... but I can't help but worry for my daughter, as you can surely understand. What if the people you've been involved with. Try to get to you through Y\N"

Your father asked calmly. Both were taking it better than you expected and you couldn't blame them for being worried.

"Dad. I know it might come as shocking.. but I'm a big girl and I'm well aware of the risk of being involved with Yelena. I need you to trust me when I say that risks, some worse than the mafia, were a part of my life long before we met."

Yelena bit her lip to hold a smile and you interviewed your hands again.

"You're a doctor" your mom argued "I'm a field doctor. Of the avengers." you corrected her. "which means I'm more of capable of taking care of myself."

Your dad nodded softly to your mom before he smiled at you. "You're are.. Don't you?" He laughed. "Mu little pumpkin.." he sIgh and your mother smiled as well

"I just want you to understand that all we want for you is to be safe and happy. And even a blind man can see Yelena gives you that." He sent Yelena a soft smile. Yelena smiled back at him.

"Take care of my daughter.. she's a keeper" your father said firmly.

"She is. And trust me, I will" she promised.

_______________________________

"Well, that went well" you laughed when you got into the passenger seat. Yelena volunteered to drive which was a relief since you were exhausted.

After the two of you got into your seats the blonde sent you a small smile and took something out of her pocket.

"Is that? A bullet..?" You asked confused as you took the copper cylinder from her hand.

Yelena laughed softly.

"It is. It's the same bullet you stopped me from shooting at Natasha"  she confessed.

"I was in such a bad place back then and I blamed Natasha for it. If it weren't for you things would've been very different now" Yelena whispered

"Yeah, both of you were dead since you would've shot her, and Wanda would've probably hunted you down and kill you" you laughed and Yelena's shoulders relaxed.

"Probably" she said. "But with all seriousness... I was aiming a gun at my own sister and instead of pulling your own gun at me, you decided to shield her with your own body and dare me to shoot you as well. Who does that!?."

"You thought I was insane" you laughed.

"I thought you were stupid, putting your life at risk to save someone fucked up like us! someone like me.." She confessed and it downed on you.

No matter what happened or how many good things Yelena had done in her life, she couldn't let go of who she was trained to be. She still blamed herself for all the terrible things she did back at the red room and she constantly tried to get closure by doing the exact opposite- which was probably the reason she killed all these bad men in the first place. But then Natasha came back for her, and Yelena blamed her for leaving her behind to live with the things they did. She felt betrayed and broken, and Natasha's return only made it worse. Like she was just pitting her broken sister.

"All I know is that the Yelena I stood up to and the Natasha I saved that day were not the villains the red room tried to create." You whispered.

"You truly believed that? Even then?" Yelena was crying softly and you cupped her cheek.

"Especially then! I know you don't see it, but I'm here to remind you, you're a good person. Truly. You have a good heart- and I've seen it"

Yelena's cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red and puffy and her famous crooked smile was plastered on her lips.

"And that's why you love me?"

She was a mess just like back then- when she was aiming a gun at her own sister as who she thought she was and who she truly is were fighting for dominance.

She was tragically beautiful and scared both then and now, yet somehow at the same time, she was more sure and confident than ever before. And I guess that what life is all about. Sometimes, things start to make sense only when everything else doesn't.

"Wasn't it obvious, stupid?" You said and stroked her cheek carefully as she melted into your touch.

Yelena smiled before kissing your hand softly, without breaking eye contact with you.

"You're the stupid one and you know it. Taking an assassin as your dinner date." She joked and you nodded and looked briefly at her lips.

"Well, stupid or not, I still manage to get a kiss at the end of it." Yelena laughed and got closer to you.

"Yeah you did" she whispered and kissed you.

And that was the thing about Yelena. She was good and kind and loyal. And a damn good kisser.

[archetypal-archivist]

Tommyinnit and Hermitcraft- Heartstone

So this builds off of the whole "Tommy has somehow found himself on Hermitcraft after the exile arc" thing that got really popular with @redorich and @petrichormeraki on tumblr. Basically it's an excuse to give Tommy therapy and 20+ parent figures. One thing that's a common thread in those stories is that Tommy is shocked that Hermitcraft has infinite respawns and all of the hermits are quick to reassure him that he really won't perma-die in their world. And I had the thought- well, what if he wasn't in their world anymore? And thus came forth 1500+ words of angst~

It begins like this. Evil X is stuck in the void, alone and with no one to talk to. He misses daylight, he misses touch, he misses hearing voices other than his own. One day, he sees something get shot through the void as if by slingshot, leaving a trail of code in its wake, tethering the whatever it is back the way it came. This is Tommy, and while he begins to get adjusted to Hermitcraft and company, Evil X watches as the string of code begins to imprint itself into the void, and eventually learns that he can interact with it, albeit only on the most superficial of levels. On Tommy's end, he slowly begins to heal from his time spent in the war zone that is the Dream SMP, making fast friends with Grian and several of the other hermits in the process. He goes pranking with his newest, winged older brother figure, laughs at the antics of Impulse, Tango, and Zedaph, builds a cobblestone tower with BDubs, etc. But for all that he's healing, such a process isn't linear. No one on the server can truly understand just what sort of stuff he has been through, and so he often finds himself alone, trying to deal with his wildest emotions by talking to himself.

One day, however, a little voice in his head starts talking back. It's rough and gravelly and not very nice at first, but it's faint enough that he chalks it up to his imagination and moves on with his life. He follows Stress around like a duckling for a day, plays squire for Welsknight, and has a roaring panic attack after an unfortunate spar with False leads to him getting flashbacks to the Pit with Technoblade. He retreats back to his tower for a good cry, and in the midst of his tears, he hears the voice again. This time it's a bit nicer, sounding unsure and a bit panicky as it tries to encourage him to stop crying, god this is awkward, kid, it'll be fine. Wait, are you a kid? You seem tall for a munchkin.

This time, Tommy knows that it isn't his imagination, but half of his old server seemed to have voices in their heads so he really isn't all that alarmed that he seemed to have developed one of his own too. And he does something that no one else does when Evil X reaches out- he starts talking back. It's rough going, at first, especially since both of them have abrasive personalities, but eventually they settle into a rough estimation of friendship that means more to them then they are willing to say. From Evil X's perspective, this is the first time someone has actually listened to him and hasn't been turned away by his violent streak, his bad manners, and lack of proper social skills. For Tommy, this is a chance to vent to someone who seems to understand his pain. It helps that neither of them are inclined to ask too many questions. Tommy, on his part, has no clue that Evil X is an actual person and not a voice in his head, while Evil X can't bring himself to ask why Tommy has left a trail of code in the void and why it's all so glitched. He especially fears asking about the perma-death clause that seems to naturally have occurred in his code.

He will come to regret this choice.

The day is like any other, at first. He begins his day with a slice of sweet melon and then flies off to whatever hermits are awake at the time to "share a meal with them." Really, it started as an excuse to make sure that Tommy was eating at least one meal day, even in his most dissociative of states, but has since turned into an opportunity to eat weird things in front of people to see their reactions. (Etho is his favorite. He's always up early and half the time, asks to try a bite of whatever Tommy is having. They both agree that spider eyes taste a lot like sour boba.) From there it's off to the shopping district to restock his dirt shop and claim his share of the profits from the hole-digging service he runs with Grian. After that, there's just enough time to complete an order or two and collect more cobble and dirt before he has to meet up with Grian to go on their biweekly End Busting session. The two usually have a lot of fun as they go about it, Tommy jokingly shoving Grian off the platform only for his adopted brother to catch himself and fly up to join him on the narrow platform spanning the emptiness once again. Every once in a while, Grian mock-threatens to do the same in return, but he knows better than to actually attempt it after he did it once and had had to catch Tommy when he started screaming and even after they had gotten back to solid ground, he wouldn't stop for the better part of half an hour.

On habits die hard, after all. Tommy may have been told time and time again by everyone on the server that infinite respawns are a thing, yes really, but he still has a hard time believing it. He actually has a rather insane number of levels racked up- even more than Xisuma, which is impressive- because in all the months that he has been on Hermitcraft, he hasn't died once. It's a combination of survival skills taught to him by Philza and his own paranoia which has kept him alive for so long, and most of the hermits agree that it is rather impressive, if not entirely healthy for him to be so scared of dying. (Doc once offered to kill him as evidence that yes, it really is safe here and you will respawn, but for all that death by crazy redstone machine might of been cool, Tommy took a hard pass on that. Grian low key took exception to Doc offering to kill his adopted little brother, really man? Not cool.)

Anyway, Grian and Tommy meet up in the End and start off bridging with the insane amount of cobble that Tommy has stored up. Usually Tommy is in front, placing the stones, and Grian is in back, watching out for any sign of a slip up, but this time they decide to switch it up a bit, head in a new direction, play around with who's doing what this time. It ends... poorly. They bridge out into the black, on and on and on, farther into the void than they ever have before. Slowly, the islands of floating white stone stop appearing with such frequency, but they become larger in size and stranger in shape. Every once in a while Grian will see what he swears to be a glowing white mountain of Endstone in the distance, although Tommy calls bullshit each and every time. They chalk it all up to bad luck and going nuts from boredom, but really, neither one of them knows how to quit while they're ahead. As the islands disappear altogether and all that remains to orient themselves is the tenuous lifeline of cobblestone beneath their feet, the unthinkable happens.

Grian slips. And Tommy, taught compassion by the very world that will now kill him, reaches out to save him.

For one, brief moment, the two brothers clasp hands- and then Grian's weight pulls Tommy right over the edge and down, down, down into the void below.

Grian fell out of the world.

Tommy fell out of the world... and into a new one.

----

Xisuma wakes up late that day. He's been doing that a lot, if he's honest, given how late he's staying up most nights finishing up builds and the like. Those hours of sleep have to come from somewhere, after all, and he's far from an early bird. He gives into the impulse to relax a bit, drinking some tea sweetened with just enough honey to rot his teeth, and then heads off to his computer room to start up his duties as admin for the day. It's the red lights that alert him to something being wrong, and at first, he thinks it's just one of hermits' cam accounts being buggy again. Perhaps it got shut off while the hermit was bridging through the void and the hermit in question simply hadn't retrieved it yet? But who would name their cam account Tommyinnit? The looming dread sits cold in his gut as he flicks his fingers to open up his admin panel... Best to check, just in case.

The death messages are clear enough- Keralis had just perished to a ravager yesterday, likely Tango's from Decked Out if he had to guess. Zedaph had been slain by a piglin twenty minutes ago. And Grian and Tommy had fallen into the void. But if that were the case... why had only one of them respawned?

On Grian's part, he comes to with a lingering chill deep in his bones and an awful headache. The bed underneath him is warm and the sheets are a soft rosy color, likely one of the ones in Scar's magical village if the persistent smell of spruce is anything to go by. He winces against the light filtering through the window and turns to the side, squinting at where Tommy had placed his blue bed right next to his, apology on his lips for his stupid mistake. The sheets are undisturbed. Huh. That's weird, he could have sworn that he and Tommy had set their respawn points at the same time. Maybe Tommy had just forgotten and he was back in his base or at spawn? Grian rises to his feet slowly, giving his body time to adjust to the colors and sounds of the Overworld, then flaps his wings and takes off to go looking for his Tommy.

He doesn't find him.

---

The reactions to Tommy's "death" are many and varied, although for the most part, the hermits are split into two camps- those that think Tommy is gone for good, and those that think he may still be out there somewhere. For the first few days of Tommy's disappearance, most everyone is in the latter camp. Xisuma spends hours upon hours scanning the code, becoming increasingly more frazzled and terrified as his lack of sleep gets to him. Tango and Doc join him in the endeavor, although none of them have any luck or are able to spot the piece of code that caused the problem. No additions, no changes to the text, nothing. Grian leads the other team, those who set out on foot and one wing and with pick in hand to scour the world for their youngest charge, taken from them too soon. They begin in a grid pattern, setting out in ones and twos to search the whole world, but as the distance increases, the neat, orderly flyovers turn into frenzied boosting as panic starts to get the better of them. Some of them hold onto their composure better than others, but Grian ends up flying over the same patch of forest three times because he can't see for his tears. False, Impulse, Welsknight, and Beef cross the Nether, fighting their way into Bastion after Bastion and leaving Nether portals in their wake. In their tracks comes the fliers- Grian, Ren, Iskall, and BDubs. Each one takes a portal and does a sweep through the corresponding patch of Overworld before picking a direction to continue the search. Cubfan, iJevin, and Scar take to the seas, Mumbo, Stress, xB, and Zedaph to the End, Etho down into the depths of the caves below. Strangely enough, there are a few hermits who don't join the search- Keralis, who got the unlucky task of taking care of Xisuma and the others searching through the code, Tinfoilchef, who doesn't provide a reason but everyone gives him a pass because of his age, and Joe Hills and Zombie Cleo, who refuse to explain themselves.

Eventually, the searches dry up. Eventually, some of the hermits admit defeat. Hundreds of thousands of blocks out from spawn, down to the bedrock below, beneath sea and sky and every place that lacks the sun. How far is too far? For Xisuma, enough is enough. Tommy is dead. The search is over.

He stops looking. And soon, others do the same.

And the tone of the server... shifts.

For the first time that any of them can remember, a person has perma-died. Sure, they've all heard the rumors, of servers where infinite respawns is not the norm, of servers where the world glitched and a creeper is supercharged enough to damage a player down to their code. But they'd never thought that one of their own would be on the receiving end of such a curse. And to the hermits, the possibility of dying themselves suddenly becomes all too real. The constant flying is the first to go, and for those that insist on it anyway (outside of Grian, who has wings), checking the elytras' durability becomes more than just a habit. Eating spider eyes and other junk is out of the question, now it's golden apples or nothing. The Nether is all but abandoned, as is the End, and everyone on the server either groups up so that they are never alone, or retreats into their bases, becoming true hermits befitting of their server's name.

The joy that had once been so characteristic of the server is gone, and in the hearts of all, there lingers the dread that any one of them might be next- although, there are still those that hold on to hope that Tommy may not be as gone as he seems.

---

The hermits who think Tommy is dead for good and have stopped searching: Doc, Etho, Xisuma, Welsknight, Grian, BDubs, Cubfan, TinfoilChef, Stress, False, Iskall.

The hermits who think Tommy is still out there, alive if still missing, and that the search should continue: Keralis, Mumbo, Tango, Vintage Beef, Impulse, Zedaph, Joe Hills, Zombie Cleo, Scar, Rendog, xB.

Doc and Etho are old. They don't like to admit it, but they've been around since the beginning, back when players were first learning how to jump servers and communicator technology was undergoing its first upgrade. They've seen a lot and know well by now that dead is dead. Tommy is dead. All that is left to do is mourn and move on, and they have shed their tears already. Call them cold for it, but in the face of a kind of drive that can keep a man going after his entire server has burnt down around his ears (Mindcrack will be missed), they know they need to keep moving forward. There are enough broken messes on the server these days, and it is through their efforts that shops remain stocked and the torches don't burn out. They hold onto normalcy with an iron grip and hope that some day, the rest of the hermits will join them in rationality.

Stress too has a comparatively healthy approach to all of this. She doesn't want it to be true, god no, but so far everything is pointing in the direction of Tommy being dead for good. She eats a couple dozen bowls of ice cream, has a some good cries, doesn't leave her base for a week, and even afterwards she can't bring herself to wear pink for a while. But she's mourning. She's accepted things. She lets her heart break, and as time passes, she lets herself heal. And that's enough for her.

Scar is of the opinion that Tommy is still out there, and while he clings to that hope with all his might, it's fragile and Cub just knows that his best friend is going to be cut to pieces when that hope inevitably breaks. So he takes Scar aside for a quiet conversation, to break his heart before the world can break it for him. Afterwards, Scar stops talking about Tommy as if he's coming back, but his smile is never as bright as it was before. And Cub's heart breaks too.

Team ZIT swings the exact opposite way as the rest and are firmly of the belief that permadeath is impossible and thus Tommy must be alive. The three of them aren’t known for their impulse control at the best of times, and with so many hermits having given up, the trio is rightfully vicious about the fact that the others, in their eyes, have abandoned their friend. Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango all kind of feed into one another and start doing lots of dangerous stunts, as if daring the universe to permakill them and prove them wrong. If one of them does something, the other two join in and escalate things, which gets impossibly dangerous very, very fast. Tango is furious, Impulse is bitter, and Zedaph is straight up heartbroken that his other friends would give up on another of their number. They do things like fly incredibly high, go cliff jumping in the Nether only to catch themselves at the last minute, and sprint across the End bridges. If they have doubts, they never voice them. Even when Tango feels like he’s burning up from the inside and wonders at his newfound hate. Even when Impulse is utterly terrified but goes along with things anyway because Tango is doing it and he can’t bear to leave a friend alone. Even when Zedaph looks at his friends and can’t help but feel scared of and for these strangers wearing the faces he knows so well. Even then.

Team ZIT often gets dragged into and starts lots of screaming fights with the other hermits who believe Tommy is dead, especially Doc, BDubs, xB, and False. False especially gets vicious, as while pvp is no longer permitted on the server, her tongue is as sharp as any blade. She believes firmly that the others are trampling on Tommy’s memory by insisting that he isn’t dead and she is determined to make them stop. And if they refuse to give up their foolishness? Well, all she might have left is her words but with them she will make them bleed.

xB and Vintage Beef are as close to neutral as you are going to get from those that get into regular arguments. xB thinks Tommy is dead until proven otherwise, while Beef thinks the exact reverse. As some of the more chill hermits, they often get dragged in to play negotiator so that the fights don’t turn physical. And some days, when someone says something particularly hurtful, they’ll close themselves up in one of xB’s bunkers and drink until they can no longer remember why they ought to be enemies. It’s hardly healthy, but they both agree that it’s better this way. Better to forget than to hurt, after all.

Grian is… somewhat the same. Sort of. He was traumatized by Tommy, the boy he adopted as his little brother, dying before his eyes, and he can’t help but blame himself. That is, when he can remember that Tommy is dead at all. After the fall, Grian’s mind was badly broken and he couldn’t accept that his little brother was dead for the longest time. He fell into two weeks of deep depression, barely eating or drinking, and eventually Iskall came and took care of him when he realized that he hadn’t seen his buddy in ages. Iskall nursed Grian back to health, only to feel his heart shatter in his breast when Grian turned to him, eyes feverishly bright and tone childlike, asking where Tommy was. The winged man’s mind couldn’t cope with the loss so it had shut down entirely, making him forget the tragedy that had occured. Iskall had deflected then, frantically trying to figure out what to say, but after a few days of Grian wandering about in a dreamlike state, his memory came back to him and he collapsed in on himself once more. The winged hermit is now locked in a loop of this, while poor Iskall is stuck trying to keep his friend alive and relatively sane.

Iskall, for his part, thinks Tommy is well and truly dead. In part because of his own certainty, in part because anything else would be even crueler for Grian. He doesn’t resent his friend for his break downs, just quietly bundles him up and clutches him close, coaxing him to eat and bathe, to put down the guilt and realize that it’ll be okay, the world won’t end with Tommy gone. He gently tries to nudge Grian down that path of acceptance of Tommy’s fate, and though he faces many setbacks, he tackles each one with a special kind of patience born of platonic love. They’re bros, despite everything. It’s only right.

Mumbo is, weirdly enough, on the side of Tommy being alive. Iskall doesn’t exactly approve and while he and Mumbo sometimes get into whispered arguments over it, they try to keep their little disagreements from Grian. Both of them only want to see their friend happy again, and will do just about anything to make it happen. For Mumbo, this means putting together crazy redstone contraptions to try and find Tommy again, as he’s certain that Grian’s little brother is still out there somewhere- and he has a piece that might prove it. Iskall comes over one day, face drawn and haggard from a night of soothing Grian through another set of screaming nightmares, only to find Mumbo waist high in redstone wiring, all hooked up to a strange portal design that looks too much like Doc’s infinity portal from season 6 for comfort. At the top of the arch is Tommy’s compass, needle whirling about like a hurricane, and while the portal isn’t lit, it does give off a faint blue-black glow. Iskall is frightened that Mumbo is tampering with something that could get him killed and Mumbo rushes to reassure him that no, the compass was specifically linked to Tommy so if Tommy was really dead, it would have been reset, right? He’s merely borrowing that tie to try and figure out where the two ends lead. Iskall is less than sure about this, especially since Mumbo is just as drawn and pale as he is, if a bit more covered in redstone, but they agree that fighting is pointless. They care about each other and about Grian too much to put any of them through that sort of pain- and besides, there’s more than enough fighting on the server already.

Ren too thinks that Tommy is alive and he is one of the ones who gets into regular fights. He’s a lover, not a fighter, but something about this whole situation just burns him up. When the pressure gets too much, he goes flying, tracing over those old familiar trails they searched so long ago, trying to see if there is anything they missed. There never is.

Welsknight has made his peace with Tomy’s death, though the server tends to forget that he and Tommy were closer than most. He alone knew that Tommy was once upon a time a boy called Theseus (a name given to him shyly when Tommy had asked him if there were any great heroes with that name that didn’t die). He alone knew Tommy’s love for horses, or that he would spend hours whispering horror stories to them when he thought no one would hear. Tommy was his squire, and although he had accepted the tragedy, he still wept for the hurt it brought him. He alone knew of the little grave he had dug under the willow tree in his castle courtyard and the headstone he had placed there, engraved with Tommy’s true name, death date, and supposed date of birth. He couldn’t have been more than 17, and perhaps that was what hurt the most. Every morning at dawn, Welsknight brings a bouquet of flowers to that little grave and says a prayer before disappearing into the morning fog. The flowers are always the same- forget me nots, for remembrance, violets, for devotion, and clover. (Think of me).

Tinfoilchef stays out of it- always has and always will. He’s too old to rush about searching or to feel as wildly as the others do. He feels, of course, but more so as the mountain does, steady and strong despite the winds that tear at its surface. Tommy is dead, but then, so are many of the people he has known in his life. It’s best to just keep plodding along.

BDubs is a mess. He had never spoken of it, but long before he had come to hermitcraft, he had had a daughter- a beautiful baby girl whose heart was too big for her chest, and she had died for that difference. He had grieved for years, but eventually the peace of the hermitcraft server had left him soothed, if a bit different than before. Tommy had been another chance at fatherhood, not that he could ever bear to call the teen that, even in the privacy of his own mind. Instead, he had taught the kid to build cobblestone towers that weren’t entirely offensive (if shaped a bit oddly) and had been the first to volunteer any time Grian was out and Tommy needed a place to spend the night when the nightmares were particularly fierce. They had so many fun sleepovers like that, and staring at those awful cobble towers in the distance, BDubs can’t help but bawl his eyes out at the memories. He waffles between taking the towers down or leaving them up- they really are ugly, and the feelings in his chest that they inspire are even more so, but somehow, he can’t bear to see them gone. Instead, he dries his eyes, flies off to grab a shulker of cobble, and sets about adding a few more to their number. A final remembrance for the boy he would have gladly claimed as his own, if only he hadn’t been too late. (He ends up building a lot more than a few).

Joe and Cleo are somehow the only ones who are actually neutral in the whole mess. Whenever they are asked their opinion on if Tommy is truly dead or not, the pair simply smile mysteriously and refuse to comment. Joe always seems to know more than he lets on and Cleo is his closest confidant, after all. Despite the anger and tears directed their way for refusing to commit to either side, the two keep their silence. (They know the truth of the matter, after all. Everything will be okay in time).

Xisuma has given up. Tommy is dead, and there is nothing he can do but spend days and days going over the code with a fine tooth comb, trying to find the glitch that cut the life of their youngest member short. Keralis takes it upon himself to take care of his long time friend, but it’s not an easy task, not when the other is so determined to make sure that such an incident never happens again. And Keralis can’t find it in himself to complain, especially since he is laboring under the impression that Xisuma agrees that Tommy is still out there and is trying to find him. It is only when Keralis mentions it in an aside, thanking the admin for his dedication, that Xisuma breaks the illusion and explains. Tommy isn’t just dead, he says tiredly, his very presence is well and truly wiped from the world’s code. All that is left of him is the faint impression his code had left behind, and trying to read it and understand what went wrong is a bit like trying to read small letters that have been drawn out in dry sand. Even for a voidwalker like himself such a task is near impossible, and Xisuma can only do so much. The needs of the many above the needs of the few- best to secure those he can now than worry over those that are gone beyond his reach. And Keralis can’t help but look at his friend with new eyes, a fleeting sense of betrayal in his heart. He had thought better of his Shishwammy, and he says as much. 

He cries while Xisuma watches on in solemn, mournful silence.

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TBC  :)