#drove through a place called shepherd-something and didn’t even see any sheeps :(

[destructive-delight]

mistake number one is always assuming you can willpower your tiredness away. mistake number two is taking caffeine about it. the only correct answer is nap (by any means necessary).

[magicalbats]

Tavern Nights (Sampo x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 5949

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, alcohol, coercion, manipulation, just generally skeevy/predatory behavior, age difference, size difference, public fondling, public nudity, implied public blowjob

A/N: My second commission from the donation's for Parm. I was once again lucky enough to get permission to post this for everyone to read and (hopefully) enjoy, and I am very glad for that. I just don't think Sampo gets enough love! Someday everyone who's been sleeping on him will regret it, I promise you that! Anyway, thank you so, so much for working with me on this @rabbbitseason I had a blast! ❤️

⭐

It's been a long, long time since he last frequented The Tavern as much as he has in just the past week alone. When he was young and still figuring out his place in this expansive universe, he’d spent countless nights here simply taking in the ambiance and the drink, with maybe even a bit of gambling on the side here or there. Maybe a bit of fucking too, when he found an interesting partner to take into one of the frequently used back rooms. And the Masked Fool’s had no shortage of interesting people. 

But now he was older, arguably wiser and not quite so easily taken in by all the revelry and merrymaking of the familiar old haunt. In truth, he hadn’t thought he’d ever visit this place again after willingly parting with his mask. Sparkle drove a hard bargain though and after spending too much time with her on Penacony it was hard to tell her ‘no’ and actually mean it. 

He’d tried. Really, he had. But he hadn’t meant it. 

She’d seen right through it, of course. 

Sparkle isn’t with him tonight, nor had she been at his side the previous time either. Just that first fateful evening, wherein she’d pretended to be the good little chaperone accompanying her charge back to where he belonged (according to her, at least) like a shepherd returning the lost sheep to its flock. She’d ditched him quickly enough after that but he was fine with it. Glad, actually, because he’d managed to find someone much more his speed than ole’ miss Sparkle who in many ways had proven herself nothing but trouble. 

“Mister Koski! I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon!” 

His poor heart practically melts into an unrecognizable puddle right then and there as you come bouncing over to him with an excited grin on your face. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had been so excited to see him, if ever such a person had existed at all. It does his ego a world of good, and he pins you with a dotingly indulgent smile when you come to a stop before him. 

“Now, now. I told you to drop the formalities, didn’t I kiddo’? Just call me ‘Sampo’.”

“Okay, mister Sampo! Will do!” 

Cute. He thinks it’s really quite cute in a way that doesn’t seem particularly fair to him, or any other man with a working pair of eyes and a functioning cock, but he isn’t about to tell you that. You were already fidgeting before him like you were flustered under his attention, or perhaps excited to be on the receiving end of it, and he didn’t want to break the illusion just yet. 

In terms of young rookie Fools, you were perhaps the most bright eyed and bushy tailed he’d ever met. He’d seen more than his fair share over the years, had even been one himself at some point in the far distant past, but he’d never known one quite like you. Even putting aside your obvious fascination with him (only partially owed to his usual charms, he's willing to admit) there was something about you that just screamed … naive and a little too trusting. Like ‘please take advantage of me’ was stamped across your forehead in permanent ink. 

Sampo wonders, not for the first time, how exactly you ended up here with a dainty little mask perched atop the crown of your head like a hat. A somewhat unsettling hat, albeit, but a hat nonetheless. It looks like the blank face of a doll, which he finds rather fitting for you, with a full set of luxurious lashes but no eyes and no hair. Just an adorable button nose and a tiny mouth set in a neutral pout. He probably would have found it a bit creepy had it not only added on to just how very interesting he considered you to be. 

“Alright, enough of that. I’m just stopping in for one last drink before I head out.” He tells you with a velvety drawl. “Would you care to join me?” 

At some point he was probably going to end up regretting this but for right now at least he deemed that a problem for Future Sampo to worry about. In the present, he was much more keen on having some fun with you first before any silly notions like impropriety or moral obligation managed to sink its claws into him. 

At your eager nod, he reaches out to take your shoulder in what most would likely consider a too friendly gesture but you don’t even bat an eye at it when he steers you towards the back of the establishment. Finds a nice unoccupied booth in the corner, away from all the other Fool’s who have largely gathered around the bar to have their drinks and play cards with one another, the wagers of which could have ranged from anything as mundane as simple credits to the outrageous sort he’d seen on more than one occasion here. A long lost relic from a forgotten civilization, once, or even a mutually assured self destruction button courtesy of miss Sparkle herself. It was her favorite toy, after all. 

Much to his satisfaction, you obediently sit when he nudges you into the booth, scooting over along the bench to give him some space to join you. Bending at the waist when a chorus of hoots and hollers rises up behind him, Sampo has to lean down and get close to your ear in order to ensure he’s heard over the raucous noise. 

“What can I get you to drink, sweetheart? It’s on me.” 

There you go squirming again, looking really quite pleased as you sit up a little straighter and round your shoulders for him. “Whatever you’re drinking is fine.” 

How precious. 

“Ooh, now that might turn out to be a bit dangerous if you’re not careful. I have a feeling I’m a tad more experienced than you when it comes to, uh, drinking.” 

If you find the sleazy note in his voice at all off putting you certainly don’t show it, looking up at him with the kind of bright faced confidence only someone in their youth can pull off. ‘Take advantage of me’, indeed. 

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself.” You tell him candidly. “It’ll be your mistake if you underestimate me.” 

Was that a challenge? If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were doing this to him on purpose. 

“Pft. I bet. Okay then, just sit tight. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. I’ll be back momentarily.” He starts to straighten up but not without sliding his hand down from where it had reached out to brace against the backrest of the booth seat just behind you. Perfectly casual about it, Sampo palms the top of your head in a quick, harmless pat that shifts the little mask and ruffles your hair just so before pulling away entirely. He doesn’t stop long enough to take in your reaction or gauge what you think about it. He doesn’t really need to. 

This was not the first time he’d touched you in such a seemingly off handed manner and he already knew you were preening under the attention. No matter how many times he’d tested the waters the reaction was always the same. You liked him. Wanted him to keep touching you like that, either knowingly or unknowingly, he couldn’t yet say for sure, but he was more than happy to give it to you regardless of the reason. Lucky you. 

He returns to the table a few minutes later with a freshly made drink in both hands, watching carefully from under the fringe of his hair when he sets yours in front of you. It’s a dark, murky looking concoction that seems to announce in no uncertain terms that it’s potent and strong with just a glance. As expected, you don’t look quite so sure of yourself anymore when you take in the thick consistency inside the stout glass. 

But you keep a brave face, which he has to give you credit for, especially when you don’t hesitate to pick it up at his nudging insistence. The first tentative sip has you choking at the taste even as you desperately try to blink away the tears that come into your eyes, and he can’t quite stop himself from laughing at your expense. 

Sampo doesn’t push it on you anymore than that though, finding it much more entertaining to watch you slowly try to drink it all down completely of your volition. He doesn’t even need to wheedle you or coerce you into it. You just do it — because you had something to prove? Or was it because you wanted so badly to impress him that you were willing to get yourself drunk just to accomplish it? He isn’t entirely sure on that front either but it doesn’t actually matter. You were doing exactly what he’d hoped you would and that pleases him a great deal. 

By the time an hour has gone by, you’re slumped against him in the booth with your head tilted back, resting along his bicep where it’s curled over the back of the seat. He’s kept you talking for the greater portion of your time spent together, alternating between one triviality or another just to ensure you don’t accidentally doze off on him. He could now name your favorite color, the school you’d attended back on your home planet and the breed of your first pet. You hadn’t struck him as the sort to be fond of Pettu Hamsters, bizarre little rodent-like beasts that laid eggs and curled themselves into tight balls for protection, but you’d assured him that you were quite fond of them. Given the no nonsense look you’d leveled on him, he believed you. 

“And you know what happened next?”

It’s obvious you’re a little too relaxed to be self conscious anymore, and he doesn’t say a word about it when you not so subtly shift closer to him on the bench. You’re practically pressed right up against his side now but, still, he doesn’t make his move yet. Sampo may have technically been working to pull one over on you but that didn’t mean he was going to be a pig about it. 

“I’d never seen a meteor shower like that before. All up close and personal, right outside my window. It was pretty cool but kind of scary at the same time.” You’re rambling about nothing in particular. Just a fond reminiscence of the long list of firsts you’d experienced upon leaving home, which Sampo listens in on as much as he needs to. There were a few other first time things he wanted to introduce you to, provided you didn’t fall asleep on top of him before then. “I thought for sure one of them was going to slam into the ship and — and vacuum us out into space! All I remember going through my head at the time was that I didn’t want to die like that. I can’t imagine it would feel great. What do you think?” 

You tip your face towards him with the sluggish, heavy lidded lethargy of someone well and truly buzzed. Sampo just chuckles as he tips his chin down, cheek braced against his propped up fist for support. 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night, darling. What was that you said earlier about being able to handle yourself?” 

Unmistakable fluster creeps across your expression, distant though it may be under the hazy mask of intoxication. “I didn’t know you’d get me something so strong. Are you sure you weren’t purposely trying to get me drunk?” 

Feigning hurt, Sampo draws his brows together in an overly affected lift and places his opposite hand over his heart. “Why, I never! Such a serious accusation to lobby at a gentleman of my esteemed standing. Just ask anyone here, missy, and they’ll tell you exactly what kind of upstanding, trustworthy guy Sampo Koski is!” 

You giggle at his theatrics and reach over to weakly shove at him. Your arm seems to immediately lose all of its remaining strength though, and rather bonelessly flops down to stretch out along his thigh. He can see his moment to strike fast approaching but it still wasn’t the perfect time. Soon, very soon, just not quite yet. 

“You’re funny.” 

“We’re all a bit funny here, I’m afraid.” He murmurs, dropping his voice to a slyly suggestive drawl again. “You’ve still got some growing to do if you want to fit into that mask on your head. Want some pointers?” 

Huffing softly at the suggestion, you visibly muster up the strength to send him a weak look of warning. “I’m already grown. I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now if I wasn’t, would I?” 

Sampo sends a slow look of appraisal down at your chest, noting the weight behind the thin material of your blouse while images of what your bare breasts might look like dance through his head. Yes, there certainly would be no denying that you were of a mature build and filled out in all the right places. 

“Mmm, if we’re talking physically then you’re right, of course. I doubt anything I say would help you get any taller.” 

“Hey.” 

“But I wasn’t talking about that,” He goes on, ignoring your interjection. “I meant your future as a Masked Fool. You haven’t drawn Aha’s gaze yet, have you sweetness?” 

“… no.” 

You look like you want to pout about that, and Sampo chuckles at the petulant tug of your mouth. Seriously too cute. 

“Oh, but fret not, little one.” He coos. “You’ve got me here to show you the ropes, don’t you? I promise I’m a good teacher.” 

You seem to think about that for a long moment, giving it the due consideration of someone who hasn’t yet picked up on the scam. Not that he could really blame you or the alcohol making your eyes look so heavy and tired. Sampo was good at the game. Always had been, even when he was younger, and his technique had only continued to improve over time. Most people assumed him far too goofy and painfully obvious to harbor any ulterior motives after he started laying it on thick enough. That was the real angle to his schemes, once you got right down to it. Hiding in plain sight was in many ways his specialty. 

“What will you teach me?” You finally ask, roving your attention up towards his face once again. The way you look at him is so unassuming and guileless that he knew he could have offered you a tropical vacation home on Jarilo-VI and you probably would have bought into it without question. Poor thing. 

The muscles along his back gradually start to tense with the building anticipation of finally making his move, of pouncing on his chosen prey to claim it for himself, and he leans down, practically engulfing you in the mass of his much larger frame. You feel as tiny sitting next to him on the bench seat as you look, far outclassed by his much taller, broader build and such a sharp contrast to your feminine stature. He could have easily overpowered you if that was how he’d wanted to go about it but, well, Sampo Koski was never one for doing things the hard way if he could help it. 

His face now hovering just over yours with precious room to spare, he slowly reaches up to brush the tips of gloved fingers under your chin. Your lashes flutter at the touch, threatening to slide shut, but an attention grabbing upward nudge prompts them wide open again. 

“There are a few things I can think of,” He purrs, secretly delighting in the way you start to squirm for him. Nervous or eager? He’d find out soon enough. “An old dog like me has his trusty bag of tricks, rest assured. I’d be happy to share some with you, if you’re interested?” 

Your mouth parts, a tiny pink tongue inching out to glance over your lips and wet them. It almost makes him crack. Almost throws all of his self control and restraint right out the window, but he forces himself to wait. To let you respond first before he goes in for the kill. It would make everything so, so much more satisfying in the long run. 

“Okay.” You finally murmur. “I’m game.” 

“Glad to hear it. Shall we seal the deal and make it official then?” 

A small sound of confusion slips out of you but then he’s leaning the rest of the way in, closing the scant distance. You don’t protest or pull away. Just watch him with wide, fascinated eyes as he tilts his mouth to slot against yours, and a dull jolt works through your body at the contact. He keeps it brief and gentle, a mere brushing of mouths, before pulling back enough to pin you with a lopsided smirk. 

“There. Now it’s a promise.”

Tentatively, you reach up to touch your bottom lip. “Is that how all the Fool’s make their promises?” 

He shrugs broad shoulders, tracing shapes along the side of your neck with blunt fingers. “Only the really fun ones.”

Extending his thumb to prod the underside of your chin, Sampo carefully nudges your face back up at him until your hand finally falls away and you comply, offering him a vaguely flustered look. 

“Another, for good luck?” 

The first real glimpse of uncertainty flashes across your face at that. You hesitate, flicking a quick glance behind him at the rest of the bar and — 

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about them.” Soothingly, he cups your cheek in what otherwise would have been a comforting gesture had it not been for the way he gives the roundest part of your face a quick, mostly harmless pinch. “They’ll mind their business so there’s no need to get shy on me now. Besides, I’ve already kissed you once haven’t I? What harm could one more do?” 

You still don’t appear to be totally convinced but you give him a brief, stilted nod anyway. He’s pretty sure it’s the unmistakable gleam of excitement he can see reflecting back at him in your gaze, unsquashable despite your obvious nerves, and Sampo feels a smoldering hot rush of victory sear through his veins when he leans into your space again. 

His mouth brushing over yours in a light, coaxing caress, you simply sit there for a long moment of indecision like a frozen, petrified statue. So still he isn’t even sure if you’re breathing. But then, thoroughly dashing that impression against the floor, you come alive under him all at once. Give a squirming shudder and press up into him, fervently kissing him back as if in outright challenge. He feels your lips trembling against his and he can’t quite keep the leer off his face when he increases the pressure to kiss you just a little bit harder, claiming you as his own. 

The discordant noise of revelry and drinking, Fool’s eternally at play, seems to highlight the poignancy of what’s happening in the booth situated in the far back while at the same time it also recedes to a far distant thrum of vague sounds. Like everyone else in The Tavern was on the other side of some great, reverberating tunnel. His attention is focused entirely on you and the way you slowly bring your hand up to tentatively brace the palm of it against his chest. Your fingers feel dainty, something small and fragile, and he quickly decides to return the favor. 

Sliding his own hand down off your cheek, over the line of your neck and past the soft jut of your clavicle, he takes a slow pass over one breast. They’re big but his hands are bigger still, and it easily cups around the full weight of it behind your blouse. You react like he’d electrocuted you, jolting in your seat as your head tips back and your lips slacken, dropping open as if to moan. But he just follows you, keeping his lips sealed over yours so he can plunge his tongue into that cute, hot little mouth and truly taste you for the first time. 

Noising an incomprehensible kitten mewl against him, you close your hand around his shirt and give it a halfhearted tug. Like you wanted to pull him in closer but you weren’t quite confident enough to follow through on that urge; like your head was spinning a shade too fast from the alcohol as much as the surge of physical responses in your body to make any sense of what was happening and act on it. 

Sampo can tell you’re enjoying it though. It doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure that out. 

The proof is as plain as if you’d spoken the words aloud. You don’t bite at his tongue when it invades your mouth to explore every little nook and cranny inside, nor do you pull away in revulsion when he leisurely fucks it towards the back of your throat in slow, suggestive motions. You also don’t attempt to slap his hand away when it comes back up to caress over the fullest part of your breast again. He can feel your nipple rapidly stiffening underneath the layers of your clothes, responding to him with a great deal of eager enthusiasm that has you shuddering and pressing your legs together. So sensitive. 

He could really exploit that if given half a chance. 

At length, he breaks apart from the kiss with a low, seedy exhale of deeply felt masculine pleasure. Peers down at you with an easy, self satisfied grin, but you look to be a bit out of it and lost in your own little world. With your head tipped back and rested against his arm where it’s still curled over the top of the booth seat, you merely blink up at him through a hazy, distant gleam in your eyes. Panting softly, as if you couldn’t quite catch your breath while he was idly fondling your tit. Hardly any wonder there, given how much you seemed to be feeling everything in stunning high definition, but he wasn’t quite done with you yet. 

“Oh my, it seems like someone is having a good time now. I wasn’t expecting you to look at me like that, kiddo’. You’re gonna’ have this old man falling in love if you’re not careful.” 

Your breath catches in obvious surprise, a vaguely startled expression creeping onto your face. Sampo doesn’t give you a chance to question him or realize that he was only teasing though, and instead tips his attention downward to regard the weight of your chest. A fresh wave of innate satisfaction washes over him when you do the same, following his line of sight to peer down at yourself as well. 

“You’re looking a little hot under the collar, y’know. Let me help you with that.” 

Fingertips tracing the path over your breast, he reaches lower and you finally seem to snap out of it. You give a quick start, fumbling to get your hands down to try and grab at him, but even with both sets of digits locked around his blocky wrist it’s easy enough for him to tug your blouse free of your cute little skirt and get it inched up enough to reveal a smooth strip of your fluttering stomach. 

“M - mister Sampo!” You squeak, halfheartedly twisting in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. “We’re — we’re still in public, you can’t - -“

“Hush now, sweetheart. Your ol’ pal Sampo’s got you. There’s nothing to be afraid of. See?” With a taunting flick of his hand, your blouse rises up another inch or so, and with it so too do your eyes grow even wider. “No ones even paying attention to us over here so they won’t see anything. Trust me. I’ll make sure of that. After all, you’re mine now, aren’t you? Can’t have anyone else eyeballing the goods, right?” 

Numbly, your gaze roves up to regard him again. There’s an unspoken question behind your expression, a sentiment that you hesitate to give voice to, and he just hums a playful little tune under his breath while he continues to toy the hem of your top. One more nudge is all it would take to reveal what sort of bra you were wearing and he couldn’t wait to find out. His bet was on something soft and girly, with a bow or maybe even a bit of lace? But first … 

“Don’t tell me you’re really that scared, sweetness? Even with me here?” 

Your brow pinches inward, creating an adorable little crease between them to go with the almost petulant pull of your mouth. An internal war wages, bloody and violent, behind your eyes while you no doubt weigh out the multitude of options at your fingertips. The truth or a deceitful lie, which would you ultimately decide? Sampo knew which one he would pick had it been him standing under the spotlight but he’d meant it when he said you still had a lot left to learn. That part, at least, hadn’t been facetious. 

Finally making your decision another series of heartbeats later, you at last give him a mute nod. It pulls a soft, doting sound from deep within his chest and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside as he dips his face close again, rumbling a low sound of approval. 

“Aww, you poor thing. It’s okay though. Just trust your old friend Sampo, okay? Here, I’ll even make it better with another kiss.” 

This time you eagerly tip your face up to meet him halfway, and a soft sound of need puffs out of you when your lips meet again. He kisses you deeply now, claiming your mouth for himself and swiping his tongue inside with a possessive, demanding gesture that has you mewling faintly in response. As he’d half suspected you would, you positively melt under him like you were happy to give into the pulse pounding heat and the risk of the moment as long as he was there to guide you through it. To lead you and to teach, just as he’d promised you he would. 

Thoroughly placated now, you don’t protest or make a move to stop him while he inches your shirt the rest of the way up, but you do shudder uncontrollably at the first waft against your exposed chest. Still fervently kissing you, Sampo cracks an eye open and peers out from under the fringe of his hair to look at what he’s working with. A dull thrum of pleasure promptly races up his spine when he sees that your tits are just as juicy and tantalizing as he’d thought they’d be, and he voraciously watches them heave within the confines of your pale peach colored bra. It’s a lovely shade that complements your skin tone perfectly but he’s a bit too impatient to simply admire it or the dainty blue bow on the front for very long. 

You groan into his mouth, arching against the booth, when he casually slips a long digit under the middle center of the dainty undergarment but he just swallows the noise and tugs. Doesn’t even give you a moment to understand what he was planning to do, and your breasts spill out with a meaty jostle as the cups slide up and away. Your nipples are already stiff and aching when they hit the air, pointing up off your chest in demand of attention, and you finally tear your face from his with a threadbare, faltering gasp. 

Sampo can’t quite find the wherewithal to follow after you and lay claim to your mouth again when he was so damnably transfixed by the sight of your bare tits, round and squeezable in all their fleshy abundance. He feels suddenly faint from how violently his cock instantly springs up in his pants to shove at the inside of the zipper, only vaguely aware of you turning your head away in bashful reproach while your hands come up to crowd together over your chest. 

Oh, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He coos at you, the usually soft inflection of his voice noticeably absent now. It seems to have been replaced by a deeper, gravelly edge that makes his customary sing-song fall short. 

You don’t seem to mind though, much too preoccupied with softly whimpering when he takes one of your hands by the wrist and gently pries it away, curling it up and back so he can juggle it over to his opposite hand. Half restrained now, you can’t do much else but anxiously squirm in place when he reaches back down to lightly tweak the exposed tip of your breast between thumb and forefinger. 

“Ahhn!” 

“Mmm, these are awfully tender, aren’t they?” 

He doesn’t really expect a response, which is good, because you can’t seem to catch your breath long enough to actually speak. All that comes out of your mouth are short, tender little gasps and the softest moans his old ears have ever heard. It sounds like the sweetest music and he makes an effort to file it all away for later, when he was back in Belobog and lonely in the middle of the cold, frozen eternity that had yet to see any noticeable improvements since the Stellaron Disaster there was neutralized. Maybe someday it would, hopefully even soon, but he wasn’t expecting to return from this trip to find lush fields of green stretching as far as the eye could see. 

This night spent with you here in The Tavern was going to keep him comfortably warm for many more to come though, and he eagerly folds himself over you so he can bend down and seal his mouth around that pert, straining bud. You give a tiny little cry, a sensitive yelp that you quickly try to stifle, but not fast enough. 

Releasing his hold on your wrist, Sampo snakes his arm around the back of your head and covers your mouth with his broad palm. You let out a muffled protest behind his glove and try to turn your head away but it’s no use. He’s so much bigger and stronger than you that he can easily hold you in place no matter how you squirm or weakly shove at his forearm. Still sucking on your sore little teat, his mouth working the fleshy nub to a tight coil, he rolls his eyes upward to look at you from this angle. 

If he’d thought you were pretty before, now you were downright gorgeous. That hazy, flustered look of begrudging pleasure really suited you. Especially when it was because of what he was doing to you. 

He isn’t sure how much more of the anticipation he can stand when his cock was already aching, practically throbbing inside his pants, and he at least disengages from your breast with a noted hint of regret some moments later. In the wake of his attentions your stiff little teat is left flushed a noticeable shade darker than when he’d started and glistening with a fine sheen of sticky, fast cooling spit. The sight alone makes him groan, low and gravelly, as he looks upon it with longing. 

Oh, how he would’ve loved nothing more than to simply suckle at both of them for an hour or two but this was hardly the right place or time for him to indulge like that. Even what he had in mind for you had the potential to backfire with spectacularly disastrous (yet still amusing) results. It was time to get on with it before anyone’s attention was drawn towards the far back corner and curious interlopers came creeping over to check what was happening. 

“You seem to be quite sensitive, darling. Even moreso than I initially thought, and somethiiiiing tells me you’re going to be a screamer so we’ll have to play it a bit safe.” He murmurs, teasing you with a quick wink as he straightens up and allows his free hand to slide down lower to pinch at the hem of your skirt. 

Already askew from all of your fidgeting, it doesn’t take much for him to pull it up enough to reveal your panties moulded to the puffy outline of your cunt. Even just a quick glance assures him you’re wet and sticky given the way the matching peachy material sticks to you and he gives his tongue a soft click as if in reproach. 

“Really now, are you sure the possibility of getting caught isn’t exciting you? Well, you’re a hundred years too early to try and pull one over on Sampo Koski, I promise you that.” 

He shifts back into his seat to settle in next to you again before releasing his hold on your mouth. You promptly suck in a much needed lungful of fresh air, swaying somewhat unsteadily on the bench, but the reprieve is short lived. Grabbing you around the middle, Sampo effortlessly manhandles you around so he can pull you half into his lap, partially sprawled out across the seat and perfectly positioned over the tent in his trousers. Your little mask has been almost completely dislodged from its perch atop your head in all the shuffling, and he reaches up to pull it the rest of the way off while his other hand busily works on his zipper. 

“How about this,” He starts, using his most effective and well practiced salesman pitch, feeling much too hot and reckless to reconsider the wisdom in this move. If you finally decided you’d had enough of him and all his pawing it wouldn’t be hard for you to put him out of commission for the foreseeable future in this particular position. But, well, he didn’t really think he needed to worry about that too much. “Let’s keep that mouth of yours busy for right now and I’ll make it up to you later, huh? Whaddya’ say? I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

Panting and flushed, you slowly lift your face to regard him. A bright, sparkling gleam flashes through your eyes and you grin, looking like you were seconds away from bursting out into uncontrollable, wild laughter. You looked like a kid on Christmas morning being handed the one present she’d wanted more than anything else in the whole wide world and that youthful, beaming enthusiasm just makes his balls draw up achingly tight in heady anticipation. He couldn’t wait to sink himself into you. Any part of you. It didn’t really matter which, when you had him so painfully stiff in his pants and more worked up than he could recall being in a very long time. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mister Sampo.” 

He almost laughs too, feeling the familiar bubbling sensation gleefully rising in his chest, but it’s swallowed up and doused by a shaky groan of relief when he finally manages to fish his cock out. It was starting to make more sense to him, why you were here rather than anywhere else in the vast cosmos, but he didn’t care enough to dig for any real answers. 

All that mattered was that you were interesting and you were fun, and as long as the two of you were having fun together then everything else was irrelevant to him.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[dfroza]

A line from Today’s reading:

“Preserve the peace.”

this is how we are to be led in the heart even though the world can be an anxious place to be in.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is chapter 9 in the book of Mark:

Then he drove it home by saying, “This isn’t pie in the sky by and by. Some of you who are standing here are going to see it happen, see the kingdom of God arrive in full force.”

Six days later, three of them did see it. Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. His clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them. Elijah, along with Moses, came into view, in deep conversation with Jesus.

Peter interrupted, “Rabbi, this is a great moment! Let’s build three memorials—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah.” He blurted this out without thinking, stunned as they all were by what they were seeing.

Just then a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and from deep in the cloud, a voice: “This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him.”

The next minute the disciples were looking around, rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus, only Jesus.

Coming down the mountain, Jesus swore them to secrecy. “Don’t tell a soul what you saw. After the Son of Man rises from the dead, you’re free to talk.” They puzzled over that, wondering what on earth “rising from the dead” meant.

Meanwhile they were asking, “Why do the religion scholars say that Elijah has to come first?”

Jesus replied, “Elijah does come first and get everything ready for the coming of the Son of Man. They treated this Elijah like dirt, much like they will treat the Son of Man, who will, according to Scripture, suffer terribly and be kicked around contemptibly.”

When they came back down the mountain to the other disciples, they saw a huge crowd around them, and the religion scholars cross-examining them. As soon as the people in the crowd saw Jesus, admiring excitement stirred them. They ran and greeted him. He asked, “What’s going on? What’s all the commotion?”

A man out of the crowd answered, “Teacher, I brought my mute son, made speechless by a demon, to you. Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, grinds his teeth, and goes stiff as a board. I told your disciples, hoping they could deliver him, but they couldn’t.”

Jesus said, “What a generation! No sense of God! How many times do I have to go over these things? How much longer do I have to put up with this? Bring the boy here.” They brought him. When the demon saw Jesus, it threw the boy into a seizure, causing him to writhe on the ground and foam at the mouth.

He asked the boy’s father, “How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since he was a little boy. Many times it pitches him into fire or the river to do away with him. If you can do anything, do it. Have a heart and help us!”

Jesus said, “If? There are no ‘ifs’ among believers. Anything can happen.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the father cried, “Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!”

Seeing that the crowd was forming fast, Jesus gave the vile spirit its marching orders: “Dumb and deaf spirit, I command you—Out of him, and stay out!” Screaming, and with much thrashing about, it left. The boy was pale as a corpse, so people started saying, “He’s dead.” But Jesus, taking his hand, raised him. The boy stood up.

After arriving back home, his disciples cornered Jesus and asked, “Why couldn’t we throw the demon out?”

He answered, “There is no way to get rid of this kind of demon except by prayer.”

Leaving there, they went through Galilee. He didn’t want anyone to know their whereabouts, for he wanted to teach his disciples. He told them, “The Son of Man is about to be betrayed to some people who want nothing to do with God. They will murder him. Three days after his murder, he will rise, alive.” They didn’t know what he was talking about, but were afraid to ask him about it.

They came to Capernaum. When he was safe at home, he asked them, “What were you discussing on the road?”

The silence was deafening—they had been arguing with one another over who among them was greatest.

He sat down and summoned the Twelve. “So you want first place? Then take the last place. Be the servant of all.”

He put a child in the middle of the room. Then, cradling the little one in his arms, he said, “Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me, and far more than me—God who sent me.”

* * *

John spoke up, “Teacher, we saw a man using your name to expel demons and we stopped him because he wasn’t in our group.”

Jesus wasn’t pleased. “Don’t stop him. No one can use my name to do something good and powerful, and in the next breath slam me. If he’s not an enemy, he’s an ally. Why, anyone by just giving you a cup of water in my name is on our side. Count on it that God will notice.

“On the other hand, if you give one of these simple, childlike believers a hard time, bullying or taking advantage of their simple trust, you’ll soon wish you hadn’t. You’d be better off dropped in the middle of the lake with a millstone around your neck.

“If your hand or your foot gets in God’s way, chop it off and throw it away. You’re better off maimed or lame and alive than the proud owner of two hands and two feet, godless in a furnace of eternal fire. And if your eye distracts you from God, pull it out and throw it away. You’re better off one-eyed and alive than exercising your twenty-twenty vision from inside the fire of hell.

“Everyone’s going through a refining fire sooner or later, but you’ll be well-preserved, protected from the eternal flames. Be preservatives yourselves. Preserve the peace.”

The Book of Mark, Chapter 9 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments begins the ancient story of Job:

Once there was a man from Uz by the name of Job. He was a very good man—his character spotless, his integrity unquestioned. In fact, he so believed in God that he sought to honor Him in all things. He deliberately avoided evil in all of his affairs. He had 7 sons and 3 daughters; he owned 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 teams of oxen, 500 female donkeys, and a large number of servants. Among Easterners, he was the most powerful and influential man. His sons, who were all wealthy landowners, too, all used to gather together on each others’ birthdays and special occasions. The brothers would take turns hosting the others in their homes, and they would invite their three sisters to eat and drink with them. When these days of feasting were through, Job would call all of his family to his own house and purify them, rising up early in the morning to offer burnt sacrifices for each one.

Job: God, forgive my children for any secret sins or grudges they have against You deep in their hearts.

Job did this again and again.

Now one day, it came time for the sons of God, God’s heavenly messengers, to present themselves to the Eternal One to give reports and receive instructions. The Accuser was with them there.

Eternal One (to the Accuser): Where have you been?

The Accuser: Oh, roaming here and there, running about the earth and observing its inhabitants.

Eternal One: Well, have you looked into the man, Job, My servant? He is unlike any other person on the whole earth—a very good man—his character spotless, his integrity unquestioned. In fact, he so believes in Me that he seeks, in all things, to honor Me and deliberately avoids evil in all of his affairs.

The Accuser: I won’t argue with You that he is pious, but is all of this believing in You and honoring You for no reason? Haven’t You encircled him with Your very own protection, and not only him but his entire household and all that he has? Not only this, but Your blessing accompanies whatever his hand touches, and see how his possessions have grown. It is easy to be so pious in the face of such prosperity. So now extend Your hand! Destroy all of these possessions of his, and he will certainly curse You, right to Your face.

Eternal One: I delegate this task to you. His possessions are now in your hand. One thing, though: you are not to lay a finger on the man himself. Job must not be touched.

With that, the Accuser left the court and the Eternal’s presence.

Now one day, all of Job’s children were gathered together under the roof of Job’s firstborn for their usual celebration—feasting and drinking wine—when a messenger came to Job.

Messenger: We were in the field. The oxen were plowing, the donkeys were grazing nearby, and out of nowhere, the Sabeans attacked. They stole your animals, all 1,000 oxen and donkeys, and as for your servants, they put their swords to us, and everyone is dead—every last one, except me. I am the only one who got away from the fields to tell you.

And while the words were still leaving the messenger’s mouth, another messenger arrived.

Second Messenger: Lightning has struck! The fire of God fell from the sky and burned the 7,000 sheep alive . . . alive! Shepherds, too—all of them burned; everyone is dead—every last one, except me. I am the only one who got away from the pastures to tell you.

And while the words were still leaving that messenger’s mouth, a third messenger arrived.

Third Messenger: Chaldeans! Three groups of them attacked us. They converged on the camels and stole your 3,000 animals, and as for your servants, they put their swords to us, and everyone is dead—every last one, except me. I am the only one who got away to tell you.

And while the words were still leaving that messenger’s mouth, yet a fourth messenger arrived.

Fourth Messenger: All of your children were gathered together today under the roof of your firstborn to celebrate—eating a feast and drinking wine—and then a powerful wind rose up from the other side of the desert, and it struck all four corners of the house. It collapsed! Everyone is dead—all of those young people—every last one, except me. I am the only one who got away from your son’s house to tell you.

Then Job stood up, tore his robe, shaved his head, and fell to the ground. Face down, Job sprawled in the dirt to worship.

Job: I was naked, with nothing, when I came from my mother’s womb;

and naked, with nothing, I will return to the earth.

The Eternal has given, and He has taken away.

May the name of the Eternal One be blessed.

In all of this Job neither sinned nor did he make foolish charges against God.

The Book of Job, Chapter 1 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, April 8 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons that takes a look into the heart:

Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl wrote, "No man should judge unless he asks himself in absolute honesty whether in a similar situation he might not have done the same" (Man’s Search for Meaning, 1946). There is a "shadow" or darker side to ourselves that we normally keep hidden from view, even from ourselves. Yeshua said "out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander, and these are what defile a person" (Matt. 15:19-20). If you were given a magic ring which when placed on your finger made you invisible, would your behavior change? Would you be completely moral if you were entirely sure that you wouldn't be held accountable? Why is it difficult to understand our true motives and to "own" the darker impulses that sometimes rise within us? Each of us can act like a petty Pharaoh, and - dare I say it - even like a cruel Nazi at times, blaming others to pardon our own evil ways... When we come to the light to confess the truth, we become more aware of what we really need, and we can then ask God for healing; we then can forgive ourselves and begin to "lift off" our stuff from others.

"The heart is deceitful above all things, and incurably sick - mi yadeinu? - who can understand it?" (Jer. 17:9). But how is the heart sick? By seeking excuses to evade the truth of its great need; by denying its own inner poverty... "No person is saved except by grace, yes; but there is one sin that makes grace impossible, and that is dishonesty; and there is one thing God must unconditionally require, and that is honesty" (Kierkegaard: Journals).

Julian of Norwich said, “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well,” and yet the darkest pitch of depression is precisely the inability to take hold of such hope... Faith in the midst of darkness must yet affirm that despite own sin, our own wretchedness, nothing will hinder nor overcome the working of God's goodness...[Hebrew for Christians]

4.8.21 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

April 8, 2021

The Living Word

“And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

This is the great verse of the Incarnation, declaring to us that the Creator of all things, the eternal Word of God (John 1:1-3) actually became a man, being “made flesh” (our text). Since this verse and the following verses unequivocally refer to “Jesus Christ” (v. 17), there is no legitimate escape (though many have tried) from the great truth that the man called Jesus of Nazareth was the great God and Creator, as well as perfect man and redeeming Savior. Furthermore, He has assumed human flesh forever, while still remaining fully God. He is Immanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23).

He is not part man and part God, or sometimes man and sometimes God, but is now the God-man, fully and eternally true God and perfect man—man as God created and intended man to be. See also Philippians 2:5-8 and 1 John 4:2-3.

When He first became man, He “dwelt among us” for a while. The word “dwelt,” however, is actually the Greek word for “tabernacled.” As in the tabernacle (or “tent”) prepared by Moses (Exodus 40:33) in the wilderness, the glory of God in Christ dwelled on Earth for a time in a “body” prepared by God (Hebrews 10:5). We also “beheld his glory,” says His beloved disciple, John. The Greek word for “tabernacle” (skene) is a cognate word to shakan (the Hebrew word for “dwell”), both being related to what has come to be known as the Shekinah glory cloud that filled the ancient tabernacle (Exodus 40:34).

Eventually, when the Holy City descends out of heaven to the new earth, then “the tabernacle of God” will forever be “with men,” and He will “dwell with them” and “be their God” eternally (Revelation 21:3). Thus, God’s “Living Word” is now and always our living Lord! HMM

[aoibaratraveler]

UK Road Trip Week 6.... plus the final two days! (first two days of week 7)

Day 36:

We drove from Inverness to Fort William today. The road there was gorgeous with lots of lochs, valleys, and mountains. I mean, it’s nothing we hadn’t seen before on the NC 500, but I do feel bad about not filming it. I was just so focused on admiring it myself. I do need to get the hang of filming more of the amazing sights I see if I want to start a youtube channel at some point though. I did film a herd of sheep with their shepherd so that was cool. Shortly after that, we saw a fenced-off area full of male and female deer. We think they’re being protected. The antlers of a stag are just so beautiful. Whenever I see a stag I think of Harry Potter or Princess Mononoke because they look so magical. Once we got to Fort William, we drove through the city centre and came to the decision that we’d be hiking Ben Nevis the following day. We grabbed lunch at Aldi and then drove to Glenfinnan which is just the next town over and home to the Glenfinnan viaduct where the Hogwarts Express famously goes over in the HP movies. We explored Glenfinnan station and I bought a postcard to add to my postcard collection of all of the cool places that I’ve been to. Later on, we walked down to the viaduct for photos. It was pretty interesting and not as crowded as I thought and I pictured the Hogwarts express going over. Luckily we parked near Glenfinnan station and were actually able to watch the train go on the tracks near there and through the valley. Afterward, we drove back to Fort William and had a bite at the Costa and tried to watch the fourth Harry Potter movie, but couldn’t get through it, I had just read the books so I was too confused by how much they skipped and it was hard to watch. We ended the night with the usual, by finding a layby and pitching up.

Day 37:

We hiked Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in Scotland and the British Isles! I’m glad we managed to in the end. We were both somewhat apprehensive about it because we were so tired and weren’t sure if the weather would stay decent enough for it. We took our time getting ready which isn’t smart when you’re going on a long hike but what can you do when you’re tired. We wanted to make sure we’d had our coffee this time. We finally set off at 10:36 on the hike. It actually took us about the same time to hike it as it did for Snowdon even though Ben Nevis is 260m taller but that’s because we didn’t have to walk through as many valleys and ridges with Ben Nevis as we did with Snowdon. It was a bit steeper though, but we didn’t have to scramble up anywhere like Snowdon either. The bf tells me that I shouldn’t compare the mountains because they’re different but I can’t help it because I’ve never done hikes before like this and none that were more than a couple of hours at most. It certainly wasn’t as crowded at the Ben Nevis summit. But you still had the inconsiderate fools smoking there and during the hike which made it harder for people like me who have sinus/breathing issues to breathe after a strenuous hike. It was honestly pretty upsetting that there was such a large amount of people smoking everywhere on the trail. Then we also had two young girls playing music loudly on speakers that were inside their bag and then the foolish tourists wearing the most inappropriate clothing for a hike (dresses, fancy sandals, jewelry, flats, jeans.etc). Ugh, I sound bitter, I’m not. Really. I should know that with a tourist mountain like this one, unfortunately, that there are gonna be fools. Overall, even though the weather wasn’t as great as when we did Snowdon, I really enjoyed it and I’m proud to say that I did it. It reaffirmed my wish to try and hike many more mountains and definitely a bunch when I get to Japan; especially Mt. Fuji. The bf and I even met some older men on the trail that had just come back from hiking Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. We were pretty impressed since they said they did it twice. The bf and I would definitely like to hike that too someday. I mean he’s already done it, (he’s done many hikes, I’m pretty jealous) but he said he’d do it again with me. At another point on the trail, we met someone doing the 24-hour peak to peak challenge where one tries to hike Snowdon, Scafell Pike, and Ben Nevis in 24 hours…I couldn’t do that…I wouldn’t want to do that, I mean kudos to him but why would I want to kill my legs like that for no reason. I do love hikes and I feel so good after a hike, exhausted, but overall good, you know? If I did something like that without rest though…I feel like I’d be bedridden for at least a week afterward. I’d rather enjoy myself and the wilderness and just accomplish major hikes like that one at a time with lots of rest in between. My goal is to start doing nice long hikes/walks in the lake or peak district every other or every weekend before I leave the UK. Our knees were destroyed by the time we got down from Ben Nevis so I definitely need to buy knee braces before my next big hike. We ended the day by watching the Liverpool game and taking it easy.

Day 38:

Today we rode the Hogwarts Express! Aka the Jacobite and well not the exact model apparently but similar and..actually kind of a waste of money, but I’ll get to that in a bit. I woke up at 6:30 am and I was super excited about what lay ahead, but I also woke up so early because I was restless all night and awake until 2 am. It was the first hot night we’d experienced in a while and I just felt hot and dry all night and not to mention sore and in pain in my legs/knees from the Ben Nevis hike. Eventually, the bf woke up and we drove to Fort William station to get ready for the train ride. What struck me as disappointing right away is that it looked nothing like the Hogwarts Express from the inside unless you were to be seated in first class where they actually do have private carriages. The rest though just looks like a regular, old, worn (emphasis on old and worn) train. You’d think from the amount that it costs that they’d be able to afford to do some upkeep on it but nope. It is purely a cash grab that sets you back 40 pounds. It was a complete tourist trap. There were so many loud tourists, it was so crowded and people kept constantly trying to hog the window space for stunning views outside. Yes, the views were lovely, but it’s really hard to enjoy them from how loud and stuffy it was in there (since it clearly is an old train, no air conditioner). You could tell that half the people on there weren’t even fans or there for the views (which you could have gotten for much cheaper on a regular Scotrail train I bet), but just to say that they’d ridden it which was a bit annoying. There were people sleeping and elderly/middle-aged people drinking or taking selfies and I just kept asking myself what they were doing there. Curiously though, there were hardly any people from our age group, you know the people that grew up with the fandom, books, movies, etc. It was just a really disappointing experience since I had been looking forward to doing this ever since I arrived in the UK so I’m sorry, I know I sound bitter and annoyed. I’ve ridden much nicer, quieter, scenic and less expensive trains in Japan and have gone to the wizarding world of Harry Potter at Universal Studios there which I think is a much better use of my money and had a great time. I shouldn’t really compare though but it’s a shame because I honestly don’t think it was worth our time or money. They even got the HP story wrong in the 1 pound tour guide book that we bought! 

We would have been much better off just finding a good spot and filming the train from there which we kinda did but a shot over the Glenfinnan viaduct would have been the perfect shot and the only thing worth doing unfortunately but I’m glad I know I suppose although I guess I should have done my research on the train journey before buying a ticket. Once we got back to Fort William on the train’s return leg from Mallaig, we hopped in the car and decided to drive South toward loch Lomond. The drive there was excellent. We drove through valleys and mountains and that paired with the good weather made me feel better about the lousy train trip. I definitely want to invest in a proper camera for my next travels because so far I have just been using my phone and I’m running out of space for photos and videos so I’m forced to have to use my phone camera very wisely for the next 5 days so as to not run out of space before the trip is over. When we arrived in loch Lomond, we found the perfect layby, made some noodles and just chilled for the rest of the night. 

Day 39:

It’s great waking up knowing that you’re going to have a scenic drive, that’s why I love staying overnight in a national park or AONB, it’s just a lovely thing to wake up to. The plan today was just to drive from loch Lomond through Cairngorms national park and finally to Aberdeen. We decided to cut out Cairngorms for today because we figured that take too long and just save it for tomorrow. We were both really hungry so we decided to stop at a cafe called “Skoosh” along our drive in the loch Lomond national park. We both decided to get full Scottish breakfasts. We were able to choose from a list of breakfast items. I chose everything that wasn’t pork essentially while the bf chose a typical breakfast with sausage, bacon, fried egg, etc. I did also imply to the waitress that I couldn’t eat pork by asking if something that I ordered contained any and then ordering it when she said it didn’t. Unfortunately, when our order arrived, both our plates had bacon. I really enjoy ordering full breakfasts (of the veggie variety but with haggis when I’m in Scotland since the only thing I can’t eat is pork) so it was a shame that I couldn’t eat half my plate because the bacon/bacon grease was touching/mixed up with the other stuff. I didn’t complain but in retrospect, I should have said something. I just gave more than half my plate to the bf to eat and tried to eat the rest myself but felt physically ill at the thought that what I ate may have touched the bacon grease on the plate. It’s more of a psychological thing, but I felt uncomfortable and couldn’t enjoy anything else. I hate food going to waste too; I couldn’t eat my mushrooms and tomatoes because they were with the bacon and the bf didn’t want them either because he doesn’t like them in a restaurant/cafe fry up. When the waitress came to collect the plates I told her what happened and why I had left items on my plate. She apologized and then we could hear her telling the cook what we said. It was a small cafe so the cook herself came to give us the machine when we went up to pay. She half-heartedly apologized and said she must have gone into “overdrive” while cooking. I didn’t really get this because the bf and I had ordered a good 10 minutes before any other customers came in and we were the only ones in the shop at the time so it’s not like she was busy but it’s whatever, it’s my fault for not bringing it up right away. I suppose I would have just liked her to show a bit more empathy. We drove straight to Aberdeen after that. We weren’t really in the mood to sightsee and just wanted to find a place to shower and chill. After a bit of searching online, the bf found a park and ride just 5 miles out that apparently had showers. When we got there we saw that the place was huge and so oddly clean. I looked it up properly and apparently, it was built in 2017 by the city council to help combat congestion and has 1000 spaces, but unfortunately, it’s not popular for whatever reason which is a shame. It is only used by seven people a day! It had free 36-hour parking, the building itself has a big waiting room, two big washrooms for men and women with a shower stall in each and the place is spotless. It is supposed to have free wifi and hot water but since it is hardly used the council stopped providing these things. We were the only ones there so we decided to spend the next several hours chilling there and have a shower (seriously, no one else came in except for one bus driver at the end of the night for the toilet). We made dinner and it was nice to have a big, quiet space to ourselves that wasn’t the car for a while. It sounds bizarre to hang out in a park and ride, I know, but if you come here then you’ll understand what I mean. It had a soothing atmosphere to it after spending so long in the car. It was like going to a campsite and you were the only ones with access to the facilities. Later on, the bf even gave me some driving lessons in the huge car park. I have my full license in driving automatic vehicles but I have only once before had a go at driving a standard vehicle and that was also with the bf, in 2017 when I studied abroad here during my degree. Driving a standard vehicle is a lot harder then I give the bf credit for and it was pretty nerve-wracking to think about when to use each gear and the clutch but it was still a lot of fun to be back behind the wheel since I haven’t driven since I left Canada. I definitely have more respect for the bf now when he drives especially on long trips like this one or when he’s on the road with awful drivers and is always able to keep his cool–well, for the most part (mild road rage). I can’t wait for my next lesson though, I’d like to become as good at driving standard as I am with automatic and besides I just enjoy driving and don’t want to get out of practice. It wasn’t until nearly 1 am that we decided to call it a night and pitch up at a nearby country park.

Day 40:

Today was essentially a transit day to get back down to England and continue from Carlisle for the final 3 days of our road tour. The drive was about 5 hours long. Honestly, I was exhausted the whole time. My legs are still sore and swollen and I even fell asleep for an hour. I still enjoyed some of the mountainous views of Scotland and I felt a bit sad to be leaving. Scotland has had the most beautiful scenery in the UK and just all of Scotland in general, particularly the highlands is just my favourite place by far to explore in the UK. Once we got to Carlisle, we wandered around the city for an hour and a half to stretch our legs and to play pokemon go. Later on, on our way to finding a layby in the North Pennines AONB to pitch up, we stopped to try and help a mother and daughter jump-start the battery of their car. They had parked it in Tesco’s for two weeks (the mom works there) while they were in France on holiday and the battery had gone completely flat because the daughter forgot to turn the lights off. The mother seemed to be a French national and was really funny and friendly and interested in our travels. She reminded me a lot of what my mom can be like. After that, we made our way to the North Pennines and just before parking up we came across a sign that said:e “Castle Carrock, please dance”. We had to do a double-take when we saw it - literally, the bf applied the brakes and reversed back to be sure he read the sign properly (it was late at night on a country road, so no risk of a car being behind him!).

Day 41:

Today was meant to be the day that we try and see, again, if we could hike Scafell Pike. Sadly, the bf and I were still sore from Ben Nevis because all we’ve done since is pretty much just sit in a car which has also led to our ankles and legs being very swollen; we haven’t really done ourselves any favours really. Although we managed to hike the tallest peaks in both Wales and Scotland, it seems that Scafell Pike, which is shorter than both at 978 meters (Snowdon is 1085 m and Ben Nevis is 1345 m), is also considered to be the toughest owing to it being incredibly steep in some parts. So…we’ll just save it for a little later on after we’ve recuperated from this trip. Besides, it rained today anyway and I prefer dry weather on hikes. Instead, we chose to go national park/AONB hoping to ultimately end up in Whitby. We started off by driving through the North Pennines AONB. Honestly, I must be out of steam because not even 30 mins into this first AONB and I fell asleep for almost an hour. I felt bad for the bf because he does all the driving and it really isn’t fair to him. We’d gone through all the rolling hills of the North Pennines and stopped for coffee at Starbucks and I finally convinced the bf to get a Starbucks card since he buys coffee there at least once a day. We then set off to continue through the Yorkshire Dales National Park then the Nidderdale AONB and finally through the North York Moors National Park before arriving in Whitby. The scenery of the National Parks/AONBs was very similar especially since it was raining and foggy. Lovely, huge, rolling hills, lots of sheep messing about; the usual, but still great and worth a visit again in good weather. I’ve probably seen more sheep on this trip than I have seen, or any other animal for that matter, in my life. Once we arrived in Whitby, I decided that the first order of business was to get some fish and chips. I found a well-rated and cheap one online called Silver Street Fisheries. The customer service there was amazing, probably the best I’ve experienced in the UK and certainly the best fish and chips I’ve had here too. I mentioned to the woman behind the counter that I’d never had mushy peas before and wanted to try them and then she said that people here either love them or hate them and so she scooped some up in a cup for me to sample them. I didn’t absolutely hate it but it wasn’t something that I wanted to pay for either so I passed on that but she also gave me a sample of curry sauce and gravy to try which I much preferred and she said I could keep the samples (they were really big samples to be fair). The fish and chips themselves were so crispy and delicious. The batter on the fish was amazing and not doughy at all. The cod that I got was also full of flavour. I learned during this experience that I like vinegar on chips and regret not having put it on my fish (I realized this after I finished my fish). As for the bf, he ordered a large sausage and chips with curry sauce. The sausage came battered which he didn’t ask for but doesn’t regret because he also really enjoyed how crispy the batter was. After our dinner, we walked it off by strolling through Whitby and trying to find the hotel where the bf’s grandmother used to work which is unfortunately now owned by Wetherspoons. After that, we climbed the 199 steps up to Whitby abbey and then set up there for a bit and watched the gorgeous sunset over the town. We had a lovely and somewhat romantic end to our day and I’m happy that I finally got to see Whitby, I really liked it there. I hope I’ll be able to go back there soon for some awesome fish and chips!

Day 42:

I awoke to find that we had pretty much pitched in the middle of nowhere. Technically, we’ve been doing that a lot by parking in national parks/AONBs overnight but even as I sat there waiting for the bf to wake up and then eventually falling back to sleep myself, hardly any cars passed when normally there would be a few cars every few minutes. We drove to a shopping park in York to freshen up and grab some coffee and then grabbed lunch at Aldi (it was pretty late by the time we left the place we had parked). We managed to park near the city centre of York and began ambling towards there while hunting pokemon and working on the Jirachi quest. Our main three goals for the day was to see the York shambles which was a spot highlighted on google maps that looked interesting, general exploration of York, and to try “Britain’s second-best burger” at a place called “Burgsy”. We arrived at the shambles first and right away (with the help of all the Harry Potter shops) we noticed that it was the filming location/inspiration for Diagon Alley in the HP movies! We, of course, explored all the HP shops, the bf and I talked about how we’d like to buy the series with the newly redone illustrations on the covers. I pined over the Hufflepuff letterman’s jacket (I’ve taken the Pottermore test twice, can’t remember why, but each time I got a different result, once my result was Hufflepuff and the other was Gryffindor) and a little figure of Hedwig in a birdcage that I’d love to have at my bedside table. We soon found that the shambles was too crowded with tourists for our liking so we escaped to Burgsy for some refuge and burgers. The bf and I ordered two burgers to cut in half and share. Now, they were super delicious, yes, with great sauce and delicious patties, but the bun was mediocre and I don’t think the overall burger should be qualified of the “Britain’s second-best” title (a quick google search is what told us this). I did still enjoy them but they were rather expensive and I’ve had better burgers made at home by the bf so I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to go there again. Afterward, we wombled about and played pokemon go. My adventure sync doesn’t work while the bf’s does so he was able to easily complete the mission of walking to evolve Feebas during the Ben Nevis hike while I can only walk my buddy/hatch eggs when the app is open so that’s annoying and what I was trying to do during our stroll through the city. We later decided we were craving some Five Guys fries so we went to go get some. I wasn’t really paying attention when our order was given out but when a number was called out, the bf seemed so sure of himself and grabbed the bag and then proceeded to grab some mayo but I thought I saw something that said relish on the sheet of paper attached to the bag so I was confused but just trusted that the bf had grabbed the right bag and then took a fry out to eat it….but he hadn’t grabbed the right bag…when we sat down, we looked inside and realized this wasn’t our order because there was a burger and when looking at our receipt we saw that we were order 41, not 43 which was the number on the receipt attached to the bag that we were given. I felt so guilty for not saying anything when I was confused earlier so I rushed back to the counter with the bag to apologize and give back the order we took while getting our correct one. The employee asked if I touched it and I said no…I lied but I only took one fry out, that’s not the end of the world, you could see that we clearly hadn’t opened the burger wrapping so he could have just taken out the fries if need be and, I don’t know, eaten them himself or something (I’ve worked in fast food, it happens) and then put in new ones. He seemed like he was going to accept the bag but another employee immediately took them from him and gave it back to me, asking me to throw it away…I suppose because of food safety and they couldn’t be sure how much we had actually touched but I’m sorry I’m not going to just waste food like that and I felt bad but we took it for ourselves and had much more fries than we had bargained for. We ate it outside and watched as crowds lined up for an apparent ghost tour of of the city. We ended the night by venturing over to the peak district to pitch up.

Week 7

Day 43:

Today was the unofficial last day of the trip and I say unofficial because we plan to be on the road tomorrow. I’d been wanting to check out the peak district for a while and here I was waking up in it. I’ve heard lots of people talking about it all year so I wanted to go for a walk in it but we were both very tired so I settled for a short but steep one in Bamford, up Bamford hill. There’s a spot at the top called Bamford edge that’s a rocky platform that is popular to take photos on. It was a nice little walk especially because no one else was around but it was terribly windy so we didn’t stay up there long after taking photos. From there, we drove to Sheffield to spend a few hours walking around the city, grabbing a coffee (mine was really bitter, very few Starbucks in the UK seem to be able to make an americano properly), and check out a popular park for playing pokemon go. Sheffield was very much an industrial city…with interesting people. It was definitely full of characters. It also felt like Sheffield never left the 90′s in the sense that no one seemed to have any sense of style/very out there kind of style/no one cared about their style. Now don’t get me wrong, I love 90′s grunge and was a fan of how Rachel, Pheobe, and Monica from Friends dressed, but for me, the 90s felt like a time when no one cared about their style…either that or the early naughties. Once we were done in Sheffield we made instant noodles for lunch and went to our final sightseeing stop which was Sherwood forest, just outside Nottingham, and the place where the legend of Robin Hood started. We were honestly so drained and tired by this point, we could really feel that it was the last day so we just had a lazy walk around the forest and completed a couple of missions on pokemon go. It was a pretty good day to call our last day. At around 6, we decided it was a good time to head down to the North Wessex Downs to find a place to park up for the last time since we had plans to see the bf’s friend in Reading the next day.

Day 44:

Well, today was…something. I’m writing this five days in the future owing to the stressful time we had on the last day of our trip. The day was meant to go smoothly as all days should really, no one plans for accidents to happen, they just do. That’s why they’re called accidents. We got up, went to a services area to freshen up and met with the bf’s friend from university who currently lives in Reading. We stayed there for a couple of hours and had a nice time. His friend is really nice and loves animals which makes him a stand-up guy. He also had a big, funny, orange, cross-eyed half Maine Coon cat that I got to play with. From there we finally made the journey home. It wasn’t too long of a trip and when we were about 30 minutes away we stopped for a snack at Lidl. We weren’t even five minutes into the drive from Lidl when we got into a car accident. Yup. What a way to end a road trip, am I right?…..Yea, well it’s been tough dealing with the aftermath of that. I truly don’t believe the bf is at fault but it was our car that crashed into another one. I was on my phone up until the last few seconds so I’m not sure of what exactly happened but traffic is being diverted onto a smaller much narrow road owing to road works and as you go onto that small road there are traffic lights which we stopped at and then five seconds after there is a give way area and I’m sure the bf noticed and only looked away for a second but all of the sudden the car in front stopped and the bf was quick to press on the brakes with enough time but (maybe because the tires were worn from our long time on the road) the car just slid and crashed into the car in front. We were so shaken up and in disbelief at what just happened that it didn’t help that the guy we hit came out and yelled at us and berated the bf and was just a complete chav…..well long story short, the car is a write-off and the bf is currently trying to find a new one while we stay with his grandparents. It was such a freak thing to happen and unbelievable because we spent so long on the road and this happened only 15 minutes before reaching home but they do say that accidents always happen close to home, right?

[paharvey99]

No Waitrose October 4

Day 22

Before we start, there was a thing I meant to say yesterday but I forgot, so here it is:

“When we left the flat in the morning, I left with my daughter ahead of the person I live with, who stayed behind to wash her face or something. This meant I was standing outside the flat in the street for a few minutes. My hand automatically went to my pocket to check my phone, but I stopped myself, as I am trying to be on my phone less. So I just kind of wandered about aimlessly, not really doing anything.

“A woman was out walking her dog, and as she walked past us, she stopped, looked at me and asked “Are you lost?” I laughed and started to explain that I wasn’t, but she immediately realised I wasn’t lost and got a bit embarrassed. It made me realise how unnerving people find it if you don’t look like you have a sense of purpose. I don’t think she would have stopped to check I was ok if I’d been looking at my phone. I intend to investigate this phenomenon further.”

That was worth the wait, wasn’t it?

Today (we are starting Day 22 now, don’t worry) the person I live with had some work to do for work, so I took my daughter out in the morning so she could have a bit of peace and quiet. We went to the park first of all, where we went on the swings. The swings are the only thing in the park that she can do properly at the moment, but she loves them, so we had a good long swing and then carried on into town. On the way she fell asleep, which was the plan, so I wandered around looking in shop windows as she slept.

When she woke up, I took her to the ice cream parlour Scoop and Crumb as I have become obsessed by their milkshakes. I ordered a chocolate milkshake and we went upstairs and got a table. The milkshakes in Scoop and Crumb are proper ice cream milkshakes in huge glasses with sauce and sprinkles and cream on the top. They’re outrageous. I love them. As does my daughter, it emerged to no great surprise. I gave her a few mouthfuls of cream and milkshake and she loved it. She got it all over herself though.

We walked home along the front and then nipped into Sainsbury’s Local to buy some food for lunch and tea. We then almost immediately left Sainsbury’s Local thanks to a lack of food I wanted to buy, and went across the road to Tesco Extra, where they have a better selection. It’s weird; I’d take Sainsbury’s over Tesco any day of the week if it was a large store, but when it comes to the express versions it’s got to be Tesco.

I bought some smoked haddock for lunch and some mince for tea, as well as some other bits and bobs. When we got home, the person I live with immediately noticed that our daughter was covered in chocolate, so I had to admit that we’d been for a milkshake. This did not come as a surprise, as I’m always talking about going for milkshake.

It was lunchtime, so I made smoked haddock and cheese and peas and pasta for the three of us, which went down very well. We had a bit of a play after lunch, and then the person I live with said she had more work to do, so I took our daughter out for the afternoon as well.

I decided that we’d go somewhere in the car in the afternoon, as I was a bit knackered, so that was the easier option. I set off with a vague plan of heading east along the A27 and hoping my daughter fell asleep, which she did almost immediately. It was a lovely sunny autumn day and I was listening to the new Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile album, which is quite good. I was still trying to think of where to go though, until I remembered about my book of small churches.

About a year ago I bought a book called England’s Smallest Churches, which is a guide to the smallest churches in each county in England. The only criteria for getting in the book is that the churches should be small, rather than of any particular architectural or historical interest. It’s my kind of book. I’ve been trying to visit some of the small churches ever since, but I haven’t actually visited any of them yet, which is not very impressive. I have made at least four unsuccessful attempts to visit the church in Tickencote in Rutland, but events keep conspiring against me.

Anyway, I remembered that one of the small churches is near Alfriston, which was in the direction I was heading, so I decided to go to Alfriston and then google where the small church was and go and visit it. I arrived in Alfriston and parked up, and my daughter was still asleep, so I decided to wait until she woke up. A man came and knocked on the window and gave us his parking ticket, which was very nice, and she slept through that. I decided to google the church, but it turned out I had no reception, so I couldn’t find out where the church was. The Courtney Barnett/Kurt Vile album got to the end and began playing again. Still my daughter slept.

It was getting on a bit now, and I realised I didn’t know where the small church was and that even if I did I probably wouldn’t have time to walk to it and visit it and still get back in time for tea, so I decided to head back home, once again thwarted in my efforts to visit a small church.

On the way back, we came to a sign for Middle Farm, which is a farm on the A27 with a farm shop and animals to look at and a park and a gift shop and a café. That kind of farm. It’s a nice place to stop, so we stopped and my daughter slept for another 10 minutes in the car park and then eventually woke up. I put her in the sling and paid £5 for us to go into the bit of the farm where you can see the animals.

I was quite excited, because it was the first time she had been on a farm and seen farm animals in real life and I was looking forward to mooing and baaing and oinking and so forth. However, it quickly became apparent that my daughter hated the farm. She cried at all of the animals; cows, pigs, sheep, horses, ducks, donkeys, goats, rabbits, chickens – you name it, she hated it. At first I thought something was wrong, as she never moans about anything. There was a park, so we went on a swing for 10 minutes and she was perfectly happy. But back in the sling and looking at furry things, she was furious again.

I felt bad for frightening my daughter with these horrific beasts, so we bid a hasty retreat and went to the farm shop, which was much safer territory for both of us. I bought some fancy apple juice and we drove home.

Back at home it was my daughter’s teatime, bathtime, storytime and bedtime, and then I made shepherds pie for the non-babies in the flat. After tea we watched a documentary from the BBC archive about John Betjeman’s favourite churches in the diocese of Norwich, and he didn’t seem to have any trouble visiting the churches. That’s probably why he was Poet Laureate and I’m not.

Incidentally, it turns out that the church I was attempting to visit near Alfriston is in a village called Lullington. It is the smallest church in Sussex and is the subject of a b-side by the band British Sea Power called The Smallest Church In Sussex. I’ll get there one of these days.

Didn’t go to Waitrose.