#it's about the current global situation

[elizabethrobertajones]

I stan Alphy's character development. Me too, lil buddy.

[rawbones]

tw american politics and i wish i could say i'm still having trouble grasping how the harris campaign failed so catastrophically but i've had no issues thus far just because i expect less than nothing from the democratic party. if there's a way to fumble they'll definitely find it and revel in it gleefully and almost spitefully until they reach an undesired outcome (losing), at which point it's everyone else's fault for not supporting them enough. or something

[strawberista]

What tarot card are you?

The Devil Restriction is not so terrible a thing as you think it is. One must not always be shackled to be prudent. You could use a set of handcuffs in your life, my love. Shall I forge them for you? We could be tied together, you and I. Maybe then you would not want for so many things. Maybe if you were drip fed what you wanted, you would only focus on the next drip, instead of the wide world of things there are to want. You consume what you love, you terrify the things you want. You have chewed your way through your life and you are still hungry. The old woman holds out a key. The iron around your wrist is so very heavy.

[islamqazal]

Hello, my name is Mohammed Nihad Ghazal from North Gaza. I have ambitions, dreams and a love for life like any young man in the world. I am supporting my family of 15 after my father was martyred in the cursed war that destroyed everything, but it seems that I will not be able to achieve my dream because of the brutal war on the Gaza Strip, which completely destroyed our home, and despite the harsh war, we did not leave North Gaza under inhumane conditions. We have suffered from illness, cold, hunger and drinking polluted water for more than 11 months, which we have suffered greatly from the loss of friends and relatives who were killed in the war for 330 days. I am appealing to you, the global community, for help. I have started a GoFundMe campaign with the goal of raising $20,000 to enable me and my family to find safety in Egypt. Evacuation fees change from time to time; we currently expect a cost of between $4,000 and $5,000 per person. Any additional funds generated will go to support my immediate needs and those of my family. There are many obstacles that we will face on the other side, and I hope that we can make things a little easier for us. I would like to share with you the situation now that the war has intensified. We are fine and safe, but life has become very difficult now around us, and people are suffering more and losing their loved ones every day. As a family, we have literally lost everything we own, our homes, ourhttps://gofund.me/f3e7e3c2 Hey there! I’m reaching out because my family and I are in a really tough spot, and any contribution you can make towards our evacuation from Gaza would mean the world to us—each donation brings us closer to safety and a fresh start. If you could click the link below to help or share it with others who might want to support us, it would make such a difference in our lives. Thank you for being so compassionate during this challenging time!

businesses, and we lost the dearest thing to us, my father, but we are trying to stay optimistic by thinking about evacuating and we heard good news today that the borders may open soon. We pray that this is true. Once we are evacuated, we will try hard to rebuild a small part of what we lost in Gaza. If we can achieve our ultimate goal, we will have the money to start a business to support our entire family. We want to be able to start over and not suffer anymore in Egypt. If everyone can help us with a small donation to achieve our ultimate goal, we will be able to rebuild our lives after everything was destroyed. All the positive words cannot express how generous you are in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza. Please continue to support the just cause in the world either by donating directly or by sharing the link to other media. Do not hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over.

https://gofund.me/f3e7e3c2 Hey there! I’m reaching out because my family and I are in a really tough spot, and any contribution you can make towards our evacuation from Gaza would mean the world to us—each donation brings us closer to safety and a fresh start. If you could click the link below to help or share it with others who might want to support us, it would make such a difference in our lives. Thank you for being so compassionate during this challenging time!

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part five)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: the wait is over. yay! This isn’t how I expected this part to end but I let my mind take charge…plans change. I hope the end is okay, i’ve never written anything like that before so i’m a little nervy for y’alls reactions lol. let me know what you guys think! Enjoy <3

part five: new york changes you

The whole ‘friends for now’ deal you set with Hugh has been an enthralling experience so far. A month has passed since that night in your living room, a month of struggling to resist the charisma of Hugh Jackman. Right now, your two lives couldn’t be more different: your album had dropped three weeks ago, one week after the deal was made. It has been an absolute success with four of your songs sitting in the top ten since the drop. You were doing interview after interview and rehearsals for your tour started up this past week. Meanwhile, Hugh was living the simple life. He has been done with his Deadpool and Wolverine promo for some time now and he’s been enjoying his free time. That was something you didn’t have much of as of recent- free time. You were trying to balance the few moments of freedom between all of the people you cared for, which mostly consisted of Ashley and Hugh. It’s gotten to a point where you were inviting your friends to the tour rehearsals just to be able to see them. When the idea first popped up, you had been afraid that they would be too distracting but the outcome was the opposite. Having a mini audience that weren’t part of the tour team, allowed everyone to make changes to things with the input of outside opinions. Ashley and a small group of your other friends were rehearsal regulars now.

You’d been seeing Hugh more privately, both of you agreeing to stay out of the public eye for a little bit while the dating rumors died down. Ashley had been a little too enthusiastic about your decision to be Hugh’s friend and nothing more. You loved reminding her that it was hopefully a temporary situation while we decided if being together exclusively was the right choice for both of us. She liked to ignore that part. Her despisement towards Hugh has been a mystery to you. She was always a little protective over you, as any normal friend would be, but it had never been to this extent. 

“Ash, do you wanna come to rehearsal tomorrow. We’re finally putting the choreography on the actual stage. I think you’ll like it. It’s gonna be fun.” You ask. The two of you were currently at Target shopping for her new apartment. “Uhhh of course. I need to catch up on all of the songs I missed. Then maybe you’ll consider putting me up on stage.” The last sentence comes out more singsongy than usual as she tries to convince you. She has brought up being on stage so often, you were beginning to feel bad, but she was a shit dancer. You didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Cool. I have to be there at seven, but I was thinking you guys could show up at noon. That’s when we’re scheduled to move over to the stage.” Her eyes light up. “Ooo. Who else is coming? Please tell me you invited Taylor again, she’s fun.” She rambles on as she pushes the cart through the lamp aisle. “Oh. I didn’t invite the girls again. It’s uh…it’s just gonna be you and Hugh.” She puts the lamp she’s been observing back onto the shelf. “Actually, I just remembered I have plans tomorrow.” She states flatley and starts to push the cart again. You follow her, waiting until you enter an aisle that was free of people before confronting her. “Ashley, don't be like that.” You whine. “I’m not being like anything y/n. I just forgot I had plans.” She shrugs as she busies herself by looking at the bathroom decor on the shelves. “What do you have against him?” You blurt out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Cut the shit Ash. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can’t even mention his name without you trying to change the subject. I can’t even talk to my best friend about the guy I like because of this weird fucking grudge you have against him.” She stares at you, giving you a few slow blinks before speaking again. “Fine. I’ll be there but I can’t promise I'll be civil.” 

You didn’t push her any further, her answer was good enough for now. Target wasn’t the right place to fight with her about this and it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. As much as you loved Ashley, she had a tendency to do and say wherever she pleased but when it came back to her, she played victim. It was becoming harder to deal with now that you weren’t children anymore. Later that night, while on facetime with Hugh, you decided to warn him about the shitshow which he was bound to end up in tomorrow.

“I’m not really sure what her deal is honestly. She won’t tell me why she doesn’t like you.” You pout. “It’s okay baby, not everyone is going to like me. I can handle it.” 

The endearments had been something that Hugh didn’t drop after the ‘just friends’ talk. You thought about talking to him about it but the words sounded too good rolling off of his tongue. You argued that it wasn’t any different than your other friends calling you ‘babe’- it wasn’t the same at all but you didn’t care. You knew it meant more to both of you. 

“I know, but it would be really nice if you two could be friends, ya know? She just gets too overprotective I guess…” You tell him, not really believing your own words. “You don’t have to come tomorrow if you don’t want to. We can pick another day for you to come if you feel like it’ll be too awkward.” “Tomorrow is fine y/n. Everything will be okay. Don’t think about it too much, I’m sure I can charm her a little bit, get her on my side.” He assures you.

Ashley was on her worst behavior and it was pissing you off. It felt like you had covered Hugh in blood and thrown him to the sharks- when you think about it, he probably would have had a better shot at fighting off the sharks. The entire day so far had been full of eye rolls and snarky comments. When you had a moment alone with Hugh, all you could do was apologize for her behavior and he swore it was fine, it wasn't your fault. Ashley was acting weird towards you the entire morning. When you offered her to get up and learn some choreo, she brushed you off saying that she still needed to wake up. You glanced over at Hugh and Ashley every few minutes as they talked. It looked civil. The music was too loud to hear what the conversation was about and it was making you nervous. Hugh kept his eyes mostly on you as he spoke but Ashley’s were set on Hugh, never looking your way. You tried your best to ignore it, focusing on doing your job.

 For one of the songs, you would be giving one of the dancers named Ethan a lap dance. He had become a good friend over the past year you had known him and he made the whole grinding on him thing a lot less awkward than you thought it would be. “Are you and eye candy over there still playing friends?” Ethan asks as he gestures towards where Hugh and Ashley sat. “Yes..but it’s more lenient. Kinda like dating but nothing exclusive.” You explain, eyes on Hugh. He’s looking back at you and you’re sure he can tell that you’re talking about him. “You should do the dance for him, since he’s a special guest today and all.” He offers, smirk present on his face. “You don’t think that would be too mean? I want him to want me but I don’t wanna ruin the man. At least not yet anyways.” A similar smirk to Ethan’s was rising to your lips at the thought of Hugh being flustered over you. “I think you should do it.” You think about it for a moment and shame yourself for how quickly you made your decision. “You’re a bad influence.” You tell Ethan. Hugh’s eyes are still on you and you point your finger at him and wiggle it, motioning him to come here. 

“I’m gonna go sit down, have fun.” Ethan says and goes down the stairs to the stage as Hugh walks up them. “What’s up sweetheart?” He asks. “Ethan isn’t feeling well right now, would you mind standing in for him? You don’t have to do anything, just sit in that chair.” You point to the metal fold up chair that sits in the center of the catwalk. “Yea I can do that.” His smile is authentic, happy to help. “Thank you baby.” You say and you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. You pick up the mic that you sat on the stage floor earlier and turn it on. “We’re ready to go for the next one.” You announce through it so the sound crew could hear you. They announce ‘places’ and Hugh sits down in the chair. You walk over to the marker on the floor that indicates your starting position for this song. It’s about five feet behind Hugh’s chair, leaving him clueless on what’s happening. 

The song starts and you strut to the beat until you reach the chair. Your hands are on either side of Hugh’s chest and you move your hands around the same way that you had practiced many times before. His chest was hard and you could feel the muscles of his pecs. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and walk slowly around the chair until you're right in front of Hugh. The song slows at this point, giving the perfect moment for you to slowly drop yourself into his lap, arms around his neck. There’s three quick beats and you bounce up and down. Hugh’s eyes are wide in surprise. He’s a lot taller than Ethan and his thighs hold more muscle. It took a moment to get used to as the routine went on. The entire dance was pretty stereotypical: a lot of grinding, ass popping, and touching. You spent a good majority of the song whispering the words quietly to Hugh. He kept his hands to himself, not wanting to interrupt whatever move you had to do next. When the song ends, you’re out of Hugh’s lap and standing a foot in front of him for your ending pose. The crew gives you the okay to move and you turn back to Hugh, mischief present in your face. “Thank you Hugh!” You squeal, giving him a quick hug once he stands up. “Yea. yea…You’re such a tease.” He says the second part low enough so only you hear. As he walks back to his seat, you could have sworn you saw him trying to discreetly reposition whatever was happening in his pants. 

During your lunch break, Ashley’s strange act continued as she made up some excuse for her to leave- you could tell she was lying. Hugh and yourself ended up ordering subs from some local deli and ate in your dressing room. “So what do you think about everything so far?” You ask, referring to the choreo you’d been learning for the past three hours. “It’s…fun.” You huff at that. “You’re so terrible at describing things Hugh. Oh my god.” You complain. “I’m sorry…It's good.” You give him a blank stare, not satisfied with his answers. “Okay okay, don’t give me that look. You’re phenomenal…watching you dance and feeling you dance on me is making it really hard to just be your friend.” He shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. His answer makes you blush, familiar butterflies fly around your tummy. “Oh.” It’s all you could say. “You don’t have to accept my invites if it’s too hard on you.” “Hm. That’s not it, babe. I definitely want to be here. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He winks as he refers to the lapdance. 

Comments like that had been frequent throughout the past month. Hugh Jackman was a natural flirt. That was a fact you had the pleasure of learning from personal experience and the displeasure of learning from the internet. You had seen countless videos of him being a flirty slut- as a married man. It worried you and had been something you’d been thinking about nonstop since the discovery. Him flirting with you was one thing, but you didn’t like the idea of him flirting with others when he was ‘yours’. You’d also seen videos of him mentioning multiple times that he liked older women, which had become another concern that ate at your brain. Last week, Hugh had come over for a movie night and you planned on casually mentioning the apprehension you had around the issue. 

“Sooo, I heard you liked older women?” 

Casual had never been your thing. 

“Uh..yea. It’s a preference of mine.” You could tell that the question made him uncomfortable. The tiny little toxic part of your heart was happy about that. You let out a short hum. “What was that for?”

 “What was what for?” 

 “Your little ‘hm.’.” You shrug as you speak your next words. “It’s just interesting.” 

 “What’s interesting.”  “You having a preference for older women.”  

“How is that any different from you liking older men?” He asks genuinely and you could honestly smack him right now for not seeing the issue and you would if he wasn’t across the couch. “Hm. I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m currently interested in an older man and you’re straying quite far from your preferences Mr.Jackman.” He lets out a deep belly laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” You cross your arms, a small pout sits on your lips. “You're jealous.” He smirks. “I’m not jealous. I’m skeptical.”  “There's no reason to be.” His eyes are gentle.  “If you say so.” You didn’t want to damper the mood but your mind was filled with ‘what ifs’ and you needed reassurance.

 “Hey. Come here sweet girl.” He motions for you to sit closer to him. You crawl over and his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your head rests on his chest and his cheek is resting on the crown of your hair. “I promise you have nothing to worry about. I like you and only you.” “Pinky promise?” You look up at him, holding out your pinky. He lets out a chuckle and links his pinky with your own. “Pinky promise.” He was looking down at you. You were staring in his eyes, watching the reflection from the flame of the pumpkin pie scented candle that sat on the coffee table flicker. He slowly leaned down, allowing his lips to softly touch yours. It was a lazy kiss, lips moving every few seconds. You could feel every part of Hugh’s lip slide against yours. The slowness of it all was arousing- the heat from his body wasn’t helping. The upward stretch of your neck became sore after a few minutes,  giving you the perfect excuse to climb into his lap. The makeout session lasted about thirty minutes, never speeding up, both of you enjoying the intimacy of the demure, slow kisses. You ground your hips into his in an undemanding manor, not wanting to rush the moment, just needing to feel him against you. A few whispered moans were thrown about, a few neck kisses here and there. The rules were beyond broken that night. You liked to imagine what would have happened if there wasn’t a knock on the door from the food you ordered earlier. 

Your cheeks heat up at the memory as you pick an onion off of your sandwich. Hugh was right, you were a tease. That night, he had initiated the kiss but you turned it into so much more. You could've stopped it, blaming it on the pain in your neck, but you wanted more. With Hugh, you always wanted more. It was your stupid idea to be his friend first and it was torturing you. “What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Hugh asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. “Nothing...These onions are too strong.” You flick the onion you picked off onto the paper that was once wrapped around your sub. “You sure that’s it? You can talk to me babe.” He’s sincere. He’s always so patient and caring towards you. It makes your heart swell. “I was thinking about our movie night.” You admit. “Anything in particular from that night?” He asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about, the wide smirk on his stupid perfect face makes that obvious. “I wasn’t thinking about that, you perv. I was thinking about how I forgot to tell you that I’m going to New York next week.” He didn’t need to know that you were for sure thinking about every detail of his dick that you could remember and you really did forget to tell him that, so you weren’t technically lying. “Hm. I wonder what made you forget?” Smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.” And you did ignore it, immediately talking about your upcoming trip. “It's kinda gonna be my first time there. I performed a show there but I was gone the next day. I have an entire four days to explore this time. Well except for when I work but whatever.” You shrug at the end, voice filled with excitement ready to see the city in its full glory. “What do you have scheduled when you’re out there?” 

“I have a photoshoot, meetings, then the Tonight Show.” 

“First time on Fallon?” you laugh. “First time on any big talk show, I'm so fucking nervous.” 

“Don’t be. Jimmy’s a great guy and you’re good at talking. It’s easy to pay attention to you.” 

“Do you pay attention to me because I'm a good talker or do you pay attention to me because you think I'm pretty.” You were completely fishing for a compliment and you carried no shame for it. “Both.” 

Hugh had become a really good friend and not just because the two of you shared an occasional kiss. He was there for you when you had no one else. The next day, Ashley came over and you tried to ask her why she lied about needing to leave rehearsal early. She either gave a vague answer for each question or completely dodged it. You never asked Hugh about what they talked about, wanting the answer from your best friend, but it was looking like you would have to turn to him to get closer to the truth. You invited her to New York the second you found out you were going. Trying to get her out of her funky mood, you brought it up, asking if she was excited that it was coming up so soon. She quickly agreed to the excitement but each word came out flat and uninterested. About an hour after she left your house, you got a text. 

bestie boo: hey. i’m actually not gonna be able to make it to new york. sorry, ttyl. 

The text caught you off guard but it wasn’t a total surprise due to Ashley’s behavior while she was at your house. That didn’t mean it hurt any less though. The consistent dodginess from her made your throat tighten up. Your first instinct was to text Hugh, so that’s what you did.

You: hey, are you busy rn? 

Hugh <3: Hi baby. No, I'm not busy. What’s up?

You: can you come over? :(

Hugh <3: On my way! 

When you opened the door for him, worry was written on his face. “What’s wrong?” He takes off his shoes, the same way he has the past few times he’s come over. “I feel like you’re always asking me that.” You slump over slightly. “I gotta make sure my girl is okay.” All of the sadness you had over Ashley almost vanished entirely. “I’m your girl?” You ask looking up at him. “Of course you’re my girl y/n. Just waiting for the day you wanna label it.” He smiles down at you and offers his hand. “Now c’mon, tell me what’s got you all blue.” You grab his hand and he follows the familiar route to your living room couch. He sits down and pulls you down towards him. You’re sitting next to him, your side against his. He pulls your legs up so they lay across his lap and he rubs slow circles into your thigh.

 “What’s got that pretty face of yours frowning?” He pinches your thigh lightly as he asks the question. “It’s Ashley, she’s being really weird Hugh. She always tells me things and now she’s just…not.” He has his own frown now. “I’m sorry baby….Is this about me again?” 

“Kinda but not totally. I just wanted to know why she doesn’t like you. You’ve become so important to me and I plan on having you around for a while. She’s been my best friend since we were kids, I want her to like you and be able to be around you.” You put your hands over your eyes, your palms applying  pressure on them to prevent the tears from falling. All the pent up frustration was starting to reach its limit. “Hey, look at me.” He grabs your chin, a gesture he’s done more times than you can count. “Don’t let me come in between your friendships.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault Hugh.” 

“I…I think it might be my fault a little bit.” He admits with a guilty expression, making your heart sting. “What do you mean?” 

“She uh… Ashley might have flirted with me yesterday. I shut it down but…” He sighs nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how to tell you to be honest..” The room around you both felt stuffie and too small. The tears that were held back by the palms of your hands just a few minutes ago, spill out. You were feeling too many emotions: hurt, anger, betrayal. 

This wasn’t the first time Ashley had done something like this. She’d done it with Pedro when the two of you were already together. The only difference is that she felt so guilty that she confessed. This time, Ashley was too much of a coward to tell you what she had done to your face. You didn’t want to lose your best friend but you couldn’t keep her around when all she seemed to do was hurt you. Hugh holds you as you cry, not saying a word. He leaves little kisses on your head and tells you that ‘it’s okay’ over and over. He let you cry without knowing what it was you were crying about. You felt so stupid to have let this slip past you. It had been almost the exact same situation before. Ashley acted weird towards Pedro, she starts being vague, and then you find out what she did. Déjà fucking vu. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s funny sweetheart?” Your mind had been racing so fast, you almost forgot that Hugh’s was still here holding you. He had gone still, the only reminder of his presence was the weight of his arms around you. “I just can’t believe she did it again without me noticing. I feel dumb.” His body jerks in surprise. “Again?” 

—

It was Saint Patrick's day and you were at Ashley’s place getting ready for a party. It was a weird holiday to throw a party for but people used any excuse to get drunk. Leading up to this day, Ashley has been yapping non stop about going to her first celebrity party but tonight, she couldn’t have been more quiet. You excused her behavior for nerves, not questioning it more. Her demeanor has been different for a few days. Ashley wasn’t one to open up quickly or talk about her problems. You only pried as much as you could before being shut out and right now you had been completely blocked off. You tried your best to ignore it, trying to focus on the night ahead of you. 

Billie is who had invited you to the party as the two of you grew close. Being the same age, doing the same job, and experiencing the same things made it impossible for the two of you not to be friends. The party was going to be filled with people you’d never met before, so you asked her if you could bring a person or two- Ashley and Pedro. It was when you told Ashley that Pedro would also be coming, that her prior eagerness for the party dissipated. 

Just as you sat down to start your makeup, Ashley finally spoke. “Y/n…I think I’m gonna skip out on the party tonight.” You lift your head to look at her through the mirror.“What, why? We’ve been talking about this for weeks.” 

 “I just don’t feel like going anymore.” She’s scrolling through her phone. “You’re such a shitty liar, Ash. What’s up? Why don’t you wanna go anymore?” You turn the spinny chair your in to face her. She put her phone down and the look on her face was one you wouldn’t ever forget. It was a look full of guilt, shame. You were trying to comfort your best friend while she was about to tell you the most heat shattering words. “I don’t think it’s smart to be around Pedro.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Why not. I thought you guys were good now, that you liked him?” She’s fidgeting with her hands. “Y/n we kissed.” 

“Who kissed?” You ask, hoping you were misinterpreting what she was saying. “Me and Pedro.” You hadn’t misunderstood her words. 

Your heart shattered. Pedro has only been your boyfriend for a little over a month but it still hurts. You were still in the honeymoon phase, where everything felt like love even though it was just over infatuation with the new relationship. Without thinking about it, you started collecting your things to leave, gathering the makeup you just placed onto the table back into its bag. “What are you doing?” Ashley asks nervously. “I’m leaving.” She didn’t try to stop you. 

When you got home, you felt numb. There was a strong ache in your chest where your heart sits but there wasn’t an ounce of emotions flowing through you. The betrayal of the person you trusted most in this life was worse than any other pain you could think of. You spend hours laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock finally pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. “Hey baby. Ashley texted me saying I should come check on you.” He steps into the house and follows you down the entry hall. “Oh I didn’t know you guys were on texting terms now…” You trail off for a second, not leaving Pedro enough time to say anything before you speak again. “Huh…You know, I guess it would make sense, seeing as you guys are apparently on kissing terms.” You stop and stare at him, looking dead in his eyes. He winces. “She told you about that.” The statement pisses you off. “What the fuck do you mean ‘she told you about that.’? Were you planning on keeping it a secret?” Your voice gradually rises alongside the anger in your body. “No, but I-” 

“but fucking what Pedro? You kiss my best fucking friend and then hide it from me??” Your finger hurts from the pressure of pointing it into his chest. “I didn’t kiss her.” You ignore him. “When did it happen?” “Baby, listen to me. I didn’t kiss Ashley.” He ignores you. “WHEN DID IT HAPPEN?” You scream at him, all of the emotions spilling over. You sink down to the floor, abandoning your prior standing position, and you cry. 

“I didn’t kiss her babygirl. I would never hurt you like that.” He sits down next to you, his back against the wall. You don’t speak. “It was last Tuesday, when she came over to talk to me like you asked her to. She said it was because you wanted her to like me, for us to be friends. She started acting differently and before I knew it she was kissing me. That’s all that happened baby.” He explains as he runs his fingers along the baby hairs on your forehead. “You didn’t kiss her?” You look into his big brown puppy eyes, searching for the truth. “I didn’t kiss her.” He affirms. “I promise, babygirl.” 

“Pinky promise?” He interlocks his pinky with yours. 

You didn’t speak to Ashley for two weeks after that incident. You wanted so badly to know why she did it, but in the end you didn’t think it mattered, each outcome still ended with her being a selfish person- a bad friend. You didn’t really talk things out either but you decided to forgive her. The friendship was too important to you at the time to give up but you wouldn’t let her be anywhere near Pedro again. The idea of them being friends was out the window. 

—

 “What a bitch.” His thick accent shining through extra hard with his own anger.- it makes you laugh. “I don’t even know what to do at this point. I don’t think I can trust her anymore.” he nods in agreement. “I know sweetheart but I'm here for you, no matter what you decide to do. Okay?” it's your turn to nod. “Okay. Thank you Hugh, really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You look up at him, giving him a small smile and a quick kiss on his side. “You know what sucks more than possibly losing my best friend for good?” You ask, humor shines in your eyes. “What’s that?”

“Losing my New York tour guide.” He laughs. “You’re laughing now, but it’s serious. She created these crazy itineraries for us to be the most obnoxious tourist. Now I have to rely on my own planning skills, which aren’t great.” Hugh goes quiet for a moment. You search his face for his thoughts and he seems unsure of what he’s about to say. 

“I could..uh. I could go to New York with you. I kinda need to go anyways, been meaning to go.” He says and when you don’t speak right away, he panics. “You don’t have to say yes. I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I understand if you want some time for yourself..” You giggle at his overthinking. “Hugh, I would love for you to come to New York with me.” He lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. “Okay good. That’s great! I needed to go back a few weeks ago actually so this works out for the both of us.” 

“Why didn’t you go back when you needed to?” His cheeks go red. “Oh my god! You totally stayed because of me didn’t you?”

 “Maybe..” He admits. “I was scheduled to fly back to New York before your album party, but then you texted me. I couldn’t pass that up.” 

“You keep acting like this and you’re gonna make me fall in love with you Hugh Jackman.” A smug smile falls onto his lips. “You better.” 

The few days leading up to you leaving for New York were short. Hugh left for the city the next day, promising he would see you the moment you landed, sealing the promise with a quick kiss. You busied yourself with tour rehearsals and interview prep. It had been a lonely few days. Hugh was gone and you weren’t talking to Ashley, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You and Hugh texted daily but it wasn’t the same as being in his presence, a presence you had come to enjoy having around. You were close to saying ‘fuck it’ and be fully committed to him but a part of you was still hesitant. Too much has happened recently, it feels like you can’t think straight half the time. Your last relationship was only a few months ago, your best friend was trying to steal every man you liked, and you’re at the peak of your career. You needed a mental breather. 

LAX airport was cold and stuffy. People were walking casually towards their destination with a few runners here and there. While you loved traveling, airports made you feel uneasy. There were so many people going to the most random places on the most random days and random times. It was uncomfortable to think about. You sat there in silence, too afraid to wear headphones. You liked to know what was happening around you at all times, a freak peeve. When it was finally time to board the plane, you were already exhausted from it all. Almost seven hours later, you landed at JFK airport in New York City. Once you turn off airplane mode on your phone, you see a few texts from Hugh. He insisted that he could pick you up from the airport and take you to your hotel. Your ‘personal chauffeur” he jokingly called himself. You texted Hugh back as people hurriedly grabbed their belongings and scurried down the thin aisles. 

You: just landed! see you soon hot stuff ;)

He told you beforehand that he made arrangements to pick you up in a private area, away from prying eyes. You weren’t nearly famous enough to know what that means, so you simply followed the instructions he gave you. It was a little confusing at first, having only been in the busy airport once before. With some help from workers, Hugh was finally in your view. He had a big smile on his face with his arms open wide for you. You walked with a little pep in your step, suitcase rolling behind you. When you got close enough, you let the handle go and ran the rest of the short distance to Hughs arms. His embrace was warm and welcoming, a familiar place. 

“Missed you sweet girl.” He mumbles into your hair. You pull back slightly, arms still holding him. “Missed you too.” Your voice is shy, almost forgetting how it felt to have his attention on you. You had missed him, more than you thought you would. Hearing his voice again made life feel real again after the past mundane days you’ve endured. The walk to his car was intimate- his arm sat atop your shoulders as you walked side by side. He insisted on rolling your luggage for you and wouldn’t take no for an answer when you protested. A true gentleman. He opened the passenger door for you, making sure you were in before putting your suitcase in the trunk and hopping into the driver's side. He looked a lot more presentable than you did. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt that hugged his biceps in a way that almost made you drool. It was simple but he looked delicious. Your sweats and hoodie couldn’t compare. His beard had finally grown in, no longer the prickly stubble that rested there a month ago. It was full and you hoped he would let it grow to that length that made him look even more expensive. 

“The option to stay at my place is still on the table if you want it babe.” He says, resting his hand on your thigh as he begins to pull out of the hidden parking lot. There was something so attractive about a man driving. Hugh’s side profile was godly and him driving really did something to your brain. “That wouldn’t be very friendly of us Hugh.” You rest your hand on top of his. “I think that’s the friendliest thing I could possibly do. Offer you a place to stay while in town instead of staying in a dingy hotel.” He eggs on trying to convince you. He first pitched the idea the night he offered to come to New York with you. You immediately declined, not wanting to invade his space. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, it made things too real. He had been over to your house countless times, but you had never been to his. You thought it best to keep it that way. You weren’t sure you could control yourself around him when you were surrounded by all things him. “Nothing is ever friendly between us Hugh.” He squeezes your thigh. “I have to argue with you there baby. In my humble opinion, we are too friendly.” He glances over to you and gives you a wink. He hasn’t been afraid of letting his intentions known. To let you know that he wants you, not as a friend. You’ve seen just how bad he craved you and it was tempting. He knew he had a dangerous effect on you, one that you worked really hard to control. 

“You’re always so horny.” You mumble. “It’s hard not to be when I have a gorgeous girl like you around all the time.” God he was so good with his words. His voice and his way of speaking. It was no mystery as to why he had people swooning for him left and right- you included. “Whatever.” You open your phone to text Stacy, letting her know you landed and in good hands. It was weird flying solo. You got so accustomed to flying along Ashley or Stacy. You weren’t particularly mad at the change if it meant you got to see Hugh’s face light up just at seeing you again. “Will you at least come over once?” He asks, hopeful. “I’ve seen your house, I’d really like you to see mine. It’s where I live most of the time. It would mean a lot.” The squeeze on your thigh lingers, his grip lasting longer than the previous one. You didn’t know how to explain that you really didn’t want to do that- be in his house. You didn’t think he would understand what you mean when you say ‘it’s too much’. The desperation in his voice, the yearning he felt to have you in his home. You couldn’t say no. “Yea I can do that.” The small smile that rested on his lips grew, his face lighting up. It made your stomach twist up in knots. 

The hotel that Stacy booked for you was grand. The elegance and class in the places you’ve stayed at while traveling has never failed to amaze you. Growing up, your family didn’t have a lot of money. When you went on family trips, the cheapest hotel, usually a motel 6, was your usual nightly accommodations. The places you stayed in now would have little you screaming and running around. The whole ‘entering fame’ process had been a huge culture shock that you were still learning to navigate appropriately. 

“Hm. Not too shabby, my house is better though.” Hugh says as he sits your luggage to the side. He had put a hat and sunglasses on, trying to make it less obvious that it was him- trying to hide that it was him who was with you. The hat, sunglasses, and beard combo was doing a number on your body. It took a lot of strength to keep yourself from dragging him to the bed and riding him until you were satisfied. Though, you’re not sure that you could ever be fully satisfied with Hugh. Not because you were scared he wouldn’t be good in bed but because you knew once he had you, you would need him again and again until you physically couldn’t handle him anymore. You  felt him that one night on the couch, movie night, you knew that man was packing and that it wouldn’t take much for him to bruise your cervix.

 “Hugh, please.” You warn him. He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry…Just don’t forget that it’s an option.” “I don’t think you’d let me forget..” You let out a breathy laugh after. Hugh sits down at a small table and watches you as you walk around, exploring the room. You unpack a few things to make it easier on yourself later. “Are you up for exploring today?” He asks as he walks into the bathroom, where you’re placing your toiletries along the vanity counter. “Oo! I’d love to explore. I have one weird request though.” You're still facing the mirror when Hugh comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, sitting a little higher due to his height. “What’s that baby?” He’s watching you through the mirror, as you organize your skin care. “I wanna go to Trinity Church to see Hamilton's grave.” You say nonchalantly. Hugh laughs and questions you. “I need to sing the ‘he’s buried in Trinity Church near you’ line from Hamilton.” Hugh continues laughing. “What!?” He barely gets the words out. It somewhat offends you.  “I thought you’d understand, being a theater nerd and all but I guess not.” You cross your arms and try to break through his hold to walk away. “Mhm. I’m sorry, come back. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You’re just full of surprises.” You relax in his hold. 

“Does that mean you’ll take me?” You look at his eyes through the mirror. “Yea i’ll take you.” He smiles. You look at Hugh in the mirror, observing how the two of you look together. He looks really good holding you and not to toot your own horn, but Hugh and yourself made an attractive couple. He looked good on your arm and you looked good on his. “You're so pretty, baby.” He whispers. “Every time I look at you, I’m blown away that you’re hanging around with me.” His arms tighten around you. “Hmm. I think we look good together, don’t you?” You reach your neck up to look at him as best as you can given the angle. He studies your two bodies in the mirror before agreeing. “Yea we do.”

Walking around with Hugh felt freeing. You’ve been trying so hard to keep things private lately that every time you weren’t in the secure confines of your house with him, you felt panicked. It was something that crossed your mind before the two of you left the hotel but he assured you that it wasn’t very likely that someone would notice both of you. You were a little doubtful in his words, opting to dress in a way that protected you from the early fall breeze and from making it too obvious of who you were. Hugh had been right though, you both were able to walk around pretty freely, undisturbed. He brought you to trinity church first and reluctantly filmed a video of you dramatically singing the line from Hamilton. To you it was peak comedy and Hugh was being a big hater. He took you to a few of his favorite places, hidden gems. It was perfect. You wanted to hold his hand, bodies brushing against each other as you walked, but you couldn’t. The night ended by Hugh taking you to get traditional New York pizza. He ordered a large pepperoni and you both walked back to the hotel. The moment your room door was opened, you were pulling your heeled boots off. The walking destroyed your feet but you’d gone beyond your daily step goals- a win is a win. Sitting at the table with Hugh, you both grabbed a slice of pizza. He waited for you to take a bite first, looking for your reaction. When you took a bite, you let out a moan- you weren’t sure if it was because it tasted that good or because of how hungry you were. “That good?” Hugh asks in amusement. “Yes, I was starving.” He chuckles and takes his own big bite. The two of you down the entire pizza at an embarrassingly fast rate. “Did you have fun today?” He asks you. “Yea, I really did. Thank you Hugh.” 

When Hugh left, you scrolled through all of the pictures and videos you had taken today. You snuck a couple of Hugh and you might have stared at them a little too long. You watched the Trinity Church video so you could post it on TikTok. As you uploaded it into the app and were giving it one last watch before hitting post, a sound caught your attention. You grabbed your headphones and connected them to get a better listen. As you were singing, you could hear Hugh quietly laughing in the background. The sound brought a smile to your face, replaying it over and over just to hear it again. You hit the ‘post’ and called it a night. 

The next morning was an early one. You had to be at the photo shoot at five am to get ready, meaning you were out the door at four. Stacy met you down in the lobby and led you to the car she had waiting for you. “How was your first day in New York? You and Ashley have fun?” She asks as she buckles her seatbelt. “Oh, Ashley didn’t come, we aren’t friends anymore. My first day was good though, really fun.” You smile at the memories of the day prior, ignoring the small pain from hearing Ashley’s name. Stacy gives you a questioning look. You sigh before explaining, “She was being weird and it turns out she was flirting with Hugh the other day when they came to rehearsals. She didn’t even have the decency not to do it in the exact same room.” Her expression turns to an understanding one. “Well, good riddance. I knew after the first time that the girl was nothing but trouble. Good for you babe.” She types on her phone for a moment before turning her attention back to you- your staring out the window, taking in the somewhat empty streets that were full of people the night before.

“So, what did you do yesterday that was so fun?” You don’t look at her when you respond. “Hugh took me exploring, showed me the city.” She snorts. “Hugh, huh?” You look at her sheepishly. “Yea. He felt bad that I didn’t have someone to go with me so he offered.” You shrug. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “I told you.” 

“Told me what?” 

“That you wouldn’t be able to stay away from that man.” She shakes her head. You sometimes forgot just how well Stacy knows you after years of her by your side. The car comes to a stop outside of a short building, shorter than the other ones around it anyway. You sat in hair and makeup for a while, talking to the artists as they worked. You always liked making conversation with the people that helped you, it was always interesting hearing everyone's stories. The photo shoot wasn’t anything crazy. It was a well known photographer that had worked with major stars, her most recent model being Zendaya. It was a huge compliment that she wanted to work with you. It wasn’t like other shoots you had done before, this had been way more artsy and free. You were so used to doing things for brands or for your own music, where everything needed to be a certain way. It was nice to work on projects where you didn’t have to think but just be you. 

When the shoot was over, you sat in a small lobby with Stacy as you waited for the car to come pick you up. You opened tiktok to see what people were saying in the comments of your latest post. Most of them were freaking out over the laugh in the background, over analyzing it to find out who it was. There were a few comments that speculated that it might be Hugh and it made you laugh, shocked by the crazy detective skills your fans had. You kept scrolling when you saw a comment that caught your attention.

‘Y/N GET YOUR MAN UNDER CONTROL SDJFJSDF’ 

You clicked on the ‘view replies’ tab under it trying to figure out what they were talking about. Thankfully, other people were just as confused as you were with multiple ‘context?’ comments under it. 

‘look at hughs recent instagram post 😭’

In curiosity, you closed Tiktok and opened instagram. You went to the search bar, clicking on his username from your recent searched section. You click on the most recent picture making it enlarge and you let out an audible gasp. “Are you okay?” Stacy asks. You almost forgot where you were for a second. “Yea i’m fine…funny tiktok comment.” You tried to play it off, hoping she’d buy the excuse. It seems to work as she gives a small nod, looking back down to her phone. You look back down at your own device, in complete and utter shock. You knew he was built, seeing other pictures he had posted and endless edits of his greasy hawaiian rolls from Deadpool and Wolverine. 

This however seemed so much slutier. He was in, what you assumed was his home bathroom, taking shirtless pictures of himself. You could tell it had been recent because his beard and hair were the same length that it’s been for the past week. You felt frozen, not knowing what to do. He looked absolutely scrumptious. Pulling out your airpods from your purse, you put them on to listen to the attached audio. You had no fucking clue how you were supposed to look him in the eyes the next time you saw him. His voice was something special. It had the ability to make your knees weak at the sound. This was no different. It felt like he was teasing you subtly. You quickly screenshot the picture and swipe out of instagram, opening your message app. 

You: I leave you alone for less than 24 hours and you’re over here posting thirst traps for the internet… 

Hugh <3: I just wanted to thank my team. As the caption said…I am grateful. 

You: hmm you say it’s being grateful, I say it’s being a SLUT!! 

You: you look really fucking good though…

Hugh<3: 😂😂😂

Hugh<3: Thank you baby. Do I get to see you today or are you still busy? 

You: I have meetings the rest of the day :( 

Hugh<3: It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow? 

You: I have fallon tmrw night but i’ll be free at 8pm if you wanna meet up then? 

Hugh<3: That works for me. Text me when you’re done for the day, okay? Talk to you later baby

The car finally stops signaling that you were at the first meeting of the day. There were endless introductions, hand shaking, and smiling. It was a lot more tiring than it sounded. Stacy was doing most of the work, covering major details for whatever was being discussed- again you mainly sat and listened. There were a few times when you really had to pay attention as key points were being made but nothing would be final until your team and lawyer looked over whatever deals were being discussed. There was a short two hour break of freedom that Stacy and yourself used to grab some food. Then it was right back to work. You were somewhat grateful for Stacy scheduling all of the heavy work stuff on one day because it meant you didn’t have to do this again on the remaining days of your trip. Stacy liked to set it up that way, giving you more time to be free from work, you loved her for it. The two of you had dinner together and went your separate ways after. You got back to your hotel at ten and to say you were worn out was an understatement. Your head was hurting from all the talking and bright fluorescent lights of each office you sat in today. 

You: I’m finally freeeee!! 

After hitting send, you hopped in the shower. The best thing about staying in an expensive hotel was how great the water pressure was. The hot water felt like heaven against your sticky skin, the thick body glitter from the photoshoot finally slipping away. You let your mind wander back to the picture that had been in your mind all day. Running your hands down your body, teasing yourself while imagining that it was Hugh’s wide hands instead. You let your hands disappear in the place that ached the most, working as your mind played the fantasies that ate away at you. You could almost feel Hugh’s mouth whispering against your ear as the feeling of ecstasy washes over your body, the running water muffling the sounds of your pleasure. 

Hugh still hadn’t texted you back when you had gotten out of the shower. It was unusual for him to take so long to respond but given the time- and his age- he was probably asleep. The downside to dating older men was their need to be in bed so early. You giggled to yourself thinking about the thought of Hugh being knocked the fuck out in bed after yawning since the clock hit 7pm. Laying in bed, you whipped out your phone opening twitter. You tweeted a quick post, reminding your fans to watch Jimmy Fallon tomorrow night. You scrolled lazily for a while, feeling the sleep take over you but when you saw one post in particular, you felt wide awake. 

‘Hugh Jackman and ex-wife seen walking around New York together a year after separation.’ 

You had no right to feel the jealousy and anger that sat tight in your chest. His ex-wife was something you were completely aware of but it was a subject neither Hugh or yourself had talked about. You understood that she would always be around, after being married to her longer than you’d even been alive. You laugh in disbelief. It sounded so stupid when you put it like that. The age gap never bothered you until you put it in perspective. You couldn’t help who you liked though. The overthinking hit faster than you could stop it. You wondered why he didn’t tell you that he was seeing her today. His smile in the picture was a little too wide, he looked too happy. He wasn’t even yours to claim, yet you wanted her to know that he had you now, that he wanted you. The vile thoughts that danced around your head were making your temper rise. You set some alarms and tried to get some sleep. Most of the night was tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh’s ex-wife. 

Hugh<3: Good morning sweet girl. I’m sorry for not getting back to you last night. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to text me lol 

It was what you saw first when your alarm went off. It was sent a few hours ago since you gave yourself some time to sleep in, given the trouble you had getting to sleep last night. You ultimately decided that you wouldn’t be mad at him for it, you didn’t have a reason to be. If the two of you were official, things would be different, but you weren’t. You were going to try your best to swallow the jealousy and let it be. 

You: good morning baby! I figured that’s what happened lol

Hugh<3: Are you excited for Fallon tonight? 😄

You: yea…only a tinsy bit nervous 

Hugh<3: You’re gonna crush it babe, I know it. I still get to see you after yea? Miss you

You: I miss you too :(

You: do you wanna meet at the hotel after or…?

Hugh<3: I can pick you up and we can go to my place? 

You stared at the message contemplating it. Hugh’s house was already a fear of yours but his house at night seemed a lot more intimate. You felt the need to be that intimate with him though- it was fueled by the pictures from last night, you knew it was. If that hadn't happened, you’d be saying no, making up excuses not to. You needed the validation too much to think straight. 

You: yea we can do that :)

Once you get to the Tonight Show studio, you barely have time to put your things down before you're being guided around. Thankfully, you warmed up your voice before leaving your hotel room just in case you didn’t have time to do it here. The crew had you and your dancers do a quick run through of the song to make sure everything was working before you were sent to your dressing room to get ready. Kat, your stylist, and Amari, your makeup and hair artist, were already in the room ready to get to work. You took the time to catch up with both of them, the three of you falling into a familiar routine. Your nerves started to build up as it got closer to the filming time. About twenty minutes before you were called to stage, Jimmy came back to introduce himself. He was a really sweet guy, super bubbly and humble. It eased your mind a little bit but they shot right back up when your name was called. “Y/n L/n everybody!”. The studio audience erupted in cheers as you walked to Jimmy’s desk. “Welcome to the show, how are you doing tonight?” He asks. “I’m doing amazing, thank you so much for having me.” The cheers finally slow down. “So, I got told that this is your first late night show interview, is that right?” 

“Yes, it is!” 

“I’m honored to be the first.” 

“I’m glad it’s you who popped my late night talk show cherry, Jimmy.” You joke, using your song's title as a pun, which he does his famous laugh at. The interview was going really well, most of the questions being ones you’ve answered countless times before.

“There have been a few rumors going around after a tiktok you posted the other day and I have to ask.” You nod ready for whatever question he’s about to ask. “Is the laugh behind the camera Mr. Hugh Jackman?” Your smile falters for a second before you put it right back on. This was something you weren’t prepared for at all. You let out a laugh. “The fans can keep speculating. A girl never kisses and tells.” It probably wasn’t the best answer- you know it wasn’t the best answer- but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. You just hoped no one noticed the split second your calm facade slipped, that it felt longer than it had actually lasted. 

Hugh was already there when you were free to leave, having texted him in the spare moment you had while getting changed into your performance outfit. Once you were in the car, he didn’t hesitate to ask how it went. “It was good. He uh…he asked about you.” You don’t why you were concerned about how he would respond, but you were. “About me?” He glances at you quickly before focusing on the road again. “Uhh..yeah. I posted the Hamilton video on tiktok and you can hear you laughing in it. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal but people started to guess it was you. I’m sorry.” You slump down into the seat, waiting for his anger to come but it never does. “Don’t apologize baby. I want people to know I’m with you.” He never fails at knowing what to say, his words always flow out of his mouth effortlessly. “I kinda redirected the question though, not really giving a solid answer. I don’t know, it really threw me off.” He nods. “They like to do that, be sneaky.” 

It took a little longer than expected to get to his place, New York traffic moving at a snail's pace. When you do finally arrive, he’s pulling into an underground parking garage that sits under a skyscraper that you can’t see the top of. The elevator ride up was easily the longest one you’d ever been on, his penthouse being on the 56th floor. He opens the door and turns on the light switch that is conveniently placed in the entrance. “Welcome to my home. Mi casa es su casa.” He jokes and you let out a short snort at the stupid joke. “Would you like the official Hugh Jackman house tour?” Excitement was radiating off of him and you thought it was cute that he was this worked up about you being here, in his space. “I’d love one.” He offers his hand and you take it. Your once icy hand being warmed up instantly from his large, warm one. 

As he dragged you to the living room, you started to feel that uneasiness again, like you shouldn’t be here. It kept nagging at you in the back of your head but you refused to pick at it. This was making Hugh happy, you weren’t going to ruin that because of whatever issues you were hiding. After showing you the living room, he pulls you into a large kitchen. A vase full of bright pink flowers, balloons, and a cookie cake that reads ‘congrats’ sits on the counter. You let go of his hand and walk over to the island while he stays put. You run your fingertips over the soft petals of the flowers, peonies- your favorite. “Do you like them? I uh..wasn’t sure what your flower preference was, so I chose peonies because of your song.” 

The gesture makes you emotional. You’d never had a man go out of his way for you like this. He hadn’t known what flowers you liked but he remembered your song title to fill in the blank. A song where you had one line that says: ‘you got me roses when you know I like peonies’. A song from your debut album. “I love them. I love this.” You gesture to the display. You walk back over to where he stands and reach up to grab his face, bringing it down to give him a quick peck on his lips. “This means a lot to me, thank you Hugh.” The previous perturbation vanishing from your head, that cherished easiness you felt with Hugh slips back in. You were meant to be here. 

“Shall we finish the tour?” You ask, spirits high. “Of course my lady, right this way.” He leads you room to room, giving you a mini explanation for each one. It was an average home, well average for a millionaire. It was obvious that a single, older man lived here but not in a bad way, there just wasn’t a woman's touch on the place. “This is bathroom number two, the one I use most frequently.” Something about the room seemed familiar as you looked around. There were a few art pieces on the marbled wall, a large mirror across from them. You were looking at the suspiciously large mirror when it clicked. 

“OH MY GOD!! This is the thirst trap bathroom! I can’t believe I have the pleasure of being in such a sacred place.” You move around the space in a theatrical way, pretending you were in a place of true importance. 

“Oh god…shut up.” He groans in embarrassment. “Could you reenact the moment? It would really help me get the full feel of the room.” You’re still teasing him but that question came back to slap you right across the face. You see a smirk on Hugh's face and he’s reaching his hands down and starts lifting his shirt off- but not in the practical way but in the super sexy crossed arms way. “WAIT! I was just kidding.” You practically scream at him, not mentally prepared to see Hugh shirtless in person. He stops and shrugs, turning around to leave the room. Before you can stop yourself, the horny part of your brain is speaking. “Wait no, keep going.” He slowly turns around with that stupid sexy smile of his and the raised eyebrow thing he does. The atmosphere of the small room changed instantly. He’s pulling at his shirt again, painfully slow in your opinion. As he inches it up, you analyze each slither of skin that’s freed. There is a patch of hair below his belly button leading down into his pants. A strong v-line and a thick vein practically popping out of his skin, begging to be traced with your tongue. The shirt goes higher and higher, revealing more of his chest. Each ab pops out and it’s like a gift from God right in front of your eyes. He pulls the shirt over his head, biceps flexing slightly, and drops the shirt onto the floor. You're frozen in place, not believing that this is real. 

You never have been one to believe in karma but you must have been a saint in your past life to deserve this. You see his mouth move but don’t hear a word he says. All you see is the hairy chest you’d been thirsting over, moving closer until it’s right in front of you. He grabs your cheeks between one hand and faces your eyes up towards his own. “Are you okay y/n?” He has a worry behind his eyes. 

“You’re like really hot. It’s actually frustrating how hot you are.” His grip on your face loosens as you speak. “You asked to see, I was only fulfilling your wishes.” You felt dizzy. He hadn’t even touched you and the way your whole face sits in his one hand and the way his abs are begging to be licked, had you flustered. You were drunk on Hugh. “You're wandering again…maybe I should put my shirt back on.” He goes to reach for it but you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not yet.” It’s mumbled and quiet, aimed more towards yourself than it was to him. 

Hugh stands back up, his height towering over you. You couldn’t decide if he had always been so tall. Towering over you in a way that made your heart beat faster. Your mind was battling itself: the arousal wanting nothing more than for Hugh to do whatever he wanted with you while the more reasonable side knew that there were too many things that needed to be talked about before crossing this line. The line had been crossed many times before with the kisses, touches, hand holding- the night on the couch… Sex was different. You weren’t fond of casual sex, it was too intimate an act to categorize as such. Whatever was happening between Hugh and yourself was far from casual though and you trusted him not to hurt you.

“You’re kinda scaring me here, pretty girl. Are you okay?” You couldn’t tell him that seeing his chest had sent you into a horny dazed confusion. You looked up at him, into his worried eyes. He was always so concerned about your well being and he cared so much about everything going on in your life. God, you prayed that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

“Kiss me please.” Your voice is shaky, unstable. “Are you sure baby?” His hands rest on your shoulders, eyes searching yours for any doubt. 

“Please Hugh. I need you to kiss me.” His once troubled eyes turned dark as he bent down, kissing you like he never had before. The kiss was messy, full of hunger. His hands trailed down your sides until they cupped under the base of your ass. He effortlessly picks you up to sit you on the bathroom counter, lips never breaking contact. You could feel his tongue prodding at the entrance of your mouth as it asked for permission to enter. Granting access, your lips open, a throaty moan draws out as you feel his tongue swipe against yours. He pulls back for a moment. “Can I take this off? Is that okay?” He asks, referring to your shirt. His usual thick australian accent was soft in his breathy voice. You nod shyly and he doesn’t hesitate to reach down. You put your arms up to aid him as he gently pulls the shirt up and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck baby…so fucking pretty.” His hands cup your bra covered breast, thumbs softly trailing over your stiff nipples causing you to drop your head back with a moan of pleasure. “We never finished the tour, sweet girl.” His hands are still fondling you and you lift your head back up to look at him. “What?” 

“There’s one more room I didn't get to show you.” His hands finally drop from your chest and he’s grabbing your hand, leading you towards whatever room it was that you hadn’t seen. He opens the door and the air surrounding you smells like Hugh. It was almost enough to make you pass out, head already light and fuzzy. 

You don’t have time to look around, Hugh immediately turning you to face him, attacking your mouth once again. His hands are reaching for the button of your jeans, pulling them down slowly once he’s got them open. Hugh’s lips escape yours and trail down your neck, your chest, the sides and your body, and finally your stomach as he slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees. He lifted each of your feet, helping you out of each pant leg. At each lift of your leg, he also pulls each sock off, kissing your calves as he does so. You're left in nothing but a black bra and thong. “Mhm. Can I touch you baby?” He asks looking up at you. You nod, the position he was in, all too arousing. He practically growls at your answer and starts leaving messy kisses on your thighs, his hands gripping the back of them. His lips trail up higher, ghosting over where you needed him the most. You could feel his breath through the thin cotton of your panties. Your own breath hitches as he licks a long teasing path between your two folds, the cotton dipping into them from the weight of his tongue. He looks up at you through his lashes, asking for permission. You mouth a small ‘please’ the only word that seems to be in your vocabulary at the moment. 

His thick fingers slip between the fabric and the skin on your hip on either side of your body, pulling the soaked thong down your legs. Before he continues, he’s standing up and guiding you to the bed. “Get up there and spread that pretty pussy for me baby. Wanna see it.” You waste no time doing what he asks, climbing up the unusually tall bed and laying on your back. You don’t open your legs right away, shyness creeping in. You were almost fully exposed to Hugh, the only thing still covered being your boobs, while he was almost fully covered, only his shirt being off. “Don’t go all shy on me now baby.” He says, guiding your legs open, pussy on full display. “Fuck..look at you sweet girl, all wet for me.” His thumbs pull back each fold, exposing the pink that was partially hidden. He leans town and licks from your entrance to your clit. “Mhmm fuck.” You moan out at the feeling. His tongue felt hot against your warm center, beard tickling your skin as he moved. The sound encourages him to continue. He dives down again, tongue lapping around your needy clit. The constant pressure causes your body to jerk voluntarily. Hugh brings both of his hands to hold you down at your legs, tongue still abusing the small bud. Loud moans escape your mouth as his tongue trails down to your entrance sliding in. “Oh fuck me.” You moan out. “Your pussy taste so fucking good.” He mutters against your skin. His right hand moves from its position on your hip, his middle finger sliding down to your opening. He slowly slides it in, the small stretch feels too good. He starts moving it, hitting the spongy bundle of nerves over and over again. “Fuck baby, i’m gonna cum.” You warn him. His head dips back down, tongue returning to your clit and one suck is all it takes for you to come around his finger. You let out a string of moans and curses, Hugh never letting up until your climax is over. He does one more lap around your pussy with his tongue, cleaning everything up before moving up the bed next to you. 

“Been wanting to do that forever baby. Knew you’d have a perfect little pussy.” His words make you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Even with your own orgasm washing the need out of your body, you were still turned on. The sight of your slick in Hugh’s beard and the very noticeable tent in Hugh’s jeans made it worse. You sit up and go to move. “Where are you going?” Hugh asks, sitting up on his forearms to look at you. You don't respond, instead you reach for the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to do that baby.” He assures you. “I want to.” It was the first coherent sentence you’ve been able to muster and it makes Hugh fall back into the bed. You pull his jeans and boxers off in one go, too impatient to wait. His cock springs free, red and angry. It was long, thin, and veiny- exactly as you imagined it being. It made your mouth water. He had a thick patch of pubic hair and it turned you on even more, you were such a whore for hairy men. 

You sat yourself between each of his thighs, running your hands up and down them. He’s watching you as you take your right hand, wrapping it around the base of him. He sucks in a breath. You're looking him in the eyes as you lean your head down, letting your tongue swirl in slow circles around his tip. “Fuck…” You take the tip slowly into your mouth, sucking on it while your tongue still circles. Your left hand replaces the right on his dick, right hand moving down to cup his balls. “Shit..” He hisses out. “Haven’t done this in a while baby, not gonna last long at all.” He confesses but men coming fast had always been something that excited you, so you got to work. Your head dipped lower, taking more of him in your mouth while hollowing your cheeks, creating a dangerous suction on him. Your pace was steady as he moaned. “Yea baby, just like that…mmm fuck.” He was a talker and you loved it. You took him out of your mouth, moving down to his balls instead. You sucked on them as your hands worked his shaft. He was breathing rapidly. “I’m gonna cum baby….ohh fuck baby don’t stop.” You immediately moved your mouth back to his tip, sucking every drop of cum from him, not letting any go to waste. You can feel his thighs clenching next to yours. When you're confident that he was done spewing, you swallow it down happily and smile up at him. 

“You’re a dream, you know that? So fucking perfect for me.” He sighs in content as you crawl up to lay on his chest. “You really believe that?” You ask. “I really believe it, y/n. Haven’t felt this way in a long time..” You didn’t want to ask him what that meant, he would tell you eventually. “You wanna stay here tonight?” You look around, seeing the time on the digital alarm clock he had on a bedside table. It read 11:30pm. “Yea, if that’s okay.” You didn’t want to inconvenience him, even if he’s the one who asked. “More than okay sweet girl.” 

The two of you took a quick shower together, the main goal was to get clean so you could hit the hay. Hugh strayed from that a little bit at the sight of your boobs, which he hadn’t seen fully during the fun you had earlier. He gave them small kisses, worshiping them as you washed your hair. He gave you a shirt to sleep in and you opted to go commando, not wanting to put your dirty underwear back on- Hugh didn’t complain about this. His own pajamas being his boxers and nothing else. The two of you laid in Hugh’s bed, you cuddled on his side running your fingers through the hair on his chest. A silence fell over the room, sleep creeping its way in.

thank you for reading!

part six

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

Please let me know if I missed you or if the tag doesn't work! I fixed a few for this one but please let me know if it's still not working.

If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment on this post ot the masterlist for the series. thank you <3

[chick-it-out]

everything 2 know about sendin a SASE 🐥📬

what you will need: if you live in the US: two envelopes and two first-class stamps if you live somewhere other than USA: two envelopes and one global stamp

instructions: 1.) Write your address on the first envelope. You will be the recipient of this envelope, so make sure it's going to you at your preferred location! Don't seal the envelope. leave it open so I can put stuff in :v Domestic/US mailers: Use a forever stamp or stamps that equal the current postage (73 cents as of August 2024!) International mailers: Do not stamp this interior envelope; I will cover return postage. Just make sure that the stamp(s) you use will cover global shipping - so your mail can go international! (These cost a lil more so i'll cover half. Also the US postal service only likes their own stamps lol) 2.) Fold the stamped/addressed envelope in a way that's going to fit inside your second envelope. 3.) Then tuck that first envelope in there! (You can put whatever else in there-- words, requests, good vibes, whispers and dreams, etc. etc. anything you want to send to me-- just make sure it weighs less than 1 ounce [28g]!) Also, mail needs to be flat. Please make sure the combined situation is no thicker than 1/4 inch (0.6cm)! 4.) Seal the second envelope. 5.) Write Flockin Together's address on the second envelope. Stamp this envelope!

(if you are outside of the USA, please add "USA" after this address!)

6.) Once you got an envelope inside a stamped envelope and it's all sealed up and ready - go ahead and mail it!

7.) I'll send goodies back - stickers, bookmark, temp tats, whatever's flat enough for da mail :) as my schedule allows (1-2 weeks + more if you live farther from me)

if there is anything else that'd be handy to know, just msg/ask! 🐔

[mahmoudgaza98]

Hello, my name is Mahmoud Rashad from North Gaza. I have ambitions, dreams and a love for life like any young person in the world.

I joined Al-Quds Open University to fulfill my dream of studying like any young person in the world, but it seems that I will not be able to achieve my dream because of the brutal war on the Gaza Strip, which destroyed our entire house, and I lost everything I owned and relied on to achieve my dream, including my laptop, university books and library.

We are a family of 12, displaced from our home in North Gaza to the southern areas under inhumane conditions.

We have been suffering from illness, cold, hunger and drinking polluted water for more than

We have suffered a lot from losing friends and relatives who were killed in the war

for 330 days.

I am appealing to you, the global community, for help. I have started a GoFundMe campaign with the aim of raising

50,000 Euros to enable me and my family to find safety in Egypt. The evacuation fees change from time to time; we currently expect a cost of between $4,000-5,000 per person. Any additional funds generated will go towards supporting my immediate needs and those of my family. There are various obstacles that we will face on the other side, and I hope that we can make some things easier for us.

I would like to update you on the situation now that the war has intensified. We are fine and safe, but life has become very difficult now all around us, people are suffering more and losing loved ones every day. As a family, we have literally lost everything we own, our homes and businesses, but we are trying to remain optimistic by thinking about evacuating and we heard good news today that the borders may open soon. We pray that this is true.

Once we are evacuated, we will try hard to rebuild a small part of what we lost in Gaza. If we can achieve our ultimate goal, we will have the funds to start a business to support our entire family. We want to be able to start over and not suffer anymore in Egypt. If everyone can help us with a small donation to achieve our ultimate goal, we will be able to rebuild our lives after everything was destroyed.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza. Please continue to support the most just cause in the world either by donating directly or by sharing the link to other media. Do not hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over.

[a-very-tired-jew]

A lot of the anti-Zionist crowd reminds me of the Che shirt kids from high school and undergrad.

You know the ones I'm talking about.

In high school they'd talk about how the "system was evil" while purposefully being disruptive in class, would barely pay attention or pass a class cause the material was all "propaganda", and would wax philosophic about their teenage comprehension of Communism and its associated leaders. Any history class would eventually end up with them arguing with your teacher. Yes, they would have some good points, but at the same time their understanding of the material would be juvenile at best.

In college they'd get worse. Some of them might continue wearing the shirts and paraphernalia, but others would go all out and start wearing the black beret and/or associated dress of Che and other leaders. They now have a college vocabulary and use it to drive every discussion towards their political ideology. Almost nothing exists outside of their political framework and talking to them is exhausting.

They're also not seen as a disruption anymore, but more as that annoying Tankie who has to go "um, actually" and then go on a monologue about the CIA in class. Professors will either let them do this or tell them that it's not the time or place and that they have to teach. The former gives a small sense of triumph as they "subvert the system" (and we do this because if we don't you become more annoying), the latter causes them to grumble and complain about being "silenced".

Yes, we're aware of the CIA's actions. Yes, Che had some very good points about the role of neo-imperialism in the Global South. Yes, the USA has done some absolutely horrid shit. But what makes everyone keep these people at arms length and/or ignore them is the refusal to acknowledge the atrocities that the man on the shirt did. It's the black and white juvenile reasoning that colors everything they talk about and putting him and other leaders on a pedestal.

If you talk to anyone in the Cuban diaspora they, their family, or someone they know within the community will refer to Che as a butcher. They will tell you about the absolutely horrific things he did as a leader. They will tell you about how this man that young adults are idolizing would imprison and execute them for any number of things that they enjoy simply because he objected to them. The same thing goes for anyone who has family members that survived the USSR or any other 20th century authoritarian country that called itself Communist.

It's the refusal to acknowledge that the world exists in shades of nuance. It's the refusal to acknowledge that these authoritarian Communist governments would imprison, exile, and/or execute all of them and their friends for being queer, speaking out, their writing, their taste in music, their manner of dress, etc, etc... That countries, governments, leaders, ideologies, and people are multifaceted and not this idealized fantasy that can be argued for with whataboutisms.

We see this same behavior in the current batch of anti-Zionists. Some of them are the newest cohort of Tankies who are just repeating the same behaviors we've seen time and time again. However, in this current situation we all have access to information and are able to address things for what they are. The disruptive misinformation isn't as tolerated any more because Che shirt kids are no longer just marching around on the college green in their Communist LARP gear, but are instead coopting a war and its suffering for their Glorious Revolution accelerationist rhetoric.

The adherence and defense of Cold War era tactics, the almost rabid want to implement them, the use of whataboutism to defend your blorbo and the refusal to acknowledge their atrocities, plus the additional antisemitic laden screeds, all the while the world is attempting to move forward from this is downright regressive and juvenile.

And keep in mind, I'm an old alt kid. I've been part of counter culture for decades now. I have patches older than most of these college Tankies. I remember the Che shirt kids and how we stayed away from them because they often spouted rhetoric that was both fantastical and extremely violent. If you're unaware, Che himself believed that to achieve the socialist utopia that extreme violent revolution was necessary (sound familiar?). Not mentioning the fact that often this process gets stuck at the authoritarian step after the violent revolution.

Meanwhile, we just wanted to be accepted for wearing all black, chains, and just being "creepy". We weren't actually violent as most suburban moms believed. So we often stayed away from people who actually believed in violent rhetoric. Not only would it not look good for the alt community, but it was simply antithetical to what we believed. We wanted to be accepted in society and help improve it, not burn it down (and look where we are now, everyone wants a goth mommy. Mission achieved).

The two groups are counter culture in essence, but extremely different. So when I say the current batch of anti-Zionist protesters are just Tankie Che shirt kids, believe me. I've known their type for years.

[bookshelfdreams]

not a fucking day goes by without an american on this hellsite pondering whether they can justify voting for Biden, despite omg! he's supporting Israel!!!!11!

as if Trump didn't literally say just last week that he would not defend America's Nato partners and would in fact encourage Putin/Russia to "do whatever the hell they wanna do"

as if he hadn't been open about his disdain for Nato and his unwillingness to actually adhere to the treaty in case of aggression

as if Russia weren't currently waging a war of territorial expansion fueled by imperialistic delusions of grandeur the likes of which haven't been seen since fucking WWII

Putin has put out an arrest warrant against the Estonian head of state, as if she were a russian citizen. He recently said of course he wouldn't attack Poland unless they attack Russia first - hmm, I wonder if that could be an allusion to a historic precedent? Has anyone ever faked a polish attack on their territory to kick off a massive war???

Putin has all but explicitly stated that he does not want to stop after Ukraine. Now add to this a US president who would encourage - not just stand by, actively encourage - further russian aggression. The campaign for presidential election hasn't even fully kicked off yet, I shudder to imagine what Trump would do or say if he actually held office again.

Of course the situation in Gaza is horrible. Of course we need deescalation (and hey, if you weren't getting your news exclusively from ragebait you'd know that even its closest allies are criticizing Israel, that they will become isolated if they continue on like this. Support for Israel isn't nearly as unwavering and unanimous as you may think).

Please. I'm begging you. Another Trump term could be catastrophic in ways that can't be fully anticipated. Already his party has backed him on (or tried to downplay) his latest attempt to undermine Nato.

We are dealing with an very delicate and dangerous geopolitical situation right now. China observes Russia very carefully with one eye, and looks at Taiwan with the other. And they're far from the only global player with imperialist ambitions.

The US government unfortunately has a huge effect on the whole world, and making your vote hinge on a single issue (when that issue won't even be solved in a way you'd like by literally any imaginable US government! No US president will completely cease supporting Israel, like come on)

making your vote hinge on a single issue like that is incredibly irresponsible

[anarchywoofwoof]

‘this is going to get worse before it gets better’: panama canal pileup due to drought reaches 154 vessels

the panama canal, a key route for global trade, is facing a crisis. 154 ships are waiting, with an average wait time of 21 days. drought has reduced the water level in the main reservoir to critically low levels, which has resulted in the canal's locks struggling to function.

40% of all u.s. container traffic travels through the panama canal every year. the current situation is a direct result of climate change and overuse of natural resources.

climate change: weather patterns have shifted, and the area is receiving much less rain than it used to. the lake that feeds the canal is refilling at a much slower rate.

overuse: development around the area has increased reliance on groundwater and freshwater sources. shipping traffic has surged, flushing more water down the canal.

each ship requires about 200 million liters to pass through, amounting to 2.8 billion liters per day at just 14 trips.

at peak season, that's 10 billion liters per day, all of it fresh water flushed into the ocean. gone. wasted. unusable.

the low water level creates two main issues: availability and pressure. emergency water conservation measures are in place, restricting the biggest boats movements and slowing down the entire process.

this ultimately leads to inflation. shit is about to become even MORE expensive.

this isn't just a problem for some boats or the shipping business. it's a reminder of how our actions and the changing climate are impacting the world in real and tangible ways. the panama canal is a microcosm of a global issue.

we have failed to recognize the interconnectedness of our world and we are paying the price. it will not improve under capitalism.

[rogueddie]

The top posts about Nicaragua on here are all in relation to Palestine and, whilst it is vital to keep talking about Palestine, I can't help but feel disheartened.

The situation in Nicaragua is horrifying and I'm stunned that more people aren't speaking about it. The amount of mass atrocities is gut wrenching.

The current president, Daniel Ortega, has had protesters of his burgeoning dicatorship tortured or killed. He's had hundreds deported and stripped of their nationality. There is a dangerous crackdown on peoples freedoms. Live ammunition is used on protestors.

And that's just politically. The country is in crisis economically. Outside of Haiti, Nicaragua is the poorest country in the western hemisphere.

I understand that we can't talk about every political problem occuring in the world, especially with how much horror and violations there are. With multiple genocides and our own political problems at home, it can be a lot.

But Nicaragua is in dire need of support. The top posts about the country shouldn't only be about their charge against Germany. There are more important things to talk about when it comes to Nicaragua.

I’m trying to find the best places to help the people in Nicaragua, these are the best I’ve found so far but if you know any better please add;

Save the Children Doctors Without Borders Global Giving

And, some more information;

Inside the Nicaraguan Town Resisting President Daniel Ortega | The Dispatch

Nicaragua, Events of 2019 (Human Rights Watch)

Nicaragua protests: Ortega opponents fear for their lives | Al Jazeera

Populations At Risk

Imprisoned and exiled, a Nicaraguan activist rebuilds her life in the US

2021 Country Reports on Human Rights Practices: Nicaragua

'We are not afraid' Why are Nicaraguans protesting?

UK Parliament releases findings on scale of oppression by Ortega regime

Nicaragua orders closure of Red Cross in continuing crackdown

A cry for justice: Five years of oppression and resistance

Nicaragua: Continued and widespread deterioration of human rights

[zvaigzdelasas]

[Calcalist is Private Israeli Media]

"We have a huge deficit of ammunition not just in Ukraine but all over the world. We understand we should produce this here in Ukraine because all around the world it’s finished, it’s depleted. All the warehouses are empty," said Ukrainian Prime Minister Denys Shmyhal to the "Financial Times" in October of last year, addressing the ammunition situation of the Ukrainian army, which is interconnected with the challenges faced by the IDF.

The increased ammunition usage in the wars in Gaza and Ukraine has led to an unprecedented global shortage of ammunition of all types. While the IDF tries not to address the issue publicly, Major General Eliezer Toledano admitted last month that the IDF is reducing air attacks, emphasizing the necessity to "manage the economy of armaments" because the war will last a long time. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu also commented on the matter, stating that "we need three things from the U.S.: armaments, armaments, armaments." At a press conference two weeks ago, Netanyahu announced that Israel is preparing the Israeli defense industries to "cut off dependence on the world," a goal that is not realistic in any way.[...]

[L]ast week the Director General of the Ministry of Defense Eyal Zamir concluded a huge deal with the American government for the supply of aerial ammunition in the hundreds of millions of dollars, and so far over 25,000 tons of weapons have been sent to Israel since the beginning of the war in about 280 aircraft and about 40 ships. The Israeli defense industry is also tasked with filling the IDF's stocks. About two weeks ago it was published in Calcalist that the Israeli companies postponed the supply of weapons worth more than $1.5 billion to their customers across the world to divert resources for the IDF's combat needs and that in the last three months, the Ministry of Defense ordered more than NIS 10 billion ($2.7 million) worth of weapons from them. It should be noted that the shortage does not stem from a lack of budget but from a lack of supply, and the Treasury does not restrict the IDF from purchasing ammunition of any kind.

The tremendous need for armaments stems from the unusual amount of bombings that the IDF has carried out in Gaza since the outbreak of the war. Two weeks ago, the army announced that 30,000 targets had been attacked in Gaza. A security source told Calcalist that the rate of fire the IDF is using in the current war is similar to that of a "superpower," is comparable only to the capabilities demonstrated by the U.S., and probably also exceeds the number of armaments of the Russians in the campaign against Ukraine.[...]

Another reason [for the increase in targets bombed] is that in the current war, the IDF adopted a policy of a lighter finger on the trigger [sic] regarding damage to infrastructure and Hamas operatives who are in a civilian environment, thus increasing the ability to hit targets that were not previously attacked. In addition to these reasons, there is also the added pressure from the political level, as well as from the [Israeli] public, who demand an increase in air force bombing to prevent as much as possible a risk to the forces on the ground.[...]

[O]ne should ask whether, considering the existing ammunition stockpile, this policy may not harm the IDF's readiness to carry out future missions, especially given the existing security challenges and the probable scenario in which the IDF will be forced to [sic] carry out an attack in southern Lebanon as well. The IDF may be forced to better clarify its limitations to the politicians to avoid reaching an extreme scenario of an ammunition shortage, or in the words of General Toledano: "There is no infinite army."

28 Jan 24

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (12/15) - Part I

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @httpsserene @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237 @niahxo @purplelewlew @queenshikongo3

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

The flash of cameras filled the studio, each click capturing a moment in time. Lewis stood before the backdrop, his posture relaxed yet commanding, the very essence of the man GQ had dubbed a "global creative force."

"That's it, Lewis! Give us that winning smile," the photographer called out, and Lewis obliged, though his mind was miles away.

As he shifted poses, he couldn't help but think of Rorie. Her decision to step back from social media had been a breath of fresh air for both of them, even if it meant she was juggling her sponsorship duties more carefully. But lately, with Martin's increased attempts at contact and the whole Athena situation, he'd noticed a familiar tension creeping back into her shoulders.

"Alright, let's take five," the photographer announced, and Lewis gratefully stepped away from the lights.

He fished out his phone, smiling at the lock screen - a candid shot of Rorie and Lyric laughing at a beach in Brazil. No new messages. He debated calling her but decided against it. She was probably in the middle of her individual therapy session.

Their decision to return to both individual and couples therapy had been mutual. After Bahrain and the whirlwind that was Saudi Arabia, they'd both felt the need for a neutral space to unpack everything. The races so far had been a mixed bag - P7 in Bahrain, and a frustrating P9 in Jeddah. But it was the off-track drama that was really taking its toll.

"Alright, Lewis, let's try something a bit more serious for this shot," the photographer instructed, and Lewis complied. His brow furrowed naturally as he considered the complexity of their current situation.

The lawsuit with Deja...and Martin.

The man was persistent, he'd give him that, but after years of absence, what right did Martin have to suddenly play the doting father? And now, with Athena in the picture, it all felt like some elaborately orchestrated play.

"Perfect! That's the look we want," the photographer exclaimed, clearly misinterpreting Lewis's brooding expression as artistic intensity.

As the shoot continued, Lewis found himself longing for the simplicity of the racetrack. There, at least, he knew the rules, understood the game. Off-track, in the messy world of family drama and public scrutiny, the lines were far less clear.

His phone buzzed in his pocket - a text from Rorie:

"Session went well. Lot to talk about. See you at couples therapy later?"

A smile tugged at his lips as he quickly typed back:

"Wouldn't miss it. Love you."

As he pocketed his phone and returned to the shoot, Lewis felt a renewed sense of determination. It was going to be one hell of a season, both on and off the track. But then again, when had they ever done things the easy way?

________________________________________________

Lewis hurried into the modern building in central London, its glass facade reflecting the bustling city around it. He took the elevator to the fifth floor, tapping his foot impatiently as it ascended. The corridor was sleek and minimalist, leading to a door marked - Dr. James Bokinni and Dr. Alisha Williams - Family Therapy.

He pushed open the door, immediately spotting Rorie on the plush sofa. Dr. Alisha and Dr. James, the husband-wife team that had been guiding them through their individual and couples therapy, looked up with welcoming smiles.

"Sorry I'm late," Lewis said, slightly out of breath. He crossed the room, bending down to kiss Rorie on the lips. "Traffic was a nightmare. How's Lyric? Everything okay with my mum and Nina?"

Rorie squeezed his hand reassuringly. "He's fine, babe. Your mum said he went down for his nap without a fuss. Nina's got everything under control."

Dr. Alisha, her American accent a stark contrast to her husband's British tones, gestured for Lewis to take a seat. "No worries, Lewis. We were just catching up. Shall we begin?"

As Lewis settled in next to Rorie, he took in the familiar surroundings. The office was a blend of professional and homey, with warm colors and comfortable furnishings that put them at ease. Photos of their doctors' travels adorned the walls, a subtle reminder of their own cross-cultural relationship.

"So," Dr. James began, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement, "it seems like you've had quite an eventful few months since our last session. Where would you like to start?"

Lewis and Rorie exchanged glances. There was so much to unpack - Martin's increased attempts at contact, the sudden appearance of Athena, the ongoing stress of the lawsuit against The Sun and Deja, not to mention their plans to try IVF again.

Rorie took a deep breath. "I guess we should start with the Athena situation. It's... complicated things with Martin."

Lewis nodded, adding, "And it's not just that. It's the timing of it all, you know? With the lawsuit and everything else going on..."

Dr. Alisha leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. "It sounds like you're feeling overwhelmed by all these sudden changes. Let's break it down, piece by piece. Rorie, how are you feeling about Athena's appearance in your life?"

Rorie took a deep breath, her fingers intertwining with Lewis's for support. "Honestly? It's a whirlwind of emotions. On one hand, I'm curious. There's a part of me that wants to know my siblings, to understand that side of my family. But on the other hand, it feels... I don't know, calculated?"

Dr. James nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "And Lewis, how do you feel about this situation?"

Lewis shifted in his seat. "I'm worried about Rorie. I want to support her, but I can't shake this feeling that there's more to it than just a coincidental meeting. With the lawsuit and Martin suddenly pushing for contact, it all feels like too much at once."

Dr. Alisha leaned back, her gaze moving between the couple. "It's natural to feel overwhelmed and suspicious given the circumstances. Let's talk about boundaries. Have you discussed how you want to proceed with Athena and Martin?"

Rorie shook her head. "We've talked about it, but we haven't really come to a decision. I'm torn between my curiosity and my need to protect our family."

"And the lawsuit," Lewis added. "We can't ignore the fact that any new relationship could potentially complicate things legally."

Dr. James nodded. "That's a valid concern. How do you both feel about seeking legal advice before making any decisions about contact with Athena or Martin?"

The conversation flowed, touching on the complexities of family dynamics, trust issues, and the stress of public scrutiny. As they delved into the topic of trying IVF again, both Lewis and Rorie's voices softened.

"It feels like we're juggling so much," Rorie admitted.

Lewis squeezed her hand. "But it's also something we both want. We can't put our lives on hold because of external pressures."

Dr. Alisha smiled gently. "It sounds like you both have a lot to consider. Remember, there's no rush to make decisions on any of these fronts. Take the time you need to process and communicate with each other."

As the session wound down, Lewis and Rorie felt a mix of exhaustion and relief. They had a long road ahead, but they were facing it together.

"Before we end," Dr. James said, "I want you both to remember something. Despite all these challenges, you're here, working together. That's a strength not every couple has."

Rorie's mind still reeling from the therapy sessions. The individual session had been intense, digging deep into her feelings about Martin, Athena, and the constant pressure of public life. Dr. Alisha had helped her unpack some of the complex emotions swirling around her newfound family, but Rorie still felt unsettled.

The couples therapy had been different - a united front with Lewis, tackling their challenges together. It was comforting, knowing they were on the same page about most things. The IVF discussion had been particularly emotional, but Rorie felt a renewed sense of hope about their future.

The days in London with Lewis's family had been a welcome distraction. Watching Lyric play with his cousins, carefree and giggling, had reminded Rorie of what really mattered.

Now, in Sydney for the Australian Grand Prix, Rorie found herself sitting outside the bathroom door, scrolling through emails while Lyric insisted on "privacy" for his potty time.

"You all done in there, baby?" Rorie called out, peeking her head around the door.

"No, Mama!" came Lyric's determined little voice.

Rorie chuckled, settling back to wait. Suddenly, the hotel room door opened, and Lewis walked in with Spinz and Miles.

Miles grinned at the sight of Rorie camped outside the bathroom. "What's going on here?" Before Rorie could answer, they heard a flush. Miles's smile widened knowingly. "Little man using the potty?"

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a proud Lyric. "Me big," he declared, pulling up his pants.

"Oh wow…sorry, big man," Miles laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"Uh…wash your hands, Mr. Big Man," Rorie reminded, pointing to the bathroom sink.

Lyric climbed his little stairs, enthusiastically "washing" his hands - which mostly involved playing with soap and water.

Spinz shook his head, amused. "He needs to stop growing."

Lewis chuckled, peeking into the bathroom to check Lyric's handiwork. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the scene. The toilet seat was adorned with a scattering of tiny droplets, evidence of Lyric's still-developing aim, and a small puddle had formed on the floor in front of the toilet. It was clear their little boy had given it his best effort, but precision was still a work in progress.

"Oh my goodness, this is going to be a thing, huh?" Rorie joked, grabbing a Clorox wipe to clean the seat and floor.

"Yeah…boys do that," Lewis admitted. "But at least he used it the correct way this time."

"True," Rorie nodded. "Should we put Cheerios or something in the bowl - to help with his aim?"

Lewis looked perplexed. "Cheerios? That's what you have to use?"

"Or one of those pee-pee buddies I saw on Amazon." Lewis gave her an incredulous look. "What?" Rorie chuckled. "Didn't you read that potty training book I sent you?"

"No…between the photoshoot and race stuff, I didn't have time to look it over. But I don't think Cheerios is a good pick; you know he loves them. What if he eats them out of the toilet?"

Rorie scoffed. "Our child is smart enough to not eat some nasty Cheerios out of the toilet."

"But our other child still drinks water there from time to time," Lewis said, obviously referring to Roscoe.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Rorie's eyes cut to Lyric, still playing in the sink. "Can you handle that please?"

Lewis nodded, eyebrows knitting together as he realized what a mess his son was making. He sighed, rolling up his sleeves as he approached the sink. Lyric had managed to create a miniature water park, with soap suds covering most of the counter and water splashed up the mirror. The boy himself was soaked from chest to knees, his shirt clinging to his little body.

"Alright, big man," Lewis said, grabbing a towel. "Let's get you dried off."

As Lewis dealt with the bathroom situation, Rorie made her way to the kitchenette, washing her hands at the sink there. Miles leaned against the counter, a bemused expression on his face.

"So," Rorie started, glancing at Miles. "How are things with you and KiKi?"

Miles nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, we're getting there. It's not easy with our schedules, but she's been making an effort to come to some of my Olympic trials."

Rorie raised an eyebrow. "That's great, Miles. I'm glad she's showing up for you."

"Me too," Miles agreed. "It means a lot, you know? Seeing her in the stands, knowing she's there to support me."

Their conversation drifted to other topics - Miles' training regimen, Rorie's latest projects, the upcoming race. The comfortable banter was a welcome distraction from the chaos of the past few weeks.

A few minutes later, Lewis emerged from the bathroom with a freshly dried and changed Lyric.

Lyric's face lit up at the sight of Miles and Spinz. He toddled over, his little hand raised for a high five. "Up top, big man!" Miles grinned, meeting Lyric's hand with his own.

Spinz crouched down to Lyric's level. "Looking fresh, little dude. Give me some love," he said, holding out his fist.

Lyric, with all the seriousness a toddler could muster, bumped his tiny fist against Spinz's. The adults couldn't help but laugh at the adorable display.

As Lyric basked in the attention of his uncles, Rorie caught Lewis's eye. They shared a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the joy these moments brought amidst the whirlwind of their lives. Despite the challenges they faced, moments like these - surrounded by love and laughter - made it all worthwhile.

Lewis stepped out of the car, carefully unbuckling Lyric from his car seat, and settling him on the ground before they made their way towards the paddock, the familiar buzz of media day already in full swing.

"Alright, big man," Lewis said, settling Lyric on his hip. "Ready to see Daddy's work?"

Lyric nodded enthusiastically, his braids - a miniature version of Lewis's own - bouncing with the movement. Lewis couldn't help but smile at the sight. They were quite the pair today, both sporting Tommy Hilfiger-designed Mercedes team shirts and jeans. Even Lyric's tiny feet were encased in toddler-sized Timberlands, a near-perfect match to Lewis's.

As they walked, Lewis found his mind drifting to the therapy sessions back in London. The weight of everything - Martin, Athena, the lawsuit, their IVF plans - still pressed on him, but he felt more equipped to handle it all. Talking things through with Rorie and their therapists had been cathartic, reminding him of the strength they had as a couple.

"Dada, fast car?" Lyric asked, pointing towards the garage area.

Lewis chuckled. "That's right, buddy. We'll see the fast cars soon."

He savored these moments with Lyric; and treasured this one-on-one time with his son. It was so different from his own upbringing. Where his father had been stern and focused solely on racing, Lewis made a conscious effort to be open, to show Lyric that it was okay to have feelings, to be himself.

"You know, Lyric," Lewis said softly, "it's okay if you don't want to dress like Daddy all the time. You can wear whatever makes you happy."

Lyric looked at him, brown eyes wide with toddler seriousness. "Like Dada," he said firmly, tugging at his shirt that matched Lewis's.

Lewis laughed, pressing a kiss to Lyric's forehead. "Alright, big man. Like Dada it is."

As they approached the Mercedes garage, team members called out greetings, many stopping to coo over Lyric. The toddler basked in the attention, his shy smile growing more confident with each interaction.

"Lewis!" a familiar voice called out. Toto approached, a warm smile on his face. "And look who we have here. Hello, Lyric!"

"Toto!" Lyric exclaimed, reaching out his little fist for a bump, which Toto happily obliged.

As they chatted, Lewis felt a surge of pride. This was his world, and being able to share it with Lyric, to show him that success could come in many forms, meant everything to him.

"Dada race?" Lyric asked, pointing at the car being wheeled into the garage.

"Not today, buddy," Lewis explained patiently. "Today we talk to people about racing. But soon, yeah?"

Lyric nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. As they continued their tour of the paddock, Lewis answering Lyric's constant stream of questions as best he could, he realized something profound. In teaching his son about the world, about racing, about life, he was learning too. Learning to see things through fresh eyes, to appreciate the small moments, to balance his passion for racing with his love for his family. It wasn't always easy, juggling fatherhood with his career and the constant pressure of public life. But moments like these, with Lyric's little hand in his, matching outfits and all, made every challenge worth it.

As they rounded the corner near the Communications building, Lyric suddenly perked up, his eyes lighting with recognition. There, zipping along on her scooter, was Kevin Magnussen's daughter, Laura.

"L'waura!" Lyric shouted, his little legs carrying him forward before Lewis could react. Arms outstretched, the toddler made a beeline for his friend.

Lewis couldn't help but smile, remembering how Kevin had started bringing his kids to some of the races last year. Lyric and Laura had hit it off immediately, forming an adorable friendship that had become a source of both joy and mild embarrassment for their parents.

The Bahrain incident flashed through Lewis's mind - Lyric planting a kiss on Laura's cheek, a sweet gesture that had prompted a necessary but largely ignored conversation about boundaries and not kissing other kids without permission.

As if on cue, history repeated itself. Before Lewis could intervene, Lyric had reached Laura and planted another kiss on her cheek.

"Lyric! Big man, please don't do that!" Lewis called out, jogging towards the children. He shot an apologetic look at Kevin, who was watching the scene unfold with amusement.

Kevin chuckled, shaking his head. "Every time, Hamilton."

"I know, it's becoming a recurring thing. Sorry, man," Lewis said, reaching the kids.

Lyric and Laura looked up at their parents, their faces beaming with innocent joy.

"Lyric's my boyfriend," Laura announced proudly, her three-year-old vocabulary tackling the concept with endearing simplicity.

Lewis and Kevin exchanged shocked glances, both fathers clearly unprepared for this development.

"Sweetheart, what are you talking about 'boyfriend'? We agreed no boyfriends until you're fifty," Kevin said, his tone a mix of jest and genuine concern.

"But he's nice," Laura insisted. "He gave me a cookie!"

"Here, L'waura," Lyric chimed in, digging into his pocket and producing a fidget spinner toy.

Lewis couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. Here they were, two Formula 1 drivers, completely out of their depth in the face of toddler romance. As the two fathers shared a laugh, Lyric and Laura had already moved on, engrossed in the workings of the fidget spinner. Lewis watched them, marveling at the simplicity of childhood friendships and the unexpected challenges of parenthood.

"You know," Lewis said to Kevin, "I think I'd rather face a wet track at Monaco than navigate this whole parenting thing sometimes."

Kevin grinned. "Agreed. But it's worth it, isn't it?"

Lewis nodded, watching Lyric's face light up as he played with Laura. "Every single moment."

Rosa then approached Lewis. "Lewis, it's time for your panel. We need to head inside," she said, gesturing towards the building.

Lewis nodded, turning to Lyric. "Alright, big man, Daddy's got to go inside now. Can you say bye to me?" Lyric, still engrossed in showing Laura how to use the fidget spinner, didn't seem to hear his father. Lewis tried again, but the toddler remained oblivious.

Finally, Lewis used his stern 'dad' voice. "Lyric Apollo."

The use of his full name made Lyric's head snap up, his eyes wide.

"I'm going inside now," Lewis repeated. "Remember, no kissing, okay?"

Lyric gave his father a mischievous grin. "Yes, Dada," he said, in a tone that made Lewis wonder if he'd actually been heard.

"Rosa will watch you," Lewis added, ruffling Lyric's braids. "Be good, okay?"

As Lewis turned to leave, Kevin spoke to Laura in Danish, then fell into step beside him.

"Listen, mate," Lewis started as they walked. "I'm sorry about Lyric kissing Laura again. We've been trying to teach him about boundaries, but you know how kids are..."

Kevin waved off the apology with a good-natured chuckle. "Don't worry about it. They're kids. To be honest, it's kind of cute." Lewis raised an eyebrow, surprised by Kevin's relaxed attitude. Kevin shrugged. "I'm just happy Laura has a friend here. It can be a lonely life for our kids sometimes, you know?"

Lewis nodded, understanding all too well. "Yeah, I get that. It's not exactly a normal childhood, is it?"

As they entered the building, the buzz of media day enveloped them. Lewis took his place at the panel, fielding questions about the upcoming race, his expectations for the season.

____________________________________________________

Later that evening, as they settled around the table in their hotel suite, the Melbourne skyline twinkling through the windows, Lewis began recounting the day's events to Rorie. Her fork paused midway to her mouth, eyes widening comically as he got to the part about Laura calling Lyric her boyfriend.

"A girlfriend?" Rorie sputtered, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "He's barely even two years old and he has a girlfriend?" Her gaze darted to Lyric, who was blissfully unaware of the conversation, happily munching on his dinner.

Lewis shrugged, a hint of pride mixed with sheepishness playing across his features. "That's what happened, baby. Our boy's got game, apparently."

Rorie's brow furrowed, her mind clearly racing. "Is this going to become an issue? Do I have to call Louise again," she paused, giving a mock glare to Lyric, who had the wherewithal to flash a toothy grin, "and explain to her that we tried to talk to our sweet boy about boundaries?" The exasperation in her voice was palpable.

"Kevin's cool with it," Lewis chimed in, his tone reassuring.

"Still... I'm going to send Louise a text. Never hurts to have another side of the story."

"Rorie, you're putting too much focus on it," he said gently. "They're kids, it's cute."

"Lewis, our son is Black and he's—"

"I know that, Aurora," Lewis interjected, his tone suddenly stern. Rorie reared back slightly, blinking in surprise, Lewis's face softened. "Sorry for the tone, okay? But I know; hell, I even experienced it myself. I spoke to Kevin, and he's cool, understanding for the most part. I'm sure he spoke to Louise about it. If things get wild, I'll step in, alright? For now, it sounds wrong to try and stop them from being friends, especially since he'll probably see Laura whenever he's at a race weekend."

Rorie's expression wavered between concern and acceptance. "But a girlfriend though?" she repeated, her voice softer this time.

"I know, I know," Lewis conceded, then turned to their son. "Lyric, any words on this? Like what's going on, buddy?"

Lyric looked up from his plate, his little face the picture of innocence. "L'waura nice," he said nonchalantly, then picked up his fork to eat another little tree of broccoli.

Rorie couldn't help but smile at his simple response. "Nice... okay, well that settles everything. No more kissing, okay?" she pressed, trying to keep her tone light.

"Okay, mama," Lyric replied, his voice carrying the same mischievous undertone he'd used with Lewis on the paddock.

Rorie glanced at her husband, one eyebrow raised. "He's gonna kiss her again, isn't he?"

"Oh, you know it," Lewis chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "He's a charmer."

"Just like his father," Rorie added, a mix of exasperation and fondness in her voice as she took a sip of her wine.

The conversation lulled for a moment as they all focused on their meals. Rorie couldn't help but steal glances at Lyric, marveling at how quickly he was growing up. It seemed like just yesterday he was a tiny baby in her arms, and now he was making friends and apparently finding "girlfriends" at the track.

Lewis reached over and squeezed her hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her skin. His eyes met hers, full of understanding. "He's going to be fine, babe. We're here to guide him, but we've got to let him figure some things out on his own too."

Rorie nodded, returning the gentle pressure of his hand. "I know," she said softly, her gaze drifting back to Lyric. "It's just... it all happens so fast, doesn't it?"

One thing Rorie didn't fuck around with was anything that involved her son.

The journey to motherhood had been a long and arduous one, filled with heartbreak and disappointment before Lyric finally came into their lives. She remembered the endless doctor's appointments, the hormone treatments, the tears shed in quiet moments when she thought Lewis wasn't looking. When Lyric was finally born, it felt like a miracle.

Raising him in the limelight brought its own set of challenges. Every milestone was scrutinized, every decision questioned by strangers who felt entitled to an opinion on their family life. The recent media circus with The Sun had only intensified Rorie's protective instincts. And now, this situation with Lyric and his "girlfriend" Laura had her on edge.

Rorie found herself pacing in the paddock, phone pressed to her ear as she spoke with Louise, Kevin's wife.

"Really, Rorie, it's fine," Louise's voice came through, her Danish accent softening the words. "They're just kids being kids."

Rorie sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know, I know. I just... I worry, you know?"

"Of course you do," Louise chuckled. "That's what mothers do. But trust me, it's harmless. And I appreciate you talking to Lyric about boundaries."

As she ended the call, Rorie felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

Maybe I was overreacting a bit?

Race day, as usual, was a flurry of activity. Rorie watched as Lewis prepared, his focus sharpening as he slipped into race mode. Lyric bounced around excitedly, decked out in his mini Mercedes gear.

As Lewis donned his helmet, Rorie's phone buzzed insistently. A quick glance showed a barrage of texts from Martin. She felt a familiar twist in her stomach but pushed it aside. Today was about Lewis and the race.

Instead, she fired off a quick text to C.J.:

"Can you send over Athena's contact info?"

Within seconds, her PA responded with the information. Rorie couldn't help but marvel at C.J.'s efficiency. Hiring him had been one of her better decisions lately.

As she contemplated her next move, an unknown number popped up on her screen:

"Can we talk?"

Now, who the fuck was this? Rorie's fingers hovered over the keyboard, a response forming in her mind. But before she could hit send, Lewis's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Ror?" he called, beckoning her over.

She pocketed her phone, the unsent message forgotten for now. As she approached, Lewis pulled her close for an embrace.

"You've got this," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his helmet.

With a final nod, Lewis climbed into his car. Rorie scooped up Lyric, moving to their spot in the garage. As the engines roared to life, she felt the familiar mix of excitement and anxiety that came with every race.

"Dada!" Lyric cheered as Lewis's car pulled out, his little hands clapping enthusiastically. Rorie held him close, grateful for this moment of normalcy amidst the chaos of their lives.

As Lewis's Mercedes lined up in its grid position, the air in the garage crackled with tension. The rumble of engines filled the air, a symphony of power and precision. Rorie could feel the vibrations in her chest, matching the rapid beat of her heart.

Toto's voice crackled over the headset, his Austrian accent clipped and focused as he delivered last-minute instructions to the team. In the car, Bono's calm tones filtered through to Lewis, a familiar ritual of encouragement and strategy.

"Okay, Lewis, we're looking good. Remember, it's a long race. Let's bring it home," Bono said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Rorie watched the giant screens, her grip on Lyric tightening slightly as the start sequence began. The red lights blinked on one by one, the tension in the air building with each passing second.

"Lights out and away we go!" the commentator's voice boomed through the speakers.

In an instant, the track erupted into controlled chaos. Twenty cars launched forward in a breathtaking display of speed and skill. Lewis's Mercedes shot off the line, jockeying for position as they hurtled towards the first corner.

Lyric squealed with delight, his eyes wide with wonder as he watched his father's car disappear into the distance. Rorie found herself holding her breath, as she always did in these first crucial moments of the race.

As the cars navigated the chicane, weaving through with millimeter precision, Rorie felt the familiar mix of pride and anxiety wash over her. The race unfolded like a high-speed chess match, with Lewis showcasing his unparalleled skill at every turn. He executed a brilliant overtake on the outside of turn three, threading the needle between two rivals with breathtaking precision. Lap after lap, he chipped away at the lead, his Mercedes dancing on the edge of adhesion as he pushed it to its limits.

In a heart-stopping moment, Lewis's car collided with George's, sending both spinning off the track in a shower of carbon fiber and rubber.

"Fuck!" Toto's voice boomed through the garage, his frustration palpable.

"Fuck!" Lyric parroted innocently, causing Toto to shake his head.

"Lyric, no," Toto said, his expression softening. "That's a bad word. Don't repeat that."

Rorie's heart raced as she watched the aftermath, relief washing over her as Lewis climbed out of the car unharmed. She was disappointed about the DNF, but grateful he was safe. As Lewis and George were driven back to the garage in the medical car, Rorie's phone rang - Lil Yachty.

"Hey, Boat," Rorie answered, "I may have to call you back. Lewis needs me."

"Oh, for sure, but I'll be quick, if that's okay?" he said.

Lyric, hearing the familiar voice, chimed in with a "What's up, Boat?" in his adorable toddler voice.

"Hey, lil' bro, what's up?"

"A lot," Rorie scoffed with an eyeroll. "Apparently, he's got a girlfriend now."

"Oh? That's what's up." Yachty's tone shifted slightly. "So, Ror, you got any free time in the next few weeks?"

Rorie's eyebrow arched. "Yes…?" she replied, curiosity coloring her voice.

"How'd you feel about performing at Coachella with me?"

Rorie's eyes widened, a mix of excitement and surprise flooding through her. "No freaking way."

"Way. Listen, I'll let you handle your stuff with your hubby, but I'll reach out to you and your people with more details, alright?"

"Yeah...of course. Wow, this is nuts."

"You got it, Rorie. Love ya, big sis."

"See ya, Boat."

When she hung up, she felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. This was insane - first, she performed at Austin City Limits, and now performing at Coachella was an option.

Rorie took a few deep breaths to calm herself, then stood up as Lewis came back into the garage. He immediately found them and took Lyric from her arms, kissing her temple. From his flat expression and silence, she knew he was furious. But he kept his composure, his posture never revealing his true feelings. Rorie wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the warmth and security of his body.

"Lean on me," she said, her words meaning much more than him shifting some of his weight onto her.

And so he did—literally and figuratively—allowing her to be his rock.

"I love you, Aurora Borealis," he whispered in her hair.

"I love you too, LewLew Bear," she replied.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of the downtown Los Angeles law office, casting long shadows across the polished conference table. Deja sat rigidly in her chair next to her lawyer, her jaw set in defiance as she faced Julian across the gleaming expanse of wood.

The air was thick with tension, the proposed settlement papers lying untouched between them. Deja's lawyer, a formidable Black woman named Tanya, pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Deja, I strongly advise you to consider this offer," Tanya said, her voice strained with barely contained exasperation. "It's more than fair, given the circumstances."

Deja shook her head vehemently. "No. I'm not backing down. We can win this."

Julian leaned back in his chair, his expression a mixture of pity and annoyance. "Ms. Barnes, I urge you to listen to your counsel. This offer won't be on the table indefinitely."

Tanya turned to Deja, her patience clearly wearing thin. "You need to understand the reality of your situation. With Luisa's testimony now supporting the Hamiltons, your position is significantly weakened."

"I don't care," Deja snapped. "I know what happened. I'm not letting them silence me."

Tanya's eyes flashed with anger. "If you're not going to value my expertise, then I don't see how I can continue to represent you."

The meeting ended in a stalemate, with Deja storming out of the office. As she stepped onto the busy LA street, she pulled out her phone, dialing Alexander's number for what felt like the hundredth time.

Straight to voicemail.

Again.

This motherfucker.

Since the Hamiltons were acting on business about the lawsuit, Alexander slowly but surely began to distance himself from her. And she couldn't blame him, yet he was just as involved in this as she was, so playing innocent wasn't going to work.

Frustrated, she ducked into a nearby alley, fishing a vape pen from her purse. She didn't usually smoke, but the stress was getting to her. As she inhaled, the sweet vapor filling her lungs, Deja leaned against the cool brick wall, closing her eyes.

Everything was falling apart. Her supporters were abandoning her one by one, brand deals had dried up, and now even her lawyer was threatening to jump ship. The trial loomed in May, and she felt increasingly alone.

With shaky fingers, she pulled out her phone again, opening one of her text apps. She typed out a message to Rorie's old number: "Can we talk?"

Her thumb hovered over the send button, a mix of hope and desperation coursing through her. As the LA traffic roared by at the end of the alley, Deja pressed send, clinging to the slim chance that Rorie's number hadn't changed after all these years. It felt like a Hail Mary, but at this point, what did she have to lose?

TO BE CONTINUED.....

[hedgehog-moss]

I want to know all the scandalous gossips of your village. Is that weird?

It's understandable! I'm not into gossip except when it's animal-related but as a frequent library-goer (a place mainly frequented by elderly women) I end up overhearing a lot of stuff and some of it is somewhat fascinating.

One of my favourite pieces of local gossip is about the Cursed Inn—not the main street inn which is very loved as are its owners, but another inn just outside the village, whose owners keep changing and always seem to meet a tragic end. There have been drownings, kitchen-related accidents (? I don't know), incredibly dramatic divorces, the Fire of 1982, and so on, but the inn is very well-situated (on a hilltop so all the rooms have amazing views) so it always finds new owners.

The new buyers never believe locals about the curse, of course. The people who currently run the inn bought it just before covid started (which is obviously curse-related) (well, people aren't claiming the global pandemic was caused by this modest local curse in the French countryside but you have to admit the timing is suspect), and their son's bakery in another village has recently gone out of business, which is obviously due to the fact that his relatives run the cursed inn. Why else would a bakery go out of business.

Anyway—why is the inn cursed? Because it was built with Resistance money. During WWII, Allied forces would sometimes parachute coffers of money in specific locations for resistants in the mountain maquis, to buy weapons and supplies for sabotage operations, etc, and one day this random cow herder in the village suddenly had enough money to buy this nice plot of land and start building an inn. Everyone strongly suspected he'd stumbled upon some of that parachuted money while herding his cows, and most locals shunned him and his inn (though it still prospered thanks to tourists.) The guy ended up hanging himself for unrelated reasons (family drama) (but still), then the next owners went bankrupt after trying and failing to start an additional fruit tree business on the property. Locals didn't dislike the new owners, who weren't related to the original one, but the reaction was along the lines of "of course they went bankrupt, no one's going to prosper in that place" because of cosmic justice or something. It's been 70+ years and people are still vaguely ill-disposed towards the inn that was built with resistance money and whenever something bad happens to the latest owners the general sentiment is "they live in the cursed inn, what did they expect."

[mavcancees]

how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees

so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR

i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive

let's start with the basics and frequent questions

your username can be anything, don't stress about it

your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile

your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible

check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!

yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end

tags

it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary

the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case

you can use spaces on your tags

usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts

you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply

quick reblog and like deets

post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site

you can reblog without tags, feel free to

you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster

actually posting

people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter

there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free

the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?

don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you

block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make

culture time

i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care

tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree

tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes

because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact

you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like

the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person

you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree

again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door

[mariacallous]

Why disinformation experts say the Israel-Hamas war is a nightmare to investigate

The Israel-Hamas conflict has been a minefield of confusing counter-arguments and controversies—and an information environment that experts investigating mis- and disinformation say is among the worst they’ve ever experienced.

In the time since Hamas launched its terror attack against Israel last month—and Israel has responded with a weekslong counterattack—social media has been full of comments, pictures, and video from both sides of the conflict putting forward their case. But alongside real images of the battles going on in the region, plenty of disinformation has been sown by bad actors.

“What is new this time, especially with Twitter, is the clutter of information that the platform has created, or has given a space for people to create, with the way verification is handled,” says Pooja Chaudhuri, a researcher and trainer at Bellingcat, which has been working to verify or debunk claims from both the Israeli and Palestinian sides of the conflict, from confirming that Israel Defense Forces struck the Jabalia refugee camp in northern Gaza to debunking the idea that the IDF has blown up some of Gaza’s most sacred sites.

Bellingcat has found plenty of claims and counterclaims to investigate, but convincing people of the truth has proven more difficult than in previous situations because of the firmly entrenched views on either side, says Chaudhuri’s colleague Eliot Higgins, the site’s founder.

“People are thinking in terms of, ‘Whose side are you on?’ rather than ‘What’s real,’” Higgins says. “And if you’re saying something that doesn’t agree with my side, then it has to mean you’re on the other side. That makes it very difficult to be involved in the discourse around this stuff, because it’s so divided.”

For Imran Ahmed, CEO of the Center for Countering Digital Hate (CCDH), there have only been two moments prior to this that have proved as difficult for his organization to monitor and track: One was the disinformation-fueled 2020 U.S. presidential election, and the other was the hotly contested space around the COVID-19 pandemic.

“I can’t remember a comparable time. You’ve got this completely chaotic information ecosystem,” Ahmed says, adding that in the weeks since Hamas’s October 7 terror attack social media has become the opposite of a “useful or healthy environment to be in”—in stark contrast to what it used to be, which was a source of reputable, timely information about global events as they happened.

The CCDH has focused its attention on X (formerly Twitter), in particular, and is currently involved in a lawsuit with the social media company, but Ahmed says the problem runs much deeper.

“It’s fundamental at this point,” he says. “It’s not a failure of any one platform or individual. It’s a failure of legislators and regulators, particularly in the United States, to get to grips with this.” (An X spokesperson has previously disputed the CCDH’s findings to Fast Company, taking issue with the organization’s research methodology. “According to what we know, the CCDH will claim that posts are not ‘actioned’ unless the accounts posting them are suspended,” the spokesperson said. “The majority of actions that X takes are on individual posts, for example by restricting the reach of a post.”)

Ahmed contends that inertia among regulators has allowed antisemitic conspiracy theories to fester online to the extent that many people believe and buy into those concepts. Further, he says it has prevented organizations like the CCDH from properly analyzing the spread of disinformation and those beliefs on social media platforms. “As a result of the chaos created by the American legislative system, we have no transparency legislation. Doing research on these platforms right now is near impossible,” he says.

It doesn’t help when social media companies are throttling access to their application programming interfaces, through which many organizations like the CCDH do research. “We can’t tell if there’s more Islamophobia than antisemitism or vice versa,” he admits. “But my gut tells me this is a moment in which we are seeing a radical increase in mobilization against Jewish people.”

Right at the time when the most insight is needed into how platforms are managing the torrent of dis- and misinformation flooding their apps, there’s the least possible transparency.

The issue isn’t limited to private organizations. Governments are also struggling to get a handle on how disinformation, misinformation, hate speech, and conspiracy theories are spreading on social media. Some have reached out to the CCDH to try and get clarity.

“In the last few days and weeks, I’ve briefed governments all around the world,” says Ahmed, who declines to name those governments—though Fast Company understands that they may include the U.K. and European Union representatives. Advertisers, too, have been calling on the CCDH to get information about which platforms are safest for them to advertise on.

Deeply divided viewpoints are exacerbated not only by platforms tamping down on their transparency but also by technological advances that make it easier than ever to produce convincing content that can be passed off as authentic. “The use of AI images has been used to show support,” Chaudhuri says. This isn’t necessarily a problem for trained open-source investigators like those working for Bellingcat, but it is for rank-and-file users who can be hoodwinked into believing generative-AI-created content is real.

And even if those AI-generated images don’t sway minds, they can offer another weapon in the armory of those supporting one side or the other—a slur, similar to the use of “fake news” to describe factual claims that don’t chime with your beliefs, that can be deployed to discredit legitimate images or video of events.

“What is most interesting is anything that you don’t agree with, you can just say that it’s AI and try to discredit information that may also be genuine,” Choudhury says, pointing to users who have claimed an image of a dead baby shared by Israel’s account on X was AI—when in fact it was real—as an example of weaponizing claims of AI tampering. “The use of AI in this case,” she says, “has been quite problematic.”