#I love Four. I’m Fourposting.

[sanitizedsubject]

There’s method in my madness,

There’s no logic in your sadness,

You don’t gain a signal thing from misery, take it from me

[remuslupinslittleslut]

poly!marauders getting mad at reader for not letting them study for an upcoming test, and she’s needy and whiny but when they go and help her she’s trying to get herself off so they punish her but after they punish her, they finally give her what she wants

OH this was so much fun!!!

You knew the rules. Not to touch yourself and not to disturb your daddies while they were busy studying. Sometimes, it was just so hard to follow these rules. Laying splayed out on James’ bed, watching your three boyfriends sitting on the floor, studying. There was a big test coming up, but you already knew you’d ace it – you were awesome at potions and rarely had to study for the tests. Your boys, however, usually had to study a lot – even Remus had a hard time preparing for these tests.

“Daddy,” you whined, not being able to hold it any more, “I need love and attention.” You allowed your head to fall off the side of the bed, making up-side-down eye contact with James, your safest bet, as he usually caved first. “And I need it now.”

Unfortunately, even James was stressing over the test and allowed Remus to chastise you.

“Darling, don’t disturb your daddies,” he said, not even looking up from his book, “we only let you stay here if you promised to behave, don’t make me kick you out.”

Huffing, you closed the curtains around the fourposter, turning your back to them, even though they couldn’t possibly see that.

It was so unfair, they could come to you for sex pretty much whenever they wanted – and there were four of them to satiate. But when you needed to relieve some tension it was suddenly a crime to be horny. You knew how upset they would be if you touched yourself, but you really needed it. To your credit, you held out for all of twenty minutes before you caved, dipping a hand into your panties, pushing a finger in between your wettened folds.

Unbeknownst to you, your daddies did want to help you out, and they had secretly agreed to only make you wait for a little while longer. It was truly unfortunate, as the curtains were pushed open, revealing you toying with your own clit.

“Hah! Knew she couldn’t wait for that long,” Sirius mocked.

Ignoring him, Remus sat down on the side of the bed (also ignoring James’ sniggering that you had chosen his bed to get off in), rubbing your calf comfortably. “Now, now, little one,” do you remember the rules you promised to obey?”

“Yes daddy, I remember them,” you said, confidently, happy that he didn’t seem too angry at you.

“Awe, what a good girl, can you tell them to me?”

Nodding, you happily listed them: “don’t disturb daddies, don’t leave the room, don’t touch myself.”

At your words, Remus’ demeanor changed in an instant, hand slapping your naked thigh. “And what did you do? Huh? What did the little slut do?”

“I’m so sorry daddy, but you said not to interrupt and it was an emergency,” you cry out, shame coloring your cheeks red.

“An emergency?” One of his eyebrows shot up, questioningly.

“Yes, daddy, it really hurted I only had to relieve some tension, it was really uncomfy.”

“What punishment should she get today?” Remus asked, turning his body away from you and facing your other daddies.

You laid perfectly still, waiting with anticipation as they discussed your following punishment in hushed voices. Normally, you’d get punishments you actually really enjoyed, like being spanked, overstimulated or wearing your collar, making you extra bratty sometimes, so you could enjoy some of that kinky stuff. Therefore, you were very excited as they turned back to face you, having decided on a punishment for you.

“Hands up and legs spread apart, love,” said James, before being handed handcuffs from Sirius, who had gone to get the big box of fun.

You obliged, letting James tie your hands up against the headboard, as Sirius tied your legs to either side of the lower end of the bed. Before deeming themselves done, they both tugged lightly at the cuffs, making sure they wouldn’t hurt you.

“Now, little one, you’ve been very bad. First, you tried to interrupt daddies studying, and when that didn’t work you touched yourself,” Remus said, towering before you. “You need to be punished for this, you do understand that, right?”

You nodded, not wanting to break any more rules by speaking out of turn.

“You’re going to stay here, and we’ll put a blindfold on you. Then, we’re going to go down for dinner, and when we get back we’ll each take turns using you, and you may not come during this time.”

The air left your body, disappointment filling you all the way up. Remus made Sirius put the blindfold on you, kissing your head softly before you heard them all leave the dorm, closing the door and leaving you behind.

They usually didn’t take that much time eating dinner, but this day it felt as though they ate every bite in slow motion, chewing all their bites one hundred times and making small talk with everyone in the great hall. You despised them in that moment, hating this new type of mean punishment. It felt as though hours had gone by when the door to their dorm was finally opened. With your senses finely tuned for their return, you made out three sets of footsteps entering the room.

“Have you learned your lesson, little one?” Remus asked you, hand coming down to squeeze your tit.

Not sure if you were allowed to speak, you nodded your head, vigorously. This earned you a slap to the tit.

“Use your words, little slut,” Remus said.

Feeling anger rise back up inside you, you quickly had to swallow it down, not wanting to get into more trouble.

“Yes daddy, I learned my lesson, I will not play with myself without permission again,” you said, obediently.

In return, you received only a hum. They made you wait, laying there, legs spread and arms tied up, all for their pleasure, for a few minutes more, just appreciating your delicious body.

Then, someone joined you on the bed, and by the heat of their body, you figured it was James.

“Hi little baby,” he cooed, kissing your nose and patting your cheek.

“Hi daddy,” you breathed, happy to be touched.

His hand reached down between your legs, spreading the wetness around your pussy, making sure you were ready for the penetration that was undoubtedly about to come. Indeed, a few seconds later, his girthy cock pressed into your little pussy, your walls squeezing tightly around him. He stayed still inside you for a few moments, adjusting to the feeling of your warm cunt hugging his cock. You let out a hiss as his hips started moving, thrusting into you slowly, sensually.

You wished so badly that your arms could wrap around him, holding him close, tugging at the ends of his hair, making him moan into the crook of your neck. The perceived loss made you want to cry, you knew how soft his back was, how lovely it was to run your hands up and down it as his cock continuously pushed against your g-spot. Unable to hold it, you cried out, tears starting to form in your eyes as your body shook through your orgasm.

Thinking the punishment was over, you relaxed your body, letting James chase his own orgasm. They had, however, decided to be extra cruel on this day and so – knowing how much you loved the feeling of them coming inside you, pumping you full of their cum – James pulled out in the last second, cock covering only the outer parts of your glistening pussy in cum.

By now, the tears had saturated the blindfold and started to run down your cheeks, hitting the hair around your face. This didn’t stop them however, as you soon felt Remus join you and James on the bed, lightly pushing James away from you, and taking his place.

“Oh no, our little crybaby can’t even handle some cock, what a shame…” he said, placing his arms on either side of your head, pushing his body up and hovering right above you. “I was going to fuck you, but since you can’t handle it, I’ll just do this instead.” He thrust his hips, cock swiping along your pussy, lubed up from your juices mixed with James’ seed.

Even this was torture for you, it felt amazing to have the head of Remus’ cock push against your clit with every stroke, but you missed the feeling of him inside you. With an arched back and tears streaming down your face, you bucked your hips up to try and make him slide in. This made Remus laugh at you, mockingly and pinch your thigh. “You’re such a little baby,” he mocked, “just a little cockwhore.”

It was like he got off on your tears, hips snapping against yours faster, bringing himself closer to his orgasm. “You love this, don’t you, little crybaby, love taking cock, don’t even care where it goes, as long as you get it, so good f’me, little whore.” You knew he got off on degrading you, knew he loved tearing you down before building you up, but it was hard to remember as he kept throwing insults at you. You almost reached your breaking point as he grabbed a hold of your chin, holding your mouth open and spitting in it. It felt so degrading, but also so hot, you felt overwhelmed as the tip of his cock against your sensitive nub sent you over the edge, both of you coming at the same time, his cum blended with James’ as it ran down your cunt, pooling beneath your bum. Patting your cheek, Remus leant down, kissing your forehead. “Good girl.”

Your body was spent, legs aching, face irritated from the tears, pussy oversensitive from all the fucking. But you knew you had one more daddy to please. Feeling yourself enter another headspace, you braced yourself for Sirius to use you, as the two others had before. “Hi little baby,” he said, softly, wiping the tears from your cheek. “Are you sensitive here?” He pinched your clit, eliciting a very loud noise from the back of your throat. “Hmm, better use this little hole then,” he said, thumb pushing past your lips.

Climbing over your body, he placed his knees on either side of you, fore and middle fingers pushing into your mouth, pressing against the back of your throat, making you drool all over your chin and throat. “Yeah, that’s a good little slut,” he said, as his fingers left your mouth, cock pushing into it instead.

You lost all perception of reality as your head went deep into subspace, mouth falling open, all for your daddies’ pleasure. You trusted them completely, and knew they’d take care of you, so you allowed yourself to let go, filling your head with only daddy Sirius, and, most importantly, his cock, sliding in and out of your open mouth. You had no idea how much time passed until he pulled out, jerked himself a few times, and then spilled over your face, fingers coming down to spread the mess around.

Somewhere in the background, you heard a camera snap, but you couldn’t be sure, as you had lost all touch of reality. You didn’t even notice your hands and legs being untied, didn’t feel the soft, warm hands rubbing the points that had been tied. When the blindfold was pulled off, you weren’t at all prepared for the ache in your eyes as light hit.

“Hi baby,” James said, kissing you all over your face, brushing the teary hair away.

“Sit up love,” said Sirius before pulling one of Remus’ shirts over your head, helping you put your arms through the holes. He then scooted himself behind you, letting your back fall against his chest. James still caressing your face, kissing you and whispering sweet words.

“Here you go, love, open up,” Remus said, pushing a straw into your mouth, helping you drink water. When you had swallowed the water, he lifted a fork up to your face. They had brought you dinner.

Once he had made you eat a few bites, he put the plate away for a little bit, taking your hands in his and rubbing them softly. “Are you with us, darling?”

You giggled, “Yes daddy, I’m right here.” Still lost in subspace, you didn’t understand the silly question.

“That you are, love, my bad,” he said, kissing your hands. “I love you so much, little one, you did so well for us.”

“You really did,” Sirius agreed from behind you, “such a good girl.”

“Thank you daddy,” you said, feeling yourself become shy at their kind words.

“Let’s get some rest,” James said, moving you from Sirius’ lap and pulling you into his body. Your hands instinctively went around his neck, fingers burying themselves in soft locks of messy hair.

“Love you daddies,” you said, contently, before you fell asleep in the arms of your lovers.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 54: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

It was home away from home to Sirius. All the mischief they'd managed in this place. The first time they'd been in here was when Remus dragged them out of bed to tell his darkest secret, then they'd spent the following years performing their illegal animagus practice in these dusty walls when it wasn't being occupied by said werewolf until they could finally join him. They'd drawn up their map, concocted their pranks, and now it was tarnished forever as he looked upon one of his best friends as an accused traitor by none other than himself.

The upholstery was uglier than her great Aunt Delilah's. It did have the same stain across the back, as if Petunia had accidentally splashed this one with juice as well and blamed her. Instead of smelling of cigars from her father though, it held a faint tint of metal, and the arm of one was torn right off, age-old stuffing long having fallen free.

In fact, amidst the dust clotting her nose she could swear the whole place smelled faintly of blood. A scream of surprise lodged in her throat as she scrambled to her feet and spun on the spot, the muted chaos growing the longer she looked for it.

She was in a very old living room that upon first glance just seemed unlived in but fully furnished. The other bits of furniture were all almost cleanly snapped in half, as if something very large had flown right through them without care. A table leg and been snapped right off and lay on the opposite side of the room, and that was the largest bit of splinters. There was no door visible, but a used patch of earth in the floor gave her the wild guess she'd find yet another secret entrance back to where they'd just been in if she cared to look. A rickety staircase trailed above to parts she had no wish to explore. "What do you think's happening up there?" She asked quietly. She'd never wanted to draw the Marauders attention before, but now for a whole other reason.

"I'd say we've seen them worse lately," Alice tried to say optimistically, "hopefully their hashing out this as well, and ah-" Her words were cut off by a great slamming noise above, and she winced and fell silent.

Regulus wasn't going to wait around any more. He'd been left out of enough of his brother's life, and even if he had to barge into this private moment he wasn't going to miss anything else. Despite his determination, his hand stilled on the door though as he realized he couldn't hear any shouting as he would have expected. The silence scared him far more. Ignoring the shrieking of the wind around them and the old house creaking in tune, he furrowed his brow in concentration to try and hear if he should in fact back off.

Then the book continued in Sirius' voice, which didn't necessarily mean that a resolution had been found without somebody's death. Still, he hesitated right outside the door, just in case.

It went against Sirius' better nature not to be doing something more than reading a bloody book, but the more reasonable half of his mind (that sounded oddly like Remus before he'd even spoken it) said to hear every last word of explanation before doing anything rash. After all, he'd spent ages now being accused of a crime none of his friends had believed possible, he'd never dream of doing the same to one of his best mates.

In the heavy silence that had followed this mutual, unstated decision, he'd summoned the book to him. It seemed to sail up from behind the mangled mattress along with a new cloud of dust that didn't even have a chance to settle back down before the termite-ridden fourposter crashed around it. The place wasn't exactly well cared for in their time, but it must have gotten even worse once the Marauders vacated it after school. They certainly wouldn't let Moony sleep his full moon's off in here, let alone Madam Pomfrey.

Memories they were all clinging too even before Sirius started with the chapter title, small but genuine smiles for their nicknames being shared, just the four of them once more.

In a fit of desperation to keep this story private, knowing even those in here could hear it, he began aiming every spell he could think of to the book to reveal past this part.

"Sirius," Remus tried to tell him otherwise, but he wouldn't quite look at him as he snapped, "I already know your life story! I did my waiting, twelve years of it, in Azkaban!"

"Sirius, you haven't been to Azkaban yet-"

"Shut up!"

Remus gave in with an amused shake of his head, finally letting Padfoot run out of steam and admit defeat before finally going in an almost casual sort of way. He hoped it would last and whatever was keeping the others down there would last, he didn't want an audience for whatever happened next.

Harry at least got right to the point of the major problem Sirius had just accused, wasn't Peter dead in this future?

Sirius was not doing a very good job of explaining himself, and James fought back the urge to put his best mate in a headlock for trying to brush past the valid question by just killing a pet rat!

Remus recoiled in shocked disgust at himself for clearly having truly believed Sirius had done all this in the future, something he hadn't wanted to think on before now. It just couldn't be true, he'd never believe it of Padfoot anymore than Wormtail... He listened in strained hoped as he tried to remain the voice of reason and insist Harry hear all the facts first, but what would be at the end of that story?

Peter listened in strained silence as the books choice of words reverberated around the room. His heart felt like it was being twisted beyond recognition at the way none of them could quite look him in the eye, at how far apart they were suddenly all standing from each other as the new accusation settled around them. He didn't want to believe it, he would never! Not to his friends, not to James!

The Marauders were hardly distracted by Moony starting the story, from the very beginning. There was a single moment of worry between the four, but they all knew it had already been confirmed down in the tunnel. They'd been so in each other's business they'd barely taken the time to even assess what the others thought of it, but then they all agreed, they didn't care.

This is what mattered to them right now, how their lives had affected their future, not their past. If, even if the worst was true, James tried to shudder away from the thought but braved in in the filled silence, the worst had happened and one of them had betrayed he still held firmly to the adamant promise he'd made to Sirius this was not their future! Was it inevitable though?

Remus was starting to wish they had taken this downstairs to where everyone else was. Sirius' voice had eased out somewhat while talking of Remus' past, it was after all something he knew all too well. The Wolfsbane potion was news to him, alleviated some of their previous worries just what he and Snape were doing, but now that made some sort of sense at least.

He would have liked to see how the others were taking to it though, how people that weren't his best friends would look at him with a cure in sight. Would Evans' suspicions about him alleviate any? Would Longbottom still back away in horror?

They, in fact, were not missing the Marauder's company at all. The three had taken careful seats upon the cushions, hoping moths were the only thing biting their surroundings lately. Alice was sitting between them, crossing and uncrossing her ankles with every unsavory groan the couch made. They'd all remained quiet for the most part as Lupin recounted his life. She wasn't sure what they were waiting to happen, or even what would.

Potter's three best friends were all up there, all apparently having been living a lie the past twelve years and it was all coming out now. She pitied them, though she kept trying to think of some kinder way to tell them this awful news and was coming up blank. Probably best then, that they stay out of it as long as possible.

Frank still looked like he was going to be sick, he hadn't so much as sat down, but squatted over his perch, rubbing his palms together with a wild look in his eyes. Lily simply had a gobsmacked look on her face and was sunk so deep into the upholstery it would take another leap through the space-time to get her out. She decided to focus on Frank first, that didn't look comfortable.

"Frank, love, won't you tell me what's really bothering you?"

"Isn't being in the den of a werewolf enough?" He yelped, eyeing her as if she were the one trapped in a spot of madness. He rubbed his hands together even harder, muttering about werewolf saliva sinking in straight through his skin. "I got nicked last week in Transfiguration, remember? I didn't go to Madam Pomfrey to get it fixed because it was just a scratch, but-"

"I'm sorry I called your mom a paranoid git," Alice kindly interrupted, "but honestly love, you can't believe every horrible rumor you've heard without proof-"

"Sev was right."

Alice turned curiously to her to see what she meant, but her eyes were vacant. She was speaking as if to a ghost.

"He was right about everything, they have been sneaking off, his, his theories I always scoffed at-"

"Lily?" Alice placed a kind hand on her shoulder, shaking her a bit to get her attention.

"Those- Potter and his friends-"

Alice could see a fire starting to burn in her, build in her, but then the book reverberated her friends into this future, as Severus Snape interrupted the proceedings.

[avengerscompound]

Like Rabbits - Chapter 9

Like Rabbits:  A Black Widow/WinterHawk Fanfic

Masterlist // PREVIOUS

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Rating: E Square:  None

Word Count:  1790

Warnings:  Pregnancy stuff, smut (F|F, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, car sex)

Synopsis:  While you and Natasha are contemplating starting a family together, Bucky and Clint are doing the exact same thing.  So two couples go take the same path to parenthood together.

A/N: This is a Natasha/Reader chapter.

Chapter 9

After the initial few doctor's appointments where you were told you were going to be monitored a little more closely due to the higher risk of twins and the purchasing of all the things you needed such as anti-nausea medication, everything settled down a lot.  You weren’t showing yet, so there was no visible sign that you were pregnant other than the nausea which you were taking the medication to keep control over it, it wasn’t even bothering you that much.

So you, Natasha, Bucky, and Clint went about trying to find the perfect home for you all to raise your kids.

Initially there had been some toying with the idea of buying the lower level of a brownstone and renovating so instead of two apartments it was one that connected through the back and had access to the yard, but aside from the cost, it didn’t quite feel right.  The four of you looked at townhouses in Brooklyn and houses in New Jersey.  Jersey started to look closer to what you all wanted.  There were houses listed that were affordable and could possibly be worked into the design where each couple had their own private spaces but the kid's bedrooms were at a halfway point that allowed them to go between both.  Bucky wouldn’t have it though.  He said you might as well kill him if you were gonna force him to live in Jersey.

The farm idea was looking very tempting.  It would mean a huge lifestyle change though.  The farm was pretty far from the city.  If any of you wanted to keep Avenging there would need to be something worked out with Steve so that you weren’t always commuting in all the time.  Clint was the closest to being a country boy and even he never lived on a farm.  There was a big learning curve.

After browsing real estate listings and Clint getting excited about every single one, the four of you had started taking trips out to the country to look at real estate.  They were fun expeditions and you were glad you were making them before you got so big that the babies were sitting on your bladder.

It turned out looking at houses was quite fun too.  It was exciting to go through and have Clint tell you how he could knock down one wall or put up another.  How he could picture where the second kitchen would go and how he could strip the floors and polish them.  You liked walking the grounds with Bucky and having him tell you about where he’d put up the target range and where he’d keep his goats he was planning on getting.  Natasha liked to make claims on bedrooms and tell you how she’d change a bathroom so it could fit a big clawfoot tub that she was determined to have.

You’d seen about 6 houses now, but none were quite right.  Whether that be their distance to a decent school.  Or their lack of bathrooms which would make the renovation that much more expensive.  You were all getting to the point of admitting defeat and just buying a parcel of land and building from scratch.  It was debatable whether it would be more expensive that way or not, but at least you’d start off with exactly what you were looking for.

There was just one more that you’d been drooling over in the listings.  Not too far from a town, with a pool and lots of bedrooms and bathrooms.  It was even in the budget you had leaving enough for renovations.

Natasha pulled her car into the drive, followed by Clint and Bucky.  “We’ll have to change the color.”  She said as she put it into park.

“You don’t like blue?”  You asked.

She shook her head.  “Not that shade.  Not for a house.”

“Well, paint is the easy bit.”  You said getting out.

A woman came out of the house and introduced herself as the estate agent.  You had met so many now that you didn’t take note of her name.  She gave you a quick rundown.  Five bedroom, four bath, pool, formal lounge and dining, carriage house that can be renovated, barn, turn of the century.  You all listened on while pretending to look at cornicing and room size.  When she said she’d leave you all to look around, you finally started to look around properly.

“With the way, it’s laid out, formal lounge, dining room on one side, family room and kitchen nook on the other, if we just split the kitchen in two we have two completely separate living spaces,” Clint said as the four of you walked through the kitchen.

“The kitchen is definitely big enough for that too,” Bucky said running his hand over the floating counter.  “It’d cost less not having to put new plumbing and gas to a whole new area.”

“Be a little bit of a shame to lose this space,” you said.  “But it is definitely big enough.”

“Let’s go check out upstairs,”  Natasha said.

The four of you went back to the entrance and started your way up the spiral staircase.  “This will be the tricky bit.  I’ll have to pull this out and put in two new landings but we have time.  We can share for a bit.”  Clint said.

You reached the landing and you and Natasha went left to the turret while Clint and Bucky looked at the other rooms.  “Oh, this is our room.  She said going straight to the bay windows and looking out at the grounds.”

You moved up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist.  “I really like this one.”  You whispered.

“Mmm it looks good so far,” Natasha agreed.  “We can get a fourposter bed.  Imagine that.  Like actual princesses.”

You giggled and kissed the side of Natasha’s neck.  “Since when did you want to be a princess?”

Natasha turned in your arms and wrapped her arms around your waist.  “All that decadence and people to give you pedicures?  What’s not to love?”

“You dork.”  You teased and she kissed you deeply, pulling herself flush against you.

Bucky and Clint chose that moment to come into the room.   “This place is really laid out perfectly,”  Clint said, not waiting for you and Natasha to stop kissing.

Natasha pulled back and looked at him.  “How so?”

“The two bedrooms at the front of the house are much larger and have their own bathrooms.  The three at the back are smaller and share one,” Clint explained.  “It’s almost designed to be split into two.  It’s almost like a duplex that was shoved back together.”

“I think this might be it,”  Bucky said.

“Then let’s make an offer,”  Natasha said.

The four of you went back downstairs and filled out some paperwork.  You got into the car with Natasha buzzing with excitement.  “You think they’ll accept it?”  You asked.

“I think so.  It’s been on the market for a while and we offered asking,”  Natasha said.  “I don’t think it’ll be long before we’re moving in.”

You leaned in and kissed her neck.  “I’m so excited.  We can paint the kid’s rooms with murals.”

“We should ask Steve to do it.  I bet he would.”  Natasha hummed.

You put your hand on her thigh and kissed the side of her neck.  “I’m so excited.”

She chucked and caressed your jaw as she kept her focus on the road.  “I can tell.”

“Are you?”  You asked as you walked your fingers up her thigh.

“Yes, zaika,” she smirked.  “You seem to be extra excited though.”

“I am,” you whispered.  You nipped at her earlobe and slipped your hand into her yoga pants.

“Cheeky girl.”  She teased.  “Should I be pulling the car over?”

“Mmm, that might be a good idea.”  You hummed as you teased your fingers over her cunt.

She continued driving for a little while.  As she did you kissed her neck and ran your finger in tight circles over her clit.  It didn’t break her focus.  You wondered if there was anything that could really.

She pulled the car down a dirt side road and switched off the engine.  “Alright, my bad girl.  What are we going to do with you?”

She unclipped her seatbelt and climbed over the center console so she was straddling your lap.  You looked up at her, practically buzzing under her.  She leaned in and kissed you deeply, her thigh pushing against your cunt.  You ground against it, letting your arousal grow and seep from you.

As you kissed and ground against each other, you slipped your hand into her pants again.  Your fingers slid up and down her slicked folds, teasing her entrance and then dancing over her clit.  She mimicked your movements, her hand slipping up under your skirt and teasing your cunt.  When you thrust two fingers into her she thrust two into you.

You broke the kiss with a gasp and she looked down at you with the most intense expression on her face you’d ever seen.  It was like she was staring right into you.  She continued to mimic your movements.  When you curled your fingers she curled hers.  When you rubbed her clit with your thumb, her thumb rubbed against yours.  You began to move your hands in just the ways you liked best.  Seeking out her g-spot and stroking your fingers over it.  Corkscrewing your wrist and scissoring your fingers inside her, running your thumb over her clit in tighter and tighter circles.

The two of you began breathing heavily as you brought each other undone.  The whole time you kept your eyes locked together.  It was like you were trapped in the intensity of her gaze.  Her green eyes bore into you and you seemed to be timing your breathing with hers.

“Gonna come for me, zaika?”  She purred as she moved her fingers in your cunt.

“Are you?”  You breathed, matching her pace.

“Together then?”  She purred.

You gave a short nod and sped up your fingers.  Thrust and drag.  Thrust and drag.  Again and again over the spongy surface of her g-spot.  Your thumb rolled over her clit.  She did the same to you and almost at once you both bucked against each other and came.  “Fuck!”  You cried simultaneously.

She pulled her hand free and leaned in and kissed you passionately.  You slipped your hand free and wrapped your arms around her, returning the kiss.  Slowly she pulled back and climbed back into the driver’s seat.  “Now, zaika,” Natasha said, starting the car.  “If that’s how we celebrate making an offer, imagine how it will be when they accept it.”

You hummed, bucking back up and leaning against her shoulder.  “I can’t wait.”

// NEXT

[arysafics]

you remind me of where i come from

Summary:  Clarke takes Bellamy to her hometown to meet her family for the first time.

Prompt:  Bellamy using a vibrator on Clarke, preferably in an established relationship but whatever I just love the idea of him being so happy and excited about having a new way to make her come.

Rated E, ~4.9k words

Clarke isn’t freaking out at all. At least, she doesn’t think her freaking out is noticeable to Bellamy. She hopes it isn’t, because if he thinks she’s freaking out, then he might freak out too and there’s nothing to freak out about. Probably. It’s just, she hasn’t brought anyone home to meet her parents since Lexa, and that hadn’t turned out so well. For anyone.

“Dad is going to make us sleep in separate bedrooms, just so you know,” Clarke says. They’ve been driving for four hours, and Clarke has only now realised what she needs to prepare Bellamy for. She’d been calm until five minutes ago, when she started recognising the familiar landmarks that indicate they’re close to her hometown. Now she’s a mix of excitement and nerves, knowing her parents are going to love Bellamy, desperate to show him this part of her he’s heard about but not seen. And yet there’s also a little ball of anxiety in her stomach that she can’t quite shake.

“And he’ll probably get all weird and protective, but that means he likes you. And if Mom cooks, you don’t have to pretend to like it. She likes to experiment, but she’s not very good at it. And she might get all weirdly emotional when she meets you. But don’t worry—”

“Clarke,” Bellamy interrupts, gently. “Stop.”

“Sorry,” she grimaces. “I’m scaring you off.”

Bellamy laughs. “You’re not scaring me off,” he assures her. “You’re just freaking out. It’s going to be fine.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Clarke lies. Okay, so maybe she’s not being as subtle about her emotional state as she thought.

“Then why are you gripping the steering wheel so tightly?” Bellamy points out. Clarke loosens her grip, and Bellamy reaches out to grab her hand.

“Sorry,” Clarke sighs. “It’s not that I don’t think they’re going to love you. I know they’re going to love you. And I’m really excited to show you where I’m from, but—”

“You’re nervous.”

“Yeah,” Clarke whispers.

“It’s okay, I get it,” he says. “It’s a big step.”

Clarke looks over at him, swallowing. It’s not just that it’s a big step. It doesn’t even really feel like a big step. It feels completely natural, bringing him home to meet her parents. But there’s this part of her that knows that if she fucks things up somehow, or if he leaves her, then this is all for nothing. She’s letting him into her life, really letting him in. Trusting him not to break her heart.

He knows about Lexa, of course. He knows about all her exes. Knows so much more about her than almost anyone else, and they’ve only been dating six months. How anyone could learn her so fast, she doesn’t know. Only knows that with him, everything feels right. And that’s why she desperately needs this to work out.

He strokes the back of her hand with his thumb, and she feels some semblance of relief. She’s so lucky to have him.

“Thank you,” she whispers. I love you, she thinks. She hasn’t quite got to saying it out loud yet, but she thinks he knows. Just as she knows he loves her too. But he won’t say it until she does. He doesn’t want to pressure her.

Still, this trip is a pretty big clue to how she feels about him. She’s been imagining him meeting her parents since day one, like some part of her just knew he was it. She’s probably been in love with him that long too. She’s pretty sure the words are going to slip off her tongue at any moment. Her feelings are too tremendous, too forceful to be able to hold back much longer. It’s terrifying.

They pass a sign that reads Welcome to Franklin, and Clarke feels Bellamy squeeze her hand. She knows these roads like the back of her hand, used to drive around with Wells in the passenger seat, acting like they were so fucking cool. Every little detail of this town is a familiar, comforting sight.

“That’s where I went to high school,” Clarke points out as they drive past.

“I’m imagining you walking around in your little cheerleading outfit,” Bellamy says, giving her a wink.

“Stop it,” Clarke says affectionately. “You’re not allowed to get horny, because I can’t do anything about it while we’re here.”

“Right, separate bedrooms,” Bellamy remembers. “We’re going to have a lot of catching up to do when we get home.”

Clarke grins. “That can be arranged.”

She idles around the streets a little more, pointing out places of interest, thrilled with Bellamy’s rapt attention as he drinks in every little piece of information about her.

She’s more relaxed when she finally pulls up in her parents’ driveway. She glances at Bellamy, and he’s gazing up at the house. He swallows. Now he seems nervous.

“Are you okay?” Clarke asks.

“Uh huh,” Bellamy says. “Just—seems a lot more real than it did five minutes ago. I don’t think I’ve ever been so worried about someone’s opinion of me.” He looks to Clarke. “Apart from you.”

“They’re a lot easier to please than I am,” Clarke assures him.

They get out of the car, and Clarke takes Bellamy’s hand as they ascend the front steps. Clarke turns the front door handle.

“Shouldn’t we ring the doorbell?” Bellamy whispers. Clarke raises an eyebrow at him, amused, and he grimaces, realising he’s being ridiculous.

“Mom!” Clarke calls, as they step inside. “Dad! I’m home!”

They appear, seemingly out of nowhere. Clarke has no doubt they’ve been lurking, waiting for her to arrive.

“You made it,” Abby says, pulling her daughter into a hug, forcing her to let go of Bellamy’s hand.

“I was just showing Bellamy around town a bit,” Clarke says as Abby pulls away. “Hi, Dad,” she says, turning to her father, who also gives her a hug.

“Hey, Sweetie,” says Jake.

“And this must be the famous Bellamy,” Abby says, and both parents turn to him, standing a little awkwardly in their front foyer. Clarke stifles a laugh at Bellamy’s bemused expression as Abby pulls him into a hug as well. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Griffin,” Bellamy says. Clarke has already told him a hundred times to call her parents by their first names, but he stubbornly disagreed. “Mr Griffin.” Jake holds out his hand and Bellamy shakes it firmly. Jake gives him a nod, and Clarke supposes her dad approves of her boyfriend’s handshake.

“You too, Bellamy.”

“And it’s Abby and Jake, please,” Abby adds.

Clarke gives Bellamy a triumphant I told you so look, and he rolls his eyes.

“Jake, why don’t you go and grab their bags, and I’ll show Bellamy his room?”

Jake gives Bellamy a grin. “Be careful, these Griffin women only marry so they can use their husbands for manual labour.”

Abby gives Jake a playful slap, while Clarke feels her face turning the colour of beetroot. Leave it to her father to bring up marriage at the first opportunity. Bellamy doesn’t seem to notice.

“Trust me, I know,” Bellamy grins back. “Clarke bought all her new furniture from Ikea, then conveniently wasn’t around to build it herself.”

Clarke pouts, looking at her mom for back up, but Abby just shrugs. “Shall we go upstairs?”

She leads them to the guest bedroom, well, one of them. The bigger of the two.

“Bellamy, this is your room,” Abby says, opening the door. She glances at him. “Sorry you and Clarke can’t share. Jake just feels weird about it. It’s not that he’s against sex before marriage or anything, I think he just doesn’t like the idea of his daughter doing it.”

“It’s okay,” Bellamy says. He’s taking all this remarkably well. In fact, Clarke thinks he finds the whole thing amusing.

“Jake will be up in a minute with your bags. We thought we’d go out for dinner tonight, is that alright?”

“Fine, Mom,” Clarke says. She’s just thankful they won’t be subjected to one of her mother’s weird concoctions.

“I was asking Bellamy.”

Bellamy chuckles. “Sounds great,” he agrees. Abby nods, pleased, then leaves them to it.

“Come on, I’ll show you my room,” Clarke says, as soon as her mother is out of earshot. It’s the room next to his.

Her room hasn’t changed at all since she was a teenager. Almost everything in it is pink, and Clarke can tell Bellamy thinks it’s hilarious from the grin on his face. He wanders around, studying the trinkets on the vanity, the books on the shelves, the posters and photos on the walls. He stops by the fourposter bed, fingering the gauzy pink curtains.

“Your bedroom looks like a princess’s bedroom,” he says. “A ten-year-old princess.”

“I liked pink,” Clarke says defensively.

“I can see that.” He eyes her, and Clarke tilts her head, wondering what’s going through his mind. “You know what would be really fun?” he says, reaching for her. Clarke takes his hand, and he pulls her close.

“What?” Clarke asks.

Bellamy presses his lips to her ear. “Fucking you in this princess bed. In your childhood bedroom.”

Clarke’s breath hitches, and she instinctively presses herself closer to him. Bellamy’s lips trails down her ear and across her jawline, until he reaches her mouth. His grips her in his arms tightly.

“We can’t,” Clarke whispers against his kiss, though her pussy is telling her they can, and should, right now.

Bellamy pulls his lips away from hers. “Does your dad seriously think you’re still a virgin?”

“I don’t think he wants to think about it.”

“Do you think we’ll be allowed to sleep in the same bed once we’re married?” Bellamy jokes. Clarke’s eyes widen, and she gapes at him. Bellamy’s grin drops as he realises what he’s said. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean—I meant, you know. If—”

“Here’s your bag, pumpkin,” Jake’s voice interrupts. Clarke whips her head around. Her heart is beating even faster than when Bellamy was whispering in her ear how he’d like to fuck her in her childhood bed. He wants to marry her. He’s thought about it. Clarke can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Bellamy, I put your bag in your room,” Jake continues. “You guys can freshen up and get changed before we go out, if you like.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Thanks, Jake.”

Jake leaves the room, but Clarke notices he keeps the door wide open. She can only be glad he hadn’t walked in thirty seconds earlier.

“Clarke, what I said before—” Bellamy says, anxious.

“It’s okay,” Clarke cuts him off. She beams up at his wary expression.

“It is?”

Clarke nods. She surges up to kiss him, feeling giddy. When she pulls away, Bellamy looks a little dazed.

“Go get ready to go out,” Clarke says, pushing him towards the door.

“Okay,” Bellamy says, he looks back at her, a bewildered smile on his face as he shuts the door behind him.

 -

 When they arrive at the restaurant, a server leads them to their table, and sitting there already are Wells and Thelonius Jaha.

“Wells!” Clarke exclaims, as her best friend stands up to hug her. “Mom didn’t say you guys were coming.”

“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Wells grins, pulling away. He glances over her shoulder at Bellamy. “This is the boyfriend, huh?”

“Bellamy,” Bellamy offers, holding out his hand. Wells ignores Bellamy’s outstretched arm and pulls him into a hug instead.

“This is Wells,” Clarke tells Bellamy. “My best friend.”

“I’ve heard all about you,” Wells teases.

Bellamy glances at Clarke, amused, before looking back to Wells. “And I’ve heard all about you.”

“Sit down, you three,” Abby scolds.

The three of them take their places, and the waiter brings them water and tells them about the specials. Thelonius launches into some long, boring anecdote, and Clarke takes the opportunity to peruse the menu. Out the corner of her eye, she sees Bellamy slip his hand under the table, holding his palm open, and she does the same without a second thought, taking his hand in hers.

When Thelonius is finally finished his tale, the entire table takes to questioning Bellamy. It’s not mean-spirited, it’s genuine questions about his life, about wanting to get to know him better. But at the same time, it’s a lot. Clarke squeezes his hand, letting him know he’s handling the onslaught well. He smiles at her, glancing down at their joined hands. Wells notices.

“Are you guys holding hands?” he says. “Cute.”

They both blush, as Wells laughs at them, but neither of them let go until the food comes and they have to.

After dinner, Jake drags Bellamy to the bar, and Wells tags along, leaving Abby, Clarke and Thelonius at the table. Clarke watches the men at the bar nervously, though Bellamy doesn’t look like he’s in any trouble. He glances over at her and gives her a smile to show he’s okay.

“What do you think they’re saying to him?” Clarke asks her mom.

“They’re probably trying to determine if his taste in whiskey is adequate,” Abby says. “I wouldn’t worry. They aren’t going to do anything to try and sabotage your relationship.”

“Hold on to that one,” Thelonius advises. “You’re lucky to have him. What you two have is rare.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, and Abby bites back a laugh. Thelonius and his sage advice to the rescue as usual.

Bellamy, Jake, and Wells eventually return to the table, and Bellamy is grinning from ear to ear. Which is a good sign, Clarke supposes. She wants to grill him about what her Dad and her best friend said to him, but it will probably have to wait until the drive home. They’re unlikely to get a proper moment alone together while they’re here.

Abby, Jake, and Thelonius argue about who is going to pay for dinner, and Abby ends up winning. Wells grabs Clarke by the arm as they exit the restaurant, while Bellamy is distracted by another of Thelonius’s pieces of wisdom.

“I think you got a good one this time,” Wells whispers.

Clarke glances at Bellamy. “I know.”

“Okay, we really should get going, Thelonius,” Abby hints, and Wells drops Clarke’s arm.

“I’m really happy for you,” he says, stepping over to stand by his father.

“Of course,” Thelonius says in response to Abby. “Goodnight all. Good to see you all again. Nice to meet you, Bellamy.”

In the car on the way home, Clarke leans up against Bellamy in the backseat, his hand on her knee. She feels like she could doze off on his shoulder, her eyelids are so heavy. The long drive, the big dinner, and all the excitement of introducing Bellamy to her parents has finally gotten to her.

Jake pulls the car into the driveway, and Bellamy presses a kiss to the top of Clarke’s head.

“You want me to carry you inside?” he whispers.

Clarke shakes her head. She does want him to carry her inside, but not in front of her parents. They’ve already been affectionate enough with each other, much more so than Clarke ever was with Lexa in public. In private, even. But Clarke just can’t seem to stop herself with Bellamy. It’s like she just needs to be touching him in some way at all times. Not necessarily in a sexual way, but his touch always makes her feel better, more at ease.

He helps her out of the car, and they follow Abby and Jake into the house. It’s late, and Abby and Jake head straight to their room after a quick goodnight. Clarke hovers outside Bellamy’s room. She hates having to leave him. She wants to whisper in the dark with him about her family, and Wells, and how ridiculous Thelonius is. She wants to ask him what Wells and her dad said to him at the bar. And most of all she wants him to fuck her nice and slow, then spoon her until they fall asleep.

Instead she says, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Bellamy returns. He crowds her against the wall next to the guestroom door, takes her face in his hands, then slips his tongue into her mouth, kissing her until her head spins with desire. He pulls away, and Clarke rubs a finger across her bottom lip subconsciously. “Something to think about,” he winks, then retreats into his bedroom.

Clarke slinks off to her own room, lips still swollen from his kiss. She gets into her pyjamas, brushes her teeth, then slides into bed. Though she’d been seconds from sleep only twenty minutes earlier, now she feels wide awake. She can’t stop thinking about the kiss Bellamy just gave her, and how she wishes they could have kept going. Her thoughts stray to the things he’d said earlier, about fucking her in this bed, in her childhood bedroom. She’s never had sex in here before, hadn’t lost her virginity until her first year of college.

Her cunt throbs, and she pushes her hand into her pyjama shorts, then slips a finger into her slit. Fuck, she’s soaking wet. She groans, burying her head into her pillow. Stupid Bellamy, making her all horny at the worst possible times. Part of her wants to sneak into his room and beg him to fuck her, screw what her Dad says. Her parents never have to know.

Instead, she rolls out of bed and rummages around in her overnight bag, pulling out her little bullet vibrator that she’d brought with her, just in case. She’s had plenty of practice keeping quiet in this house while she masturbates. It won’t take her long, and then she’ll be able to sleep.

She hops back into bed, and just as she does, the door to her bedroom opens. Instinctively, her hand curls around the vibrator under the covers. It’s small enough that it’s hidden in her fist.

Bellamy closes the door behind him, and pads over to her bed, getting in beside her. He has the look of a naughty schoolboy on his face.

“What are you doing?” Clarke asks him. “I told you, we can’t have sex.”

“I just want to talk to you,” he says. “I missed you. We haven’t talked properly since we got here.”

Clarke smiles. Her heart swells at the knowledge that he feels the same way she does.

They lie face to face in the dark, Clarke still hiding the vibrator in her palm. If he finds out she brought it, and was about to use it, he’ll tease her about it until the end of eternity.

“Do you like my parents?” Clarke asks.

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. “And I think they like me, right?”

“Yes,” Clarke grins. Their voices are hushed, their face lit only by the moonlight streaming in through Clarke’s bedroom window.

“They kind of feel like family already. Like I’ve known them forever. Wells too.”

“Not Thelonius?”

“He’s, uh—”

Clarke bursts into laughter and Bellamy snorts. It goes without saying that Thelonius is one of the weirdest guys on the planet.

“What did Dad and Wells say to you? When they dragged you off to the bar?”

“That’s top-secret men’s business.”

“Bellamy! I’m your girlfriend. Your loyalty is to me.”

“What about the bro code?”

“I know you don’t believe in the bro code.”

Bellamy smiles. “They basically told me if I ever broke your heart, they would hunt me down and kill me, if you didn’t do it first.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Talk about toxic masculinity.”

Bellamy pauses, brushing her hair from her face. “They also said they’d never seen you so happy,” he says, his voice dropping even lower. “And your dad was crying a bit.”

“You’re making that up.”

“I’m not.”

Clarke bites her lip. “They’re right, you know,” she admits. “I’ve never been so happy.”

“Me too,” Bellamy murmurs. He leans forward to press a kiss on the bridge of her nose. “I love you,” he says quietly, brushing his nose against hers.

Clarke’s stomach flips over, and her heart skitters. She swallows. “I thought you were waiting for me to say it first.”

“I was,” he says. “But I couldn’t help it any longer. It’s okay if you don’t say it back. I just wanted you to know that.”

Tears brim in her eyes. She’s been in love before, of course. But not like this. Not in a way that feels so hopeful, so good, so pure. She thought her love for Lexa would drown her, but Bellamy’s love is her fucking lifeboat. Lexa was like the moon, dark, and mysterious and captivating. Bellamy is the sun, and she wants to bask in his glow forever.

“I love you too,” she says, and it’s so much easier to say than she thought it would be.

“Yeah?” Bellamy grins.

“Yeah,” Clarke says. “I love you so much, it terrified me. That’s why I didn’t say it. But I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

“I’m not scared either,” Bellamy says. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”  He kisses her, and Clarke is pretty sure she’s crying, or maybe the tears she can taste are his. Bellamy reaches for her, and he grabs her hand in his, forcing her to open her fist. He pauses and pulls away from her.

“What’s this?” he asks, taking the vibrator from her hand and pulling it out from under the covers. “Did you bring a toy?” he asks, teasing.

“Maybe.”

“So much for not getting horny, huh?”

“Shut up, it’s your fault,” Clarke says, slapping him playfully.

“Oh yeah?” he teases. “You’ve been thinking about me, have you? You all wet for me?”

Clarke nods. “Can’t stop thinking about you fucking me in this bed.”

Bellamy rolls over so he’s on top of her, and he kisses her, making her forget for a moment why he’s not supposed to be in here, why they’re not supposed to do this. “Bellamy, we can’t,” she whimpers against his mouth. It’s one thing to be quiet when she’s only pleasuring herself, but if Bellamy is involved, she knows she’ll have no control over what comes out of her mouth.

“We’re not going to,” Bellamy whispers back. “It doesn’t count if I just use this,” he says with a wolfish grin, holding up her vibrator. He slips his hand into her pyjama shorts and slides the vibrator between her wet folds, slicking it up with her arousal, before her presses the button on the end to turn it on. Clarke jumps at the sudden buzz between her legs.

Bellamy throws back the covers and shimmies down, so he’s eye-level with her crotch, edging her shorts down as he goes, keeping the vibrator softly buzzing just inside her pussy lips. It’s not enough to make her feel much yet, other than anticipation for what’s to come.

“How many settings does this thing have?” Bellamy asks.

“I think six.”

“You think?”

“Definitely six.”

Bellamy presses the button again, and the buzzing gets a little more intense. The vibrator glides between her folds as he drags it up towards her clit. He circles the sensitive bud, and Clarke squirms as the vibration pulses through her. He presses the tip of the vibrator to her clit, just for a moment and she gasps. He pulls away again, chuckling.

He holds the vibrator up in his hand, clicking the button, testing each of the settings. The first three just get more intense, while the next three change it up a little, alternating pulsing and buzzing in three different ways.

“This is fun, why haven’t we done this before?” Bellamy says, putting it back on the second highest setting, then sinking it into her cunt. It’s too small to do much, but she moans anyway. “Shh,” he hushes her. “You have to be quiet. Or your parents will hear you.”

Clarke shakes her head. “I can’t.” Bellamy turns the vibrator up, then edges it back up her slit towards her clit. She whimpers. He holds the vibrator to her clit, and her orgasm builds fast. She pants as she gets close, right to the edge, then he pulls away again. She whines, and he laughs.

“You’re such an asshole,” Clarke says, on the verge of tears. Her cunt is throbbing, her thighs and his fingers coated in her arousal.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Bellamy coos. “I’m only teasing.”

“I need to come, Bell. Please.”

“Only if you’re quiet.”

Clarke nods. “I’ll try.”

Bellamy circles her clit with the vibrator again, once, twice, then a third time, winding her up again. She already knows she’s failing at being quiet. It feels too good, and she’s too desperate. The vibrator hits her clit again.

“Bellamy,” she moans. “Please. Oh my god. I’m so close. Don’t stop, Bell, please don’t stop.”

“Shh,” he says, half laughing. He puts his big hand over her mouth, covering half her face, just as she comes, muffling the cry that escapes her mouth. He keeps the vibrator against her clit as she comes, until she shoves his hand away, the sensation too much for her sensitive clit.

“You okay?” he whispers.

Clarke nods. “Do you think they heard?” she asks. God, she doesn’t know if she could bear it if her parents heard her screaming her boyfriend’s name in pleasure.

“No,” Bellamy says. “I would have been chased out of here with a pitchfork by now.”

Clarke laughs, and Bellamy kisses her, swallowing her laugh. “You have to get out of here and go back to your own room.”

“I seriously need to jerk off after that,” he mutters.

“No masturbating in my parents’ house.”

“Oh, but you’re allowed to?”

“I can’t risk you getting come all over the guest bedroom sheets.”

“Fuck,” Bellamy groans. “I’m so fucking hard.”

“I know,” Clarke whispers, stroking his cock through his boxers. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. On the way home. I’ll suck you off while you drive.”

Bellamy groans again. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke laughs, only a tiny bit apologetic.

“It’s okay,” Bellamy says, kissing her again. “It was worth it.”

Clarke smiles. “Get out of here before my dad catches you.”

Bellamy scrambles to his feet, and tucks her back into bed. He kisses her on the head.

“I love you,” Clarke whispers as he leaves.

“I love you too.”

 -

 Clarke creeps into Bellamy’s room the next morning, knowing her parents are probably already up. Bellamy is awake already, reading the book he brought with him.

“Good morning,” Clarke says, crawling onto the bed beside him. She gives him a quick peck.

“Morning,” Bellamy murmurs back.

“We better get up or Mom will come looking for us.”

Bellamy puts on a shirt and some pants before heading downstairs, but Clarke doesn’t bother to change out of her pyjamas. Abby is in the kitchen, an array of breads, spreads, and cereals on the counter in front of her.

“Good morning, you two,” she says. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“She’s just doing this for your benefit, you know,” Clarke says to Bellamy. “Even as a teenager if I asked what was for breakfast, she would just tell me it was whatever I made for myself.”

“I’ll enjoy in while it lasts then,” Bellamy grins.

“Where’s Dad?” Clarke asks, looking around the kitchen like he might appear at any minute.

“Uh—” Abby hesitates. She glances between Clarke and Bellamy, as if deciding whether to tell them or not. “I think he just needs—a little time.”

“A little time?” Clarke swallows, dread pooling in her stomach. She had thought her dad loved Bellamy. And now he doesn’t want to be in the same room as him? “What happened? Doesn’t Dad like Bellamy?”

“Oh no, sweetie, it’s not that,” Abby hurries to explain. “Jake thinks Bellamy is great. It’s just—well—” she grimaces. “We heard you last night. He’s very embarrassed. I don’t think he knows how to act around you at the moment.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke says, cringing. She can feel her face growing hot.

Bellamy just laughs, and Abby joins in, while Clarke gives them dirty looks. Obviously she got her sense of shame from her father.

“Stop it, this is so embarrassing,” Clarke huffs.

“Well, now he definitely won’t want us sleeping in the same bed,” Bellamy says, still grinning like the whole thing is hilarious.

“I think the illusion is shattered now,” Abby says. “He’ll get over it.”  

“But will I?” Clarke groans. How is she ever going to look her dad in the eye again?

“Just have some breakfast, Clarke,” Abby sighs. “It’s not the end of the world.” She leaves the room after that, probably to give them some space while Clarke comes to terms with the fact that her parents heard her orgasm.

They make their own breakfasts, Clarke replaying last night over in her mind, wondering exactly what her dad heard. She can see Bellamy smirking to himself out the corner of her eye, and she bumps her hip against his.

“Seriously, what is so funny?” she asks.

“Nothing,” he says. He glances at her, still smirking. “I was just thinking. Now your dad knows why you’re happier than he’s ever seen you.”

[marielle171gaming-blog]

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A good amount of completed gamers seem down their noses at Fortnite, the way in which, Potentially, that some jazz and blues diehards, in 1964, dismissed the Beatles. The dances, the alliterative location-names, the dearth of correct postapocalyptic menace: these can reveal a lack of seriousness that to some looks spell-breaking. A classmate of Gizzard Lizard’s, ZenoMachine, a gamer for longer than seems plausible (he started enjoying Team Fortress two in kindergarten and now develops his very own game titles), may be the eighth quality’s resident Fortnite Scrooge. “To start with, I’m not a supporter on the polygons,” ZenoMachine instructed me. We had been with a park bench, immediately after university—a rare strike of sunlight. “It's got a hi-res texture but very low-res polygons.” Gizzard Lizard had warned me which i wouldn’t have an understanding of ZenoMachine, but I gathered that he was critiquing the game’s aesthetics. He appreciated a realer seem. He objected to sure inconsistencies. The pickaxe, for example, which players use to demolish partitions and properties, will cause Pretty much no damage to other gamers like a weapon. “How can that be?” he stated. “I see why a whole lot of individuals like Fortnite. It targets players who aren’t professional. Nonetheless it violates the guidelines of consistency.” He reported that The very first time he performed he gained—by hiding out until finally Every person else had basically been killed off. This is named camping, and is frowned on by typical gamers. “If a thing so simple as participant alternative impacts the other players’ encounter, you’ve bought a design and style flaw,” ZenoMachine mentioned.

ZenoMachine develops his personal game titles utilizing a platform known as the Unreal Engine. Fortnite, because it happens, is crafted within the Unreal Engine, much too. The sport would be the generation of an organization known as Epic Game titles, centered outside the house Raleigh, North Carolina. In 1998, Epic unveiled a first-man or woman shooter named Unreal, which appreciated only reasonable achievement but which, Nearly by chance, experienced an enduring impact about the evolution of video clip game titles. Epic used Unreal’s fundamental architecture, plus some of its areas, to create what arrived being often known as the Unreal Engine, a basic System that supports all manner of game titles, be they shooters, brawlers, platformers, or sandbox R.P.G.s. It’s basically a collection of applications that developers can use to style and build video games together with other simulations. Rather than starting from scratch in, say, C++, the favored graphic-coding language, impartial builders as well as other companies make use of the Unreal Engine for making their own personal online games. (The licensing on the engine, consequently, provides Epic the dollars circulation to commit time and sources to the event of strike online games like Fortnite.) On a yearly basis, Epic makes use of current games, a number of them all but neglected, to soup up the Unreal Motor, in order that it may cope with an ever more refined array of demands. Fortnite was the initial Unreal Engine four release. Among other issues, Epic had to adapt the motor to aid its servers accommodate the massive amount of information that must be processed instantaneously when 100 gamers are competing in just one Struggle Royale round. The query of which steps affect Other people, and from what distance, on this large storm-sieged island—the outdated if-then difficulty—is far more complex than it would appear.

“Think about Fortnite as a visual method of media,” Jamin Warren, the editor in the lifestyle-and-gaming journal Kill Screen, instructed me. No matter what Fortnite’s attract like a activity to Participate in, It's also apparently by far the most beguiling one particular to look at. As movie-video game spectatorship fills arenas, and siphons a era far from true sports, Fortnite is now quite possibly the most viewed activity on YouTube—by March, there had been Pretty much a few billion views of your a lot of classes that players had uploaded—and the best match on Twitch, the streaming System. Seeing isn’t only for spazzes any longer. “It’s established A form of worldwide arcade,” Warren stated. “In lieu of a handful of Little ones on the lookout around the shoulder of the new-shot more mature brother or what ever, down at the shopping mall, you may have millions of persons looking at, and the person taking part in the sport is often a millionaire.”

The medium’s breakout star is called Ninja. He's a former Skilled Halo participant named Tyler Blevins, who's got explained that he would make more than half one million pounds per month by streaming his Fortnite sessions, and his totally free-associative commentary, on Twitch (that's owned by Amazon). His YouTube channel has greater than ten million subscribers. Very last thirty day period, he hosted a Fortnite Event in Las Vegas, in an e-sports activities arena, and Practically 7 hundred thousand folks tuned in to his Twitch stream. I’ve listened to quite a few teenagers seek advice from him as The united states’s greatest entertainer—which isn't as hyperbolic as it Seems. In April, Ninja ranked higher than any athlete on this planet in “social interactions,” a evaluate of social-media likes, comments, shares, and views. Cristiano Ronaldo was No. 2. In March, Ninja consented into a Fortnite session with Drake.

Blevins, who's twenty-six, comes from exterior Detroit and life near Chicago (he received’t say where) along with his spouse, who handles his business enterprise affairs. He streams 10 to fourteen hrs every day, generally from about nine A.M. to 3 P.M. and afterwards from six P.M. until finally Each time. All instructed, he logs about 300 hrs per month. What 1 sees is his match display screen, with his avatar in whatsoever pores and skin he has decided on, and, within an inset, a perpetual shot of Blevins himself. A ninja headband girds a Bieber-ish shock of hair that he dyes distinctive colours: emerald eco-friendly, platinum, yellow. He’s a lean, boyish man who appears to make an effort to take care of some semblance of the smile constantly. His spiel is goofy, caffeinated, and reasonably cocky. He does impressions. In March, he was mumbling some rap lyrics as he played, and somehow the term “indica” arrived out since the N-term. Amid the backlash, he apologized, kind of, and, when it arrived time for me to speak to him final week, his supervisor’s one particular situation was which i not talk to him about this, as he’d previously said what there was to say, which was, in part, “I assure that there was no mal intent (I wasn’t even wanting to say the word—I fumbled lyrics and acquired tongue-tied inside the worst possible way).” A scrupulous journalist might have referred to as from the interview, nevertheless the teens I’d been talking to with regards to the recreation were being so amazed that I might talk with Ninja which i caved. At the final moment, even though, Ninja bailed, professing illness. Burn off! (“I’m fairly absolutely sure which was BS,” a type of teens texted me. “I do think he was streaming these days.”) At any charge, Ninja’s sensitivity is a sign that avid gamers like him are coming into the mainstream. They have to watch whatever they say.

Onscreen, the millionaire maintains the environs from the gamer boy. The camera can take in an acoustic-tile ceiling, wall-to-wall carpeting, bare drywall, in addition to a fourposter mattress. There’s a framed Detroit Lions poster propped in opposition to a wall, along with a mini-fridge stocked with Red Bull. Ninja is usually a lifelong gamer, but he would make some extent to remind his followers, lest they obtain the drop-all the things bug, that he did well in class, played soccer together with other sporting activities, finished higher education whilst holding down a work at Noodles & Enterprise, and in many cases appeared, together with his relatives, on “Loved ones Feud.” The sport talent is legit. He wins a little something like fifty percent on the a huge selection of video games he performs each and every week, in opposition to all comers. He’s a crack shot and it has a nose with the significant floor. As generally as not, It appears he’s hardly paying attention. He’s looking at fans’ messages out loud, just like a discuss-radio host, or jabbering with A further Fortnite star, such as Dr. Lupo or KingRichard, whenever they’ve teamed up for the activity or two: “The recoil on this issue is Silly”; “You claimed you had a complete defend, ass”; “So hold my dick”; “That male was wanting to drink a chug jug. What a noob.” All accompanied by occasional bursts of gunfire. “To everyone seeing the stream, I hope you fellas are savoring the content, male.”

Gizzard Lizard’s shoot-out in Tomato Town came about on the final evening of April, which was the last evening of Season three. Anticipation was functioning high. Among the ingenious innovations of Fortnite is usually to introduce seasons of about two months, as with a cable-television collection, and also to integrate new plot and game aspects. (Final week, within a crossover masterstroke, Thanos, the indestructible villain of the new Avengers Motion picture, dropped in on the game—that's, gamers could adopt a Thanos pores and skin—and so, for quite a while, the Fortnite set gleefully schooled different Thanoses in a method the Avengers could not.) On April thirtieth, a comet that had been hovering above the island was speculated to strike immediately after midnight. For days, meteors had been showering the game. Teasers—the most recent remaining “brace for effects”—experienced influenced a raft of speculation and conspiracy theories. At the beginning, people anticipated the comet to strike the crowded urban environment known as Tilted Towers, but some clues led Other people to forecast, effectively, the comet would wipe out Dusty Depot, which was thereafter for being referred to as Dusty Divot.

It was difficult to do homework on an evening similar to this; Gizzard Lizard returned to the sport. He played with a Computer system he’d developed at college. It didn’t Possess a graphics card. He’d hardly ever been a big gamer—his parents were being rather demanding about screens and had never ever consented to an Xbox or even a Wii—however he’d performed Minecraft for some time. This standard of obsession was something new. He noticed on his uncover-your-buddies bar that a lot of schoolmates have been playing, so he FaceTimed a single who goes by ism64. They teamed up and strike Blessed Landing. Gizzard Lizard wore an earbud under a set of earphones, to ensure he could talk with ism64 while listening for your seem of approaching enemies. From the length, it appeared that he was conversing with himself: “Allow’s just Construct. Watch out, you’re gonna be trapped under my ramp. I’m hitting this John Wick. Oh my God, he just pumped me. Come revive me. Make all-around me and come revive me. Hold out, can I have that chug jug? Thanks.”

I’d been struck, seeing Gizzard Lizard’s video games for a few days, by how the spirit of collaboration, amid the urgency of mission and menace, appeared to provide out anything approaching gentleness. He and his close friends did favors for each other, viewed each other’s backs, supplied encouragement. This was something that I hadn’t found Substantially of, say, down in the rink. One particular could argue that the previous arcade, Using the at any time-present threat of bullying and harassment as well as the problem of claiming dibs, uncovered a kid to the globe—it’s character-constructing!—but there was a thing being mentioned for such a refuge, even though it did contain assault rifles and grenades.

After which the John Wick was on him. “Oh God! Oh God!” Foiled once again.

A John Wick was an completed player who had acquired a pores and skin that bears a resemblance on the character played by Keanu Reeves in the “John Wick” movies. (Formally, the pores and skin is called the Reaper, presumably to prevent licensing costs, but gamers call it John Wick.) It had been available to anybody who had attained all hundred tiers of the game in Season three—a mix of achievement and encounter which would have demanded participating in for amongst seventy-5 and 100 and fifty hours.

As the final hrs of Season 3 expired, players scrambled to achieve Tier a hundred, and obtain their John Wick skins. Gizzard Lizard was nowhere shut. He’d commenced the year to be a noob. Arrive the following morning, Working day One of Time 4, he experienced a decide to set from the several hours to acquire to Tier one hundred. It might get serious dedication. For The very first time, he ordered a thousand Fortnite V-bucks, for $nine.99, with which to acquire skins. He went While using the Carbide, a modern one which brought to mind a wetsuit. This was The 1st time he—or, a lot more to The purpose, his mother and father—had at any time used nearly anything but quarters with a sport.

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Gamers, young kinds in any case, don’t look to note these types of things. They’re immediately after assault rifles (preferably the Legendary SCAR), pump shotguns, bolt-motion sniper rifles (the scope can be a boon), chug jugs, slurp juices, bandages, medkits, and shield potions. They see, and covet, skins that appear awesome but don't have any bearing on activity play; for twenty bucks, you can don the Leviathan or even the Raven. Or they fixate on dance moves, the so-known as victory emotes you may have your avatar complete, in the heat of battle or after a destroy. The Floss, the Contemporary, the Squat Kick, the Wiggle—these have spilled out into the earth. It's possible you'll notice people today close to you, or Skilled athletes on Tv set, breaking into Weird dances. The one particular often called Go ahead and take L is massive in recent times while in the Bundesliga and at Minute Maid Park.

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Loads of achieved players look down their noses at Fortnite, the way in which, Possibly, that some jazz and blues diehards, in 1964, dismissed the Beatles. The dances, the alliterative place-names, the dearth of accurate postapocalyptic menace: these can suggest a lack of seriousness that to some appears to be spell-breaking. A classmate of Gizzard Lizard’s, ZenoMachine, a gamer for for a longer period than would seem plausible (he started actively playing Workforce Fortress two in kindergarten and now develops his very own game titles), could be the eighth quality’s resident Fortnite Scrooge. “First off, I’m not a admirer of your polygons,” ZenoMachine informed me. We had been on the park bench, soon after university—a unusual hit of sunlight. “It has a Hello-res texture but minimal-res polygons.” Gizzard Lizard had warned me that I wouldn’t recognize ZenoMachine, but I collected that he was critiquing the sport’s aesthetics. He appreciated a realer look. He objected to specific inconsistencies. The pickaxe, as an example, which gamers use to demolish partitions and buildings, leads to Pretty much no harm to other players for a weapon. “How can that be?” he stated. “I see why a good deal of individuals like Fortnite. It targets gamers who aren’t expert. Nonetheless it violates the legislation of regularity.” He reported that The very first time he performed he won—by hiding out until Every person else experienced essentially been killed off. This is known as camping, which is frowned upon by common players. “If something so simple as player option affects the opposite players’ encounter, you’ve obtained a layout flaw,” ZenoMachine explained.

ZenoMachine develops his possess games utilizing a System known as the Unreal Engine. Fortnite, since it transpires, is designed to the Unreal Engine, also. The game may be the development of a corporation named Epic Games, based mostly outdoors Raleigh, North Carolina. In 1998, Epic released a primary-person shooter named Unreal, which appreciated only reasonable accomplishment but which, Practically by accident, experienced an enduring impact over the evolution of video game titles. Epic employed Unreal’s underlying architecture, and a few of its parts, to generate what arrived to be referred to as the Unreal Motor, a simple System that supports all method of video games, be they shooters, brawlers, platformers, or sandbox R.P.G.s. It’s in essence a collection of instruments that builders can use to design and Develop games and also other simulations. In lieu of starting from scratch in, say, C++, the favored graphic-coding language, independent developers and various companies make use of the Unreal Motor to help make their very own games. (The licensing in the motor, in turn, offers Epic the income stream to commit time and sources to the event of strike online games like Fortnite.) Each and every year, Epic uses existing online games, some of them all but overlooked, to soup up the Unreal Engine, making sure that it could possibly handle an ever additional advanced array of requires. Fortnite was the initial Unreal Engine four launch. Among other factors, Epic needed to adapt the engine that will help its servers accommodate the massive level of information that has to be processed instantaneously when a hundred gamers are competing in only one Struggle Royale spherical. The issue of which actions affect Many others, and from what distance, on this vast storm-sieged island—the old if-then dilemma—is far more challenging than it would seem.

“Think of Fortnite as a visual form of media,” Jamin Warren, the editor from the tradition-and-gaming journal Kill Display, informed me. Whatever Fortnite’s attract as a activity to Participate in, It's also seemingly by far the most beguiling 1 to watch. As video clip-activity spectatorship fills arenas, and siphons a generation from actual sporting activities, Fortnite happens to be quite possibly the most seen video game on YouTube—by March, there were Practically 3 billion views from the many classes that gamers had uploaded—and the top video game on Twitch, the streaming platform. Viewing isn’t just for spazzes any longer. “It’s made A sort of world arcade,” Warren stated. “In place of several Youngsters on the lookout above the shoulder of the recent-shot more mature brother or whatever, down for the mall, you've countless folks seeing, and the individual enjoying the sport is actually a millionaire.”

The medium’s breakout star is referred to as Ninja. He's a previous Skilled Halo player named Tyler Blevins, that has stated that he can make more than 50 percent 1,000,000 pounds a month by streaming his Fortnite periods, and his free of charge-associative commentary, on Twitch (and that is owned by Amazon). His YouTube channel has in excess of ten million subscribers. Previous thirty day period, he hosted a Fortnite tournament in Las Vegas, within an e-athletics arena, and Pretty much seven hundred thousand persons tuned in to his Twitch stream. I’ve heard quite a few teens confer with him as The usa’s biggest entertainer—which is not as hyperbolic because it Appears. In April, Ninja rated larger than any athlete on the planet in “social interactions,” a measure of social-media likes, comments, shares, and sights. Cristiano Ronaldo was No. two. In March, Ninja consented to the Fortnite session with Drake.

Blevins, that's twenty-6, emanates from outside the house Detroit and life in close proximity to Chicago (he received’t say exactly where) along with his spouse, who handles his company affairs. He streams ten to fourteen several hours on a daily basis, normally from about 9 A.M. to 3 P.M. after which from 6 P.M. right up until whenever. All instructed, he logs about 300 several hours per month. What one particular sees is his recreation display screen, with his avatar in whatsoever pores and skin he has selected, and, within an inset, a perpetual shot of Blevins himself. A ninja headband girds a Bieber-ish shock of hair that he dyes distinctive colours: emerald green, platinum, yellow. He’s a lean, boyish person who seems to make an effort to keep up some semblance of the smile all the time. His spiel is goofy, caffeinated, and moderately cocky. He does impressions. In March, he was mumbling some rap lyrics as he played, and somehow the term “indica” arrived out because the N-term. Amid the backlash, he apologized, form of, and, when it arrived time for me to talk to him previous week, his supervisor’s just one ailment was which i not inquire him about it, as he’d presently mentioned what there was to say, which was, partly, “I promise that there was no mal intent (I wasn’t even endeavoring to say the phrase—I fumbled lyrics and got tongue-tied inside the worst feasible way).” A scrupulous journalist may need termed off the job interview, though the teenagers I’d been speaking with with regards to the video game were being so amazed that I'd talk with Ninja that I caved. At the final minute, while, Ninja bailed, proclaiming illness. Burn off! (“I’m fairly guaranteed that was BS,” a kind of teens texted me. “I think he was streaming today.”) At any amount, Ninja’s sensitivity is a sign that gamers like him are getting into the mainstream. They may have to view the things they say.

Onscreen, the millionaire maintains the environs in the gamer boy. The digicam usually takes within an acoustic-tile ceiling, wall-to-wall carpeting, bare drywall, as well as a fourposter mattress. There’s a framed Detroit Lions poster propped towards a wall, alongside a mini-fridge stocked with Crimson Bull. Ninja is really a lifelong gamer, but he helps make some extent to remind his enthusiasts, lest they get the fall-every little thing bug, that he did well at school, performed soccer and various sporting activities, completed faculty although Keeping down a career at Noodles & Corporation, and in many cases appeared, together with his loved ones, on “Household Feud.” The sport skill is legit. He wins some thing like 50 percent of your many games he plays each week, against all comers. He’s a crack shot and it has a nose with the large floor. As generally as not, It appears he’s hardly being attentive. He’s reading supporters’ messages out loud, similar to a talk-radio host, or jabbering with One more Fortnite star, which include Dr. Lupo or KingRichard, if they’ve teamed up for any activity or two: “The recoil on this matter is stupid”; “You claimed you experienced an entire defend, ass”; “So maintain my dick”; “That man was attempting to consume a chug jug. What a noob.” All accompanied by occasional bursts of gunfire. “To everyone seeing the stream, I hope you fellas are having fun with the articles, gentleman.”

Gizzard Lizard’s shoot-out in Tomato City befell on the final night of April, which was the last night time of Time 3. Anticipation was running large. Among the ingenious improvements of Fortnite is to introduce seasons of about two months, as over a cable-tv collection, and to integrate new plot and sport components. (Very last week, inside of a crossover masterstroke, Thanos, the indestructible villain of the new Avengers Motion picture, dropped in on the game—which is, players could adopt a Thanos pores and skin—and so, for a while, the Fortnite set gleefully schooled numerous Thanoses in a means which the Avengers couldn't.) On April 30th, a comet that had been hovering about the island was alleged to strike after midnight. For days, meteors were showering the game. Teasers—the most recent staying “brace for influence”—experienced encouraged a raft of speculation and conspiracy theories. At the beginning, folks predicted the comet to strike the crowded urban location called Tilted Towers, but some clues led others to forecast, properly, which the comet would wipe out Dusty Depot, which was thereafter to get generally known as Dusty Divot.

It absolutely was hard to do homework on an evening such as this; Gizzard Lizard returned to the sport. He performed over a Personal computer he’d designed in school. It didn’t Have a very graphics card. He’d never been an enormous gamer—his mom and dad have been quite strict about screens and had under no circumstances consented to an Xbox or even a Wii—however he’d played Minecraft for some time. This volume of obsession was a little something new. He noticed on his discover-your-mates bar that lots of schoolmates were participating in, so he FaceTimed 1 who goes by ism64. They teamed up and strike Lucky Landing. Gizzard Lizard wore an earbud beneath a set of earphones, to ensure he could talk with ism64 even though listening for that sound of approaching enemies. From a length, it appeared that he was talking to himself: “Let’s just Develop. Watch out, you’re gonna be trapped beneath my ramp. I’m hitting this John Wick. Oh my God, he just pumped me. Appear revive me. Create around me and are available revive me. Hold out, can I have that chug jug? Thank you.”

I’d been struck, seeing Gizzard Lizard’s game titles for a couple of days, by how the spirit of collaboration, amid the urgency of mission and menace, looked as if it would carry out a thing approaching gentleness. He and his mates did favors for each other, viewed one another’s backs, supplied encouragement. This was something that I hadn’t observed Significantly of, say, down in the rink. A person could argue the old arcade, Using the ever-existing threat of bullying and harassment plus the obstacle of declaring dibs, uncovered a kid to the world—it’s character-building!—but there was something to get explained for this kind of refuge, regardless of whether it did involve assault rifles and grenades.

And afterwards the John Wick was upon him. “Oh God! Oh God!” Foiled yet again.

A John Wick was an accomplished player who experienced earned a skin that bears a resemblance to your character performed by Keanu Reeves within the “John Wick” movies. (Officially, the skin is called the Reaper, presumably to prevent licensing costs, but gamers contact it John Wick.) It absolutely was accessible to anyone who experienced attained all hundred tiers of the sport in Year 3—a mix of accomplishment and practical experience which might have demanded enjoying for amongst seventy-five and 100 and fifty hrs.

As the final several hours of Time three expired, gamers scrambled to succeed in Tier 100, and have their John Wick skins. Gizzard Lizard was nowhere shut. He’d started off the period for a noob. Occur another early morning, Working day One among Time 4, he experienced a decide to set inside the several hours to receive to Tier one hundred. It will take really serious motivation. For The very first time, he acquired a thousand Fortnite V-bucks, for $nine.ninety nine, with which to order skins. He went Along with the Carbide, a modern one which brought to intellect a wetsuit. This was the first time he—or, more to The purpose, his mom and dad—had ever expended just about anything but quarters with a game.

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drabble for @mcallisterclan bc megan always writes prtty things for me. 2k wrds.

Everything is always so cold. Winter seeps through marble encasing and faux wood floors like tar pervading a lung - which is warm, a constant beat to it. The sheets are cold when she wakes up, and the thermostat is set to seventy three. She’s from Massachusetts, and though D.C. is significantly warmer, she finds herself having to adapt to the new environment.

The floor is cold when as her soles press against it; legs thrown over the bed, blindly seeking out her shoes strewn somewhere near the foot of the fourposter. It’s Phillip’s old bed, and like everything about him, it’s modern and stiff and unfriendly. She’s decided she hates it, and she’s put pink pillows everywhere, and yellow throw blankets and throw pillows are tossed all around the house, and they’re never folded. She wants him to get angry about it. She waits for it, watches him press his lips together in the same way someone would repress a laugh – except he would never laugh – before dissapearing into his office after work.

Dejection is cold. But he is colder.

There is something in the way the house sits that she knows he’s left on another business trip, the way the unwalked floor creaks when she pads into the kitchen.

A part of her wishes his ‘business trips’ were pleasure trips, and an even larger part of her wishes he was cheating on her. A sick, twisted part of her wishes she’d find a lipstick stain on his collar so they’d have something to ruin and something to rebuild. But there’s nothing there. And like a house that sits on a hill, their home is empty, and nothing stirs within it except for her spoon in a coffee mug. Fingers play chords against the granite countertop, and dressed scantily in one of her husband’s button downs he’d left in his old room, she pulls her knees up to her chest and sighs.

She watches with a ghost of a smile and the Boston globe in her hand as Machiavelli scampers into the living room, as though he’s been spooked. He runs on his chubby legs like there’s a broom waiting to sweep him into a corner, and she can’t help but laugh, eyes creasing and the newpaper crinkling.

Laying the paper flat against the island counter, she turns in her stool and nearly doubes over when her eyes land on Phillip’s figure in the doorway. He’s unmistakable - lofty, dressed in black slacks and a dark button down. She presses a hand against her chest and for a moment she thinks those rumours, those blind colleagues of his that seem to fear him, could be on to something. “Sacre bleu,” she sighs, catching her breath on the tilt of her throat.

She knows she looks a mess. Her hair sticks in every direction, despite being tamed in a low chignon, and mascara seeps from her waterline. But somehow whatever reflection plays in his exquisite eyes is livable. And then she remembers she’s barely dressed, her legs jutting from a shirt that isn’t even her own - one that hardly leaves her bodice to the imagination. Blushing fiercely, she waits for him to clear the air.

“Run out of clothes?”

“What?” Her voice is breathless and rushed.

His brows raise, and he gestures to the button down hung limply from her shoulders.

“Oh, no. Sorry.” A feverish scarlet runs up her neck. “You left it and – I’m sorry. I thought you were gone–– going?”

He pockets his keys. “No.”

“Where were you?”

“I wasn’t aware I was under interrogation. I had a meeting at the courthouse.” She looks up at him with her doe-eyed gaze and wonders, briefly, if there’s anything he lies to her about. “Is there a problem, Ambrosia?”

“No, no problem. Just curious.” She takes her coffee cup, the swift movement nearly allowing the hot brown liquid to lunge over the rim of the mug, and bids him aidue. “I’ll leave you to it.” She doesn’t check to see if he’s agknowledged her before making for the hallway.

“Ambrosia?”

Pulling the shirt over her ass, she turns back to Phillip, “yes?”

“I never liked the shirt anyway,” he said after a moment. “Keep it.”

January rolls around. A newscaster says the temperature would drop to the thirties by midnight.

The holidays came and went and the McAllisters churned in the New Year with a bottle of champagne. They toasted to health, just the two of them – which was so like him, really, because it was so traditional, so tasteless, that it almost pained her to lift her glass to something as insipid as health.

She’s unreasonably angry and for many, many reasons.

One - he never kissed her on New Year’s. It was the perfect setting: his mother’s house, the clock struck twelve, and as luck would have it she was pretty sure John kept mistletoes up yearlong and they happened to be standing under one. She stared up at him, their hips brushed, and she bit her lip. Her heart capsized in on itself when he smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. Rosie gave a half-hearted cheer, and blew into one of the kid’s harmonicas.

She was humiliated.

She cried in the bathroom as Mariah Carey caused the walls to tremble over the speakers - why were they still fucking listening to Christmas music? - and Barbara put on another classic holiday movie she says the boys used to love to watch when they all got along. So she kisses someone else, and finds out that guilt tastes a lot like copper.

And she decides that his colleagues were right. Phillip was terrifying when he was angered.

She counts the days. They don’t talk for nearly a week. His fists are still balled and there’s a vein which flickers in his neck when he sees her now. The silence is deafening, the distance between them earsplitting, as the first week of the new year rolls by. In like a lion, out with a lamb. They eat at different times, wake in lonely beds.

There’s an event that they have to attend, on the ninth. She’s accustomed to these sorts of things - being the daughter of Matthew Reynolds has conditioned her well – and by proxy Phillip has become something of a regular to them, too.

But she’s also used to living in an apartment with her closest girl friends. So when she reaches around to clasp her bra which had tangled itself with the back of her dress – one with a hefty price tag at that –  she finds herself at a loss, sighs, and realises there’s only one person that could possibly avail her.

“Phillip?” Her voice rings throughout the still house.

There’s a moment of shuffling, before his voice sounds back at her, “office.”

She follows his voice into his workroom and nudges him to gain his attention. “Please? It’s stuck.”

A moment passes in between her plea and his silent nod. His hands reach out, and momentarily his palm presses against the small of her back. Such is the berth in size that he can nearly still her with one hand. His skin is warm against her - hers is almost always cold.

He moves onward, and with deft fingertips draws the icy zipper across her freckled back and clasps her dress in place. She sighs in relief, pulling the sleeve up and over her shoulder.

“Thank you. Do I––”

“You look beautiful.”

A shy grin crosses her lips. “You, too.”

The house oddly smells like him. She thinks its funny, because he’s sly and deceptive and he’s good at his job (she knows because she rifles through his things) - he never leaves a trace, never any indication of his whereabouts.

She sometimes wonders if he really lives with her - she’s a hurricane and he’s neat and organized and never leaves the seat up or his shaving cream on the counter, while her hair clips and barettes and makeup are all over the place. She thinks its John’s doing, or his military upbringing. But the more she thinks about how utterly faultless he is, the more he serves to annoy her.

Though she’s washed it twice, the laundry smells like him. Minty, pervaded with cinnamon, spice, citrus. She brings the cottony shirt to her nose and holds the warm fabric to her chest. He’s been gone a week and everything still smells like him. She wonders if –––

His birthday is on the fourteenth. He’s thirty-four, and it’s the first time either of them have had a birthday since tying the knot. She wants it to be special. So she, perhaps blindly, consults with Matthew and even her own brother before settling on initialed cufflinks and a home brewing system - which supposedly revolutionized beer drinking, according to Matthew. She had considered a watch, of course, but that was somewhat cliche and she figured she’d try again on their anniversary.

Anniversaries were intended for the cliche.

She’s affluter with nerves, toying with her fingertips as she waits for him to get home. She wants him to like it. She desperately wants his approval.

He gets home at six - and like clockwork, her heartbeat rings in her ears when he breezes through the door, discards his glasses from the bridge of his nose, and pulls off the helmet from his head, his hair still looking impeccably suave.

“Phillip.” She greets, a twinge of expectation to her voice. She walks towards him and reaches for his hand, tugging him into the living room. “Come, come.”

Her poor husband is dubious. Did he think she had forgotten? “What’s this?”

She sits him down at the head of the table, and she, with her legs crossed and knees red, sits next to him. “This is your first birthday we’ve spent together. I wanted to do something for you. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, or what you needed, but I hope you’ll like it. It’s a last minute thing and I’m sorry but its not like you’re the easiest person to––”

“Ambrosia.” The pad of his thumb pressed against her bottom lip, he smiles gently towards her. “I’m sure it’s fantastic.”

“Open it,” she urges, a broad smile washing her face with unreserved joy. She fails to recall the last time she had been so raputous.

Like any well-trained, eldest brother, he is gracious and pretends to like the gifts she’s selected for him and thanks her profusely. She, through the largest smile she’s ever worn, tells him not to mention it. “So do you like it?”

“My wife has great taste,” he says.

She reaches for his hand again and squeezes it. “Happy birthday, Phillip.”

“Ambrosia?”

She leans her elbow against the table, nodding quickly. He tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, gently cupping her face with one hand.

“My birthday’s on the fifteenth, sweetheart.”

They go out one night - the sky is irritated with stars and it is no longer quite so cold, nor is the loneliness quite so unbearable. She supposes she has learned to adapt.

Phillip was scheduled to meet with an investor and his wife that same night, but his partner took a rain check last minute and the reservation still stood, so she tagged along instead, and wore a low cut, inky dress, so he could take her to a niche location on the Potomac river, which feeds into the mouth of the Chesapeake bay with the sound of a crooning guitar and encompassing atmosphere of over effusive Austrian cuisine.

He laughs for her. Something she said caused him to truly laugh, and though the noise is drained by a sip of wine, her eyes are glimmering with mirth. It is a blessed, blessed sound, honeyed and finely tuned.

She laughs when she tucks into bed, rolls over onto the cold, empty expanse of linen and mattress, lets her fingertips furl up the cool sheets. She’s so glad.

Whatever sophomoric feelings she had for Phillip last Christmas were gone.

She could move forward.

[newyorktheater]

Though many people may now most associate her with Peter Pan, Mary Martin (1913-1990) originated the roles of Nellie Forbush in “South Pacific” and Maria von Trapp in “The Sound of Music.” Years earlier her performances in musicals by Cole Porter and Kurt Weill made her a star. She had a robust career on Broadway over 40 years that featured both musicals and straight plays.

Mary Martin in “Leave to Me,” the Cole Porter musical that marked her Broadway debut. The photograph is by the famed Alfred Eisenstadt

Mary Martin in One Touch of Venus

Mary Martin with Yul Brynner in Lute Song

Mary Martin with Charles Boyer in “Kind Sir,” one of the three non-musical plays in which she starred on Broadway

Washing the man outta her hair in South Pacific

Mary Martin (Nellie Forbush) and Myron McCormick (Luther Billis) in South Pacific

with Jerome Robbins (!) in Peter Pan

Mary Martin (Maria Rainer) with Evanna Lien (Gretl), Mary Susan Locke (Marta), Marilyn Rogers (Brigitta), Joseph Stewart (Kurt), Mary Martin (Maria Rainer), Kathy Dunn (Louisa), William Snowden (Friedrich) and Lauri Peters (Liesl) in The Sound of Music

Mary Martin in The Sound of Music

Mary Martin in “Jennie,” 1963

with Robert Preston in “I Do! I Do!” 1966

Mary Martin as Lidya Vasilyevna in “Do You Turn Somersaults? ” The 1978 play by Aleksei Arbuzov; translated by Ariadne Nicolaeff, in which she starred opposite Anthony Quayle fan for 16 performances.

Check out the rest of the Broadway Alphabet series

Martin did not get to re-create her signature roles in the movie versions of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals. But Martin was one of the first Broadway stars to take advantage of television.

Here is an odd broadcast in 1953 that shows her skills as a performer even when she’s not singing or dancing, or saying a word

While she reportedly turned down the role of Annie Oakley in the original Broadway production of the Irving Berlin musical Annie Get Your Gun (the role going to Ethel Merman), she toured with a production, and then performed it on television in 1957. See below for all 105 minutes of it.

Leave It To Me, 1938

Score by Cole Porter. Book by Bella Spewack and Sam Spewack based on their play “Clear All Wires”

The show in which Martin made her Broadway debut included the popular coquettish song “My Heart Belongs to Daddy.” That one song made her a star. Here she is singing it some 17 years later

One Touch of Venus, 1943

Music by Kurt Weill; Book by S. J. Perelman and Ogden Nash; Lyrics by Ogden Nash

Mary Martin cemented her celebrity on Broadway with her sensual portrayal of Venus. (In a bit of foreshadowing, the movie version of the show starred…Ava Gardner, whose singing was dubbed by Eileen Wilson)

Here’s an audio of the gorgeous song “Speak Low”

Decades later, she sang “That’s Him” at the White House

Lute Song, 1946

Book by Sidney Howard and Will Irwin; Based on the famous Chinese play “Pi-Pa-Ki” by Kao-Tong-Kia and Mao-Tseo; Music by Raymond Scott; Lyrics by Bernard Hanighen;

Martin played a Chinese character named Tchao-Ou-Niang, married to a character portrayed by Yul Brynner. Although it was a typically large cast for the 1940s, she sang seven of the eight songs.

Here’s the audio of her singing the title song

South Pacific, 1949

Music by Richard Rodgers; Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II; Book by Oscar Hammerstein II and Joshua Logan; Based on “Tales of the South Pacific” by James A. Michener;

Audio of I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair

The tail end of Wash That Man, leading to a duet with Ezio Pinza on “Some Enchanted Evening,” followed by “I’m In Love With a Wonderful Guy”

Her performance in “South Pacific” won the first of her three competitive Tony Awards

Peter Pan, 1954

Based on the play by James M. Barrie; Lyrics by Carolyn Leigh; Music by Mark Charlap; Additional music by Jule Styne; Additional lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green; Incidental music by Elmer Bernstein and Trude Rittman;

Mary Martin famously re-created her role in a television special in 1955 and in 1960.

I’m Flying

Distant Melody

The Sound of Music, 1959

Book by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse; Music by Richard Rodgers; Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II; Based on “The Trapp Family Singers” by Maria Augusta Trapp;

Audio of Mary Martin’s final performance of “The Sound of Music” on Broadway

She sings the song she introduced to the world “My Favorite Things” in a duet with Petula Clark decades later

I Do! I Do!, 1966

Book by Tom Jones; Lyrics by Tom Jones; Music by Harvey Schmidt; Based on “The Fourposter” by Jan De Hartog

Martin sings with Robert Preston at the 1967 Tony Awards

Annie Get Your Gun, 1957 television special

Mary Martin highlights Doin’ What Comes Natur’lly, around 12:40 You Can’t Get A Man With A Gun, around 19:30 There’s No Business Like Show Business (a quartet) 29:30 Moonshine Lullaby 38:17 They Say It’s Wonderful, duet with John Raitt, 45:00 Lost in His Arms, 117:10 Sun in the Morning, 125:30 Anything You Can Do, duet with John Raitt 137:30

Together on Broadway (Mary Martin and Ethel Merman), 1977

The two Broadway divas appeared on Broadway together for one night only. It was the last musical performance on Broadway for both of them. (The one “video” I could find is only an audio and doesn’t do either of them justice. But here there are four years later, performing one after the other, in the farewell gala for Beverly Sills

Lets close with Mary Martin back on TV in the 1950s. First, singing while Richard Rodgers plays the piano on a TV special celebrating his years in show business. Her singing begins at 2:20.

Then in 1955, Mary Martin sings a Cole Porter favorite, “I Get a Kick Out of You” from the 1934 Broadway musical “Anything Goes” — very far from Peter Pan.

M is for Mary Martin. Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Muse, Broadway’s First TV Star. Though many people may now most associate her with Peter Pan, Mary Martin (1913-1990) originated the roles of Nellie Forbush in "South Pacific" and Maria von Trapp in "The Sound of Music." Years earlier her performances in musicals by Cole Porter and Kurt Weill made her a star.

[maris457vbucks-blog]

15 Unusual Hobbies That'll Cause you to Greater at ways to get v bucks without cost

Players, younger kinds in any case, don’t look to notice these factors. They’re after assault rifles (if possible the Famous SCAR), pump shotguns, bolt-action sniper rifles (the scope is a boon), chug jugs, slurp juices, bandages, medkits, and protect potions. They see, and covet, skins that glance neat but haven't any bearing on activity Participate in; for 20 bucks, you can don the Leviathan or maybe the Raven. Or they fixate on dance moves, the so-identified as victory emotes you can have your avatar perform, in the warmth of struggle or after a kill. The Floss, the Clean, the Squat Kick, the Wiggle—these have spilled out into the entire world. Chances are you'll recognize people today all around you, or Skilled athletes on Television set, breaking into Unusual dances. The 1 generally known as Go ahead and take L is large these days during the Bundesliga and at Moment Maid Park.

VBUCKS IN FORTNITE

Plenty of completed players appear down their noses at Fortnite, the best way, perhaps, that some jazz and blues diehards, in 1964, dismissed the Beatles. The dances, the alliterative put-names, the dearth of true postapocalyptic menace: these can point out an absence of seriousness that to some would seem spell-breaking. A classmate of Gizzard Lizard’s, ZenoMachine, a gamer for more time than looks plausible (he began taking part in Crew Fortress 2 in kindergarten and now develops his have game titles), is the eighth grade’s resident Fortnite Scrooge. “To begin with, I’m not a fan with the polygons,” ZenoMachine instructed me. We had been on a park bench, immediately after faculty—a exceptional hit of sunlight. “It's a Hello-res texture but minimal-res polygons.” Gizzard Lizard experienced warned me that I wouldn’t understand ZenoMachine, but I gathered that he was critiquing the game’s aesthetics. He preferred a realer search. He objected to selected inconsistencies. The pickaxe, for example, which players use to demolish partitions and buildings, triggers Pretty much no harm to other players to be a weapon. “How can that be?” he reported. “I see why a great deal of folks like Fortnite. It targets gamers who aren’t seasoned. But it surely violates the legislation of consistency.” He reported that the first time he played he received—by hiding out right up until Every person else had essentially been killed off. This is named tenting, and is also frowned upon by common gamers. “If something so simple as participant preference impacts the other players’ practical experience, you’ve bought a style flaw,” ZenoMachine stated.

ZenoMachine develops his personal video games using a System known as the Unreal Motor. Fortnite, as it takes place, is crafted within the Unreal Motor, as well. The sport would be the creation of a business referred to as Epic Video games, based outside Raleigh, North Carolina. In 1998, Epic released a first-individual shooter called Unreal, which loved only moderate results but which, Practically accidentally, had an enduring influence within the evolution of online video online games. Epic utilized Unreal’s underlying architecture, plus some of its sections, to produce what arrived to become often called the Unreal Motor, a basic platform that supports all method of game titles, be they shooters, brawlers, platformers, or sandbox R.P.G.s. It’s essentially a suite of equipment that builders can use to style and Create games and other simulations. Rather than starting from scratch in, say, C++, the popular graphic-coding language, unbiased developers as well as other firms utilize the Unreal Motor to create their particular video games. (The licensing of the engine, subsequently, offers Epic the funds flow to commit time and means to the development of hit games like Fortnite.) On a yearly basis, Epic works by using current online games, some of them all but forgotten, to soup up the Unreal Engine, to make sure that it could possibly tackle an ever much more sophisticated assortment of requires. Fortnite was the main Unreal Motor four release. Among other matters, Epic needed to adapt the engine to help you its servers accommodate the massive quantity of details that must be processed instantaneously when a hundred players are competing in a single Struggle Royale spherical. The dilemma of which actions affect Many others, and from what length, on this huge storm-sieged island—the outdated if-then dilemma—is far more challenging than it would seem.

“Imagine Fortnite as a visual method of media,” Jamin Warren, the editor of your lifestyle-and-gaming journal Kill Monitor, informed me. What ever Fortnite’s allure as being a activity to Enjoy, It is additionally evidently the most beguiling 1 to view. As movie-match spectatorship fills arenas, and siphons a technology faraway from genuine sports, Fortnite is becoming quite possibly the most considered activity on YouTube—by March, there had been Nearly 3 billion sights in the an incredible number of classes that gamers had uploaded—and the top match on Twitch, the streaming platform. Viewing isn’t only for spazzes any longer. “It’s created A sort of world arcade,” Warren stated. “Rather than a few Children hunting in excess of the shoulder of the new-shot more mature brother or regardless of what, down at the shopping mall, you may have numerous persons watching, and the individual playing the sport is a millionaire.”

The medium’s breakout star is recognized as Ninja. He is a former Experienced Halo participant named Tyler Blevins, who's got said that he helps make over half a million dollars per month by streaming his Fortnite periods, and his free-associative commentary, on Twitch (that's owned by Amazon). His YouTube channel has in excess of 10 million subscribers. Last thirty day period, he hosted a Fortnite Event in Las Vegas, in an e-sports activities arena, and Just about 7 hundred thousand people tuned in to his Twitch stream. I’ve listened to a lot of teenagers make reference to him as The united states’s most significant entertainer—which isn't as hyperbolic as it sounds. In April, Ninja rated higher than any athlete on earth in “social interactions,” a measure of social-media likes, responses, shares, and what to spend v bucks on fortnite views. Cristiano Ronaldo was No. 2. In March, Ninja consented to a Fortnite session with Drake.

Blevins, that's 20-6, emanates from outside Detroit and lives near Chicago (he won’t say where) with his wife, who handles his company affairs. He streams ten to fourteen hours per day, typically from about nine A.M. to 3 P.M. then from 6 P.M. till When. All advised, he logs about 300 hrs a month. What 1 sees is his recreation display, together with his avatar in no matter what skin he has decided on, and, in an inset, a perpetual shot of Blevins himself. A ninja headband girds a Bieber-ish shock of hair that he dyes unique colors: emerald environmentally friendly, platinum, yellow. He’s a lean, boyish guy who seems to make an work to take care of some semblance of a smile constantly. His spiel is goofy, caffeinated, and reasonably cocky. He does impressions. In March, he was mumbling some rap lyrics as he played, and someway the term “indica” arrived out as being the N-word. Amid the backlash, he apologized, kind of, and, when it came time for me to speak to him past 7 days, his manager’s 1 problem was that I not check with him about it, as he’d previously claimed what there was to mention, which was, partly, “I assure that there was no mal intent (I wasn’t even looking to say the term—I fumbled lyrics and received tongue-tied within the worst possible way).” A scrupulous journalist may have named off the job interview, but the teens I’d been speaking to about the match have been so impressed that I'd talk to Ninja that I caved. At the last minute, while, Ninja bailed, declaring ailment. Melt away! (“I’m quite absolutely sure which was BS,” one of those teens texted me. “I think he was streaming now.”) At any level, Ninja’s sensitivity is an indication that gamers like him are moving into the mainstream. They've got to observe what they say.

Onscreen, the millionaire maintains the environs with the gamer boy. The digicam normally takes in an acoustic-tile ceiling, wall-to-wall carpeting, bare drywall, and also a fourposter mattress. There’s a framed Detroit Lions poster propped towards a wall, alongside a mini-fridge stocked with Pink Bull. Ninja is really a lifelong gamer, but he can make a degree to remind his lovers, lest they get the fall-every thing bug, that he did perfectly at school, performed soccer along with other athletics, concluded college or university while holding down a position at Noodles & Firm, and even appeared, together with his loved ones, on “Household Feud.” The sport skill is legit. He wins a little something like fifty percent from the hundreds of video games he performs each individual 7 days, against all comers. He’s a crack shot and it has a nose to the substantial ground. As typically as not, It appears he’s hardly paying attention. He’s reading through followers’ messages out loud, similar to a talk-radio host, or jabbering with Yet another Fortnite star, which include Dr. Lupo or KingRichard, should they’ve teamed up for any video game or two: “The recoil on this matter is stupid”; “You stated you experienced a complete defend, ass”; “So keep my dick”; “That person was seeking to consume a chug jug. What a noob.” All accompanied by occasional bursts of gunfire. “To any person watching the stream, I hope you men are enjoying the information, person.”

Gizzard Lizard’s shoot-out in Tomato City befell on the last evening of April, which was the last evening of Time three. Anticipation was operating high. Among the ingenious innovations of Fortnite should be to introduce seasons of about two months, as on the cable-television sequence, and also to combine new plot and video game features. (Final week, within a crossover masterstroke, Thanos, the indestructible villain of The brand new Avengers Motion picture, dropped in on the game—that is definitely, gamers could undertake a Thanos skin—and so, for quite a while, the Fortnite set gleefully schooled various Thanoses in a way which the Avengers couldn't.) On April 30th, a comet that were hovering in excess of the island was purported to strike following midnight. For times, meteors had been showering the game. Teasers—the most recent currently being “brace for impression”—had impressed a raft of speculation and conspiracy theories. At first, men and women predicted the comet to hit the crowded city placing known as Tilted Towers, but some clues led Other folks to forecast, effectively, which the comet would wipe out Dusty Depot, which was thereafter to get known as Dusty Divot.

It absolutely was hard to do homework on a night like this; Gizzard Lizard returned to the sport. He played over a Computer system he’d designed at school. It didn’t Possess a graphics card. He’d never ever been a giant gamer—his parents were being relatively stringent about screens and experienced never ever consented to an Xbox or perhaps a Wii—while he’d performed Minecraft for a while. This standard of obsession was some thing new. He noticed on his obtain-your-pals bar that lots of schoolmates were participating in, so he FaceTimed a person who goes by ism64. They teamed up and hit Blessed Landing. Gizzard Lizard wore an earbud below a set of earphones, so that he could talk to ism64 while listening with the seem of approaching enemies. From a length, it appeared that he was conversing with himself: “Let’s just Develop. Be careful, you’re gonna be trapped under my ramp. I’m hitting this John Wick. Oh my God, he just pumped me. Appear revive me. Build close to me and come revive me. Hold out, can I've that chug jug? Thanks.”

I’d been struck, observing Gizzard Lizard’s game titles for a few days, by how the spirit of collaboration, amid the urgency of mission and danger, seemed to carry out some thing approaching gentleness. He and his buddies did favors for one another, watched one another’s backs, supplied encouragement. This was a thing that I hadn’t witnessed Considerably of, say, down on the rink. A person could argue the outdated arcade, Along with the at any time-current menace of bullying and harassment along with the challenge of professing dibs, uncovered A child to the globe—it’s character-making!—but there was a thing to generally be explained for this kind of refuge, although it did entail assault rifles and grenades.

Then the John Wick was on him. “Oh God! Oh God!” Foiled all over again.

A John Wick was an achieved participant who experienced attained a skin that bears a resemblance to your character performed by Keanu Reeves in the “John Wick” films. (Officially, the pores and skin is called the Reaper, presumably in order to avoid licensing charges, but gamers contact it John Wick.) It absolutely was available to anybody who experienced attained all hundred tiers of the sport in Year 3—a mix of accomplishment and expertise which would have demanded playing for involving seventy-5 and 100 and fifty hours.

As the final hrs of Season three expired, players scrambled to reach Tier a hundred, and acquire their John Wick skins. Gizzard Lizard was nowhere near. He’d commenced the year for a noob. Arrive the next early morning, Working day Among Time 4, he experienced a want to put from the hours to get to Tier a hundred. It would consider major determination. For The very first time, he purchased a thousand Fortnite V-bucks, for $9.99, with which to obtain skins. He went Along with the Carbide, a smooth one that introduced to mind a wetsuit. This was The 1st time he—or, a lot more to the point, his parents—experienced at any time invested something but quarters with a activity.

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Thursday, 23rd December 2004 – Etoges, France

Were it not just two days before Christmas, I’d be quite happy to be snowed in here…

There’s this weird sixth sense Lynne and I seem to possess when it comes to picking hotels and restaurants, and it still works, even after a couple of decades. I’ve clearly struck gold with this one… more of that later though. The drive yesterday from the Riviera took nine hours, including two fifteen minute stops, the first one to get a hideously strong expresso coffee, packed with sugar, and the second for fuel and a bar of chocolate. Otherwise I was in my over-packed car from 9 yesterday morning till 6, managing around 600 miles in that time. I can see out of the back window – I made sure I could – but only just! Anyway, the roads were mostly quiet, and the weather was glorious, although someone seemed to have put France in the deep freeze; it never staggered much above freezing all day. However, mid-afternoon, round about Dijon, I ran slap into the snowstorm they’d been promising, and the final two and a half hours of the trip were no fun at all.

It could have been worse, I guess. The French were at least prepared – the weather was forecast for the Champagne region, and the local councils had sent out the salting lorries. This meant that the snow melted on contact with the road, and while the trailing wake from some lorries was highly unpleasant, at least everyone was able to keep going. If this had happened in Britain, chaos would probably have been the result – I’m remembering flying into Bristol last February and the plane being severely delayed, because they hadn’t gritted the runway. They’d sent the guys who drove the gritters home, because of bad weather!

Anyway, after what felt like a very long drive from the motorway, I finally reached Etoges, and located the hotel, the very lovely Chateau d’Etoges. It started to look good from the moment I found the large, wrought iron gates, and drove up the driveway, across the moat and into the courtyard.

This place is simply splendid, and if we get daylight later this morning I shall take a few photos. The massive staircase to the bedrooms made me feel I should be wearing something long and sweeping, not a pair of scruffy jeans, so I was glad I’d packed something civilized to wear at dinner – black jeans, white linen top and long black velvet coat if anyone cares – and my bedroom is next to one of the towers, overlooking the moat. It has an oriental theme, with lots of Thai artworks, a beautiful red and black chest that looks Chinese, and a massive fourposter bed (I swear you could get at least four people in it). The bathroom is enormous too, with lots of Roger & Gallet soaps and lotions and things. And the bathtub is deep, though rather narrow.

And dinner last night? Simply wonderful. The lounge has a great deal of panelling, a huge fireplace with logs burning away, a Christmas tree that fills a corner of the room, and great big soft sofas. I sat and allowed them to persuade ne to drink a glass of Champagne as an aperitif while I studied the menu, and then in to dinner. I think I may have to kidnap the chef. The starter was superb – grilled scallops threaded onto a piece of lemon grass in lieu of a skewer, pumpkin cut into tiny pieces and gently poached, and an orange sauce. However, the main course caused me to want to sit and make little whimpering noises of pleasure, it was so wonderful. Described as shoulder of wild boar, it had been casseroled with some onions and I would say some red wine, until it was tender and had fallen into individual fibres of meat, and wasn’t at all what I was expecting, but puts this meal right up there on the list of some of the most memorable meals I’ve ever eaten, right behind lunch at le Manoir aux Quatre Saisons, and a number of dinners at Rhodes in the Square (sadly now defunct). Damn, but it was good. Served with a celeriac puree, carrot puree and – I think – courgette puree.

Their cheese board was wonderful (and I was amused by the translation to English of “refined cheeses”), and the dessert was another suprise, a pineapple and coconut crumble that made me rethink my apparent dislike of coconut. It was so tasty it was hard to believe. The also added a rum and banana panacotta, which was rich, creamy and probably the best panacotta I’ve ever had. Add a bottle of Madiran (from the South West of France and wine that’s largely underrated – and rarely found outside its home area) and I was more than happy last night. Actually, having forgotten just how strong Madiran can be, that’s not surprising – 14.5% is very strong for wine… Ah well. I staggered back up the baronial staircase round about 10 o’clock last night, and was asleep about 15 minutes later.

This morning the snow seems to have gone, and I have about four hours driving left to do, so I’m having a late breakfast, after another soak in the bath. I’ll set off once it’s properly daylight and any ice that’s formed overnight has hopefully melted. I plan on stopping at a Belgian supermarket in search of smoked eel, and also possibly buying a couple of bottles of Champagne here, and that’s really the plan for today.

Travel 2004 – Etoges, France Thursday, 23rd December 2004 - Etoges, France Were it not just two days before Christmas, I'd be quite happy to be snowed in here...