#No it's not that easy to just brush my teeth because I have completely transcended the connection to my physical form and chosen instead

[rants-about-opm]

Thinking about how it is entirely possible for your brain to sabotage you but most people don't realize that because they don't think of it as their brain, they think of it as them, meanwhile all the neurodivergents in the house are fighting the gray matter blob that's hogging the pilot's seat and trying to get the body to throw hands with itself.

[mayrubyy]

Clouded III

➻ Pairing- Chanyeol x Reader  ➻ Genre - Angst + Fwb! 

➻ Word Count - 3.7k  

➻ Rating - (M) Warning! this contains strong language, fwb, sexual and angst themes that are intended for mature audiences. Please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with the said themes and if you’re under 18! 

A/N - hey guys, so.. it is time to say goodbye and i was always full of hope and love for this series. sadly, it won’t see the light of day like i hoped for but in all it’s unfinished, glory, i present to you ~ Chapter III of Clouded.

This is my last post. So, farewell. 

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.  ･ ｡ × fragments=͟͟͞͞evanescent-lucid͟͟-transcending × ｡･ .  

Wayfaring aimlessly, you were drenched from head to toe and your senses were heavily distorted. The icy pellets of rain were unrelenting, not gentle in the slightest as they slapped against your skin. Streaks of lightning pierced through the forlorn sky in iridescent veins of electric and purple.The wind kept howling around you, the violent rainstorm having no mercy as it obscured your vision. Cars were zooming by at full speed, splashing puddles on to the pavement in their wake and when thunder roared above you, it sparked some kind of urgency in you as if the universe was telling you to take that one step forward, one step closer to starting a new chapter of your life– only you couldn't fathom that by doing so you were inviting trouble. 

All you could think of was Chanyeol and you found yourself knocking at his door, in the dead of the night.

Moreover, being completely soaked to the bone and nearly shivering to death wasn't fun. A mild wave of panic coursed through your body when you realized he wasn't answering the door. You rang the bell a few more times, begging, hoping and praying he was home. 

But, it was all drearily for nothing. 

Just when you were about to give up, you heard him shuffle. His footsteps thundered across the hallway and with a hasty turn of the knob, the door was ineptly flung open. The light fixtures in the foyer did little to illuminate his features, flickering about as they swathed his tall form in subtle hues of orange and gold. Chanyeol stood before you like a tower, silhouetting the buttery glow of his apartment and for a fleeting second, you couldn't decipher anything. Your mind was swirling in a heart stopping haze, his cologne dominating your senses as you stood there, wavering under his gaze. He rubbed his own bleary eyes, looking dazed and spaced out in the soft light, hair a complete mess, perhaps from wearing headphones. His breathing was erratic, chest tight against his shirt as it rose and fell, elucidating he had dashed all the way to get the door. To get to you. 

"Y/N?" He faltered, gaping at you with furrowed brows. "Wh-what are you doing here?" He asked you, dipping slightly to look at the expensive watch that adorned his wrist. "It's like one in the morning," ruffling the crimson locks away from his face, he tilted his head to the side like a lost pup and an awkward wave of silence crept between you two. The frigid air was stinging and your damp shirt was unpleasantly clinging to your body, the dewiness itching and nibbling away at your skin. Quivering in your bones, you wrapped your soaked arms around yourself and stuttered through chattering teeth. 

"Ch-Chanyeol… I'm c-cold."

"Fuck– my bad." He shuffled from one feet to the other before cautiously leaning towards you. "Here, let me–," then carefully draping his arm over your shoulder, he lead you inside, the warmth of his body effectively engulfing you as he did. The minute you set foot in his apartment, you were taken aback by how huge and spacious it was. And oddly enough, it was welcoming and cozy– just like him. 

It wasn't an ordinary apartment at all. It was rather luxurious for an undergrad and you could say you were mildly shook. You caught a whiff of coffee coming from his kitchen and some beats blaring through the headphones that sat tacitly on the counter. He was after all, much to your relief at home and completely immersed in music. That's why he couldn't hear you ring the bell or knock the door. He clumsily hooked his leg around the scaffold of the stool and dragged it closer to the island. Gently squeezing your shoulder, he ushered you to sit and after you quietly perched yourself down on the stool you looked up at him. His gorgeous pair of eyes sparkled as they met yours and deep in your heart, you felt relieved for having someone like him to rely on. A shoulder you could lean and cry on. 

"You, alright?" he asked you, concern swirling in his dark orbs. You kept your head low and nodded while he paced towards the coffee-maker and quickly grabbed a mug from the cupboard. He poured the hot liquid into it and scampered back to you. "You might want to have some. It'll help you warm up." He mumbled, voice deep and soothing to your ears. His fingers brushed softly against yours as you took the mug from him. "You probably need a warm bath too. I'll be right back." And with that he hurried away again, disappearing into the bedroom this time. He seemed anxious and quite restless like he didn't want to linger around you. 

You began to fret you were bothering him for turning up unannounced and so out of the blue like this. For a good moment you were contemplating whether to leave again. The door was right there, maybe you should...but your limbs had failed you. Your joints were beginning to ache and there was a sharp pain seeping through your nerves from the cold. Feeling defeated and worn out, you winced as you brought the rim of the mug to your lips and sipped quietly. The warmth from the coffee slowly began spreading down your throat and into your empty belly.

Your eyes flickered around the apartment as you placed the mug back down on the counter. A huge shelf made of glass had intrigued you. It was filled with action figures, a collection of sorts, of Chanyeol's favorite manga and anime characters. There was a record player sitting by the same shelf which had a robust and vintage feel to it. And, a glass door beside it leading further into something that looked like a mini studio, with guitars racked neatly in a corner and some dreamcatchers celestially hooked to the wall above them. The other end was adorned with the One Piece flag hanging on the wall which confirmed his addiction to all things Japanese. It was adorable. You squinted through the glass door again and found a desktop– an iMac sitting right in between the space with acoustic diffusers surrounding it. You could tell Chanyeol was very passionate about music. You had once heard him play the guitar at a local club on a weekend but you didn't know he had a whole studio in his exquisite apartment like this. 

Your bestfriend Kyungsoo had told you that Chanyeol was from an affluent family. He was in the Basketball team along with your boyfriend Taehyung. Highly competitive and charming to a fault, musically talented and really tall, kinda clumsy with a goofy grin and big fluffy ears– that was all you really knew about him. 

It was at a party after a match that Baekhyun had introduced you to each other. And, all you could vaguely remember was playing beer pong and getting drunk out of your mind. Taehyung had abandoned you in the middle of the party and the next day, you found yourself waking up on top of Chanyeol. It sure as hell was fucking awkward, you recall. Although, he had chuckled nonchalantly and assured you that you were just woozy and beyond sloshed. That you held him tightly and wouldn't let him go till you were out cold and passed out on the couch. Chanyeol went as far as calling you cute that day and you felt your face go embarrassingly crimson and returned him with a sharp punch to his gut, making him groan frantically. He did put up a dramatic show that day because he loved attention and took much pride in teasing you. 

Quickly enough, your little encounters with him followed. You ran into each other at the games a lot. More mini trips to 7-Eleven at the campus, talking about music and other things that amused you and you came to realize that you both had a lot in common. You were beginning to grow fond of his company everytime Taehyung left you hanging. And whenever you'd get anxious you'd end up texting Chanyeol asking if Tae was at the game. 

Chanyeol would facetime you and tell you that guys like to go into their little caves from time to time. That it wasn't anything you should be worrying about. Although, to your shocking revelation, it was far from an ordinary man cave. Your world turned upside down after Chanyeol ran into your boyfriend making out with one of the cheerleaders in the locker room. 

He kept it from you for two weeks before fidgeting and stuttering, then finally spilled everything out and suggested you moved on from Taehyung. That it was for the best. At first you thought it was some kind of a pathetic joke but turns out, it wasn't. 

You'd never felt so broken and so ditched. You felt ridiculed and helpless. Taehyung never really cared to bring the matter up. And when you asked him if he was seeing anyone, he simply told you not to be ridiculous, persuading you to drop it with all things romantic and velvety later on. You were starting to feel sick of his behavior. Of course it was you who was being delusional and not him shoving his tongue down someone else's throat. It must have been so easy for him, right? 

As the weeks flew by, your mind hopelessly drifted back to how your boyfriend would rather spend the weekend with some chic who'd had sugar, spice and everything nice and honestly, it wasn't fun or healthy for you to fret over him anymore. It made you dizzy, made you want to throw up. He was cold blood lying through his teeth. He was cheating on you and you'd had just about enough. 

Barely hours ago, you'd stormed out of Taehyung's apartment after having a nerve wracking argument with him. Completely blinded by rage you wandered forcefully in the streets until it had started raining violently. And then it dreadfully occurred to you that you had absolutely nowhere to go. Kyungsoo wasn't in town and the last person to cross your mind was Chanyeol. His apartment was around the corner and of all the people, you never really fathomed you'd end up knocking at his door all doused and a drenched mess like this but here you were.  

You balled your fists and sniffled quietly, trying to stop the tears that were welling at the corner of your weary eyes. Chanyeol was still nowhere in sight while the beats continued blaring from his headphones from the other end. You wiped a lone tear that had trickled down your right cheek and returned your attention to the white foam swirling delicately in your mug, trails of steam dancing above it. 

"Y/N?"

You heard Chanyeol's voice echo from within the room. You quickly placed your elbows on the counter and ducked your head to conceal your tears away from him. 

"The bath is ready. You'll find the clothes on the dresser. And, I– uhm, I have some bath bombs. If you wanna use them. Go ahead." Chanyeol reappeared scratching the back of his head, his lips had curved into a daffy smile. 

"You have a...g-girlfriend?" It wasn't that you were curious but you knew you shouldn't have blurted that out so mindlessly. It was obvious. It was so goddamn obvious. He's a young adult, a drop dead gorgeous one for fuck's sake. He plays basketball and guitars, has got a whole studio of his own and must have plenty of girls over. You couldn't have been more nuts to ask him that? You mentally shrug and cuss at yourself. 

"What?" Chanyeol looked at you as if you were delirious. "Uhhh, no? I don't." He mumbled, a huge pout adorning his lips. "I'm not.. really.. in a good headspace for love." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "Also, love is fucking illusive, you know?" 

Illusive? Is that even a word? You both eyed each other intently and the more you looked at him the more you were mystified by his words. You bit your lip quietly and urged him to continue, "tell me more."

"How about you get out of those clothes first." Chanyeol's voice was barely a whisper. He then furrowed his brows but his expression quickly morphed into an awkward one like he was ready to pull his hair out. "I mean, you must be cold –not that– I– fuck–.." 

Another wave of awkward silence crept between you two and he began pulling at his hair frantically. "That sounded awful.." He stomped about cursing and letting a string of fucks slip out of his tongue again. He then collapsed to the floor and hid his face dramatically in his hands. You couldn't help but chuckle at his actions and wheezed loudly enough for him to peek from between his fingers to look back at you. He slowly loosened up and smiled quietly to himself. "I'm serious." He walked towards you and sat himself on the stool, "don't want you falling sick, babe." 

Chanyeol looked at you adoringly, the apples of his cheeks were glistening, still blushing pink. "You done with that?" he pointed at the mug. You took one last sip and nodded, never taking your eyes off him. "I am." You pushed the mug towards him and his fingers found their way around the porcelain again, brushing softly against yours like they did the first time. You mouthed a soft 'thank you'. He darted his tongue out to wet his lips while you continued gazing back at him, mesmerized by his pink fluffy ears. A hearty smile fluttered on his lips as well as yours. He wrapped his long fingers snugly around yours and whispered back to you, fondness gleaming in his eyes. 

"Don't worry about it, baby."

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The lump in your throat was gnawing its way slowly down to your chest as you helped yourself out of your damp clothes. Your head was starting to spin again when you finally caught a glimpse of your disheveled state in the mirror. You mocked yourself cynically and wondered why Chanyeol wasn't mortified, hadn't gasped and shut the door back in your face. You looked ghastly but he was being far too sweet with you. He was gentle as ever, taking your icy hands that had gone numb into his huge ones, rubbing them together to get them warm and whispering sweetly and huskily that it was alright, that you were safe in his hands now. 

The more you looked at yourself the more you felt exasperated like you were wallowing away in wades of self pity. Your eyeliner was smudged around your dreary eyes as though someone had beaten the living crap out of you. And, being alone by yourself again only allowed the bitterness to creep back into your heart.

'Love is illusive' Chanyeol had accented and you couldn't help but dwell on the thought as you ensconced yourself into the steaming tub, allowing the lush scent of lavender to cloud your senses. The water soaked and engulfed you in a lukewarm trance, washing away the remnants of the rainstorm that had pierced your fragile skin not merely an hour ago. 

"Love's like a game– a game you just can't win." 

Chanyeol's words echoed in the back of your mind. He kept citing whilst showing you the way to the bathroom. He can't just be saying that to make you feel better would he? He looked pretty suave and confident saying he didn't have time for romance but then again with a charming aura like that he could get any girl at any shack. It would be his call. You had no hint or clue about his past flings although he'd grown to be so close to you. However, somewhere deep in the pits of your broken heart, you felt like you've known him for years even though you'd only started talking to him merely months ago. 

As much as you wanted to drown your thoughts into the night in the tub, you couldn't keep him waiting. If it wasn't embarrassing enough he'd heard your stomach growl to which he had softly grazed your cheek with his thumb and asked you to hurry up, rasping away that he'd cook you something. You were in fact enthusiastic about wanting to give him credence for his witty nuances about love and join him back in the kitchen. If you were a damsel in distress– Chanyeol was your knight in shining armor. You chuckled at the thought and huffed away, blowing and lifting some of the delicate foamy bubbles that were settled on your knees. 

Perhaps, it really was time to turn the page to a new chapter in your life. "Fuck you, Tae." You spat bitterly, soapy suds slithering down your dewy, glistening body as you rose to your feet, planting them firmly on the ceramic underneath. "Fuck everything." You crouched again and pulled the stopper out, watching what was left of the effervescent mixture of lavender whirl about and get sucked into the drain, taking along with it parts of you that you no longer wished to carry the burden of. 

You felt like you deserve the chance to clear yourself of this mess and you were willing to explore what the universe had to offer you now. If it had so spurred you into risking hypothermia enough to end up at someone's door who could in fact be your saving grace. Someone who believes that love is all but a load of bullshit, then maybe Park Chanyeol might actually be the one for you. And, you could definitely rely on him to help you piece your broken heart together without having to worry about the perpetual matters of love. You wanted to step into the light, without having to look back again. 

And you were glad you could seek the light past love and its hazy horizon for once.

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A hoard of concerns were lurking before you. With all your clothes soaked and dirty now, including your garments, you stood in front of the dresser, scratching your head in confusion. 

Huffing away, you put Chanyeol's t-shirt on which had engulfed you completely, all the way down to your knees. The most frustrating part however, were the shorts he picked for you. They didn't sit at your hips at all and had drooped down your legs the minute you put them on, instantly piling at your feet. 'How the fuck am I supposed to secure this?' You fretted, shrugging as you picked them back up. 

You tried again but failed miserably. It would be fucking awkward walking back into the kitchen, dressed only in his shirt. You had absolutely nothing on underneath. Fuck. It's not like you were going to touch him or anything. You can manage this and maybe he won't notice, right? It was your last resort and you quickly had to make your mind up. Out of nowhere you heard your stomach growl again. It was either do or die now. You had to decide. 'I'll keep my distance from him and he won't bat an eye' were the words you chanted to yourself before leaving the bedroom. 

As you walked back into the living room, your ears were invited by the soft music playing from the record player, the one that was by the glass shelf. You stopped by the dining table facing Chanyeol's back who was busy in the kitchen. The aroma of pancakes whiffed through the air and the atmosphere was perfectly cozy. Although, you didn't dare move from the table and decided to keep yourself away and at a distance. Then Chanyeol turned around and his eyes flew wide open in surprise. 

"What the fu– ...you startled me." He yelped, placing the pan back on the stove and clutching at his heart. "I thought I already had you stricken with horror when you first opened the door," you snorted, "I looked horrendous, didn't I?" Chanyeol simply shook his head in denial and retorted with a playful smirk. "You looked quite hot. I'm not gonna lie."

"Shut up, Chanyeol." You felt your face flushing an awful shade of pink at his remarks. "It's the truth, babe." He quipped, whirling about and chuckling away as he returned his attention towards cooking the pancakes again. "Come here, you need to eat!" he called out and your limbs immediately went limp. 

"Um, can you place it on the counter for me?" you purred, requesting him in your humblest tone. "I'm..kinda.. in a fix here." Your voice wavered and when Chanyeol turned around to look at you again, he grinned sheepishly. "What's wrong?" he asked you as if he had no clue what you were going on about.

"It's an embarrassing...outfit situation." You cleared your throat and Chanyeol quickly mouthed an 'oh'. "It doesn't sound like much of a problem to me." He rasped, dripping maple syrup on pancakes. "Your belly needs some food and that's more important." He then brought the plate with the freshly made pancakes and placed it on the counter and ushered you warmly to join him at the island. His voice suddenly grew a little stern. "Come on now before it gets cold." His sudden strictness made you chuckle. He possibly can't get more adorable than this, can he?

"Fine." You faltered in your steps and met him at the island. Thankfully, the structure blocked a good amount of distance between you two. When you settled down on the stool, he handed you the fork and you started taking measly bites out of the plate. Chanyeol watched you intently, his arms were propped up against the counter, hands cupped around his face as he gaped at you in awe. "Stop looking at me like that. You're making me nervous." You mumbled in between bites. He gave you a squinty eyed grin before snatching the fork away from your hands and making you gasp. 

"Geez baby, you're supposed to wolf it down." He cut through the pancake haphazardly and jabbed at a huge chunk, "like this." He then shoved the massive bite into your mouth and a muffled moan left your lips as you swallowed it down. "This will fill you up." He then glanced  at your lips coated with the sweet syrup hazily and mumbled huskily in his deep voice. "God, I could fill you up."

Of course you were going to choke upon hearing what he had just said. You wheezed frantically and couldn't pluck enough courage to look him in the eye anymore. Your heart thundered in your chest as you squirmed and scooted anxiously away from him, a faint blush spreading over your cheeks. You could tell he was violently biting down on his bottom lip, shutting his own eyes close, as tightly as he could. 

You both were awfully quiet again. Too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. But then Chanyeol interjects, breaking the awkwardness, "I didn't mean to…" 

 "D-don't.. worry about it," you bite on your own lip and jab at your pancake with your fork. He looks at you cryptically, "are you sure?" 

You nod your head and lick your lips and when you do, something triggers Chanyeol and he quickly gets off his stool and much to your relief walks back to the stove with an excuse to make you more pancakes. You try to gobble the rest of the pancake as quickly as you can while trying your best not to dither about what had just happened. As soon as you're done, you pick your plate up and scamper towards the sink but Chanyeol blocks you. "Woah, hold up. You're not done eating until I say so." He looms over you and his voice is yet again, stern and you push him away and boy you wish you didn't. 

The second your palm came in contact with his abs  through the fabric you knew you fucked up. You could feel the ridges and he was so perfectly packed and built. The girls at uni, they were right. Park Chanyeol was irresistible and you were only inches away from him.

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A/N ~ 

this is it guys. it’s broken and full of errors lol. i lost the doc that had everything written beyond this.  i had wiped my drive for work last year and other reasons. anyway,  i’m happy you made it this far with me in this clouded journey. if you wish to find out what happens after, feel free to ping me i’ll sum it up for you, sweet & short, only if you really wish to find out how these two end up haha. but yeah. this is it. i haven’t got anything else to say. so yeah, stay safe and most importantly, be happy. love y’all. <3

Taglist ♡  @loeyprivvv @littleflowercrown13 @wifechungha  @rashidamesrur  @mindofthescattered @zessafg @always-wishing-for-rain  @brazilianbasicbitch @kpopfessions-blog @baek-byunies @j-pping @godexosblog @hansolturnt @anyh0w @fire-poppyqueen @smolmel @nanasupremacy​ @chanyeolparkriswu✧  Note - If I have forgotten to tag anyone! I’m sorry, I lost the doc where I kept track of you guys so, this is all I got. 

[astridthevalkyrie]

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

from summer rain chapter 2.

NOW ASTRID. WE DESERVE AN EXPLANATION AS TO WHY LEVI IS THE SEXIEST, MOST INFURIATING MAN IN THE SUPERIOR UNIVERSE. this was the scene that got me HOOKED on this story you and I would love to know how you went about writing this, if this was a scene you had planned OR it developed as you wrote it? I need Levi’s thoughts on this whole interaction, I need author’s commentary, I need to pick apart your brain on this one my love

absolutely! let's talk about what i'm pretty sure is everyone's favorite scene in superior :D

i cannot tell you how the hell i dreamt this up. i'm preeetty sure i really was just eating a sweet tart or something and thought about feeding it to someone, and because i had—and have—levi brainrot i thought about feeding it to him specifically. and this was around when i was writing pirouette or warmth, probably, so it kinda just filed into my head as a scene to add when i began writing summer rain.

when i began outlining that story, i knew that i wanted it to be the end of the chapter. it's supposed to be frustrating, exciting, butterfly-inducing, and that meant it had to be at the end of the chapter so readers would be left off with no relief. imo, it's probably the sexiest scene in superior including the actual smut. actually, at that time i wasn't even sure i wanted to write smut in the series at all because i'd never written it before. when i began outlining silent storms, i decided to go for it. a large part of that was because i was really satisfied with how this scene came out.

so i put it in the outline, and when i was actually writing it i swear it wrote itself. it was like a movie playing in my head, i was physically watching levi's teeth close around the sweet. and that last line he says? that was completely spur of the moment because as i went i was like oh reader is definitely thinking ab him going down on her in this very moment and he absolutely has to make it worse.

as for levi's pov, i touched on it briefly in silent storms, this is the part:

Stealing food from the kitchens? Now, that’s just a new level of disobedience. Another punishment is in order. Except this time, there’s no one watching. Knocking her down now won’t be any fun at all. And suddenly, as he watches her splutter out excuses in her stupid expensive-looking nightgown stealing what should have been on his plate tomorrow night, Levi is starving. She’s fucking beautiful. Lips falling slightly open in shock as she watches him, a hypnotized look in her eyes. He takes his time swallowing. He wants her to keep looking at him with that exact fascinated expression, like it’s the most interesting fucking thing she’s ever seen. And when she offers him another bite, he can’t help but smirk. What a delectable sight. The pastry isn’t nearly as delicious as the feeling of her lips pressed against his cheek. It sends shivers straight down his back, reminding him that they’re still standing in the middle of the base, and that devouring her, while certainly an enjoyable thought, isn’t something he should be considering. Not here, not now, not ever. This girl. She’s tempting him, and he’s letting himself be tempted.

levi fell first. he fell first, he fell hard. reader suspects in the first chapter of summer rain that he's only picking on her because he has a crush and she's honestly not totally wrong. (he picks on her because she catches his eye and because he decides he doesn't want her to die so she has to toughen up) so as much as his logical side is telling him not to mess with her at any given opportunity, he's able to explain it away every time he actually wants to spend time with her. she's breaking curfew, she's being stupid, she needs to be trained.

the kiss on the cheek was also unplanned when i was writing it, but i needed a bucket of cold water to be dumped on both of them. like, calm down, you're standing in the middle of some random hallway in the base. levi knows that, he never intends to kiss her, it's just nice to infuriate her the same way she unknowingly infuriates him.

and reader? this was probably the first time her feelings went from "he is an objectively attractive man i dislike" to "oh my god i would jump in bed with him at the snap of a finger"

[hotpotrandomfics]

Reincarnated Love: Beginnings and Fateful Meetings

Summary: Ciel is boy who lives an average life with his father but on the day of his birthday things started to change. What comes next will forever destroy the old life he has a rebirth was to come soon. Old souls will meet for the first time and new bonds will begin to grow into existence.

Word Count: 6,175

What is it to love; what is it to desire? No one can truly say for those feelings are two separate roads one's heart is torn to follow and it is a path that is never easy to navigate. Two such individuals follow that path unbeknownst to themselves as this unforeseen bond transcends time and the will of the Gods. This tale is of a boy who bends fate to his will and a goddess who will let to embrace the one she has yearned for over six millennia. Who says love doesn't go beyond time? Only fools...

Our story begins on March 7th, 2009, it was the birthday of Ciel Ambrose Silverstein and for most kids his age they would be happy to be another year older, but he didn't see much joy as he never really had friends to spend it with, only his dad. It wasn't as though he didn't care for his dad Ciel loved his dad as he was the closes thing to a best friend he has. The two lived in a single-story house within walking distance of his father's cafe, Crossroads Cafe, a simple hole-in-the-wall place that Ciel has many fond memories of. 

Ciel climbed out of bed like any morning, heading to the bathroom adjacent to his closet door. He washed his face and brushed his teeth as his dad was big on personal hygiene. After doing that, Ciel went to his closet and grabbed his favorite jeans, '09 Nike Pegasus sneakers, the Linkin Park shirt his dad bought at last night's concert (dad was the best), and his pullover hoodie. Once dressed and hair brushed, Ciel made his way to the kitchen and made himself a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

"Good morning troublemaker," said a deep British voice, a blonde man with sky blue eyes and scruff on his face gave the boy a loving pat on his head. "Sleep okay after that mayhem?"

"Yeah! That was so awesome, thanks, Dad!" Ciel said with a mouth full of cereal. 

"Manners young man," said his father with a grin as he filled his favorite mug (number one dad) as he looked at his son. "I keep my promises to you don't I?"

Nodding, Ciel finished the cereal in his mouth before elaborating. "You always do Dad and I appreciate it. Even if your jokes are corny."

"Hey, my jokes are amazing and you love them," his father tried defending himself.

"Only because you look like a dork." Ciel laughed as his dad glared at him sternly before joining in the laugh. The two discussed the highlights of the concert from the guitar solos and the moments where fans got "too happy" and did stuff a twelve-year-old shouldn't witness.

The family of two left their home for a morning walk, it was a mandatory activity in the household something Alex did with his father. Alex liked to share moments like that with his son to show him the joys of nature and talk to him about the world. Explaining many things and here the views of the world from his son's perspective. Ciel from how Alex saw him was intelligent, not academically, but his views of the natural balance of society and nature were something a philosopher would find intriguing. There is a joy to find in society's progress but one must not forget where man and woman came from. Alex would question his son to try and understand the meaning of his surroundings and why did events take place.

For Ciel, answering his father's questions was no simple feat but rather a mountain range he must climb as he navigates for an answer. His father wouldn't simply give him the answers as that would defeat the purpose of hearing Ciel's thoughts. Often than not, Alex would ask if he believed in destiny and fate though the answer Ciel gave him was more so a question to his. "Are fate and destiny not the same thing, or are the two entwined?" He would ask his father who would contemplate the question himself as the two discussed such matters that surprised many eavesdroppers.

"Are you still having those nightmares and daydreams?" Alex asked as the two made their second lap around the block.

"Yeah," Ciel rubbed the back of his neck, "I still see those things. Spirits? Is it normal dad?"

"I can't say for certain," Alex said as he looked to his son who's expression became downcasted. "However, I think there is a reason why you can see those spirits. Can you guess why?"

"Fate?" the boy questioned.

"Possibly," Alex smiled as he tossed his son's hair. "But I like to believe there is a reason for everything, mi hijo."

"Dad!" Ciel whined as he brushed his dad's hand away before giving a small smile to the elder Silverstein. "Can we head back?"

"After just two blocks? Laaazy, but fine since it's your birthday." Alex placed a hand on Ciel's shoulder as the two walked back to their home.

As the two made it to their area of the neighborhood, Ciel notices the door was slightly ajar. Ciel stopped short of the door, looking around his porch nervously of his surroundings. "Dad, somethings off. You locked the door before we left."

"Stay behind me," Alex said as he pushed the door in slowly. Stepping in, they heard a noise coming from the direction of the kitchen. Alex stepped cautiously through the dimly lit hall with Ciel behind him. Granted, it wasn't the smartest idea to have his son follow him into a possibly dangerous situation but the man rather his child be close to him so he may defend him. As the duo passed the threshold into the kitchen to find the culprit who was a woman. 

She stood at five-foot-nine with olive-colored skin that was as flawless as marble. Her hair was a deep black that had a hint of violet as the sun from the kitchen window reflected on her flowing locks. Though her eyes were something to behold, a strong emerald green that had an ever-slight glow to it. The woman wore a burgundy gown and a light assortment of golden jewelry. The woman glanced at the two men before smiling as she raised a cup of tea to her lips.

"Here I come out of my way in my busy schedule and much to my surprise you two aren't who. Really?" the woman said as she placed the cup on the counter.

"Hecate," Alex muttered, "I..."

"It's been too long, Alex. Well, long from the mortal life but it still does not mean I haven't missed your company."

The two adults stared intensely at each other before a loud cough broke the silence.

"Dad, who is she? How does she know you? And why DID SHE BREAK INTO OUR HOUSE?" Ciel asked in worried confusion.

"Relax son," Alex placed a hand on Ciel in the usual comforting manner he did when his son wasn't sure of something. "This is Hecate, she's an old friend. She was around when you were born actually."

"She knows me? She's not some crazy ex?" Ciel inquired causing the woman to laugh.

"My, he has a similar wit to you but I see it's at a younger age. Yes, boy, I've known of you for a long time." The woman gave a small smile that was almost... motherly. "Alex, as much as I would want to be here for more personal reasons I have some news to give you."

"Ciel, go to your room. Hecate and I need to talk." Alex ordered. "Don't worry, we'll go to that Chinese place you like after she and I talk."

"But dad-," Ciel tried to be apprehensive only for his father to give him a stern look.

"Now, Ciel." Nodding, Ciel walked to his room and closed his door, throwing himself on his bed.

"So much for a good birthday," Ciel thought as he buried his face into his pillow.

In the kitchen...

"You haven't told him?" Hecate asked as Alex paced in the kitchen.

"How can I? The boy has plenty to worry about and his mother coming back for a few minutes isn't going to fix that!" Alex growled. "Ciel is happy, he's safe and he doesn't need to deal with that nonsense!"

"Alex, please. The fate of the world is at stake and Chronos forces are on the rise!" Hecate argued back. "Ciel's best chance of survival is going to Camp Halfblood. It's not only your safety that I have in mind, I have his in mind as well."

"He's my son! I can't just let him go off knowing I might lose him!" Alex said as he leaned into the counter, looking out the window. "Please, don't make me do this Hecate."

"He won't be alone, I can assure you." Hecate walked over to him and placed a hand on Alex's. "There are events in place that even I am having difficulty seeing but at the center of it is Ciel. If our son is to survive he must go and train. He must become what he is destined to be."

"I wish it were not the case," Alex looked into Hecate's eyes as the man was on the verge of tears. "Will you guide him? Protect him?"

"You know I cannot do so directly," Hecate retorted before sighing. "Alex, there is something else. I've decided to side with Chronos."

"What?" Alex asked completely flabbergasted. "Are you out of your damned mind?!"

"Watch your tone with me," Hecate warned as her eyes flashed with power but Alex didn't back down.

"Now I am definitely not sending Ciel to that camp! You honestly think me so idiotic to send my flesh and blood up there and expect you to protect him? When you just told me you've sworn to help the god you helped stop in the past?" Alex pulled his hand away from hers as he fumed with anger. "How can you expect me to trust you with that bomb?!"

"Alex, I am tired of being seen as a minor goddess. Never receiving the respect I deserve. Time and again I am left with the "short end" as you claim it. I want to be worshipped and acknowledge as I deserve to be." Hecate said as she turned her back to him. 

The goddess and the man stood in a silence that was a heavy indicator this visit was to be concluded.

"Is the acknowledgment of your children not enough?" Alex questioned as he glanced at the setting sun. "Or the men who have fathered them not enough? Heh, I guess not."

"Alex," Hecate thought begrudgingly as she glanced over her shoulders before disappearing into the shadows. Knowing fully she may have destroyed a bridge between Alex and her. The memories of their brief time together were something she deeply cherished and some of the best times she had in millennia. But her hopes for new world order will allow her to receive what she deserves.

"Dammit," Alex gripped the counter as his eyes redden from the tears he was holding in as the frustration that was bottled in began to leak. "Fate, you're truly cruel than any power in existence that has ever been and that has ever been."

After composing himself, Alex looked at the picture of him and Ciel from when he was five years. The two went to the Florida Keys and stayed in a BnB while having the time of their lives. It was on that trip that Ciel started seeing strange things. He told his father he saw a giant snake in the ocean. If Alex remembered anything from his history classes back in the United Kingdom much of the mythological stories did explain gods, goddesses, heroes, and monsters. Alex was a young father, with no experience with kids whatsoever but when it came to his boy it all made sense for him, even if the talks of monsters seem ludicrous. 

With no help from anyone he thought he did a decent job with him but Hecate coming to them and warning him of war. How was he supposed to explain this to his son? How could he make that trip up the east coast? But as much as he didn't wish to admit she was right. A choice must be made even if it hurts them both. A father has to prepare their children for the threats of the world. Even if that threat is their kin.

For the next few months, Alex had spent most of his time mulling over the pros and cons. During this time Ciel questioned why his dad seemed to be in a sour mood and would brush off the question which only caused the boy to worry in silence. It was on Wednesday, the last day of school when Ciel was on the school bus back home he noticed something stranger than usuals. The ghost of the town kept pointing in the direction of his home which only creeped him out even further. On the driveway of their home, Alex stood in front of his car as his son disembarked from the bus and greeted him. 

"Hey dad, you're home early," Ciel said as he walked to his dad. "Slow day at the cafe?"

"I closed early. Son, there is something we need to talk about." Alex said causing Ciel to quirk a brow.

"Something wrong?"

"Not at the moment but the way things are looking we need to leave," Alex said as he goes into the driver seat of his car with his son the following suit and entering the passenger side.

"Dad, what's going on?" 

"I'm taking you somewhere I never thought I'd have to take you," Alex responded as he pulled out of his driveway and beginning the long drive to the hopeful haven for his son. 

The drive up to this place was filled with much silence and no talking between the father-son duo, whenever Ciel tried to start a conversation the words wouldn't leave his throat, instead, he just watched the change of scenery as they drove up the east coast. They'd only stop for the occasional rest stop and food before continuing the drive further and further from home. 

It was two in the morning when they had reached their destination, Alex took a turn into a strawberry farm called "Delphi Strawberry Service," and followed the dirt road it was on to the nearby forest. As they drew closer lights of a fire could be seen through the canopy of the forest. Once the dirt road had finished, Alex stopped and parked the car outside of the marble gate that was in Ancient Greek but for some reason, Ciel could read it.

"Camp Half-Blood?" Ciel asked his father who stepped out of the car and made his way to the trunk where he pulled out a duffle bag for Ciel. Packed with clothes, the necessities, and his son's favorite book that Alex read to him, the Aeneid.

"Son, you'll be safe here," Alex said as he stepped to the passenger to let Ciel out of the car.

"Dad? What do you mean I'll be safe here?!" Ciel looked up to the older Silverstein who seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"Mi hijo, you're special and I don't mean in the "dad thinks you're his special boy." No, you are destined for something great but the trials you face in the future going to be hard. You'll be okay, you're my strong warrior." Alex smiled as he kneeled kissing his son's forehead.

"Daaad, that's embarrassing!" Ciel slightly pouted from embarrassment. Alex could only chuckle as he took Ciel by the shoulder and guided him to the gate, waiting for them was something Ciel could not expect.

"Ah! What the heck is that?!" Ciel said as he clung to his dad. The pair looked to a man with long brown hair whose upper body was in a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up but what freaked Ciel out was the man's lower half was that of a horse.

"Ciel, don't be rude!" Alex chided. "Apologies, my son hasn't had much exposure to your world and even I find it unbelievable."

"It is of no worry," said an older voice. "Tell me, child, what is your name?"

"C-Ciel. Ciel Ambrose Silverstein, Mister?"

"It is a fine name. I am called Chiron. I am somewhat of a mentor for boys and girls like you."

"Like me?" Ciel titled his head to the left in confusion as he gazed at the centaur.

"Demigods, heroes, and great warriors," Chiron said with a gentle smile before glancing at Alex. "I shall give you a moment." Chiron walked a short distance to be out of earshot and let the two say their goodbyes.

"I will come and get you at the end of the summer, okay?" Alex said as knelt down to be at his son's eye level. "I know I can't give you all the answers but-"

"So you're abandoning me?!" Ciel shouted at his father who looked shocked at such an accusation.

"No! Heavens no," Alex gripped his son's shoulders, "but I can't protect you son and I couldn't bear the thought of you dying or being hurt. I need you to be safe and I know you will be here, so please, trust me and what I say. Have I ever lied to you?"

Ciel thought for a moment about his father's words before answering. "No, sir."

"I love you, Ciel." Alex pulled his son into a hug while Ciel returned the same affection.

After a few moments, the two separated and Ciel grabbed his bag and walked to the gates. Waving "goodbye" to his father and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

"Hecate, you better protect my son." Alex wiped the tears from his eyes before entering his car and driving back the way he came. Leaving his son to the Fates and the gods. 

The next day Ciel was guided by one of the older campers through Camp Half-Blood. It didn't take long to learn the location for where everything was but Ciel was still cautious of everything around him. From the sounds of the forge to the pranking of the Hermes kids and the sight of the lava wall, he was convinced he'd probably die here. Though during breakfast he met two campers briefly, Justin and Lucille Peters, a brother and sister pair who have two different godly parents from how they explained it. Justin was a son of Apollo and Lucille was a daughter of Hephestus, it was odd how they'd have different godly parents but then again Ciel didn't know his. From what he could gather it seemed most of the kids here were of the twelve major Olympian gods while you had a mixed population of demigods born from minor gods or demigods whose parents haven't claimed them. Some demigods weren't claimed for years or if ever at all and it was a sad fact.

Ciel counted himself lucky that he at least had his dad and hoped he was right about coming here. Though it did beg the question, who was his godly parent, and would he be claimed tonight or never at all? Questions for later but for the time being Ciel would just take in his surroundings until he was comfortable to walk on his own. The Hermes kid let him know if he had any questions to not be shy and ask any of the older campers to which he nodded. 

Ciel would wander through the camp until he felt a hand on his back, instantly, he jumped in a slight panic.

"Oops, sorry I didn't mean to spook you," said the boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, and a prosthetic leg. "I just wanted to introduce myself, my name is Justin Peters. What's yours?"

"Um, I'm Ciel Ambrose Silverstein. Wait aren't you the kid from earlier?" Ciel asked.

"Yep! Thought you would like some company you know since your new and all. Don't worry, me and my sister were in the same boat about a year ago. We're lucky we have each other but it's hard the first few days." Justin said with a smile.

"I suppose. Sorry, I'm not really with people."

"Oh don't worry about it! We can work on that together if you'd like." Justin responded to which Ciel couldn't help but smile. "So wanna do something fun?"

"Uh, sure?" Ciel responded.

"Great!" Justin said as he took hold of Ciel's arm, pulling him to the archery field. The two boys had shown up in the archery field meeting with the instructor, another child of Apollo, to who Justin introduced Ciel while explaining him being a new camper and was going to show him a little archery. Justin's older sibling advises him to take it slow with instructions to Ciel. Following the instructions of the older child and grabbing a pair of bows and two quivers of arrows. Justin began instructing Ciel on the principles of archery while going into depth about the anatomy of a bow and arrow. Ciel took to the instructions like a fish to the water as Justin helped Ciel get the posture down and load an arrow to fire.

For some reason, this felt natural to Ciel from the grip of the bow in his left hand and the fletching of the arrow in his right. Taking a steady breath to get his breathing in rhythm before brought the arrow up, lining his shot then fire...

"By the gods!" Justin said in surprise as he saw the direction of Ciel's arrow whizzing through the air hitting a bull's eye. "Ciel! That was amazing! And you said you never shot a bow and arrow ever?"

"N-no," Ciel responded shyly, "but it just felt natural, ya know?"

"We might have another son of Apollo on our hands," Justin said giving his new friend a love tap to the shoulder before laughing. Ciel could only shake his head and laugh.

"Hey! Justin! I made a new thing!" a girl shouted as she ran to the two boys almost going through the line of fire on the archery range. She was brunette covered in soot and grease but wore a warm smile and a pair of goggles on her head.

"Lucy! Careful! Remember there are people shooting arrows here!" Justin chided his sister.

"Oops, sorry it's just I'm a little excited because I wanna show you something." Lucille, a girl no older than nine showed the two boys a small bronze bull. At first, it seemed like a little figure until it started moving and mooing.

"Wow, that's cool!" Ciel said as he looked at the girl's creation. "You made that?"

"Yep! Wait, you're the new boy! I'm Lucille but my friends and family call me Lucy," the girl said as she offered her right hand, though covered in oil and grease, Ciel shook it kindly as to not seem rude.

"I'm Ciel, it's nice to meet you, Lucille."

"Call me Lucy, if you're a friend of my brother then you're a friend of mine." The girl gave a kind smile to Ciel to which he returned in kind.

"Lucy, you want to see something cool?" Justin asked as he turned to Ciel.

"Sure!" Lucille responded excitedly. 

With an encouraging nod from Justin, Ciel loaded another arrow into his bow and fired, landing a bull's eye again. What could be acquainted with sheer luck was something in the making. To Ciel, each arrow fired was liberating like it was something only he could do and do in confidence. 

His display was drawing a small crowd from all the other campers on the field who huddled behind the twelve-year-old who had no prior experience with archery. The crow was captivated by the display and lost it when Ciel finished off by sending the last arrow straight through one of his previously fired arrows. The crowd behind the ever ignorant Ciel clapped and caused him to yelp in surprise getting a chuckle from the crowd of campers. After a few words of praise and hopeful wishes from the children of Apollo, Ciel left the archery range with a very bubbly Lucille and Justin dragging him around the camp for a second tour. Granted he seen the majority of the camp but to be in the company of kids closer to his age was comforting. 

For the rest of the day, Ciel spent it with the Peters siblings having fun but he still was a little sad. When the siblings weren't looking Ciel would wipe tears that threaten to escape. The trio would split off during dinner at the pavilion where Ciel had some time to think to himself. He had a plate of pizza and garlic bread and was enjoying the greasy carb meal. When he was done he tossed half a piece of garlic bread into the flames that other campers were doing to sacrifice to the gods. Hopefully, his parent liked garlic bread otherwise that would be a crime of the most unforgivable kind.

Once dinner was finished, Ciel made his way to the bonfire getting a seat away from the crowd of campers flocking in. Instead of sitting on a long, he sat on the dirt finding it was more than enough and so he could lean his back against the long as he gazed at the stars. He took his attention away from the sky when Chiron called for the attention of the campers to which they all listened.

"Good evening, heroes." Chiron's voice was soft but loud enough to be heard. "Tonight we have someone new and he is someone I suggest we take notice of since he had an impressive display at the archery field. Come on here," Chiron motioned for Ciel to go and stand next to him, Ciel did so nervously as he walked over to stand to the centaur. "Introduce yourself, don't be shy."

"Um, hi! I'm Ciel and I'm from Florida," he rubbed the back of his neck in the nervous tick he had. 

"Tell us more!" Justin shouted from where he was sitting with Lucille who mimicked her brother's shout. 

"Uh, I don't really got anything interesting-" Ciel was cut off as a circle of flames surrounded him causing Chiron to move out of the way from the strong flames. The campfire behind rose fifteen feet into the air and changing between blue and violet shades from the flames and a pair of violet torches hovered over Ciel's head. He was scared of the fire but it didn't hurt him. Whether out of stupidity or curiosity, Ciel reaches to the flames with his left hand and the flames died down until the campfire turned back to normal.

"What the hell just happened?!" Ciel shouted then covered his mouth, that wasn't a good impression. "Sorry..."

"Language aside," Chiron started as he looked to the boy, "you've been claimed child by a powerful goddess, the Titaness, Hecate. Congratulations."

A few weeks later... 

Ciel was at the archery fields as it became his favorite pastime here at camp. Justin, his new best friend, would come out with him and have shooting competitions. It was the perfect motivator to want to get better because Justin was a son of the god of archery so he had some amazing skill but Ciel was always able to make them break even in their little contest. It would get Justin to pout but he didn't pout for long as the two would always break into a laughing fit. Justin was a good friend to Ciel when he hadn't had one for such a long time and was good at getting him out of his shell for pretty much everything. Even Lucille would watch their contest and act as a judge for fun, though she would get squirrelly and would just start tinkering with whatever little project she brought with her.

Granted, after being claimed and being one of the few children of Hecate, his siblings did teach him what their mother represented and provide him with what comfort they could. Though it seems that children of Hecate are introverted beyond belief which wasn't bad. The thing enjoyed with his demigod siblings was learning magic but he hasn't shown any ability in that area yet. For now, though he'll play to what he's a natural at that being archery and surprisingly tracking.

Ciel had been trying to mimic some of the older archers by doing certain movements such as quickdraws, shooting multiple arrows, shooting from different stances. All of which were becoming easier each day he practice. While doing one of his unique shots he heard footsteps coming his way, landing the bull's eye he heard clapping behind him. 

Turning he was met by the sight of a gorgeous girl that was around his age. She had auburn hair, yellow eyes that had a hint of silver, and pale white skin. She wore combat boots, winter camo pants, and a white parka. Equipment-wise, she was carrying a silver bow with a matching quiver, and a combat knife on her hip.

"You shoot well for someone so young," the girl said.

"We are around the same age as far as I can tell," Ciel responded as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Do you not know who I am?" the girl asked as her brow quirked up.

"Should I? I have only been here for a few weeks. Sorry." Ciel said rubbing his neck nervously.

"I see, well, my name is Artemis."

"Like the goddess?" Ciel questioned.

"The very same," Artemis responded, "but your assessment is a little off because I am that goddess." Ciel's face went as pale as what was possible for a man of his skin tone could. Kneeling in a panic Ciel when ahead and face-planted. 

"Ow!" Ciel whined as Artemis let out a light chuckle. "Sorry," he said as stood back up, "I hope I didn't offend you Lady Artemis."

"You did no such thing, but you did however amused me with your attempt at trying to be respectful. I will let it slide," Artemis said as she regained her composure. "You're quite skilled with that bow of yours. Are you a child of my brother, Ares, or Athena?" the goddess inquired to which Ciel shook his head "no."

"I'm a son of Hecate," the nervous boy said, "allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Ciel Ambrose Silverstein and it's an honor to meet you Lady Artemis. I've only known about this world for only a few weeks but I'm trying to learn. So I do apologize in advance if I don't know something or do something wrong."

"You're quite mature for only what, eleven?" Artemis questioned.

"Twelve, actually."

"Your father a hunter?" 

"No."

"Then how can you handle a bow so well? I imagine you have no experience from how you just explained yourself." 

"Oh, you be right there but it's just strange, it just feels natural to have a bow in my hand," Ciel said as he glanced at his bow with a small smile. "It's weird but it's a familiar feeling, I probably am not making any sense am I?"

"You are," Artemis said as she looked at the young boy before an idea came to mind. "Say, Ciel was it? Care to have a friendly competition?"

"A competition?" Ciel asked as he glanced at the goddess.

"Nothing too insane, just an archery competition between the two of us." Artemis looked at the boy with a challenging look in her eyes.

"I'm not sure if I am worthy or skilled enough to compete against you," Ciel hesitated though Artemis shot him a stern glare. "But I'd be happy to face you Lady Artemis."

"Excellent," Artemis smirked as she took a stance next to the child of Hecate. "First to twenty-five bull's eye?" Ciel nodded in agreement as his nervous deemer hardens into that of someone serious.

The two went on Artemis signal as they began their competition, the two let their arrows fly one by one. As the competition was underway, a gathering of campers and some of the Hunters of Artemis watched the display of skill between the goddess and the demigod. The two were three for three, Artemis clearly the more skilled but Ciel's natural ability was making the match slightly more even. Artemis glanced over to see that Ciel wasn't gonna submit easily so she decided to get a bit more showie by shooting at a faster rate. Ciel noticed this and began speeding his rate of fire to which caused Artemis to grin slightly.

"Not bad kid, but I'm better," Artemis thought as she kept hitting the target repeatedly, her arrows slicing clean through her arrows. 

It seemed Artemis was about to win one step closer to victory only to be shocked with how Ciel kept a steady pace as her. Each breath was released with each arrow with such accuracy that Artemis had to admit she was impressed. No mortal has shown this level of skill for so long in her existence, only two men ever showed this level of skill but they were long gone. Men she hadn't thought of for a few centuries as she had gotten over their deaths ages ago.

The goddess and the demigod were on their last arrow, this last shot would determine the victor and Artemis wasn't going to lose this. With such quickness, she shot her arrow and landing perfectly on her target. Turning to her adversary with a grin, believing she won Ciel had surprised her by landing a perfect bull's eye that shattered the last arrow he shot causing a-

"No way! A tie?!" one random demigod shouted.

Ciel dropped to his knees panting as a blanket of sweat cascaded his face. He looked to his target surprised he even kept up at all. His arms were aching and he was exhausted trying not to fall behind. It was one thing to compete against Justin but against the Goddess of the Hunt? Nope, not an easy task and not one he'd forget for the longest time. 

"Well, you seem pretty capable. Well done, but don't let this get to your head." Artemis warned.

"Why would I do that? This was fun Lady Artemis," Ciel panted as he looked to the goddess who gave him a narrow eye glare before giving him a small smirk, shaking her head.

"You're an odd one, I expect you to do better the next time and give me a real competition next time."

"There's gonna be the next time?" Ciel gulped.

"Of course," Artemis said sternly, "I am a goddess and I am not one to let someone get the better of me. Especially, to a man."

"I um hope to give you a good competition then?" Ciel said as Artemis walked off with her Hunters in toe. After Artemis left the archery field, Ciel was stormed by Justin and Lucille who began questioning why he was competing against Artemis. How was able to tie and was a secret descendant of Apollo from previous generations. He tried to answer but Justin and Lucille shaking him like a maraca was not helping with him trying to explain himself to them.

While Artemis had walked away with her Hunters, her sister Thalia decides to try and ask the goddess who simply brushed off the questioning. Thalia did make a light joke of Artemis seeing a cute boy but that only caused the goddess to shoot her the nastiest death glare anyone has seen for a while. It was quite humorous for the Hunters to see their lieutenant get nervous as they knew Artemis wasn't someone that would break her vow. As the Hunters talked amongst themselves in response to their astonishment at the young demigod skill their mistress was plagued by a quiet thought in her head. 

"He seems so much like those two. Huh, haven't thought of those two for some time. Maybe he might be good for the hunt in a few years? Mmm, no. Last men that join the hunt died..." Artemis sighed as she glanced back over her shoulder to the direction of where Ciel was. "Best not to dwell on it and tempt the Fates."

This summer would define Ciel's life forever. From being claimed by his mother who chose not to show up until Ciel's life was endangered, to make two friends, and now having a goddess as a rival? Fate truly was cruel but certain events have been set in motion and Ciel was at the center of it all. This was a new beginning for Ciel, he was important whether he realized it or not as his path has become intertwined with others. Hopefully, he can make the right choice or he may meet an untimely fate...

[kelyon]

Golden Cuffs 40: The Treat

Cover art by Best New Artist @paradigmparadoxical​

Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU

The evening reaches a climax. (Or several.)

Read on AO3 

Naked, sweaty, and throbbing from her recent orgasm, Belle lay in the center of a nest of pillows where Rumple had left her while he squared off with Leona Ogg.

“Mind if I sit?” Jefferson came up to her, unfolding a russet-orange blanket.

Belle let out a soft chuckle and patted an empty spot on the pillows. “You’ve been inside me,” she reminded him. “You don’t need permission to cuddle up.”

“Never hurts to ask, you never know when a lady might want to sit by herself.” He draped the blanket over her shoulders and settled in next to her. “But I really wanted to be here because this is the best view for the show.”

Resting her head on his bare chest, Belle joined Jefferson in watching Rumple and Leona. 

It wasn’t until that exact moment Belle realized that Leona was actually taller than Rumpelstiltskin. Though the woman was naked and flushed with pleasure, she held herself with the dignity of a mother goddess. Every inch of her was round and large and beautiful. 

Rumpelstiltskin was still clothed in his brocade dressing gown. It functioned as armor, to  conceal his skinny frame. The Dark One was a figure that most people underestimated at first, and that was part of his power. 

The two of them spoke, briefly and so softly that Belle couldn’t make out any words. When he had approached Leona, Rumple had called what they were doing a dance. But as she watched them circle each other, Belle saw it as more of a duel. They stayed apart from each other, at least an arm’s length away. Both of their bodies were tense, defensive--Leona’s shoulders were squared and Rumple was as still as a snake about to strike.  

“I think Leona touched a nerve,” Belle remarked, “when she told Rumple he wasn’t impressive.”

Jefferson chuckled and Belle felt it in his chest. “My wife can make friends with anybody. But she also has an amazing knack for knowing how to insult someone.”

“Did she mean to insult him?”

“She meant to get a reaction out of the Dark One,” Jefferson licked his lips as he watched them. “And I’d say she succeeded.”

The other two stepped marginally closer, both of them looking the other up and down, Leona gestured to Rumple’s robe and he shook his head. No, of course he wasn’t going to undress. He had fucked Belle every day for months before he had given her access to his body. He wasn’t going to expose himself to a stranger.

“Why do you call him that?” Belle looked up at Jefferson. “I’ve noticed you never call Rumple by name.”

“He never invited me to,” Jefferson shrugged. “He said that the name of the Dark One has power and I would be wise to use it only in times of greatest need.”

Nodding slowly, Belle watched the moment when Rumple finally put his hands on Leona. He held her by the shoulders and brushed back a lock of her yellow hair. Something had changed between the two of them, a softening. There was still tension in their body language, but it wasn’t as combative. They were still going to test each other, but the duel had become a sparring match, not a fight to the death.

“He ordered me to call him by his name,” Belle said. “I was afraid to at first, but that passed quickly.”

Jefferson wrapped his arms around her, both of them warm under the blanket. “You’re a really brave person, Belle.”

She snorted. “It’s easy to do the brave thing when you don’t have a choice. And it’s not just that he ordered me. I--I had to make him happy. I wanted to do what he wanted. I had to pay the price to save my people.”

His hand stroked her arm slowly. “Are you still worried about them? Is that why you feel like you don’t have a choice?”

In truth, Belle hadn’t thought of her family in months. She trusted that Rumple had saved them as he said he would. He had never threatened them, never so much as hinted that he would go back on their deal if she didn’t obey him. Of course, he had never needed to. From the beginning, Belle had wanted to fulfill her end of the bargain. She had wanted to be a good whore because that was the price he demanded. And now… 

Why did she want to make him happy now? Why did his opinion of her matter so much? He had spoken of his satisfaction with her many times. Why did she keep trying to exceed his expectations? Why did they keep going after more and more? Why wasn’t she ever satisfied?   

Before Belle could give these questions any more thought, a feminine gasp rang through the quiet room. Rumple had crouched down to put his head between Leona’s legs. Her stance wide, Leona threaded her hands through his hair and let out a breathy moan. 

“Oh yeah,” Jefferson whispered. He shifted next to Belle, squirming with excitement. “Gods, she’s so beautiful.”

“I’ve never seen Rumple with anyone else,” Belle said in a small voice.

Jefferson paused in his movements. His hand brushed over her arm, a gentle reassurance. “What do you think?” 

“He’s beautiful.”

He made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. “The things that man can do with his mouth…” A shiver ran through his body, and Belle felt herself shuddering. Her own desire fed off of his, off of watching the other two.

Leona tilted her head back, exposing her luscious throat. Rumple’s hands gripped into the flesh of her hips as he kept her mouth against her cunt. A jolt went through Belle when she realized that she was the last person who had pleasured Leona. Her mouth had been where Rumple was now. Was he thinking of that? Could he taste her or smell her, in the midst of Leona’s own tastes?

Belle put a hand to one of her breasts, dimly aware of how she was rocking back and forth. She was just as antsy as Jefferson.

“Should we touch each other?” she asked him. “Do you want to put your mouth on me?”

“Fuck,” Jefferson hissed through gritted teeth. 

When she looked up at him, his eyes were glassy. His hands had moved to his sides, tightening and releasing again and again. Between his legs, his cock was long and hard, red with arousal. 

“Better not,” he said after a moment. He closed his eyes and took a few breaths. “You know the Dark One has a plan. We--we should wait for his say so.”

“That makes sense,” Belle nodded, her hand still over her breast. She scooted away from Jefferson, just far enough to avoid temptation. 

The two of them kept watching. Belle heard Jefferson’s breath hitch when Rumpelstiltskin set Leona’s legs over his shoulders. She straddled him, and Belle could imagine Rumple’s face completely enveloped in Leona’s pleasure.

Belle could not have imagined that once Leona was situated on Rumple’s shoulders, he would then stand up and lift her into the air, his head still buried between her thighs. 

From the delighted squeals, it didn’t seem like Leona had expected it either. 

“Oh, well done,” Jefferson smiled. “That’s one way to use your talents!”

It had never surprised Belle how easily Rumple could lift her up and carry her when he needed to. She was a tiny thing--even a man without magic could throw her over his shoulders like a sack of flour. But Leona was a big girl. Leona was a mother, the sort of woman whose size was a part of her, had become a part of her personality.  For all her merriment, Leona was a sensible woman who usually had both feet set firmly on the ground. Had she ever dreamed that she could be, literally, swept off her feet?

“Hello up there!” Jefferson called.

Opening her eyes, Leona looked down at her husband and let out a burst of laughter. She kept one hand on the back of Rumple’s head, and covered her broad smile with the other. It was as though she were embarrassed to be caught in such a silly position.

Belle understood how she felt. Rumpelstiltskin was doing to Leona what he did to Belle so often: He was making her feel safe in an impossible situation. Belle remembered the first time he had used his mouth on her. How frightened she had been, laid out naked on a table, bound by the cuffs and unable to move. But he had told not to be afraid, and he had given her a pleasure she could never have imagined. 

He was in control. He had been stronger than Belle’s fear, and now he was strong enough to get Leona’s head in the clouds. His hands gripped into the flesh of her bottom, squeezing as he continued to work in her. Leona grunted and let her head fall onto her shoulders, waves of yellow hair falling down her back. 

She bit her lower lip, and Belle bit her own in sympathy. Her moans became louder and more frequent. With her free hand, Leona rubbed her neck, caressing herself down to her collarbone and to her large, plump breasts.

“Oh, fuck!” Jefferson whimpered. He sounded genuinely pained, distraught that he couldn’t take part in Leona’s pleasure himself. 

“Oh!” Leona crooned. She was grinding against Rumple now, rolling her hips and digging her heels into his back. Her toes spread out and curled back again and again.

Belle dug her nails into her thighs. The pain grounded her, kept her from being carried away entirely by the show. Was it possible to orgasm merely from watching someone else? More importantly, was that what Rumple wanted her to do?   

When Leona came, it was not with a cry, but with a prolonged silence. Her mouth opened, but there was no noise. Her pleasure had transcended the realm of sound. Her face contorted in ecstasy. Both hands clung to the back of Rumple’s head, twisting in his crinkly hair. Belle felt herself clenching and throbbing. Jefferson had pulled away from her and crawled closer to his wife. He watched them on his knees, a mortal worshiping these gods of pleasure.

Leona broke, loose and boneless. She began to fall, but Rumple caught her. He held her up with a quick burst of magic, until he could get her in his arms. He carried her over to them and he set her down with her head in Belle’s lap.

“Well?” he asked brightly. His face shone with Leona’s juices. “Did I impress you, Mrs. Ogg?” 

Eyes still closed, Leona nodded slowly. “You win. For now.” 

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. He bent at the waist and offered his face to Belle. “Will you clean me up, my sweet?”

Delighted to obey, Belle peppered him with small kisses. She licked Leona’s wetness off of his chin and cheeks.

Still on his knees, Jefferson crawled up to them. “My turn?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. 

It took a moment for Rumple to turn away from Belle. He straightened up and cupped Jefferson’s chin in his hands. “Stand up, my boy,” he said. “Come taste what I can do to your wife.”

With a needful moan, Jefferson scrambled to obey. Though he towered over Rumpelstiltskin, there was no question which one of them was in control of their kiss. Rumple grabbed Jefferson by the hair and pulled his head back, and Jefferson submitted happily.

While the two men kissed, Belle sat back on the floor, cradling Leona’s head in her lap. She draped the blanket over Leona’s flushed body and stroked the silky strands of her hair.  

“I suppose I understand it,” Leona said slowly as the two women watched the two men plunder each other’s mouths. “The appeal of him. But there’s more to being with someone than what goes on in bed.”

Belle nodded. “I know,” she said. “And sometimes I feel like there is more to him and me than that. But sometimes I feel like there isn’t.”

Leona reached up and squeezed Belle’s hand. “You’ll find your way, luv. I know you will.”

At long last, Jefferson and Rumple broke apart. 

“How do you want me?” Jefferson panted. “My mouth? My ass? Tell me, Dark One, you know I’m yours.” 

His hand reached down to the belt wrapped around Rumple’s waist, but Rumpelstiltskin grabbed him by the wrist and kept him away. 

“You’re not mine,” he said in a low voice. His eyes flicked from Jefferson’s collar to Leona and the matching collar she wore. “You belong to your wife. And I’ve asked you here to attend to Belle. That should be quite enough for one man.”

“But why limit ourselves?” Jefferson asked with a smile. “There’s enough of me to share.”

Rumpelstiltskin reached out and slowly wrapped his hand around Jefferson’s cock. Jefferson whimpered and Rumple chuckled darkly.

 “You’re fit to bursting, my boy. I could have you off in two strokes and then you’d be useless for another hour.”

Jefferson took a shaky breath and shook his head. “You know that isn’t true. You’ve used magic on me before. Time was, you couldn’t get enough of me.”

“Time was, you barely needed magic to get hard for me over and over again.” Rumple’s  grip tightened. Belle saw his thumb rub along Jefferson’s shaft. 

 A visible shudder went through Jefferson, from Rumple’s words or his grip or the memories. Then he sighed. “But I’m an old man now. I’ll need a little help if I’m going to come three times before I leave.”

“So let’s let it be only twice then.” Rumple released his grip. “Let’s give Belle a treat she’s never had before, hmm?”

Jefferson sagged, his eyes heavy and his jaw slack. He seemed to know a lost cause when he found one. “Yes, Dark One,” he murmured.

With a tight smile, Rumple nodded. He spun on his heel to face Belle and Leona. “Mrs. Ogg, are you recovered? Shall we move on?”

“You’re a fucking taskmaster,” Leona groaned and sat up. Then she snorted. “Literally! A taskmaster of fucking!” She rubbed her eyes. “But yes, I can keep going.”

“I believe you have a harness?”

Leona blinked a few times before chuckling in understanding. “So we’re doing one of those maneuvers then?”

“A grand finale, you might say.”

“A big bang.” Leona winked at Belle and got to her feet, walking over to the leather bag. 

Belle stood and went to Rumple. “What’s going on? What are you going to do?”

He gave her a smile, soft and gentle. “As I said, it’s something you’ve never done before, my sweet. But something I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

Without moving away from him, Belle turned to Leona. “What’s the harness you were talking about?”

“Come and see!” Leona held up an item. It seemed to be a wide band of brown leather, with cords or laces hanging off the ends. She pressed the leather against her lower curls. “Jefferson, come lace me up!”

As Jefferson hurried to his wife, Belle kept looking at the thing they called a harness. The cords laced in the back, almost like a corset for Leona’s bottom. It was a lovely item, with a raised design worked into the soft leather. It sat over Leona’s hips in a way that made her look powerful, confident. She was still mostly naked, but naked with a purpose, decorated in a way that mere nudity couldn’t compete with. 

“Is it a… girdle?”

Leona smiled and shook her head. She traced her fingers around an iron ring in the center of the leather on the front of the harness, just over her mound. “This is the important part,” she said. “This is where I can put a dildo.”

Belle blinked. 

“Oh,” she said after a moment. Her voice sounded a little higher than normal. “So a woman can just… have a cock… in the same place a man does.”

Leona nodded. “And, Mister Dark One, if you ever ask me to impress you, this is exactly how I’ll do it.”

Rumple gave her a wry smile. “If I am ever in the need for such a service, I’ll know exactly who to call.”

“It’s a good time, being on the other end of a cock.” Jefferson handed Leona one of the glass dildos and the jar of lubricant. “But you know that already.”

After thanking her husband with a kiss, Leona slid the dildo through the ring. She stood, tall and proud, her cock jutting out from her body.

Belle remembered how Regina had used magic to create such an effect on her own body. Leona was doing the same thing with a bit of glass and leather. For some reason, that thought made her smile. Regina had thought herself so powerful, so exceptional, for having a magical means to fuck like a man. But Leona could be just the same, without magic, and without evil.

Licking her lips, Belle took a few steps closer to Leona. They stood together, close enough that Belle could feel the dildo pressing long and hard against her stomach. The glass was cool, but Leona’s skin was warm. Belle wrapped her arms around Leona’s neck and they kissed, sweet and wet.

“Do you want to use that on me, Leo?” she asked. 

“Fuck yes I do,” Leona whispered. Then she straightened up and looked at Jefferson and Rumple. “But I’m not the only person in this room with a cock, my girl.”

Jefferson came up to them, his hands reaching out to touch both of them at once. “We all want you, Belle.” His voice was low, soft and heavy. “Will you let us have you?”

Belle looked over at Rumple. “All of you at once? Is that the plan?”

He nodded and stepped slowly in to the group. “It works out neatly, doesn’t it? There are three of us.” He reached out to her, brushed his thumb against her lips. “And you have three lovely holes. Would you like to try it? All of us inside you at once?”

She shuddered, trembled, almost came just from the thought of it. Jefferson and Leona were so close to her, so warm and so naked and so full of desire. And Rumple was there, watching her steadily, looking at her, wanting her. Belle’s hands clenched and her knees felt weak and her voice was a breath as she whispered, “Yes. Please.”

Rumple smiled and made one of his happy noises. “Excellent!” he said. Then he became businesslike, directing the the three of them like he was arranging furniture. “Now, Jefferson has already spoken for your sweet cunt. So I’ll have him lie on the ground and you straddle him. Do you understand, my boy?”

“Absolutely.” Jefferson took a moment to kiss his wife, and then Belle, before he got himself into position. He set a pillow underneath his head and spread out on the cushioned floor.

Belle took a moment to look down at Jefferson’s long body. His skin glistened with perspiration, adding new definition to the muscles in his arms and chest. Already flushed and disheveled from all they had done earlier, Jefferson looked to be a man on the brink of exhaustion. But his rigid cock was clearly ready for one last ride.

“Are you having a good time?” Belle asked as she spread her legs over his waist. She stroked his cock lightly, but didn’t put it inside her just yet.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “And it’s about to get even better.” 

“I’ve never had a man in here, besides Rumple.” 

Jefferson ran his hands up and down Belle’s legs. “He’s a tough act to follow. But I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

After lifting her body up for a moment, Belle let herself sink down onto Jefferson’s cock. She ground against him a little, finding the position that was most comfortable. She ran one hand from her face down to her neck, over her breasts and belly, to the place where the two of them joined. Then she moved her hand along Jefferson’s chest and abdomen and up to his neck, to his face. She held his jaw in her palm. 

“No, I don’t mind,” she said softly.

Leona touched Belle’s shoulder to get her attention before settling in behind her, between Jefferson’s legs. Belle couldn’t see what Leona was doing, but she trusted her. They had all been through enough together, Belle trusted everyone in the room. She heard the now-familiar sloshing of lubricant and felt Leona’s hand on her back.

“Bend over, little one,” she said. “Give Jefferson a kiss for me, huh?”

Belle did as she was told, leaning forward over Jefferson’s body while his wife slowly slid a dildo into her ass. She kissed Jefferson once, but had to break away as the feeling overtook her. 

“Oh,” Belle gulped. It didn’t hurt, to be penetrated in two places at once. Her body was too slick and open for it to hurt. But it was so much that pleasure and pain and sensation became mixed-up in her mind and body. No matter how she positioned herself, something filled her to the brim. It overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe.

Jefferson noticed her distress. “Take my hands,” he offered. “Rest your weight on me, Belle. I’ll lift you up. You’ll be okay.”

Neither of them had moved, but Belle was already twitching. Her cunt clenched around Jefferson--and then she felt the echo of that sensation in her ass. Her upper half fell onto Jefferson, and he slowly pushed her back up so she sat on her heels. Her body swayed of its own accord.

“You’re so good,” Leona whispered, reaching around to touch her breasts. She pinched a nipple and Belle let out a high, keening moan.

Jefferson grunted and bucked his hips at the noise. That motion forced Belle up and then backwards onto Leona’s dildo. Leona made a sound of her own, which made Belle gasp and grind down onto Jefferson. It was a cycle of pleasure that might have gone on forever if Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t stepped in. 

“Belle,” he whispered. It was only one word, but it was enough.

She felt the sensations in her body fade away, even as Jefferson and Leona began to put forth more effort. It didn’t matter anymore. They could thrust and bang at her until the end of time and she wouldn’t notice while Rumple had her attention. 

Still in his dressing gown, he stepped closer to her. Facing her, he stood with his feet on either side of Jefferson’s chest. He was wearing slippers. Belle hadn’t noticed before. 

“My girl,” he said softly as he brushed her hair away from her face. “My sweet, beautiful, woman.”

“Rumple,” she breathed his name, closed her eyes to savor the word. Regular people were afraid to say the Dark One’s true name. If even Jefferson didn’t say it, how often did Rumple hear it? Only when people called him to make a deal? But he had ordered Belle to use it, a gift he had forced her to take. Gratefully, Belle said it again, “Rumpelstiltskin.” 

He sighed, and it was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

“Do you want this?” he murmured, caressing her cheek. “Or would it be too much? I admit, I do feel a little superfluous in this company.”

Closing her eyes, Belle shook her head against his hand. “Oh, Rumple,” she whispered. “You’re everything.”

She heard the hitch in his breath, the sudden panting as he gripped the back of her head. Instinctively, Belle opened her mouth and waited for him to fill her. But he waited until her eyes were open before he moved.

Slowly, deliberately, Rumpelstiltskin undid the knot in the belt at the waist of his dark gold dressing gown. His breathing was labored and heavy as he allowed the silk band to hang loose from the belt loops and trail down to the floor. With the robe unfastened but still closed, Rumple inched closer to Belle.

She understood, and the understanding filled her heart. Rumpelstiltskin--who hoarded his secrets, who hid his true nature from the world--was willing to undress, but only for her. Only if she insisted. Belle would have to open his dressing gown. She would have to pull the fabric off his body. If he was going to have his vulnerabilities exposed, it would only be because she wanted it.

Belle looked up at him. He rocked on his heels, rubbing his fingers together as he did when he was nervous. His breathing had become shaky. He tried to look at her, but his gaze kept shifting away. 

It reminded her of how he had been on the night he had bound her to the wall in his safest room. The first time he had allowed her near his naked body, he had been apoplectic with nerves. Even when she had been blind and immobile, Belle’s knowledge of him had been a threat, a fear he’d had to face. 

She never wanted him to be afraid of her. She would not be a threat to him now. He would feel safe in this new situation. Every bit as safe as she did. 

Jefferson and Leona were still pushing and thrusting into her. The continuous motion made Belle’s hands shake as she reached out to Rumple. She grabbed at the flaps of his dressing gown but made sure to keep it closed as she tugged to pull him closer. She opened the robe just enough to put her head inside. He stepped forward and closed the fabric over her shoulders.

All she knew was Rumple’s body. Surrounded by his darkness, his heat, his smell, she opened her mouth and welcomed his taste. 

Through the fabric, he pressed his hands to the back of her head. Slowly, he pushed himself in deeper. Belle clenched tightly around Jefferson’s cock, dimly aware of the man swearing underneath her. Leona and her dildo were still behind her, her hands gripping Belle’s hips. She moved with their rhythm, but nothing was as important as Rumple in her mouth. 

He opened the robe just enough to get one hand in and wind it through Belle’s hair. He controlled her that way, guiding her to keep up with his pace. Belle savored the earthy taste of him, the salt and spice and darkness of his body. He was glorious. She felt herself clenching over and over, throbbing and rocking her hips over Jefferson’s cock.

“Oh fuck, Belle!” 

Jefferson’s shout was loud enough to reach her. The knowledge of what she was doing to him--that her pleasure was fueling his, that he was about to come from how well she was fucking him--only made it easier to do what she was already doing. 

Belle pushed herself sharply against Jefferson, searching for the friction that would push her over the edge. She braced herself with both hands on the ground. It was Leona who had the sense to reach around Belle’s body and rub furiously at her pleasure spot.

With all three of them still inside her, Belle convulsed madly to her orgasm. Rumple gripped her tightly, keeping himself in her mouth as she came. Likewise, Leona only pressed more deeply into her ass. 

Only Jefferson broke. He came as Belle did, spurting inside her as she clenched around him, softening even as her cunt milked him dry. She kept coming around him, even after he was spent.

“Oh, fuck!” he moaned. She could hear him panting underneath her. As soon as he could, he pulled his flaccid cock out of her body. Then he sank back into the ground, exhausted. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, another rhythm Belle could move to. 

She felt a twinge of regret that they couldn’t take a break after Jefferson’s orgasm. It would be polite for her to kiss him and to thank him, to tell him how wonderful he had been. But the other two weren’t stopping, and Belle wasn’t going to ask them to. 

After that orgasm, Belle let them control her. Her body was loose and relaxed. She was a wave that flowed back and forth, with Rumple on one end, and Leona on the other.

Slowly, she became more aware of Leona behind her. It was a different sensation, to be buffeted between two points instead of three. Her cunt still throbbed with every heartbeat. Oddly, she felt the throbbing more, now that she was empty. Leona thrust and pushed into her, the glass dildo unyieldingly hard. 

Gradually, Belle felt her body begin to push back against the dildo. It may have been that Rumple directed her, that he thrust against her head and sent her reeling back. Or it may have been her own desire, her own whorish lusts. This was the sort of thing she fantasized about, after all. As many cocks as there could be in the world, she would use them all for her pleasure, and then let Rumple claim her in front of them all. 

Fuck. The thought of that had her jerking again, bucking erratically back toward Leona. She shook, and felt the other woman’s hands on her, supporting her. Jefferson’s hands, too, held her up and steadied her. Belle felt Leona’s kiss on her back.

“That’s right, luv. You just fall apart for us. We’ll catch you.”

Fuck! She wanted to moan and scream, but Rumple had her wonderfully gagged. So she pushed back against Leona, over and over, again and again, until the pleasure rose up out of her. She wouldn’t let herself break away from Rumple. He had his hands on her too, pressing her ever closer to his body. All she could do was cling to him, suck him in more deeply, let his cock muffle her noises as she came.

Her work done, Leona slid the dildo out of Belle’s ass. For once, Belle was too debauched and distracted to feel disgusted by the sensation. Her lower half was a mess of spent pleasures and she had never felt more sated. All she needed now was Rumple’s satisfaction.

Earlier, when she had been consumed with the others, it had been too difficult to devote any effort to Rumple’s pleasure. Her mouth was his and he filled her to her throat and that had been enough at the time. 

But now it was not enough. Now Belle licked and sucked at his cock, dedicating herself to his enjoyment. Everyone else had come over and over, but Rumple had saved himself for this. For her. She would reward his devotion.

 His hands stroked her hair, twisting it between his fingers, balling it around his fist when she pleased him. In the darkness of his robe, Belle swallowed Rumple’s cock as deeply as she could. With other people’s pleasures drying on her legs, Belle lined a trail of kisses up and down the length of his cock. With Jefferson lying underneath her and Leona sprawled out beside her, Belle nuzzled her nose into the soft flesh of Rumple’s balls.

His breath hitched as his pleasure mounted. Belle sucked hard on his cock and ran her hands up and down his thighs, scraping her nails against his skin. He hissed and pulled at her hair but didn’t order her to stop. Lightly, Belle scraped her teeth against his shaft. He tensed and shuddered and she felt him begin to come.

She sucked again at the tip of his cock, but then let it go. She pushed herself backwards, leaving the privacy of his robe, so everyone could see as Rumple spurted black seed over her mouth and neck and breasts. 

He painted her body, and she shuddered from the heat of his pleasure. He claimed her, marked her as his own in front of people, just as she had fantasized a hundred times. She knelt on the ground at his feet, utterly subservient, utterly his. No one else had this, not even Jefferson, not tonight. She was his, and in that moment, he was hers as well. Jefferson and Leona were witnesses to it.

Had Belle ever been happier in her life?

****

The three of them fell into a heap of exhausted satisfaction on the pillowed ground. Belle lay in between Jefferson and Leona, though both of them still reached out to each other. They held hands over Belle’s body and she basked in the warmth of their embrace. 

Rumpelstiltskin kept himself apart again. It seemed his time as a member of this dance ended as soon as all the steps had been taken. Fully dressed again, he stood above them on the floor surrounding the pleasure-nest and draped a large blanket over their naked bodies.

“Won’t you stay?” Belle murmured. Jefferson was already snoring and Leona was snuggled up next to her, breathing deeply.

He shook his head. “Sleep is for those who need it. I’ll bring you all breakfast in the morning.” 

“I’ll miss you, Rumple.”

Belle’s eyes were closed, but she could imagine his wan smile. “You have company enough, my sweet. But there is one thing I would ask of you, before you sleep.”

She lifted her head up off the pillow. “Yes?”

“See if you can give your cunt one last flourish. It is your duty after all.”

Belle flopped back down onto the soft feather pillow. She pried her arm out from between her leg and Leona’s and set her hand gingerly between her soaking curls. It might be a struggle to come again, her cunt was already tender and aching. But Rumple had given her an order, and that wasn’t something she could take for granted anymore.

“Yes, Rumpelstiltskin,” she whispered to the darkness.    

[alphawave-writes]

The sum of all things

Now I can’t go into details about why Sigma is my newest favourite character, so I’ll just let my story say it. As of now, this is unofficially the world’s first Sigma fanfiction. You can read the story below or find it on AO3.

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Math was, in many ways, like composing music. There were rules to abide by. You could put together a string of numbers and operations together to create a formula, just as one would string together notes and instruments to create a song. He did not know if it was because of his love of math that he saw formulas in music or if the reverse was true, his love of music that unveiled to him alone the melody that flowed through mathematics. It did not matter. Math was a song to be crafted. He was the composer, conductor, and performer.

 Numbers and melodies made up his whole life. For decades he had been chasing after one particular tune; a song that will unveil to him the answer to one of science’s greatest mysteries. This song will be named the ‘black hole’ and it will sing to him the secrets of gravity. It would be wonderful and beautiful. A melody that all beings, living and dead, heard.

 He hummed out his formulas, singing quietly to the dust particles in the air the story of his life, but the song never sounded complete. It would have to be perfect, he told himself again and again. There was no room for discordant notes. He hummed again, changing a note or two, tampering with the tempo, key signature, time signature. 

 He stared at the whiteboard, marker pen sitting in his right hand. After years of research, he had found the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle and now he must assemble them together. The formula for gravity was hidden within the numbers and operations. Day after day he observed his notes, trying to piece it together. His every waking breath was filled with numbers. His dreams was made of numbers. He thought he might never piece it together until one fateful day he found the song. Everything finally started to click together.

 He rearranged the numbers, writing faster than his mouth could ever speak. When he was satisfied he turned the whiteboard to the other side and wrote down his final masterpiece. Standing in stark black against the white background was an Upper Case Sigma. The scientists of long ago had been partially correct, black holes were comprised of magnetic fields, but it was so much more than that. Gravity was the sum of so many more things. Gravity was the sum of all things. 

 His song was finally complete, boiled down to its purest essence. His greatest composition ever, never to be topped by anyone. Thousands will sing his song for eternity. Millions will know his tune. Tears filled his eyes as he dropped the pen in his hand. The formulas that sung into his ears were so beautiful, transcending the numbers and equations up to a higher plane of existence, a better one, reserved for the ears of the gods alone.

 He blinked away the happy tears, his body shaking in relief and joy. This was his greatest achievement yet. This was happiness, he told himself over and over again. This was peace.

 This is chaos. Destruction. Darkness. The last visages of life, smoldering like embers fading into the cold. Gravity is his to control, to twist, to manipulate. Dead bodies surround him, breadcrumbs of corpses that led to his feet. War is math, and ergo like music; there is a formula. You divide and conquer on the battlefield, regardless of how much blood you have to spill. There is no time for sympathy or guilt. The dead, in the end, were only numbers to be crunched by the statisticians to feed the gullet of greedy war generals.

There’s a child in front of him, tears gushing down their face like miniature waterfalls. Surrounding them were the ruins of their home, the bodies of their family floating lifelessly in the air, limbs dangling down. The hand of their father was just low enough to brush against the top of their hair. He’s caused this, he realizes, but the thought doesn’t stick for long. He’s only a vessel, sent out to do what he must. He stuck his hand out and the child levitated off the ground, clawing at their throat.

They scream desperately, but it’s useless. No one can ever defy gravity. They hold onto their toy, hoping it will save them from their suffering, but it never does. The head of the cat doll pops. A bloodcurdling shriek is suddenly cut short.

The theorem behind Schrödinger’s cat was perfectly simple and yet fascinating regardless. A thought experiment in which a creature could exist in multiple states of being: dead and alive, trapped in its steel prison against its will, an analogy of quantum superposition. It was such an advanced question of its time, unanswered for years.

 That was, it was unanswered until now.

 There were many interpretations to Schrödinger’s paradox. The one that he found most fascinating was the many-worlds interpretation, which suggested that there were multiple realities of different possibilities. There were realities where the cat was alive and there are realities where the cat was dead. To the observer peering in from outside the realms of reality, the two forms would superimpose on each other such that it would appear as if the cat was both alive and dead. The cat was quantumly entangled with its other copies in the alternate realities, making it impossible to tell the dead cat from the alive cat. Quantum coherence will fall apart at the seams so these two distinct realities could exist, independent and dependent. The cat was alive and dead, but it did not matter. It was still trapped in its cage, waiting for the box to be opened and its fate to be known.

 Still, it was only a theory, no matter how intriguing it was. The only surefire way to tell if the many worlds interpretation was true was if it was somehow possible to see from the view of the cat. With his formulas, that was now possible. He will become the cat and trap himself in the iron cage and see the branching realities beyond. All he needed was to generate a miniature black hole. It was a frighteningly easy experiment. After all, Gravity was on his side now. The formulas were precision perfect. He was in control.

 He is not in control. He never is. His baser instincts propel him forward as he smashed people’s heads together, gravity pulling them up by their necks until their faces are the colour of Asian orchids. His breathing is ragged and his teeth crunch together in a vicious snarl as the bloodlust consumes him. He only knows violence. He only knows death.

There are two people next to him. Allies, his brain supplies, although he does not know how he knows this to be true. One is wearing a skull mask and is cloaked in black while the other is the shade of blueberries, multiple red lens covering the upper part of their face, making them look like a spider. He cannot keep count of how many people he has placed in the cat’s box, trapped eternally in a state of death and life.

Soldiers in tactical gear stand vigilant in front of scared doctors. He sees one of their badges, notices the name and badge, but words no longer make sense. All he feels is the vampiric craving for blood, forever insatiable, forever hungry.

“Stand down!” One of the soldiers screams, but it’s muted and soft compared to the other voice in his head. That voice is low and menacing and powerful. That voice is the one that hungers for bloodshed.

“Kill them,” it whispered into his ear.

He obliges. The sound of gunfire and the squelch of bodies fade away as he hears a familiar melody. It sings to him alone, and he dances to the beat. No one can escape the Danse Macabre. No one can escape the haunting melody.

What was that haunting melody? Everything was going wrong around him. The magnetic field was acting up, the black hole was accumulating far too much mass in too short a time frame, and yet all he could concentrate on was that infernal melody, a siren calling him to the murky depths. At first, he thought it might have been the machinery malfunctioning, or that he was somehow imagining it. Then he gazed into the blackhole growing massively in his hands and realized that it was the source of the tune.

 The melody repeated itself again and again as he was drawn into the black hole. Every particle of his being was being ripped apart and distorted but he did not move. He recognized this tune. It’s the song that his formulas sung, similar yet different. This song was discordant and ugly, improvised nu-jazz that spat in the face of his elegantly classical formula.

 He didn’t realise he was humming the tune he made until he was, the hidden formula he spent all his life creating escaping his throat. Then another voice joined in. It was his voice too, but it sounded distant, disjointed from his body. This second voice sung a different melody. Then a third one chipped in with another melody, and then a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, until millions and millions of voices joined together, all singing their own songs, harmonizing with the discordant tune that emitted from the black hole.

 It was so hard to tell his voice apart from the others that swirled around the metal cage. The symphony of voices rose as the black hole’s tune got louder. It was only then that he realized his mistake. The formulas he sung were far from perfect, a mere glint compared to the true genius he was witnessing here. All these voices were singing together, their discordant tunes combined together to make one beautiful, perfect whole. And here he stood at the conductor’s podium, waving his fingers to pull them together. He did not stop. Even if he knew what he would unleash, he didn’t think he could stop himself.

 He waved his hand and the orchestra was his to command. A flick of the wrist and a copy of himself appeared, mimicking his movements. Another flick, and there’s a third. The singing was so loud his ears would be bleeding but he did not stop. They crescendo up, voices rising to the highest peak.

 His reward for his efforts was the limitless realities that gravity provided him with. These realities were superimposed on one another, such that it was impossible to tell the layers apart. But if the image he saw was any indicator of the future, then he had brought hell to this peaceful earth. He sung the demonic song, and he summoned in Cthulhu. He stared into the eye of madness, and it blinked back at him.

 His body uncoiled beneath him. The singing had stopped, all except for one song. One formula. The voice singing it was not his own. It was a darker voice. The voice of the cat trapped in a metal cage.

Release me, it sang.  Release me.

 The two mysterious strangers release him from his bonds but he cannot move until they slide the heavy metallic suit on him. He stares at his hands, but they don’t feel like his own. He’s a stranger in his own body. He is barely in control.

The weight of a thousand worlds weighs on his shoulders. For one brief second, he is aware of the limitless realities he has glimpsed and the countless memories he recalled. Together, together, the dark voice sang to him.

“What are you going to do to him?” The black cloaked person asked.

A third figure appears from the shadows. Their skin is dark with white tribal paint on their face, and their frame is large and muscular. They look familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Danger. They are chaos incarnate. “He will work for us. We do what we have to do.”

The dark voice is rattling in his brain, thrashing within the confines of its prison. Release me, release me, release me! His brain throbs horrendously. His grip on the leash is slipping.

“What is he?” The cloaked person gestures at him, unaware that he can hear and see everything. No one acknowledges his presence.

The dark skinned figure smiles with his lips and growls with his eyes. “A person of use to us. A man that will kill without remorse or regret. The perfect killing machine.”

He hears that simple melody again. It’s the song from the black hole. His eyes widen as it plays its haunting melody and suddenly he remembers everything now. The experiment. The formula. Everything going wrong. Atoms splitting into two. The other versions of himself. Reality bending with the light. Death and destruction by his own, bloodstained hands.

He lets go of the leash and he’s lost in his mind. He can feel a million people take hold of his body, speaking the words he will never speak from his lips. Memories slip away as he succumbs to the sweet melody again, harmonizing with the others, becoming whole.

We are the sum of our parts, the dark voice says. It is now the leader. It is now in control. We are the sum of so many things. We are the sum of all things.

He cannot protest. His objection is lost in a sea of voices. 

[niennavalier]

New story! Bit of an older one, but it’s one I like a lot, personally. Here’s the link to Wattpad, but I’ve also got it down below the cut, cause it’s shorter than my last one. Comments are amazing!

Summary: A bridge in the rain seemed so cliche, didn't it? Almost like the cover of half the romance novels on the market. Except that this wasn't the romance novel people would usually expect. Just two college friends meeting up a couple years down the line and reminiscing on old times. Two friends who end up realizing something more about their relationship, and so much more about each other, in ways neither was exactly expecting.

    “Hey stranger.”

    The man on the bridge turned, the usual, easy smile on his features. “Hey stranger to you, too. Been awhile, hasn’t it?”

    “Too long,” she laughed back, leaning up against the wooden railing in the cool evening air. “Been years since college.” A low, amused whistle. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

    “Well,” he glanced over, blue eyes mischievous, just that side of devious, “not long enough to forget the image of you drunk after some frat party. Burned into my brain a little more than I’d really like.” The smirk that followed those words definitely fell in the realm of “devious”.

    “Oh, nope. Nope. Let’s just never talk about that again, yeah? ‘Cause A: it was totally my roommate’s fault, thinking I needed the ‘full college experience’ or something like that. And B: being slobbering drunk and embarrassing the hell out of myself totally sucks.”

    “You actually remember any of that?”

    She turned back with an eyebrow raise, lip pulling up into a grin. “No. Hence why it sucked.”

    “And whether it sucked or not, you’re still the only person I’ll ever know who actually complains about a college party. Buzzkill.”

    “Hey!” She rammed a playful shoulder into him, jostling the both of them through their shared laughter. “Like you even went to parties ever.”

    “And you say that like you’ve been to more than one.”

    “Okay, in my defense, when Netflix calls my name, I heed the call. Plus, you were there, too, like, more than half the time feeding me your awful movie ideas.” She made a face, features twisted, probably more than a little melodramatic.

    “Oh come on,” he shrugged off, acting far too knowing, glancing off in the distance again, “you loved all those movies. Point me in the direction of anyone who doesn’t enjoy some cheesy sci-fi now and then.”

    “Alright...fine. You win. This time.” She shoved his shoulder again, more gently this time. More of a nudge than a shove, really, then turned to look out over the placid water of the lake, everything going quiet enough to make out the gentle sound of light rain droplets disrupting the surface. It was just...comfortable. Like no time had passed at all. Like they’d said goodbye and just picked up right where they had left off. Friends. Best friends who somehow seemed to know each other like the back of their hands. Compatible in a way that apparently transcended time.

    She smirked, just to herself. Well, that was a little overly poetic. More than a little.

    But still, it was hard not to think back on other things. Not the drunken incident she’d rather not relive, but other conversations with her roommate. That girl had had no shortage of comments - and pointed looks - when it came to the close relationship with her best friend. Namely about the fact that it wasn’t a relationship. Which, apparently, had pissed her off to no end. Like it was some personal offense to her that their friendship wasn’t something romantic or sexual or whatnot.

    Alright, well, “personal offense” was probably an overstatement (or, at least she hoped it was), but the reality was...something different than what her roommate could’ve really known. Ignorance that was made really obvious by the constant insistence that no, she didn’t feel like getting laid tonight.

    But the passage of time would make anyone wonder about things, opportunities missed because of a few truths - those spoken, and those not.

    God, the whole thing about everyone being a poet was apparently more true than she’d wanted to ever believe of cliched adages.

    At some point, the rain had drawn closer, falling warm on their heads now, though neither of them moved a muscle, just watching over the turbulent waters, sparkling with the raindrops like stars under the silvery moonlight. Like personal constellations, a personal galaxy.

    “Does your mom still happen to watch all those dumb rom-coms you hated?”

    The sudden question completely startled her out of her reverie, unable to control the ridiculous laugh that left her. “The ones I made all those snide comments about? Far as I know, the answer’s a very unfortunate ‘yes’.”

    “Been waiting to hear a bunch of those. Since it, you know, feels like we’re in one right now. Two people, on a bridge, in the rain. Only you would have some very choice words for that.”

    “‘Only me’?” She could feel his bright smile even more than she could actually see it. “Wow, never met anyone else with my amazing sense of humor?”

    Now it was his turn to raise a hand, shove her shoulder. “I was gonna go with ‘unique’ more than ‘amazing’, I’ll have you know.”

    “Just shut up! Okay, you know what? Terminating this friendship. Right here and now - this is it!” She swiped her hand through the puddles on the flat top of the railing, flinging water droplets his direction and ducking under her sleeve as he counterattacked.

    Eventually, they settled, strangely comfortable in soaked clothing, except for the nagging questions, the odd twisting feeling in her gut, left there just because of a few words of his. Almost like there was some opportunity in this moment, a stupidly huge “maybe” between them, some wall she didn’t know if she wanted to breach in case of what that breach might ultimately do. Although...she was not gonna be some idiot just because movies were movies and liked to put ridiculous fears in everyone’s heads. Realistically, there should be nowhere to go but up from here.

    Plus, the peaceful mood just worked for her next question, spoken past the water dripping down her face. “There anything you regret?”

    “Woah, serious talk from you?” His words were light, elicited a mock disapproving headshake from her, even if they didn’t match his tone, as if he knew just what line they were walking. Truth be told, he probably did. “I’m pretty sure you won’t find anyone in the world who can honestly answer that with anything but a yes.”

    “Oh, come on. Real talk, real answers. Just once and I’ll go back to being ridiculous and the world can be right again, deal?”

    He held his hands up in pseudo surrender. “Deal. And the answer’s still yes. Although I don’t get what has you wondering.”

    “Talking to some people, older and wiser and the whole deal. The old spiel about regretting the things you didn’t do. Textbook stuff,” she brushed off with a dismissive air. “Just got reminded of that all of a sudden. Must be something about your stupid face.”

    “All ‘cause of that? Because of my stupid face?”

    “Only thing I can think of.” She grinned back fully before giving pause. “Y’know, Davita always thought we should get together. Literally would not shut up about it. Came this close to shoving a sock in her mouth a couple times.”

    “Oh?”

    “You know full well that’s not a joke. But, thing is, been thinking and...maybe she wasn’t being completely insane.” There it was. Out in the open and vague as all hell, but there nonetheless.

    She was lucky he was about a thousand times more sensitive to those subtleties than her - the sudden pained concern flashing through vivid blue was proof enough of that. “But you of all people know I can’t give you that. It’s just...it wouldn’t ever happen. I don’t wanna force you not to have that.”

    “Yeah, but,” she reached over, grasped his hand, fingers twining and slipping together, their arms shifting against each other with a gentle friction from where they both leaned forward onto the railing, “never said I wanted that either.”

    “But,” his brow furrowed, voice newly cautious, “back then, those other people -”

    “Hung out with other guys, yeah. Never wanted to sleep with them. Or anyone, really. Took a little longer to figure that one out. But all-nighters, just the two of us and Netflix was always a couple thousand times better. Much rather that.”

    “...For real?”

    “Yup. Although the weather seems to think this was supposed to be more romantic by about tenfold. Even the rain is being all sparkly because of course it is.”

    “Wow. Literally nothing’s changed, has it?” He shook his head, even though that did nothing to hid the way his lip curled upward.

    “Yeah, well whoever said it really has to was lying through their teeth. Now come on.” She pushed from the railing, dragging him along with her. “‘Less you’re doing something else tonight, why not head back to somewhere with dry clothes? Got a long overdue order of popcorn and cheap sci-fi for the night.”

[musicmixtapes]

April 24, 2018 Mix

Hello friends,

Another installment of music! This week was really easy because I just put together exactly what I was feeling including love, memories, scary emotions, and independence. Enjoy and let me know if you have any comments or suggestions! Spotify Playlist 1. Quiet, The Winter Harbor by Mazzy Star - Brand new single by Mazzy which I'm so excited about because she is one of my favorite 90s female singers and is still going strong. Although it's spring, this song is still very much appropriate for any people who are having a hard time leaving things in the past and feel like a sinking ship. 2. Between The Breaths by Mitski and Xiu Xiu - I am always a big fan of the combination of singing and acting spoken word in new indie songs which this piece does perfectly. Definitely gives off a bit of an eerie electronic vibe which has a sunny disposition. 3. You Were Afraid by Night Beds - Looking back on past love and seeing what went wrong, the age old topic for sad romance songs. This one is cool though because it doesn't make you feel sad while listening to it so that's fun. 4. Lotus Eater by Foster The People - I immediately loved this song because FTP always has the coolest guitar/drum combos in their pieces. Also I love the greek mythology reference to the "lotus eaters" I am a big fan. 5. Be Your Own 3am by Adult Mom - This song is so important. It is literally an anthem for self love, self care, and taking your mom's advice to "be your own 3am" which is so accurate. Stop trying to find love and acceptance externally through physical pleasures and just try to find some happiness within! 6. Stuck On The Puzzle by Alex Turner - This is the same writer and singer who is the front man of Arctic Monkeys who took his own solo EP and wrote from a very different perspective and genre, more romantic and slow paced. I love the careless, anti romantic beginning which turns into someone who can't figure out why he loves someone so much. 7. I Admit I'm Scared by Ó - Being scared something good is going to go wrong and that someone won't be a part of your life anymore? I'm sure we can all relate. The feelings of anxiety in love is explored in this song which struck so personally to me and it's so sweetly put with simple music to it. 8. The Circle Game by Joni Mitchell - Probably the only song that can make me cry at any place and time. The angelic voice of Joni as she travels through the birth, life and inevitable death of a young person, with the swell of people singing the chorus literally gives me the chills. My dad used to play this in the car all the time when I was little. 9. Still Clean by Soccer Mommy - A song about betrayal and being used for physical senses... there are a lot of animal related metaphors to explain the writer's feelings and I think she does it wonderfully. Letting someone use you because you love them leaves you feeling empty, according to this hell of a song. 10. Honey Leak by Little Bird - An R&B, soulful, electric song that keeps you listening carefully for the gently sung words underneath the awesome cacophony of instrumental throughout. 11. This Strange Effect by The Shacks - Stumbled upon this band completely by chance and so glad I did because they are definitely an up and coming alt/indie rock generational icon. This is one of their more known songs and it's actually a cover of the song by The Kinks (who I love). 12. Not My Baby by Alvvays - The intro to this song is the sound of a motorcycle driving away which signifies the ending of a relationship (love the sound metaphor). We listen to the carefree sound of the song and think about the singer talk about her becoming uninterested in the relationship and mentally checking out. 13. The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song by The Flaming Lips - Questioning everything. Saying that if people had the choice and no consequences, would they automatically do the wrong thing just to get their way? The Flaming Lips say, "yeah yeah yeah" they would because that's what happens when someone has too much power. 14. Francine by Esmé Patterson - Loving someone who belongs to someone else. I love when a song has a person's name as the title because it's so personal, yet so much of the time the story the singer is telling can be relatable to other people in our own lives. 15. Help Myself by Knox Fortune - This song reminds me of me and my mom, which is the mark of a really good song if it maybe is meant to relate to one specific kind of relationship but transcends that boundary and moves to any relationship. I love this line: She brushed her teeth, I stayed in bed/She brushed her hair, I scratched my head/I bite my nails, she gets hers done/We're not the same, not hard to tell. 16. Let My Love Open The Door by Rogue Wave - A cover of an older 80s jam that is really well known, just taken down a few notches, un electrified and sung with a different sort of passion, still passionate though. It's really popular these days to cover older songs in a unique way that almost forges a whole new song which I'm loving. 17. Psychotic Girl by The Black Keys - Recommended to me by a cool friend, I totally discovered a new side of the Black Keys and some of their older music has such a Rolling Stones vibe which I totally can chill with. 18. Kiss Off by The Violent Femmes - This song is the epitome of forming modern rock bands and giving so much musical influence. Not even to mention the iconic counting in this song which gave so many other artists this idea, but the hardcore bass and guitar which makes you wanna dance is just amazing. 19. Miss You by The Rolling Stones - The iconic beginning to the song which everyone knows is obviously awesome, but the whole thing is great too. Jagger sings about longing (maybe lusting too) about a girl he really wants back with him. Total spring feels because of the romantic element here. 20. People Can't Stop Chillin' by Sports - An instrumental ballad which is super pretty and includes some harmonious voices and a couple horns at the end which closes out so lovely.

[gleekto]

Fic: Close Quarters

Summary: Blaine is visiting his friend,Tina, at Brown for the weekend, a reprieve from his new New York City home and the competitiveness of NYADA. He expected a fun reunion. He didn’t expect he’d be playing her boyfriend. Or that her roommate, Kurt, would uncover their ruse in the middle of the night. After tripping over him. Literally. Kurt of the long legs and designer jeans and sparkling eyes. Kurt of the sophomore year. Kurt who has a boyfriend. Kurt who is auditioning for NYADA?

But Blaine is a freshman. And hasn’t had a boyfriend. And you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

Based on this prompt.

Words: 4771

Note: I may or may not have left it open for a sequel...But I may need to be convinced...

Close Quarters

“How did you guys meet?” Tina’s new college friends asked the night Blaine arrived. That question was easy. High school.

“How are you guys managing the long distance?” Oh well, you know, we skype pretty often.

“Do you like New York?”  Love it. Lima just wasn’t big enough for me. Not enough people. I love the diversity. I love the theatre. I even love the noise. 

“So I guess Tina’s planning to move to New York then? I mean, long term?” Blaine purses his lips and turns to Tina.

“Oh for sure,” Tina smiles and grits her teeth. “We’ve got to figure it out, though. Right, Blaine?”

This is ridiculous.

On AO3

“I promise, I’ll tell them in the morning,” Tina sighs as she flops down on to her tiny dorm room bed. 

“You promise?” Blaine sits cross legged on his sleeping bag on the Ikea rug covering the grey linoleum floor. Why did she choose burnt orange anyways? “Because it’s getting a little awk-”

“Yes, it’s awkward. I know. I don’t know why I told them you were my boyfriend. It would just be cool, you know-”

“Tina,” Blaine looks up at the ceiling and repeats himself he hopes for the last time. “I can’t be that guy.” Blaine loves Tina. He always has. She’s smart and fun and they always kicked ass whenever they did French projects together last year. And they throw the best movie marathons for their friends - movie appropriate costume required. But she knows he’s gay. He told her that in a tearful conversation more than a year ago. He’s known since he was 14 and could only get through a required game of spin-the-bottle by imagining Rachel Berry was actually her boyfriend, Jesse St. James. Close your eyes and dream. Just because he hasn’t had a boyfriend yet, doesn’t mean he’s any less sure. It’s just that Lima, Ohio isn’t exactly New York City. The place where he actually lives now. And he’s ready to meet someone. Really.

“You’re sure, right? Because I feel like I can usually tell - Like with my roommate, Kurt. I could tell right away- He wears McQueen. And neck kerchiefs and - ”

“Tina,” Blaine rolls his eyes. “You know that those are stereotypes. Anyways, the fact that the school let him room with a girl is a flashing neon sign.”

“I guess.”

“Besides, I think I do a good job of pinging lots of people’s gaydar.” Blaine smiles conspiratorily and tugs on his pink and green bowtie. Blaine is proud of who he is and he’s a New York City boy now. Ready to meet someone if he hasn’t mentioned. “Though McQueen, that’s impressive,” Blaine imagines a perfectly dressed model-type sprawled on the bed across from Tina’s. The guy’s thick dark blue duvet with three throw pillows slightly rumpled. He clearly didn’t let the dorm room factor stop him. Whatever. He’s probably at his boyfriend’s place. “You’re lucky he’s not here this weekend,” Blaine muses out loud.

“Why?” 

“He would know.” Obviously.

“No way.”

“I’d put on my best clubbing outfit - my black sleeveless tank top with my red jeans? Do you think he’d notice?” 

Tina crosses her arms but she’s smiling underneath her scowl. “How could he not?”

Blaine nods. It’s easy to be confident in your imagination.

...

“Ow! What the-” Blaine startles out of his sleep and squints up at a tall well-dressed figure with reddish brown hair staring down at him. He sees shiny black combat boots that complete the outfit  - boots which presumably just kicked him in the side. Accidentally, he supposes.

“Oh my god, Tina! Is this your boyfriend?” A clearly irritated tall, pale, and handsome man has his arms crossed and looms above Blaine. “Why is he lying on the path to my bed instead of in yours? Is this like a fight or something?” Kurt. Who is also apparently home now, and not away for the weekend. Blaine looks at his phone - It’s 2am. He rubs his side where Kurt kicked him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Tina sits up and just shakes her head over and over.

“There was no sock on the door, it’s 2am, and it was quiet. So I assumed you were sleeping and it was safe for me to grab a fresh t-shirt. Though this wasn’t exactly the danger I was imagining,” Kurt shakes his head, exasperated. “So I guess I’m sorry?” 

“No, no, it’s okay. You couldn’t have known that-” Blaine pauses. This wasn’t exactly how Blaine imagined meeting Kurt, black tank top and red pants replaced by blue satin button down pajamas and a mop of sleepy head hair, but he doesn’t appear to have a choice. And he isn’t going to let Kurt take the blame for Tina’s ridiculous ruse.

“That what?” Kurt rolls his eyes at the ceiling, “You and Tina are either in a fight or are bizarrely prudish for long distance lovebirds in college. I didn’t take Tina for the ‘True Love Waits’ type.”

“Ughhhh,” Tina grumbles. 

“It’s okay, Tina,” Blaine stands and sits down on her bed, placing an arm around her. “You said you were going to tell them anyways.”

“Tell us?...” Kurt looks at Blaine looking apologetically at Tina. And he looks at Blaine’s navy blue satin button pajamas. And the laugh Blaine’s trying hard to bite back. “You’re not her boyfriend, are you?”

“No,” They say in unison.

“Told you he would know,” Blaine elbows Tina. 

“Know what?”

“That I’m gay.” 

“Designer pajamas a dead giveaway,” Kurt smiles at him. “That and the fact that you were sleeping on the floor.” Blaine smiles back. Tina doesn’t smile.

“Yes okay. I made it up so no one would get any ideas about setting me up with every Asian guy they’ve ever met,” Tina huffs.

“Oh hunny, I know,” Kurt nods. “Last year, it was every wannabe actor and hairdresser in town. That’s why I need to move to New York.”

Blaine’s eyebrows rise, “You’re moving to New York?” 

“Only if NYADA wants me as a mid-year sophomore,” Kurt sighs. Blaine is working hard to quiet his racing mind. And his wandering eyes. Did Tina know?

“I go to NYADA.”

“Blaine goes to NYADA,” He and Tina say at the same time. 

“You do?”

“And why didn’t you tell me that you’re leaving? What about Tom?” Tina clearly did not know. And a boyfriend? Figures.

“I’m not leaving yet. First they have to even let me audition and I can’t jinx it. Yes, well. Tom is Tom. My boyfriend - “ He looks at Blaine. “We’ll see.” Kurt purses his lips.

“Ouch.”

“Yes, well, it appears after three months of dating that not all gay wannabe actors have that much in common. He chooses clubbing over cooking and a movie every time.”  Blaine is pretty sure Kurt’s only looking at him now. 

“So you came back here tonight because you broke up?” Tina asks. 

“No. I’m going back to his place,” Kurt says flatly.” Just needed a fresh t-shirt. Love when he spills beer on me at Cruisers.” Kurt non-chalantly sheds his apparently beer stained tight black t-shirt and Blaine lets himself look at Kurt’s body, at least momentarily, before Kurt turns around to pull on an equally tight white one. Blaine does his best to keep his face neutral. Kurt is hot. He’d really like to meet someone. Preferably someone single. But at least his not-so-secret is out of Tina’s closet.

...

Blaine non-chalantly pulls the spare mattress into his teeny tiny dorm room. He folds his laundry and puts it away - he’s not a slob. Nothing to do with his guest arriving in a few hours. He moves the little rainbow flag from the corner of his desk into its rightful place of prominence at the centre. Well maybe a bit to do with it. He just wants to be clear that he’s out of the closet. Obviously. So Kurt can feel comfortable. 

When Kurt and Tina called him to ask if Kurt could stay with him for Kurt’s NYADA audition, he kept his cool. He didn’t jump up or fist pump the air or sound too eager to see Kurt again. He obviously didn’t think about what Kurt looked like with his shirt off. Heading back to his boyfriend’s. He just warned Kurt that the room was small but that he would get the spare mattress. And of course he could stay - New York City is expensive. 

His phone buzzes. “Kurt?” He has no idea how this is going to go.

...

“If it were up to me, I’d let you in with either of those,” Blaine says as they close the door to his room, teeth brushed, button down pajamas buttoned. “But rumour is that Tibideaux goes for naked emotion.” Kurt had performed both Not the Boy Next Door and Being Alive for him in the practice room. He’s a unique talent - countertenor voice, skilled acrobatics. And he’s pretty easy on the eyes too - though he doesn’t think Carmen Tibideaux is particularly looking for that. He doesn’t tell him that he felt like a school kid with a crush watching him dance through Not the Boy Next Door. Secretly swooning without worrying about making his object feel uncomfortable. He’s pretty sure Jesse St. James would not have appreciated knowing he was picturing him during the fated Spin the Bottle game. But during Being Alive, Kurt is transcendent. Raw and open. And he tells him so. Kurt blushes and curtsies which unfortunately leads to more secret swooning. Anyways, Kurt has an audition tomorrow and can’t get distracted. So Blaine can’t either.

“It’s the harder song but I’ve only got one chance, so I guess I’m going for it.” 

“What did Tina think?”

“I didn’t perform for her,” Kurt shrugs.

“Oh. Or what about your boyfriend? What’s his name again?” Tom. Of course he remembers.

“Tom? We broke up like a month ago. I think a week after you visited.”

“Oh I”m sorry-”

“Oh no. Don’t be. It was about time. Things can only go on so long when your love for Madonna is your strongest connection. But when he tried to get me to go out again instead of finishing my NYADA application, that was the straw.”

Blaine nods. He knows what it’s like to be singly focused on a dream. He skipped many a school dance in favour of acing his next test. Though dances weren’t all that much of a sacrifice with all the making out on the dance floor that he wasn’t doing. “Still I imagine break ups aren’t fun.”

Kurt laughs. “Not really. Especially when he dramatically took my toothbrush and threw it out the window. But like a week later, it was a relief. Mostly I miss the-” Kurt blushes, “You know.”

“Sex?” Blaine blushes too. Mostly because he doesn’t know. Though he can also imagine that.

“Yeah. He was hot.” Kurt laughs again and Blaine feels a tinge of jealousy. He’s not sure of whom. “In high school, I was the Carmel football team’s favorite punchline. And punching bag. It was definitely an awakening for me at Brown when I was a different kind of objectified.” Kurt looks at him.

“I know what you mean,” Blaine says. “Well, sort of. Mostly the football team ignored me. But I was not the object of anyone’s affection,” Blaine says. “Except Tina’s,” He clarifies. “Nothing ever happened though.”

“I figured.”

“Do I look that innocent?”

Kurt throws a pillow at him and lies down on his mattress. “No. You’re just still good friends. And usually that kind of stuff can make things awkward.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“So innocent.” Kurt sing songs and Blaine throws the pillow back and shuts off the light. 

“If you didn’t have a NYADA audition tomorrow, I’d take you clubbing. Put that idea to rest.”

“Too bad I have a NYADA audition.”

“You’re gonna kill it.”

“We’re both gay kids from Whereverville, Ohio, Blaine. I remember what it felt like to be green. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Blaine is quiet. Kurt is smart and talented and hot and single and in his room for the weekend. This baby brother thing has got to go. “I’m a New York boy now, Kurt.”

Kurt doesn’t respond. He’s already asleep.

...

The next night Blaine finds himself in front of the bouncer at Pride and Prejudice, newly minted fake id in hand. He feels slightly less ridiculous because Kurt still needs one too. Though his is substantially more worn. “Not bad. You could be 23,” Kurt peers over his shoulder as they walk in. 

“Years of high school in Lima can age a person.” Blaine says knocking Kurt in the side and he laughs. Kurt is in a great mood - NYADA audition over, vague praise from Madam Tibideaux which Blaine assures him is practically a Wonka golden ticket, and he had insisted that New York City celebrating was in order. And Pride and Prejudice was apparently the place to be on a Saturday night if you’re young and gay and in New York. He just hadn’t wanted to go by himself in his first month.

“Oh my god there are multiple dance floors,” Kurt is wide eyed and happy. “I can spend all night with the 80′s without any go go dancers trying to climb on top of me.” That didn’t actually sound so bad to Blaine but it was Kurt’s night and if he wanted Madonna, it would be the 80′s floor.

Within half an hour, they have a drink in hand and are chatting and bouncing to Cyndi Lauper.  But somehow an hour and two drinks later, Kurt is pressed up against a tall, blonde, and buff, probably football player, who keeps whispering in his ear. Kurt turns around and shrugs apologetically at Blaine, but the football player isn’t leaving and neither is Kurt. 

Blaine is finally in a gay bar with people his age and if Kurt is busy, well, he knows he can move. And flirt. Even if he was used to attracting the wrong sex in high school. Tina says he has unintentional game so tonight it will be intentional and he’s going to play.

Blaine puts down his drink and sheds his bowtie and short sleeved button down for the white ribbed tank top underneath as Michael Jackson’s Bad blares through the speakers. He walks past the people milling on the outside of the dance floor, past Kurt and football guy, into the middle of the crowd. The thing about being a musically talented, sexually frustrated, teenager is that your energy has to get channeled somewhere. And Blaine loves to dance. And a dance floor with other gay boys as a young adult is even better than being the centre of attention at a high school prom.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

A cute muscled tall dark and handsome that looks a bit like the bisexual Warlock from that sci-fi show is dancing in front of him. With him, he supposes. Until he turns around to a blonde babe with a five o’clock shadow. He lets him put his arms around him, helps him move to the beat. The warlock has better rhythm. He switches again. Now it’s Wham!  Everything She Wants. Is everything she sees. 

“Thought I’d lost you.” Blaine turns and Kurt is in front of him, football guy nowhere to be seen. 

“You looked busy,” Blaine smirks.

“So did you,” Kurt nods and Blaine shrugs non-chalantly, secretly thrilled that he seems to have shed the baby brother persona.

“Wham!,” Blaine says in response and steps into Kurt’s space. Kurt puts his palms on Blaine’s chest, fingertips grazing his sweaty skin and lets Blaine lead. Legs intertwined, beat thumping, Blaine’s hands travel down Kurt’s back. He lets them rest at the top of his ass. Almost that bold. Not quite. Kurt drops his head back and laughs, steps closer to Blaine. 

“I like dancing,” Kurt says.

“Me too.”

... 

They stumble into Blaine’s room at 3am, Blaine rushing to get out of sweaty clothes and to brush his beer breath away. But when he’s changed and back from the washroom, Kurt is asleep. Again.

...

“Do you want to go to brunch?” Blaine asks as the 11am sun wakes them both from their drunken slumber. “Coffee or greasy food seems in order.” Kurt can’t do it. He has a lunch meeting with a Professor for a possible internship to help pay the New York City bills. “Afternoon walk in Central Park? Show you the sites?” Blaine tries one more time. But Kurt has an appointment at the bursary office.

“So I’ll be back here later tonight?” Kurt’s last night. 

“Yeah sure,” Blaine smiles. An actor needs to be an expert at masking disappointment. 

 ...

It’s 7:43 pm when Blaine hears the click of his dorm room door. He was still hoping Kurt might be back in time to grab dinner with him, but he was hungry and not that desperate so he went with his friends to get subs at 6:30. Now he’s sitting at his desk chair, trying to finish his less than riveting transposition assignment. 

“Hey,” Kurt shuts the door, dropping his bag and jacket on his mattress, walking over to the desk. 

“Hey,” Blaine says smiling up for a second before turning back to his homework. “Music theory.” He points down at his paper. 

“Mmmm.” Kurt nods behind him.

Then Blaine feels Kurt’s hands on his shoulders. What? Kurt pauses for a second but then starts lightly massaging. Blaine figures he must look stressed. “What are you working on?” Nothing anymore. “Oh this? Just a transposition assignment. Kurt looks over his shoulder. Blaine can’t imagine Kurt is actually interested in transposition but still his face is getting very close to Blaine’s. Blaine can feel his breath on his cheek. What is Kurt doing?  He pushes out his desk chair to look at him and Kurt’s hands fall naturally away.

“How were your meetings?” Blaine deflects whatever the situation is. Seems a safe topic.

“Professor Cohen has a spot for me to teach martial arts in stage combat, actually. If I get in, of course.” Kurt sits down on the edge of Blaine’s bed. “And the bursary office was almost as fun as Pride and Prejudice last night.”  

“It was fun,” Blaine nods. He can still feel the thumping of the music, so many boys crowded on to the dance floor.  So much charged energy. Or maybe that was just when Kurt’s body was pressed against his at the end of the night. Whatever.

“You’re a good dancer,” Kurt says, not breaking eye contact since sitting down. Blaine’s heart starts to race, his brain willing him to calm down, that he knows they’re just friends. New, just barely friends at that. Not every hot gay guy will want him. And if Kurt had, he had his chance. Or chances. Anyways, he is a good dancer.

“Thanks,” Blaine shrugs, hiding his blush. “You too.” The silence feels heavy and Blaine is worried it’s going to get awkward. Why now? He’s running through a list of conversation topics to stop the silence - Do you play an instrument? Favorite musical? Favorite museum? 

“If you come sit here, I’ll finish that massage,” Kurt breaks it first. Blaine’s eyebrows rise and he tries to keep his face neutral. Calm. Kurt is biting his lower lip but there’s a smile underneath. Maybe even a shy one as he motions with his head for Blaine to come. “You look like you’ve been sitting at that desk for too long.” Was that a pick up line? He’s been sitting at his desk for about 23 minutes. Clearly too long. Now his hands are clammy but at least it’s Kurt who is giving the massage.

Obviously he goes to sit on his bed. He smiles and turns his back to Kurt. Kurt’s hands are strong. Blaine thinks that he must have a firm handshake. Madam Tibideaux will like that. 

A good actor also needs to be able to hide his excitement. And nerves. Never let them see you sweat.

“Is this okay?” Kurt breaks the silence after a few minutes.

“Mmmm,” Blaine hums. “Not exactly the word I would choose, though.”

“Oh really?” Kurt’s voice is soft and amused. “And what word would you choose?”

Oh. “Maybe relaxing.” Ugh no. “I mean amazing,” Blaine corrects himself. “Feels good, hot.” Blaine shudders. 

Kurt’s hands freeze on his back. Too much. Delete. “I mean-”

“Blaine?” Kurt’s hands disappear and Blaine closes his eyes to hide from the rejection. “Can you turn around?” Great. He turns. They’re both now sitting cross legged on Blaine’s bed. Situation shifted from sexual tension to honest conversation time. Blaine wishes he could rewind. ”So,” Kurt starts and he’s biting his lip again. It’s a cute look. Which is annoying. “I may have noticed that you maybe wanted something to happen this weekend,” Blaine is silent. “I mean between us.” Yeah, you didn’t need to clarify.

“I guess.” Blaine knows he’s blushing. What’s he supposed to say? Minimize. “I mean I was cool either way,” Kurt’s still biting his lip and his look is skeptical but he lets Blaine continue. “I mean you’re hot,” Kurt looks down, definitely also blushing. “But I know I”m only a freshman and I’ve never been with anyone and you’re obviously-”

“Obviously what?” 

Oh. “Obviously not going to want to-” Blaine pauses. He’s embarrassed enough and self deprecation is not sexy.

“I want to, actually.”

“What?” Blaine’s not sure he can take any more of this back and forth. Kurt’s smiling now. Pure flirt. Blaine’s hands are shaking and clammy. Hot. Not in the good way.

“I want to kiss you,” Kurt says matter of factly. “And if that’s okay with you, I think we should see where it goes from there.” 

Blaine nods. “Definitely okay. But still not the word I would choose.” Sexual tension reinstated. 

Kurt is blushing. He is blushing. And they are just sitting there on his dumb little single dorm bed, in dumb child-like cross legged positions, and Blaine is trying to figure out how to get from here to kissing. “We could-” Kurt lies down on the bed and makes room for Blaine to lie down beside the wall.

“Sorry,” Blaine says as he kicks Kurt’s shin trying to get into position. “I warned you the room was small.” So he hasn’t quite mastered the art of pillow talk. Blaine is grinning stupidly and trying not to avoid eye contact and feeling a little ridiculous because he is sweaty and nervous and about to kiss this guy. Be cool. But also, Kurt is lying on his bed, pink and sparkling and probably not nearly as nervous as he is. Kurt giggles. But maybe slightly.  

Then Kurt’s arm is moving around his waist, pulling their bodies together. Kissing. Finally. He’s been ready for so long. Lips and tongues and teeth. It’s messy and wet and he’s sure he’s way too eager. But he’s kissing. And kissing Kurt. 

....

Two hours later, Blaine lies on his back staring wide eyed at the ceiling, trying not to wake Kurt who is curled up in a ball snoozing lightly beside him.

“You okay?” Kurt opens an eye. Blaine turns to him with his best ‘Okay is not the word I was looking for’ look. Again.

“Mmmmhmm.”

“You look shell shocked.” Kurt says propping himself up on his elbow.  Blaine shrugs. Probably accurate. “Too much?”

Blaine turns to face him. “No.” 

Turns out that “I want to kiss you,” turns very quickly into seeing where things go. 

“Can I take off your shirt?” Kurt was kneeling above him and he was lying there, kiss stained and relaxed and not about to say no.

“Well I guess fair is fair. I’ve already seen you shirtless.”

“You have?” They’d spent this weekend taking respectful turns in the washroom. 

“The night I met you,” Blaine answers and it clicks. 

“My beer stained shirt,” Kurt laughs. “ I am a bit of an exhibitionist,” He says as he tosses off his own shirt and starts unbuttoning Blaine’s.

The rest happened so easily and naturally that it’s a bit of a blur. Rolling and bundled and kissing in boxer briefs and Blaine’s hands wandering down Kurt’s back no longer wanting to stop at the elastic band. “I wanted to do this last night,” He breathes as he cups Kurt’s ass and squeezes. 

“Take them off,” Kurt encourages and then they’re naked and kissing and Blaine is too turned on to worry about any aftermath of sex on the first date. They’ve spent three nights together, anyways. 

Kurt’s cock is amazing. Especially hard in his hand as Kurt moans into his neck, flush on top of him. And Blaine isn’t sure what comes over him but he’s pretty sure the words “Blow me” are his own. Kurt looks up at him, pausing from where he’s kissing down his chest, eyebrows raised. “Please. I want you to.” 

“Bossy,”  Kurt whispers into his ear and he feels Kurt’s body peel off of his, sticky sweat hitting the cool air. He opens his eyes, about to apologize, but he can’t before Kurt sinks down on him, on his knees, nothing but an amused twinkle in his eyes before he closes them.

Kurt moans around him and he moans back which takes him too close to the edge of this being over, so he bites back his own sounds.

“I want to hear you again,” Kurt pops off before humming around him.

“I can’t. I’m too close.”

“Me too.” Kurt touches himself between his legs. “Come on, do it.”

“Bossy,” Blaine groans but he obliges, breathing hard and loud, Kurt’s name on his lips as he comes in Kurt’s mouth. “You didn’t have to-”

But Kurt takes a come streaked finger and shushes him as he lets his head fall back and moans, finishing for himself. “I wanted to.”

And now they’re here. Loose and tired and still naked in Blaine’s bed. And no it wasn’t too much. But it is a lot. At least for him.

“You’re bossy when-” Kurt pauses, his cheeks turning pink. It’s a little late for modesty.

“When in the middle of sex?” Blaine laughs at Kurt’s sudden shyness. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Well I guess my bedroom skills are so well honed that I can bring out your inner diva.”

“Sorry,” Blaine apologizes. “I really didn’t mean to-”

“I liked it.” Kurt inches into him, lips on his shoulder. “Dummy. Of course I did.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good,” Blaine smiles a little smugly. “It was pretty epic for a first time.”

“For an any time,” Kurt says. “And trust me, it isn’t always.”

“I don’t know if that means we should never do that again lest I disappoint, or risk seeing you again and seeing what happens.”

“You have no choice.”

“I don’t?”

“No. We’re obviously going to see each other again. You’re dating my roommate.”

...

They text for the next few weeks. Not all the time. Not always flirty. But sometimes. Enough. Well, almost enough. But he’s okay to play it cool.

Kurt: Thanks for having me last weekend. It was fun :)

Blaine: It was okay ;) 

Kurt: That’s now a running joke, right? 

Blaine: No. It was okay. We definitely need more practice.

Kurt: Can you explain transposition to me in three minutes or less?

Blaine: Good luck on your history mid-term! Doesn’t Tina have that too? Tell her good luck!

Kurt: Good luck on your showcase audition!

It’s back and forth as casual as possible while feeling like you’re falling slowly from up in the warm clouds, until Blaine’s phone starts buzzing and buzzing in the middle of music history class. Enough times that he excuses himself.

Kurt: I GOT IN!!!!! I’M COMING TO NYADA!!

Blaine texts back bolded caps CONGRATULATIONS and every celebratory emoji he can find. Including the kiss. Seven times. 

And Kurt’s text that night is an open invitation. 

Kurt to Blaine:  Any chance you’ll come visit your girlfriend next weekend? I hear she misses you.

Blaine to Tina: You up for a visit this weekend?

Tina to Blaine: Of course!

Tina to Blaine: Oh but.

Blaine to Tina: But what?

Tina to Blaine: You should know that -

Blaine to Kurt: Buying my ticket. Can’t wait! Oh but-

Kurt to Blaine: But what?

Blaine to Kurt: It’s just that I haven’t - 

Blaine to Kurt: Told her yet.

Tina to Blaine: Told them yet.

Blaine to Kurt and Tina: This should be fun.

[agrestenoir]

turn right (1/2)

Title: turn right Pairing: Lila Rossi/Chat Noir Summary: It’s too quiet, she’s tired, and all Lila Rossi wants is a friend. read on AO3

This is part 1 of a my remix for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare for the Remix Challenge. I was assigned the insanely talented BrenanaBread and decided to remix their lovely fic, Lovebug. Hope I did it justice. Honestly, I saw the Jonas Brothers and jumped because hello throwback?

Lila doesn’t remember much about her time as an akuma.

If she closes her eyes and tries hard enough, she can faintly recall the wind rushing past her as she leapt over the Paris rooftops and the cold hand of an illusion clasped around hers. While she wishes to know more about the time she holds against herself, in a way, it’s a gift not to remember it. The things she did, the people she hurt—Lila doesn’t want to think about any of that. She just wants to stop hurting. 

It’s bad enough being the new girl, outed as a liar by Paris’s famous superhero, but to carry the constant weight of the akumazation on her shoulders takes more of a toll than people realized. 

Going to school is a long and treacherous road that she isn’t too fond of walking. It’s winding and windy, and she’s nearly blown off the path before she even scales the stairs to the front of the building. Already classmates who’d been fawning over her every word the day before are sending her curious but cold glances over their shoulders when they think she isn’t looking. A sick, nauseating feeling bubbles up in the pit of her stomach, and it takes all she has to push that fear and humiliation back down. 

The sad truth of the matter is that Lila has no friends. As the new girl, while her lies helped her masquerade, now that the mask is gone, so is the mystery and intrigue. No one wants to get to know her because what else is there to get? After Alya heard Ladybug’s accusations in the park yesterday, everyone knows the truth now. Lila the Liar, as Chloe has taken to spreading, and it’s not like anyone has tried to stop her (just like it’s not like it’s not true). Lila knows she made a mistake by telling lies to get people to like her, but after the sixth new school in the last three years, could anyone really blame her? The lies were a quick and easy way to meld in with the new crowd of new people with new faces and new voices. She just wanted to be liked and have friends.

And that’s the crux of the matter. Lila is lonely, and all she wants is a friend.

But thanks to Ladybug, that will never happen.

Now she sits in the back of crowded classrooms, head buried in her hands, too afraid to face the world. She wonders how long it’ll be until her father relocates again. She has never wished for the day she gets to leave to come sooner, always dreading the fact since it means leaving friends she’d finally made (and even though they swear to keep in touch, the weeks fly by, relationships are strained, and suddenly Lila is alone again). It’s a constant cycle of coming and going, having and hurting, and loving and losing. The geography of Lila’s heart is full of high mountain ranges and wide, open oceans, barriers to block the capital city from complete destruction, but each day a little bit more is chipped away and crumbles to dust.

Watching her classmates from across the room, Adrien with the DJ, and the Ladyblogger with Gabriel’s Protégé… She wonders what it would be like to have a friend like that.

So, as upsetting as her akumazation was, a small part of her wishes she remembered it. If only to have one connection to her classmates, something everyone could relate too, because most of them had been akumas as well. Volpina may have been evil and hurt people, but something good could have come out of it if she remembered.

May she could’ve had at least one friend.

*

 It starts three days after her akumazation.

Lila sits on the edge of her balcony, her legs poking through the rusty rails with bare feet kicking in the cool, evening air. Paris is different from Milan—quieter even in the late hours of the night—and it’ll take her a while to get used to the new setting. Which means sleep won’t come for a long time still. 

She sighs and stares at the dark sky above her, which twinkles with clusters of stars and the soft glow of the pale moon, and she can’t help but think there’s something ethereal about Paris at night.

…She wants someone to share it with.

The thought leaves her in a whoosh, air jumping from her lungs as if a wrecking ball had slammed into her ribcage, and she can’t catch her breath. It’s funny, Lila thinks to herself, that she came out here to feel better, and all she succeeded in doing was remind herself of how truly lonely she was.

A burning sensation prickles in the corner of her eyes, and she sniffles helplessly, fighting back the tears that had been brimming for days. It’s been a long fought war against the onslaught—she absolutely refuses to give in now.

“Lila?” The voice comes from the corner of her balcony, and she starts, whipping around to come face-to-face with a pair of huge, green eyes glowing eerily in the dark shadow of her apartment building.

“C-Chat Noir?” she asks, breathless. 

Chat Noir clampers down from his perch on the balcony railing, landing softly on his toes, and settles back on his haunches with a small, cautious smile. “Mind if I join you?” 

Lila takes a moment to reorient herself, the world turning slippery as she faces off against one half of Paris’s famous superhero duo, who just days before had battled her akumatized-self. All she can manage is a small nod and gestures to the empty space between them, mouth still open in surprise.

Chat Noir flashes her a quick, blinding smile—teeth and all—and slips his legs between the railing, parking himself alongside her. “Thanks,” he says, “I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.” Their thighs brush against each other as they kick their feet back and forth, falling in sync like a pendulum swinging in time with a clock.

He is patient with her as she struggles to form a coherent sentence. It’s such a drastic change from the scene she faces at school with cold, lingering glances from classmates who refuse to fall for her false smiles anymore. “Take your time,” he tells her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Why are you here?” she finally asks, narrowing her eyes in confusion. I thought you hated me, she wants to say, because why wouldn’t he? Ladybug had a basis for her accusations, even if Lila refused to admit it, and was quick to call her out and ruin everything for her. Why would Chat Noir be any different?

Chat Noir simply shrugs in response, tilting his head towards the sky instead of her questioning stare. “I always check up on people after they’re akumatized. Just something I do.”

“But I fought you,” she protests. “I could have hurt you—”A low chuckle falls from his lips and into the space between them, and Lila’s cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. “Stop laughing at me.”

 “I’m not, I’m not.” But he’s still laughing, still shaking his head. “You’d just be surprised how often I hear that.”

“But it’s true! I could have hurt you!”

 “But you didn’t,” he reassures her, leveling her with his soft gaze. “And everything turned out fine.”

She wants to say more because suddenly it’s so easy. Even if she can’t remember what she did during her stint as Volpina, she knows enough from news footage and eye witness accounts. Threatening Adrien, nearly succeeding in defeating the famed superheroes of Paris, scaring the entire city with fake meteors and bombs and weapons and she just… Suddenly, Lila realizes just how easy it is to hate herself.

It’s funny. She spends so much time trying to get people to like her, and she can’t even like herself… What kind of person does that make her?

Biting her bottom lip, she whispers, “I’m sorry”, as if it can make up for everything she did.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chat Noir says, shrugging her apology off with a nonchalant smile. He loops his arms through the bars of the railing, resting his chin on his shoulder as he stares at her. “It’s in the past.”

“You’re too forgiving,” she says, and there’s an itch under her skin, because people who are too forgiving get hurt easily, people who are too quick to forget make the same mistakes which got them hurt in the first place. She speaks from experience. It’s not a happy situation to fall into.

Chat Noir laughs again, but this time it’s bitter and hard. “I know,” he says like he understands too.

There’s silence between them now, and neither make a move to fill it. Lila can only look out over the city as if it holds the comfort she’s looking for. The moon looms over the world while the stars stand at its side like guards, the whole sky illuminating the two as they sit on her balcony. It’s an idyllic moment, the kind where lovers share the transcendent first kiss under the faint starlight, but all Lila can hope for is something else. Is it really too much to ask to have one friend? Just someone who will sit in her corner when the rest of the world walks away?

She glances at the superhero beside her and thinks about how he sought out her presence on his own, even though she’d never talked to him before, never lied to his face, never spread rumors about knowing him… They’re unacquaintances, strangers to one another. But in a way… That’s how all friendships started, right?

With a hesitant smile, she lets go of the balcony railing and holds out her hand to him. “I’m Lila,” she says, and it’s the first time she introduces herself to someone without an elaborate tale following it. “Lila Rossi.”

Chat Noir’s gloved fingers clasps around her own, claws pricking goosebumps along her cool skin. “Chat Noir,” he offers and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, Lila… officially.”

“Thank you,” she continues, “for saving me from Hawkmoth.” 

He squeezes her hand once more before letting go, wrapping it around the balcony railing again. “It’s my job.” 

Something settles in her chest, like the pieces of her heart are clicking back into place in a tender but turbulent manner, careful and careless all at once. She turns back to the city in front of them, the large, beautiful city that stretches on for miles and miles in every direction. Lila thinks about the quiet and the stillness of it compared to the hustle and bustle of everything else she’s used too.  Was worth it to keep trying to fit in here so long as there’s people like Chat Noir looking out for her? 

“Well you’re good at your job.” She curls a loop of hair around her index finger, gnawing on her bottom lips again. “D-Do you always come to visit akumas?”

Chat Noir gently nudges her with his elbow. “You aren’t an akuma.”

Lila snorts. “Then what would you call me?” 

“A victim,” he tells her, eyes softening. “We call you akuma victims.” 

Her mouth falls open as she struggles to form a coherent response, left dumbstruck from the admission. She already knew the cat-themed superhero forgives too easily, but is it really that simple? He doesn’t just forgive the akumatized person; he never blames them in the first place. And somehow, that makes a world of difference. 

“Victims?” she asks for clarification purposes. “But we’re—”

“You’re vulnerable.” He turns to face her, eyes burning into her own, as if trying to drill the point into her skull. “Think about it. When Hawkmoth sends his butterflies after you, you’re hurt. He purposely picks people who are at their lowest, when they’re at their most vulnerable and easily manipulated.”

“Well that certainly says a lot about me,” Lila interjects, but Chat Noir is already shaking his head.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” he says. “If you’ve been hurt or backstabbed, or embarrassed or angry, and you’re desperate and feel like there’s nothing else you can do? And suddenly you’re offered the power to set things right? To make all that hurt and pain go away? Well, why wouldn’t you take it?”

Lila snaps her gaze away, staring at the potted plant on the other side of her instead. 

“Believe me, I understand. Sometimes I wish I had that chance.”

“To be an akuma?” She quirks an eyebrow high in puzzlement. “Why would a superhero want to be the villain?”

Chat Noir only shakes his head. “No, not the villain. I just mean… sometimes being a superhero is more trouble than it’s worth, and I want to just be done with everything, you know? Akumas get that opportunity, even if it’s just for a little bit, and even if it’s completely twisted and horrible but… I’d be wrong to say I don’t understand what it’s like for you guys. We’re all only human after all.”

We’re only human after all. The words echo through her head, louder than she’d like them to be, as the whispered words from a superhero speak volumes within her.

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” she says.

Chat Noir laughs, more to himself than anything, and leans back on his palms. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you, like I said before. You doing okay?” 

It’s Lila’s turn to laugh that bitter laugh she’s grown so fond of over the last few days. “As well as I can be, I guess.”

“What d’you mean?”

She rests her elbows on her knees, leaning forward under her forehead is against the cool metal of the railing. “Just because you deakumatized me doesn’t mean things got better.” 

Chat Noir turns quiet, smile fading to a small frown. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she manages, shaking her head. “I don’t know why I thought it would. I only got upset because Ladybug had to fuck everything up, and I—”

“Hey, she was just setting things right,” he admonishes, his frown setting deeper, like a marble carving growing more defined. “If you hadn’t lied—” 

“I know!” she snapped, whirling around to face him, eyes flashing wildly as anger brewed in the pit of her stomach like hot acid. “I know, okay? You don’t need to remind me. I already get enough of that at school, and I don’t need you laying into me too.”

Chat Noir is silent, and shame washes over her like the high tide against the shore. She wants to take those words back, but she can’t. Just like she can’t take back the lies, can’t take back losing Adrien’s book, can’t take back being Volpina, can’t take back anything… and suddenly, it’s like a raging fire erupts in her heart, and her hands clasp over her chest in attempt to smother it. Damn it, she’d been doing so well. She’d been nice to Chat Noir, and he’d gone out of his way to make sure she was alright. But now she had yelled, and he was going to leave and hate her, just like everyone else in this god forsaken city! 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” The words break through her silent, raging reverie, and she can barely process them. Lila refuses to say anything, worried that if she opened her mouth more than she intended would spill out.

Chat Noir continues though. “Sounds like you’re having trouble at your new school though.”

“Everyone hates me.”

“I know what that’s like,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. “My first day at my new school, I accidentally hurt this girl, and she was really upset with me. Even after I apologized, I think she was still kind of mad with me for a while, but I just had to keep being myself and hope she accepted it, you know? If she saw I really meant it, maybe she could forgive me.”

“Did she?” 

Chat Noir smiles to himself. “Yeah, actually, she did. She’s one of my best friends now.”

Lila pulls her hand from the railing and toys with her fingers, needing to be doing anything to take her mind off of the situation, but the words still leave her lips because something tells her that she needs to be open and honest with him. “I wish I could have that.” “Forgiveness?” he asks.

“A friend.” 

There’s silence again—thick and heavy like fog before a storm—but she pushes past it and forces herself to admit the truth. “I lied… to a lot of people, and I don’t know how to fix that.” Chat Noir bites his lip, pondering the problem for a moment before suggesting, “I know it sounds easy, but apologizing might be the only thing you can do?” 

Lila shakes her head, unable to even think about apologies, because those are the hardest things to do. Admitting your wrong, especially to the people you wronged, is scarier than moving to a new country, becoming an akuma, and dealing with the disastrous fallout all together. 

“Lila,” Chat Noir says, expression softening as he catches sight of the fear and worry lining her face. “Apologizing isn’t supposed to be easy. Everyone knows that.” 

“You don’t understand,” she protests. “They hate me. They won’t even listen to me—”

“There has to be someone,” he presses.

Her first thoughts flash to Adrien, but she shakes that idea from her head as quickly as it came. She had stolen his book and lost it, and she’d seen him roaming the library frantically as he searched for it. How can she even begin to approach him after what she’d done? 

“Just… Be on the lookout,” Chat Noir tells her. “There’s gotta be someone who’ll listen.”

Instead of answering, Lila cocks her head and turns to him, a small smile stretching across her face. “Do you charge for these therapy sessions, Monsieur Noir?”

Chat Noir closes his eyes as a cool wind whips by, looking the perfect picture of ease. “Like I said, comes with the job. Wouldn’t mind a good tip though.”

“Working with Ladybug not enough for you?” she answers coyly. His eyes snap open in panic, and a dark pink flushes across his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure everyone in Paris can see how you look at her.” 

“Well,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You aren’t wrong.”

“I know,” she replies cheerfully, practically beaming with pride at this point. “I can read people very easily.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yes,” she says simply. She pokes his side with her index finger. “I can see right through you, Chat Noir. You two are dating aren’t you?”

“Can’t deny I’ve got a soft spot for the bug,” he admits softly, “But we’re not dating.”

“Oh, sure you… say…” Something in his sentence causes her words to trail off as she replays the moment in her head. Soft spot for the bug… Where has she heard that before?” 

“Anyway,” he says, “We’re partners, and we look out for each other. And that’s just about it… Lila, are you okay?” 

He cocks his head to the side, blonde hair falling over his forehead like a golden waterfall, and his green eyes are alit with concern, wide and open and just so honest. She’s taken back for a moment because he talks like he cares, like he’s worried, like he’s her friend even though they’d only known each other for a brief time. She doesn’t see this from many people, and she can only recall when Adrien look at her this way on the park bench when Ladybug was yelling and…

…and when Adrien…

…Adrien…

…Adrien.

Suddenly, the world opens up, and even though it’s the middle of the night, the sun comes out and illuminates all the shadows she’d created. Oh, she thinks to herself, it’s so obvious.

Adrien is Chat Noir, and it’s so obvious. How had she not seen this sooner?

A slight smile creeps across her face, and he returns it hesitantly. “You okay?” he asks again.

“Yeah,” she dares to say and maybe she can begin to actually believe it.

How can she even begin to tell him she knows? And oh god, what if she’s know? But the more she looks at him, the quiet and kindness he ensues, the small smiles and the open looks… The more she’s convinced that she can’t be wrong.

Her fingers itch to hold onto something, so she simply wraps them around the bars of the balcony, staring straight out into the night sky. That haunting silence is back, but this time it’s lighter, easier to bear, and Lila can’t stop the smile from growing wider. What are the chances that Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste, and where is she supposed to go from here?

She fidgets in her seat, wanting to ask question upon question and dig deeper and deeper until there isn’t anything else to know. How does she start the conversation and let him know she knew his identity? How will she handle it from there? Does she confess to stealing his book? Oh Lord, would…

His words come back to her. Be on the lookout, he’d said, There’s got to be someone who’ll listen.

…Was Chat Noir talking about Adrien?

The thought takes her off guard, and she is pulled back to reality in a loud thunderclap. As she regains her bearings, she hears a low droning noise, soothing almost, like sweet lullabies during a restless night. Turning towards the superhero, she’s taken back when she realizes he’d been humming this whole time. She is stuck over here in a world of her own, the earth-shattering realizations cutting deep and hard into her caged heart, and he’s just humming.

“Y-You sound good,” she whispers, almost afraid to disturb him. She doesn’t know how to talk to him now that she knows Chat Noir, the superhero who cared, is Adrien Agreste, the boy she hurt.

“Oh,” Chat Noir says, finally noticing her snapback to reality. The blush on his face darkens even more, and he ducks his gaze from view. “N-Nothing, just bored.”

“Glad I could keep you entertained.”

“L-Lila!” He fumbles for an excuse, not noticing the grin stretching wider across her face. “I was just—”

“I know,” she tells him, and suddenly that’s all he needs.

There’s more silence, but this time it slowly dissipates when Chat Noir’s humming turns to singing. It’s a few lines, just a few bars, but he stares at her as he sings like it’s purposeful, as if the superhero is speaking to her directly in ways that simple words can’t express.

“So turn right, into my arms. Turn right, you won’t be alone. You might fall off this track sometimes. Hope to see you at the finish line.”

“…That’s beautiful,” she says as the last note echoes between them, dipping and diving past her ears, until all that’s left is the sound of heart putting itself back together. “You… sound really good.”

“You gonna be okay?” he asks again, and she can only nod. “Glad to hear it.”

He pushes himself to his feet and unclips his baton, and she follows suite, a hand stretching out to grasp his elbow. But she doesn’t know if it’s to pull him back or push him away, because all he does is make her confused and hopeful. Like she has a reason to wake up tomorrow and go to school with a sliver of hope that things will be okay, that she might leave with a forgiveness and a possible friend. Or will it just lead to more hurt and an opportunity for her to lose what little she had left?

“Chat Noir,” she says, and he cocks his head, waiting for her to continue. At the last second, however, she lets go with a small smile. “Thank you.”

His own warm one mirrors hers. “I’ll be seeing you around, Lila.”

“Plan to visit me again?” she asks, breathless.

He ponders the question for a moment before nodding. “Consider it a date?”

“A date?” Her heart beats louder in her chest.

“A date between friends,” he clarifies, grabbing her wrist suddenly and pecking the back of her hand with a quick kiss. Then, with a flick of his wrist as his only goodbye, he launches himself off her balcony and goes sailing off over the Paris rooftops.

Lila, on the other hand, is caught between a promise and a kiss, with the secret that she holds dearly against her chest, and all she can do is echo the words of the superhero who saved her in more ways than one.

“A friend,” she whispers, “I… have a friend.”

And suddenly, the world seems brighter.

For the first time in a long while, Lila smiles.

And this time, it doesn’t leave her face.

[sebbybooks]

Terrible Love (PT2)

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction Warnings: Language, smut Tagged for updates🌾 @nylalushlifexx My audition was today. I had been stressed out for the pass three weeks rehearsing for it. I had this headache that was made in hell. It seemed like it was never going to end. I overworked myself most days that I couldn't even keep my food down. I needed a break, I was exhausted and my back was completely sore that the pain traveled all the way down to the blisters on my feet. Nonetheless I was determined to keep going. I just hope today they saw my tenacity through my dancing. "Noora they would be crazy for not letting you be apart of their company." Sebastian reassured me trying to wash away all of my self doubt. He was sitting right in front of me in our compacted bathtub. The water was still very hot and the growing bubbles the soap made piled over the bathtub whenever either of us moved. "I can't stop thinking about if I don't get in. I don't have a plan B." I said as I huffed dramatically. Taking my hand through the array of bubbles and blowing them in the direction of Sebastian's face. "Babe, you have nothing to worry about. Everyone sees how fucking talented you are." He looked down in the water for a moment reaching down for something. I felt him grab ahold of my foot then suddenly I slumped down in the tub taking a mouthful of water. "AAAAH!" I screamed right as I went down. Quickly surfacing back up I immediately started coughing out water from my mouth. My hair clung over my eyes and over my face like kelp. When I finally looked at him he was in his own little satisfactory bubble uncontrollably laughing. "That was so not funny." I say to him, but even I couldn't help myself from smiling. "You have a weird laugh." I added. He suddenly stopped laughing looking nearly offended by what I said. "I have a normal laugh." He said sternly. "No you don't actually! You close your eyes cock your head backwards and you can't stop smiling. Then finally the seven year boy octaves just come out in a lengthy chuckle." He thought about my descriptions over in his head looking at me like I said the worst thing imaginable to him. But deep down he knew I was right. "Of course I smile when I laugh! Who frowns and laugh?" He asked. "Your smile is very contagious." I playfully winked at him. Sebastian tilted his head eyeing me from my head down to whatever wasn't covered with the surface of water. He reached his forearm out putting his hand on the back of my neck to pull me in closer with a kiss. I tried to gracefully move closer in his lap, but my leg started to feel tingly from being cramped in the bathtub. I started to wonder how they made it look so easy and romantic on film. The pads of my fingers went pale and they were very wrinkled. Sebastian took his hand up closer to my head to smooth out the back of my hair. Grooming it down, flatly tucking it away behind my ears. I took advantage of how close in contact his chest was to mine. I delicately placed a kiss on the center of his collar bone. Then I raised my head up and kissed him on the chin feeling my top lip brush against his bottom lip. "Happy Anniversary." I whispered against his mouth. Kissing me back I started to feel a little light headed by how intense and passionate our kiss was. The three years we had been together have been the happiest time of my life. I am not always the best at explaining how I feel, but I loved how he made everyday feel like paradise. Sebastian was my best friend that I wanted to spend everyday making his life just as amazing as he had made mine. "Can you guess what I want right now?" I pulled his bottom lip with my teeth tightly wrapping my arms around his neck. " I would love to know what you want." He whispered back with a devilish boyish smile. Leaning closer to his face and letting my hands wonder down his body. "A large Margherita pizza, strawberry cheesecake ice cream, and diet Dr. Pepper!" I reached for the towel hanging over the bar. I wrapped it over my shoulders as I stepped out of the tub onto the cold damp floor. "Payback is a bitch isn't it?" I said to him getting my revenge for dunking me in the water. Days had soon passed before I had heard any news letting me know if I got the spot or not. I started to think officially I just wasn't getting that call. My stress levels went up and I felt worse because of it. When I was a kid I wanted nothing more than the dream of becoming a professional ballet dancer to transcend into a reality. It is the best and worst thing ever. Because it was the only thing I was trained to know. Sebastian and I were out running when the course of my life started to change. I couldn't keep up with him because I felt so fatigued and sluggish. I had some news to tell him that day I just had to pick a right moment. Placing my hands on my hips panting for air I started to walk. Till I noticed him turn around sprinting towards me. He was holding a phone up in the air quickly pressing it up to my ear without letting me know what was happening. "They wanted to speak to a Miss Noora Cooper." Sebastian said breathing heavily. "Who?" I mouthed. "The company!" He smiled so brightly. I wish I could've taken a picture that day. Because I didn't know I wouldn't see it as much anymore. *Present Day* "Should I push you over so you two won't have to talk?" Toby foolishly suggested. Though that wasn't a completely stupid suggestion. It was too late however Sebastian patiently stood behind us waiting for us to turn around. I looked at him and he looked at me before quickly shifting his attention on Toby. "Beautiful ceremony you had today!" Toby said in the midst of our awkward tension. "Thank you, and thank you for coming, both of you." Sebastian's demeanor was reserved and almost coming off as shy. Toby stood in the middle of us as we let the silence take over. "I'm going to get more champagne." Toby went off in the direction he came in. Sebastian was very quick to cut to the chase when Toby was a distance away. "How have you been Noora?" He asked me. "I have been managing quite alright Sebastian." I didn't like how we were saying our names like as if we're strangers. "How's our daughter?" Sebastian finally asked. {Part 2 out of 3}

[commentaryonhowwelive]

December 2018, Age 26. Ice Cold.

Saturday, Afternoon

“Alright guys, take a look at my inside ski,-” I said enthusiastically from behind my ski goggles reflecting a deep black image of the mountain, “-and watch what happens. Tell me what I can do to alleviate what’s happening to it,” I said as I dragged my downhill edge.

It was a blue bird day. The snow was soft, the sun was out and my students seemed to be shedding another layer every time we got to the bottom of the run before we took the chair lift once again. I felt the positive energy coursing throughout the mountain as I guided my students down the slopes. I felt at ease. The only thing I had on my mind was sharing my love of this sport with my students. Helping them feel at ease. Welcoming them to the sport, the culture, the lifestyle.

I skied about 10 feet, applying pressure to my inside ski by stiffening my knees hyperbolically, causing my downhill edge to catch. I made exaggerated pumps with my arms, “hnnnghhh,” pretending like I was trying to rotate my inside ski but I couldn’t.

I looked up at my three giggling students, two middle aged women and a young man in his mid twenties and asked again, “What’s going on?”

“Your leg,” The woman in red chimed in.

“What about it?”

“It’s not turning.”

“Right! Why?”

*silence*

I continued, “Remember this morning when I talked about the flattening of our skis in order to rotate them?”

She immediately realized and spoke up “It’s not flat, it needs to be flat so you can um, turn the ski.”

“To rotate the ski, it needs to be flat! Correct! But is it easy to rotate it if I’m back here?” I asked as I bent my knees and hovered over my butt over the back of my skis while shaking my head, “No way Jose, I need to be,” I spoke as I extended my knees and brought my body up, “forward!”, I then demonstrated a rotation of my inside ski, “Ahhh, so easy! Let’s give it a try!” I said excitedly as I slid my skis down the mountain another 30 feet before spinning around and giving my pole a whirl in the air. 

What looked like a baby deer on skis earlier in the morning turned into a young man for the first time in his life making parallel turns on his skis as he focused so carefully on flattening his inside ski in order to turn back and forth gracefully across the slope. 

“YES! YES BRO!” I yelled as he approached me. Riding on the high of my praise, he tried to hockey stop both of his skis right in front of me unsuccessfully, then picked his head up with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face making sure I was watching. Damn right I was watching.

“That was AMAZING CHRIS!” I gave him a pole tap and spoke from behind my closed teeth, “Freakin awesome. See how efficient you are? How in control you are? How’d that feel?”

“Dude. So good. Like, dude. Awesome.”

A few runs later and we’re practicing hockey stops down a green slope named Powerline.

“OW OWWW,” the sheer volume and fervor of my cries were enough to garner the attention of the those above us as we skied under the lift line, rotating our skis at the same rate, skiing in a beautiful parallel, spraying snow left and right. As the period of their hockey stops shortened, I could tell they were more confident. More excited. They wanted it. They wanted more. They wanted to try it again and again. To get that rush. To get that high. I was getting the high vicariously through them.

“Woo!” Chris yelped testing the waters of how it felt to yell while skiing. To show everyone how his heart was pumping and shining at the same time. Before I knew it, we were all laughing and screaming all the way down. Amazing. My heart was full.

At the end of our lesson, I gave a debrief on the day to my smiling and accomplished students.

“Guys, thank you so much for skiing with me. But more importantly, you should be thanking yourselves. I didn’t make you do anything, you came out. You showed up. You pushed yourselves. And how do you guys feel now after day one?” I asked excitedly and proud.

“In control!” The woman in red replied, five hours after she disclosed that the reason she was taking a lesson was because she tried skiing one time and “felt completely out of control”. I proceeded that morning to explain to her Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, in that in order to have fun, be safe, and have a good time, we need to first and foremost, be safe. In order to be safe, we have to be in control. The fact that she now felt that way made me feel so fulfilled, in that I was blessed with the ability to to help her accomplish her necessary prerequisite of feeling secure so that she could love and enjoy this sport as much as me. 

I asked Chris if he wanted to go get a warm white chocolate chip cookie from the hotel with me.

The lesson was over and we were sitting by the fire eating our cookies, he was drinking tea, I was drinking coffee.

“I can’t thank you enough man. I mean, yesterday morning when I tried to ski on my own and ended up eating shit all the way down the mountain, I thought ‘done, not doing this’, but my girlfriend talked me into a lesson and I’m so happy she did. Otherwise I would’ve just drank beer in the hot tub all day.”

“Damn sounds like a good idea.”

We both laughed and he kept going, “but I wanted so badly to learn to ski and you turned me around 180 degrees. You gave me so much confidence.”

“Bro, that confidence is inside of you. You knew you could do it, I just gave you the fundamentals and was your personal cheerleader all day because I knew for a fucking fact that you’d pick it up. I knew it and I just needed you to know it.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “I know it now! I feel so good brother. But hey I’ve gotta get going to meet up with my girlfriend and her parents for dinner, thanks again so much man I can’t say it enough.”

“Dude,” I smiled, “thanks for skiing with me today. I’m happy to get you where you wanted to be so you can love this sport as much as I do.”

He got up and gave me a fist bump, “You, will forever be the man, who taught me how to ski.”

I kind of wanted to cry. Something that has given me so much meaning in my life, so much excitement and stoke, I’ve managed to transcend unto another human being. Then what if he teaches someone else? And what if they get even more stoked than I get when I ski? I might’ve just increased the universal level of stoke by levels of magnitude.

---------

Sunday Afternoon

I sat in the passenger seat of her Mini Cooper as we drove down Airport Road. I was cross legged talking enthusiastically about my ski student that day.

“Can we be exclusive?” Dara asked abruptly.

I went quiet. 180 degrees. I looked out the window.

Air filled my lungs slowly, then exited like lingering party guests. I didn’t say anything. 

“I mean, you said last night you aren’t interested in anyone else,” she continued, “so can we just say we’re exclusive?”

“I’m not interested in anyone else,” I then went quiet.

She brushed her blonde hair back then put her hand on my knee, “I know, but why don’t you want to just say we’re exclusively dating? What’s stopping you?”

“I just don’t like commitment. You know me. We hang out every day, obviously I’m not hanging out with anyone else.”

“I just...I don’t know. I didn’t expect to meet anyone like you out here and it’s kind of hard for me to feel this way for you but have you not reciprocate this simple request.”

I stayed quiet.

---------

Monday Night

We stood under the bridge in the frigid cold atop a frozen creek. I didn’t expect to spend much time there, but we did. My arm was propped up against the lower scaffolding of the bridge as she stood on a rock, bringing her eyes just above mine. She shivered.

“Maybe if you wore regular pants you wouldn’t be so chilly cold,” I joked as I moved my body closer to hers and rested my hand on her shoulder under her brunette hair.

“Oh my gosh I told you, I don’t even own regular pants. Yoga pants and leggings are my pants,” she replied as I admired her thin legs, “why are we here anyways?” she asked flirtacious and knowingly, “I feel like you brought me here for a reason.”

“Mmmm, nope, just wanted figured this would be a great spot to stand and be freezing for a while,” I said, the grin never leaving my face, “but I kind of like the tension.”

“The tension?”

“Yeah because you obviously want me to kiss you,” I said.

“What!? No! Hah! Me?! I mean, maybe you want that, but..no no. Not me.”

‘Ok,” I said tilting my head back which had previously been about four inches from her face, “good thing we settled that.”

“Oh well I mean, it could always be up for debate.”

This went on for about 15 minutes. As the night grew darker and the wind began chipping away at our bones, we found our selves in an embrace, of course only to stay warm.

“I’m cold and I feel like we’re not going to leave until we kiss,” Ciara said with a dainty indignation in her voice.

“Hm yeah I suppose that’s probably true. We’ll have to make it quick so we can just go then, huh?”

With no further words, after 15 minutes of building our first kiss, she grabbed my neck and pulled me close which I immediately reciprocated by clasping each side of her face with my freezing hands. We kissed hard, then let up. I pulled my face back, looked into her eyes, then kissed her again. This time longer. The first time you kiss someone, it’s kind of like being really drunk for about ten seconds. Like, eight shots of vodka drunk. Nothing else matters. Nothing. I forgot I was cold. I forgot we were under a bridge. I forgot about work the next day. I forgot about everything except for her lips and my hands which were now around her hips.

As we climbed back over the snow bank lining the frozen creek which winded its way all the way through our little ski town, I grabbed her hand to help her up but I didn’t let go this time, as I did when I helped her down.

“I feel ok with actually holding your hand now,” I said turning my face all the way toward hers. She looked at me, smiled and kissed my cheek.

I parked next to her Honda Pilot. I kissed her again as she left my car and walked into her apartment. She pulled her phone out as she sat on her bed, 

“You can come over now if you want. I have whiskey ;)” she texted him.

I walked through my front door and said to my roommate, “I think just fell for a girl hard.”

“What about Dara?” he asked, concerned.

“Bro old news. This new girl is so hot I can’t believe it.”

“Damn dog, you’re savage.”

I went to bed that night with the most shallow sense of pride.

---------

Tuesday Morning

“Are you teaching today?” Dara asked me over the phone as I road the gondola alone to work. My breath fogged the hard plastic with each breath. 

“Yeah. I have some returns. Also, I’m seeing someone else now.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to be exclusive. I’m still down to hang out and ski, but I just don’t want to be intimate anymore.”

“I understand.”

She didn’t have much to say and nor did I. I could tell I took the breath out of her excitement which was so apparent only moments ago when she called me to say good morning and ask what I had in store for the day.

I was cold.

“I need to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye..”

---------

Tuesday Night

Ciara and I were in my car on our way to my 20 miles south of town, “It’s not a bad drive. During the day it’s gorgeous. Like you.”

“Ohmygoshstooooop,” she said blushing.

I smiled big and wrapped my hand around her thigh, “Seriously. I can’t believe how beautiful you are. You know I wrote down a few months ago exactly what my type is and it pretty much describes you down to your eyebrows.”

“My eyebrows? Oh gosh..”

“Thick eyebrows.”

“Thick? Really? I kind of hate them. I was thinking about getting them thinned out.”

“Oh God no, keep them the way they are. They’re,”

Ed Sheeran on the radio took the words out of my mouth, “perfect...”

---------

Late Tuesday Night

She peaked out naked from my behind my bedroom door to see if my roommate was in the living room, then ran quickly to the bathroom across the hall because she didn’t want to put clothes on.

While she was in there, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling with a sense of pride deeper than I could recall ever having. I landed such an awesome girl. She’s so quick, witty, funny, beautiful. I couldn’t believe it.

She came back into the room and crawled into bed, still naked. She nestled into me and I wrapped my long arms around her. She was so thin that I had to put my left arm under her neck so she’d be comfortable, then my right arm wrapped tightly around her chest. She held my hands with her cold fingers. Our body heat warmed us quickly and we drifted off. We slept so well that night.

---------

Friday Night

We sat in my car, making out long enough to fog up the windows. All the better, now we had some privacy.

“Do you want to be exclusive?” I asked her nervous and excited. Probably a 40-60 split between the two emotions. She did that adorable thing with her face, which was in reality, always adorable. But when she did this she was extra adorable. Her thick eyebrows raised high, her mouth opened wide, her nostrils flared just a little bit. She smiled a bit with her mouth still open, ready to start talking. Then she stopped. She looked away, her shoulders moved toward the passenger window and her excited face turned into a mousey one. She puckered her lips and looked down.

“I...think I would like that,” she said uncertain.

“You think?” I asked laughing.

“I just have to be really honest with you,” she replied taking a deep breath, “because I’ve gotten into relationships before when I wasn’t honest and it didn’t end well and I’m like...well I’m just done with that!” she ended with a great fervor.

“Ciara, you can tell me anything,” I responded lovingly, “I’m falling for you so hard and I want to be able to be there for you for anything,” I said like a classic sucker.

“You know Wednesday night when I went night skiing with my friend from high school?”

“Yeah..?”

“We had sex afterwards.”

Her words didn’t have any meaning at first. It was as if she was acting. A joke. It wasn’t real.

“But we were really drunk! I still had a half a bottle of whiskey and we ended up drinking the...whole thing,” she said, slowing her words with a deep seeded shame.

It hit me. Then, my heart sunk. Deep into my stomach. The butterflies I had just moments ago were squashed by a massive brick that ripped its way through my insides, tearing up everything with zero regard for damage.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes.”

There was a long silence. We both sat in the car. The windows still fogged. I breathed deeply. Her breaths were shallow.

“We had sex on Tuesday night,” I said, “then we had sex last night too. After we went night skiing. You’re telling me you had sex with someone else in between? Is this an accurate statement?” I spoke coldly, as if interrogating a criminal.

“We used protection!” she defended herself.

“Is,” I asked again, “this an accurate statement?”

“Just, you and I weren’t exclusive and I’d been kind of seeing him before but I’m totally over him and-” 

I cut her off and asked for a third time, “is this an accurate statement?” 

“Yes.”

---------

Late Friday Night

“Fucking Summit County trash bro. Fucking trash,” I raged while I paced back and forth in my kitchen, one hour later and 20 miles south of where my heart was ripped out with a corkscrew.

“Bro, you’re so much better than her anyways. My man, you know how many of these hot mamas in this town are eyeing you? She’s a little sardine in this sea of big ole’ trout naw’m sayin player?” My roommate comforted me.

“Trout aren’t even in the ocean...are they? Whatever, Ciara’s a fucking whore.” I kept saying, over and over.

“The player got played,” he said.

“What?” I responded quizzically.

He laughed and lightened the mood, “You had Dara wrapped around your finger bro, she was so into you and you dropped that lil’ mama the second you saw a new piece of ass. How you think she was feelin’? Probably a whole lot like you right now playa,”

---------

Saturday, around noon

I held the two knives cockeyed. They looked on with morbid interested. “So as you can see, if I turn them this way,” I displayed on my model slope made out of a trail map and a glass of water, “I’ll catch my edges and, WHOOP! I’ll fall down the mountain. So instead,” I continued, edging the knives the other way, “If I use my uphill edges while I’m making my rotations, I’ll be able to hold myself up, pushing snow and moving against gravity.” 

My students and I were at lunch as I explained with two butter knife skis why weight shifting is so important while making turns.

“I’m going to step outside and meet with the rest of the gang since we’re running a few minutes behind. I’ll see you homies outside!” I said with a mask on.

Upon getting outside, I saw the other students in the class weren’t there yet, so I took the opportunity to pull my phone out and text Sophia.

“Hey, just wanted to say sorry about how shitty I was a few years ago. What I did to you just happened to me. It sucks. I hope you’re well.”

Then I texted Dara, “Hey, want to go to Mi Casa tonight?”

---------

Saturday, Happy Hour

“That’s why I’m kind of just...” I said with slight hesitation, “wanting to be exclusive now. I realized how special you are,” I then took a gulp of PBR. 

“I’m happy that you feel that way because I think that you’re incredibly special as well, but I’m really just looking for good friends right now,” she said confidently.

I knew there was no going back. I regretted it.

“As I said before, I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you out here,” she said tenderly nibbling on a chip which I would’ve eaten in one bite, along with six others, “but these past few days made me realize how important it is I focus on myself. I think you’re an amazing person Paul, and I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

I took another gulp of PBR.

[mrshmid]

YEAR 2, DAY 21 (day 155)

Day 2 of Insanity

The first thing I heard was Terry telling me to “Wake the **** up”.  A good start to the day.  It was 8:30 and I had slept 4 hours.  There were some ‘special visitors’ coming by the Center and they couldn’t have a bunch of nerds sleeping all over the floor.

I stuffed my sleeping bag into a bag and tossed it in a corner by the VR stuff.  Then brushed the gunk off my teeth and checked up on everyone else.  Half the team was preparing to go to a special morning-sleeping room because they’d been up all night working on various cool and complicated things that didn’t want to work.

Then I went to get some tea from Starbucks because I still felt asleep.  When I got back I started working out the remaining kinks in the audio visualizer.  This went on for a while.  All the while, the amount of people outside the window continued to grow.  I didn’t think much of it until I glanced out the window and noticed that a lot of them were holding signs and were part of a group that stretched down the street.  I checked Google News and, as it turns out, there were worldwide protests for women’s rights and basically everything Trump was against.

The visualizer was pretty much perfect so I took a break to watch the crowd go by.  There were some very...weird signs and outfits among the group.  After a while, I realized I was getting pretty hungry so I decided to go to the Subway inside the Center Building.  This was a bad idea.  As it turned out, the march didn’t just go through the Seattle Center, it ended there.  A good deal of the protesters were jammed into the Center Grounds.  It was like I was at Disneyland in the summer.  Also, the Center Building itself was holding a Chinese Vietnamese New Year festival and people were there for that.

It took me a good thirty minutes to walk a few hundred feet to Subway, wait in line, and get my sandwich.  I decided to stay away from the Center building for the rest of the day.

Some time before or after this, I was told that we had broken Unity’s quick-and-easy source control and we were switching to GitHub to store and share our work.  I was fine with this, but for some reason it GitHub refused to work for me.  I spent an unknown number of hours trying to make it work.  Luckily, I didn’t really have anything to work on.

It was dark out when I finally managed to successfully create a GitHub branch and publish it to the repository.  It worked.  After asking around to see what I could do, I started making a script to rotate the tunnel we would be flying down.  To my dismay, barely any of the things that had been started the previous day had been complete.  The only one who was making visible progress was Lukas, our artist-turned-programmer.

I spent a while pouring over the tunnel-generation code before I figured out how it all worked and did what I wanted in about five lines of code.

I had nothing to do at this point and neither did James and neither did Sabrina(our background artist who made a lot of stuff that was never used) so we all wandered back into the room and stared at the butterflies in trapped behind the glass walls of the butterfly house.  Then we wandered over to the snakes and James tried to get them to follow his fingers.  Then I looked behind me and saw a tank with these guys in it:

Yup, those are axolotls, or, as I like to call them, Mudkips.  We kept on staring at weird animals for a while before returning to the hubbub to see if there was anything to do.  There wasn’t, but before long there was an ANNOUNCEMENT.  All the jammers were invited to any of the laser shows that were going on that night.  For those of you who have not heard, the laser shows are basically concert/music video things where you go into a polygon-dome and the lights go off and a bunch of lasers flash all over the ceiling to music.

The first one, at 8:00 was for Daft Punk.  All the others didn’t matter because they weren’t Daft Punk.  The announcement was at 7:40 so everyone who was going quick-walked through the cold air and semi-rain from the jam building to the laser-room in the other building.

When I was eventually let in I noticed a very large blank spot on the floor.  This was so that you could lie down and stare up at the ceiling without craning your neck.  I wish cinemas did this with movies.

Eventually, the lights dimmed and the show began.  It started with the opening part of Da Funk, with a heavy helping of bass.  It was like the kind of bass you hear/feel when you pull up next to a car playing rap at max volume, with the bass (always) turned all the way up.  I could feel it moving through my bones and vibrating my entire body.  It was also hurting my ears.

This continued for quite some time.  The bass did not let up.  If anything, it intensified.  It drowned out everything else and all that was left was the low, impossibly deep THUMP THUMP THUMP of the beat.  I didn’t even see the lasers above me.  The thumping was taking over my mind and forcing its way deep into my soul.  I was becoming one with the rhythm, I was becoming a part of the bass.

Just when I thought I would transcend this audial plane and truly merge with the bass, it stopped.  The crowd was silent.  We were unable to cheer, unable to boo or moan or show any sort of approval or disapproval.  Then, suddenly, I recognized the familiar tune of Harder Better Faster Stronger.  Everyone else did too.  There was a sudden round of applause and cheering as everyone realized they had been released from the strong yet soothing grip of the bass.

The show lasted about an hour.  Each song used more advanced, impressive laser tricks.  Also, all of the songs were remixed or mashed together in some way, like One More Time and Aerodynamic (this one was probably my favorite mash-up).    The best one, in my opinion, was Derezzed.  Not only did they keep the song intact, but the lasers were used to create a Tron-style music video instead of just using an abstract display like they had been.

The show ended a bit after that.  The lights came back on and I remembered that the world existed outside of this room.  As I stood up, I felt like my bones had been pulled toward the floor during the show.  It felt like I existed a bit behind my body.  What this means is that I was walking really stiffly for a while after that.

Overall it was really cool but there was too much bass at the beginning.

After that I decided I would go home for the night and sleep in a real bed.  Also I had tea I could make at home and if I did that I wouldn’t have to wait in line for 5 minutes at Starbucks and then pay $5.50 (or so) for a cup of Chai Latte.

So, around midnight (I don’t remember what I was doing up until then), I grabbed my pack and headed home.  It was really quiet out.  I saw maybe 10 cars pass me as I walked down Mercer St, which is one of the most congested streets in Seattle.

And then I slept.