#Major William Cage

[00-08-07-01]

[spectorgram]

eyes wide open

pairing: theodore nott x f! reader summary: you discover that there is so much more to theodore nott than you thought.  content: gryffindor! reader, semi-nsfw (characters are 18+) word count: 5.46k

You have never spoken to Theodore Nott before. You’ve him around a lot, usually with Mattheo Riddle or Lorenzo Berkshire, and he is a regular on the quidditch team — a chaser — so you’d see him zoom by during matches. He’s also in a majority of your classes for this year, which lets you observe him from afar. But past that, you’ve never really had much to do with him beyond seeing him with Malfoy and witnessing how he stands quietly — with either a small smirk or a look of complete apathy on his face — while Malfoy and your friends argue back and forth. 

Having class with Theodore Nott has let you learn three things about him: he’s quiet, whip-sharp, and unbelievably handsome. You didn’t need classes with him to know the last one is a well-known fact; he’s constantly noted as one of the most attractive of your classmates. “Shame he’s a Slytherin,” Lavender Brown once said to you, which had made you roll your eyes and retort, “And what’s wrong with that?” It had gotten you into a big fight and you don’t think she’s spoken to you since, not that you’ve really wanted her to. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Ron asks you as he, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny stand at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. “Mum would love to have you. She’s always banging on about what a lovely girl you are and how polite you were.”

“And I’m sure Fred would love to see you,” Ginny adds. 

You snort, “I’m really sure. But please give my regards to your mother and Fred.”

“Will do,” Ginny says with a two-finger salute. 

Your friends say their farewells as they leave through the portrait hall. You flop against the plush velvet of the couch, staring at the roaring fire. Your parents were on a months-long that brought them to see famous wizarding landmarks so you’re stuck at Hogwarts for the holiday. You’re a little disappointed that you won’t be with your family but another part of you is excited to be in the castle when it’s less populated. You’ll finally get to make your way through the massive pile of books you have at your bedside since you’re usually caught up in listening to and gossiping with your roommates. 

You head up to your room, empty except for you and your owl hooting in his cage. You wiggle your fingers inside, Ramses rubbing his feathery head against them. You grab the first book from the top of your pile, turning the leather-bound edition over in your hand. Hermione gifted it to you for your last birthday: William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. You shimmy into your gold and red striped sweater and tuck the book underneath your arm, walking down to the dining hall for dinner. 

Students are scattered around the Great Hall, some chattering with their friends while others eat silently. The ceiling has shifted to depict a clear night sky, floating candles casting an orange glow. You spot Mattheo Riddle alone at the Slytherin tables but the way he keeps looking to the door makes you assume he’s waiting for a friend. You settle down on a bench all to yourself, piling your plate with the mouthwatering selections available to you. 

You rest your chin on your fist, cracking open the play. You get only a few pages in when you hear a familiar low voice. “All alone, little lion?” His eyes examine you and you suddenly feel too exposed despite your layers. 

You come face-to-face with Theodore Nott and his sea blue eyes. He regards you coolly and you ask, “Can I help you, Nott?”

He points at your copy of Romeo and Juliet. “Where’d you get that?”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Why in Godric’s name is Theodore Nott of all people interested in a Muggle book. You respond, “Hermione gave it to me. Why?”

“It’s hard to find Muggle books here,” he says. His eyes linger on the play. “Think I could borrow it when you’re finished?”

Your brain stalls, questions floating around your head. “Sure,” you finally answer. He nods and neither of you say anything more. The quiet that falls between you two makes you tense and you say, “Is that all, Nott?”

He considers and then says, “I think so.” He heads to the Slytherin tables without another word, sitting beside Mattheo, who’s been watching on keenly. You catch his stare and he smirks, raising a hand in a casual wave. Theodore smacks his shoulder and pulls Mattheo’s hand down. 

You sigh, shake your head in disbelief, and go back to reading the play.

It’s been a few days since your encounter with Theodore, but the interaction sticks with you. Every time you open up the play, you’re reminded of it and your curiosity returns tenfold. 

It’s odd being at school when it’s this empty. You’ve managed to occupy yourself by playing Wizard’s Chess with some fifth years, helping Professor Flitwick organize his classroom and the Frog Choir’s practice room, and working on knitting gifts to give you friends when they return. 

You’re sitting in the Gryffindor common room, working on Harry’s scarf, when you spill a cup of tea one of the house elves had made for you. Cursing, you move your knitting out of the way and survey the damage to your sweatshirt. With a groan, you gather your things and bring them to your dorm, blotting out the growing stain with water and letting it dry over the edge of the bathtub. 

You slip into a forest green sweater and throw a brown corduroy jacket over it. You grab your copy of Romeo and Juliet and head down to the Black Lake. The cold breezes nip at your cheek and carries the scent of pine trees, which you inhale gratefully. You plop yourself underneath a tree on the shore of the lake, reclining against the trunk and cracking open the book.  

You’re not even a page in when you hear a familiar voice call your name. Your hold on your book tightens but you peer up, watching Theodore approach. He’s in a dark wool overcoat and similarly dark trousers, hands tucked into his coat pockets. His strides are leisurely and long, reaching you in only a handful of steps. 

He stands tall in front of you, shadow cast long in the afternoon sun. His gaze roams over you and he says, “Isn’t wearing green considered treacherous for you?”

You’re confused for a second before you follow his line of sight and glance down at your own sweater. Right. You reply, “No more than it would be for you to wear red.”

The corner of his lip twitches up in a small, half-smile and he says, “High treason then.”

You echo your words from earlier in the week: “Can I help you, Nott?”

He ignores your question, instead choosing to tip his chin at your book. “What part are you at?”

“Mercutio’s died in his duel with Tybalt.”

He nods and recites, “‘A plague o’ both your houses. They have made worms’ meat of me: I have it, and soundly too: your houses.’”

You don’t bother to hide your surprise. “You’ve read it?”

“Haven’t most people?”

“Sure, most people know the story but they don’t usually read it. 

“I’ve read it a couple of times,” he admits. He adds, “My mother’s favorite book.”

“I see. Is that why you want to borrow it from me?”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls between the pair of you. Distantly, there’s a cry of crows. Theodore is still standing above you, gazing down, and you squirm a little. He then says, “I always liked Benvolio.”

You’re reminded that Theodore’s half-Italian in the way he says ‘Benvolio,’ accent smooth and lilting. It suddenly feels a little too warm under your coat but you ignore it. You instead blurt out, “Of course you would. You’re kind of like him.” 

Theodore raises one eyebrow and you feel your face heat even more, embarrassed, and you hope he doesn’t take it as a bad thing. He doesn’t seem offended though and asks, “Oh, how so?”

“I mean,” you say, “you are— well, you seem like the most reasonable of your friends. A mediator of some sort.” 

“That sounds about right,” he says. “You remind me of Juliet.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You’re not sure if you should take it as a good thing or not.

“Well, she has a solid set of beliefs and stands up for them. She knows herself; she tells her parents that she doesn’t want to marry Paris, not just because she’s in love with Romeo but also because she knows she’ll be unhappy. What is it she says? ‘Now, by Saint Peter’s Church, and Peter too, he shall not make me there a joyful bride! I wonder at this haste, that I must wed ere he that should be husband comes to woo.’”

Theodore’s mouth lifts in a tiny, lopsided smile again and he says, “Plus, she’s the one most of the guys fawn over, right?”

You’re left to gape at him in shock and awe, processing what he just said as he turns and walks back to the castle along the shore, just outside the gentle lapping of the water. You watch his retreating figure, watch as he grows smaller and smaller and eventually disappears. 

You don’t get much reading done, the book remaining open in your lap and your eyes fixed on the spot where Theodore once stood.

You sit there until the top curve of the sun is just peeking out over the horizon and you stand, still a tad dazed, and make your long walk back to Hogwarts. 

It’s just past one in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning fitfully. Theodore Nott and his long shadow and his blue eyes keep appearing behind your eyelids, no matter how much you try to shove the thoughts out. You want to bang your head on one of the wooden poles holding up the canopy of your four-poster bed, but you opt for sliding on your slippers and going down to the kitchens to see if the house elves have any leftover brownies from dinner. Maybe they could warm up a mug of hot cocoa for you too.

You shuffle through the hallway, the chill of the castle waking you up. You rub your hands along your arms, wishing you had worn something over your pajamas. Since it’s break, restrictions about when and where students could go are essentially non-existent. You pass Filch, who scowls at you, clearly aggrieved that he can’t punish you for being out of bed, and Nearly-Headless Nick, who greets you cheerfully and questions you as to why you’re up at such a time. “Can’t sleep,” you explain. “I’m checking if the elves have any midnight snacks for me.”

He chuckles, “An excellent reason but don’t stay up too late, or you’ll wind up like me!” He laughs hard at his joke and you can’t help but giggle, bidding him a goodnight as you descend into the basement. 

You nearly run right into Theodore as you approach the kitchens. You jump at least a foot, clasping your hands over your chest. “Merlin’s beard, you scared me!”

“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Nice pajamas.”

You forgot you were in a tank top and shorts. You cross your arms and say, “You seem awfully fixated on my clothes, Nott.” You try to look as threatening as you can but the slight tremble to your body takes away any effect.

Theodore rolls his eyes and slides the robe he donned over his striped pajamas off, holding it out to you. When you don’t take it, he just throws it over your shoulders, the weight comfortable and warm. You say, “You keep popping up out of nowhere. Are you stalking me or something?”

He snorts, “You would never know if I was. But no, Mattheo’s snoring kept me up. I figured I should take advantage of my insomnia and grab some brownies from dessert.”

“Great minds think alike then,” you say. 

You and Theodore walk down the corridor towards the kitchen when he asks, “Have you finished the book?”

“No, didn’t get a lot of reading done after you left.”

“Did I distract you that much?” He looks smug, smirking, and it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah,” he says. “When do you think you��ll finish?”

“Bloody hell, you’re impatient,” you groan, rubbing your temples. You’re not sure what possesses you, if it’s your sleep-deprived brain or something else but you suggest, “How about this? You grab brownies and cocoa for us and I’ll get the damn book and we’ll meet in the Clock Tower and read it together.”

Theodore considers it for a moment before he says, “Alright. I’ll meet you there in fifteen.”

“Perfect.” You scurry back to the Gryffindor dorms. Nearly-Headless Nick queries as to where your snacks are but you don’t answer, moving swiftly. You enter your dorm room, only pausing for a moment to catch your breath. Your heart is pounding but you can’t tell if it’s from the journey or from the thought of sitting alone in the Clock Tower with Theodore Nott. You don’t let yourself dwell on it and you pick up Romeo and Juliet and climb the stairs to the Clock Tower. 

Theodore has beaten you there, already sitting up against the glass of the clock. The frost on the glass obstructs some of the moonbeams streaming in but it’s just enough light to read. In the moonlight, Theodore’s hair looks lighter and more burnt golden than brown. He takes a sip of his cocoa and holds out a ceramic mug to you as you settle next to him. You accept it gratefully, plucking a brownie from the plate between you two. 

You flip through the play to find where you left off, the page dog-earred. Theodore makes a sound at the back of his throat. “What?”

“Don’t you have a bookmark or something?”

“No. Leave my marking choices out of it.”

He snickers and leans over you to get a better look at the text. Your shoulders brush and you’re all too aware that he smells of chocolate and sandalwood. His smell is clean and distinct; his robe smells like that too. 

As you two begin to read, Theodore tells you to turn back or move forward. You eventually figure out a rhythm, knowing exactly when to do so. You’re about ten minutes into reading when you feel Theodore’s gaze on you. You remain still, wondering if he’ll stop but when he doesn’t you mumble, “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring.” “Does it bother you?”

“It feels like you can see into my soul.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Does it bother you?”

You pause. “I don’t… I don’t know.” A beat. “Why are you?”

“Why am I what?”

“Staring at me.”

His voice drops, somehow deeper than you have ever heard it. “Because I like to.”

Your head whips to him but no words leave your mouth. He regards you carefully and asks again, “Does that bother you?”

You hesitate. Then, “No, it doesn’t.”

He hums and you think he’ll do… something but he just ducks his head back down to read and you let out of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, disappointment pooling in your stomach. You don’t know what you wanted him to do. You don’t know why you’re disappointed. 

You two read until your eyes grow heavy. You struggle to keep your lids open, head jolting up when you realize you’re drifting off. Theodore taps your shoulder and says, “We can stop here. Pick up another time.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, standing and stretching. You stifle a yawn and remember you have his robe on. You begin to take it off but he says, “Keep it. You can give it back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Same time, same place?”

“Okay.”

It doesn’t take you long to finish the play with Theodore only two days later. You noticed that Theodore read slower than before, telling you multiple times per session to go back a couple of pages. 

Your eyes follow the last line: For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo, and you close the book with a dull thump. You sit in silence with Theodore, listening to the clock hand turn to the next minute. You stay like that for a while. You sip on the spiced hot chocolate the house elves prepared for you. You share sugar cookies with Theodore that are shaped like snowflakes. 

“So,” you start, breaking the silence, “this is your mother’s favorite book?”

He nods. “I think she read it a lot when her parents arranged for her to marry my father.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, adding lamely, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Silence. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you stay here over break?”

He stiffens, expression unreadable. He glances over at you and finally sighs. “My father’s trial is happening right around now. My family doesn’t want any of the kids around this so…” He motions to the Clock Tower, adding, “My siblings are either at their own schools or with my grandmother.”

Your heart aches at the frown on his face and you bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to proceed. You’re thankful when Theodore moves on. “What about you?”

“Oh, my parents are on a sight-seeing cruise so they’re not home. I got a postcard today, though, they’re in Japan now.”

“I’ve never been. How’s it look?”

“Pretty. They said their tour guide told them the best time to come is when the cherry blossoms bloom. I would like to go.”

“We’ll go together then.” 

He says it with a finality that makes you shy. “When?” is all you can ask. 

“Someday.”

You haven’t seen Theodore in a couple of days, an odd thing to try and get used to when you’ve just adjusted to him popping up wherever you are. You assume that he’s done with you now that you finished Romeo and Juliet. 

It all makes your heart sink.

You’re alone in the common room, wrapping up your gifts for your friends. You stack Harry’s scarf on top of Hermione’s mittens, Ron’s socks, and Ginny’s hat, and you lean against the couch with a huff. 

You think about the spare red yarn sitting in your room. You think there’s just enough to make another scarf. 

Theodore’s face flashes in your mind’s eye and you run a hand down your face in frustration. Whatever weird thing you had with Theodore is over. He’s probably out with Mattheo at the Three Broomsticks or something. You’ve seen them there before along with Enzo, Blaise, Draco, and Pansy as well as just with each other, usually flirting with girls there.

You didn’t used to think much of it — just scoffed along with Ron and Hermione — but now the thought makes your stomach churn. 

You think about the extra yarn in your room again and you almost can’t believe that, despite his disappearing act, you’ve decided you’ll knit a scarf for Theodore Nott.

Almost.

You’re greeted with a delicious Sunday roast for dinner on Christmas Eve: tender roasted beef, warm Yorkshire puddings, fluffy mashed potatoes, and a side of jus from the beef. You sit by yourself once again, the loneliness threatening to swallow you whole as you plate your dinner. 

Theodore seats himself right across from you and places a parcel wrapped in brown paper in front of you. You look at it in confusion and he says, “Open it.”

“What is it?”

“Christmas present.”

You raise a brow. “You got me a present?”

“Yes, now open it.”

“Shouldn’t I wait until tom—” The sharp look he gives you makes you set your fork aside and tug on the string of the bow. There are two books inside. The first is a copy of Shakespeare’s Macbeth, similarly leather-bound like Romeo and Juliet, and the second one is an ornately-decorated collector’s edition of Romeo and Juliet. 

Your jaw falls open and you whisper, “Theodore…”

He says, “Figured that we can read Macbeth together. It’s a personal favorite of mine.”

Your fingers trace the golden embossment of Romeo and Juliet, swooping down to follow the curve of the ‘J.’ “Where did you even get this?”

“Sent a lot of letters and had Mattheo help me pull strings at Flourish and Blotts.”

Your face is on fire but you grin at Theodore and say, “Thank you so much.”

“Happy Christmas,” he says and you catch the pink at the tips of his ears.

“I actually have something for you too,” you say and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I’ll get it to you after dinner.”

“I’ll come with,” he says and you nod. You wonder if he’ll get up but he stays put, taking a plate and serving himself dinner. 

You two talk quietly in between bites and something dawns on you halfway through. “Where’s Mattheo?” You look over your shoulder and can’t find the other Slytherin boy.

Theodore smirks. “Might’ve slipped him a couple of galleons to leave us alone.” Your cheeks heat pleasantly. 

You two finish dinner after that and Theodore walks you to the Fat Lady’s portrait. She eyes him suspiciously, glaring at you. “You know students from other Houses aren’t permitted in the Gryffindor dorm.”

You disregard her and give her the password. Begrudgingly and with one last glower at you and Theodore, the portrait swings open and you step inside. Theodore peers around the common room and says, “Never been in here before.”

“Some Gryffindor girl hasn’t taken you back with her?” you ask but you instantly regret your teasing words. The thought of Theodore with someone else (Lavender Brown comes to mind and you scowl internally) makes you queasy.

“Can’t say that it’s happened,” he says, shooting you a cocky smirk. “You’d be the first.”

“I’m honored. Wait right here.”

Theodore flops on the couch and sighs in satisfaction. “So much more comfortable than Slytherin’s.”

“Yeah?” you ask as you retreat up the stairs. He shouts after you that Slytherin’s couches, while not wholly terrible, are stiff whereas your common room’s are plush and cushy.

Theodore’s scarf, knit in a red cashmere, lays innocuously on your bed. You’re abruptly self-conscious of it; Theodore got you two beautiful and likely expensive books and you knit him a measly scarf in colors that aren’t his House’s. 

Merlin, you think, what if he hates it?  Only one way to find out, you suppose. With a deep breath, you pick it up and hide it behind your back. You peek into the common room, where Theodore lounges on the couch, his figure long and relaxed. His shirt has ridden up a little and you spy a sliver of the toned muscle of his stomach. 

“Close your eyes,” you say. You watch his eyes shut, unfairly long lashes brushing his cheekbone. You creep into the room, halting in front of him. The flames dancing in the fireplace are the only excuse you can come up with for why you’re so warm. “Hold out your hands.”

He sits up straight and does as he’s told. You say, “It’s not wrapped.”

“That’s alright.”

You inhale, exhale, and gingerly place the scarf in his hands. He opens his eyes and inspects the scarf, rubbing the knit yarn in between his fingers. You hold your breath.

His face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him. He looks—

He looks beautiful. He’s always handsome, yes, but he’s beautiful here.

“This is really nice. You make it yourself?”

You hum in affirmation and he loops it around his neck, standing and spinning around playfully. “How do I look?”

“I think red’s definitely your color,” you tell him, your own cheeks hurting from how widely you’re beaming. 

Theodore takes a step closer, his shoes nearly knocking into yours. The glee in his expression morphs slowly into something different. It’s not anything bad, but it’s somehow more intense and softer than before. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome. Thank you again for the books.”

“You’re welcome.”

The fireplace crackles, embers spitting.

You’re not sure who moves first. Your mouths crash against each other like waves against a bluff, all lips and teeth and tongue. Your hands are everywhere, in his hair, clutching his shoulders, cupping his face. His hands are just as frantic, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing you tight against him. 

You two come up for air but you don’t surface for long. Despite the way he’s worked up, he’s careful in unwinding the scarf from his neck and draping it over a nearby arm chair. Then, he’s on you again, pulling you flush against him. 

He guides you to his lap as he sits back on the couch, lips never leaving yours. You straddle his thighs, tugging lighty at his curls. He moans into your mouth. Your hips move against his. His fingers, long and cold, creep under your shirt and send a shiver down your spine. 

His mouth only leaves yours to latch onto your neck, sucking and licking and nipping. You whine and push yourself against him harder, your hands clumsily trying to undo the buttons of his shirt. He helps you, flinging it off his shoulders, and pulling your own off your torso. 

“Fuck,” he groans, chest heaving as he takes in the view of you. He’s staring at you like you’re some sort of goddess. “Fuck, you’re beautiful, amorina.”

You melt under his gaze. His ocean blue eyes are a little glazed and his mouth is kiss-swollen and ajar. Godric, he’s one to talk. You lean in closer, tracing his jaw and letting your hand trail down his neck, his chest, down to his stomach. You graze the top of his trousers and lightly scrap your nails over the skin just above. He hisses, hips bucking, and before you can say anything to him, he’s yanking you down for a kiss. 

It’s slower, no less passionate but less frenzied, and you only break apart to whisper, “Bedroom, Nott.” 

He doesn’t say another word, springing from the couch, grabbing the scarf you made him, and dragging you up to your dorm. As soon as he’s inside, he sets the scarf on your bedside table and pushes you down onto the mattress, climbing on after you. 

You squeal as he peppers kisses along your neck. “Theo,” he murmurs against the skin of your collarbone. “Call me Theo.”

“Okay,” you say, testing it out. “Theo.” His hips slot against yours once more and you cant your up. He slips a hand down your pants and when he presses his palm against you, you whine, “Theo!”

Another rumbling moan, “Amorina, you don’t know what you do to me.” Another long, hard kiss. Your hands move to unbutton his trousers. 

You don’t care how sweaty and sticky you are as you lay panting against Theo’s chest, feeling the way it rises and falls in rapid succession. You listen to his racing heartbeat and he places a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

As you two catch your breath, Theo says, “I think Juliet should have gone with Benvolio.”

You look at him like he’s crazy. “That’s really what you’re thinking about?”

He winks at you. “Of course not. I’ve been thinking about it since we finished the book.”

You slap his chest playfully and ask the obvious question: “Why do you think so?” 

“Well, you said I’m like Benvolio and I told you you remind me of Juliet.”

“Huh?” You think for a couple of seconds and then it clicks. “Oh!” You take in Theo’s half-lidded eyes staring at you. “Oh…” 

He dips down to kiss you again.

Over the break, you’ve expanded on what you know about Theodore Nott. One, he’s quiet because he’s thoughtful, always observing, always analyzing, and storing away information for whatever purpose he’d like to use it for. 

Two, he’s whip-sharp — you see it in the way he can quote Shakespeare plays like second-nature; in how he easily banters with you, always coming back with a swift reply and a cheeky smile. 

Lastly, he’s unbelievably handsome. You knew this before but it’s different now. You admire the way he holds himself with an unflagging confidence, how he has these rare full-bellied laughs that make you crave the sound. But you think he’s most handsome when you sit together, cloistered away in the Clock Tower, reading Romeo and Juliet and now Macbeth together. You’re so close, you can smell the peppermint on his breath from the candy canes the house elves snuck you. You can see all the shades of blue in his eyes. You can count the beauty marks on his face. 

This close, you can lean over and kiss him and delight in the way your heart thrums when he reciprocates, cradling your face and coaxing you into him. 

You spend the majority of the rest of the break wrapped up in Theo’s arms. By the last day, you’re sure you have snuck each other into your dorms more times than either of you can count. You hang out a few times with Mattheo, who turns out to be not as bad as your friends make him out to be. He’s sharp and quick-witted like Theo with a tendency towards the dramatics that makes you laugh. 

You’re sitting at the same spot underneath the tree at the Black Lake, Theo relaxing between your legs. He’s swaddled in the same black overcoat you saw him in before, only this time, the red scarf you knit is starkly bright against the coat. You card your fingers through his soft curls, ducking to peck his forehead. He tilts his head upwards and smiles boyishly at you and it makes you giggle, planting a kiss on his mouth. He brings your hand down to his lips, kissing each fingertip.

You relish the quiet with him, knowing that tomorrow will be a flurry of activity with students and faculty returning from winter holiday. It makes you sigh, the thought of leaving the little world you and Theo have created. Your relationship is only a couple of days old and you can’t deny that you’re anxious about your friends coming back. 

As if sensing your nervousness, Theo sits up and spins around to face you. You attempt to plaster on a reassuring smile but it’s wobbly and uneasy. He cradles your face with one hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “What’s wrong, cara mia?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble. He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow with an expression that tells you he knows you’re lying. “What are we going to do when everyone comes back?”

“What do you mean?”

“Theo, our friends all despise each other.”

He replies, “So? Just because they don’t like each other doesn’t mean we can’t.” He kisses the back of your hand. “And I happen to like you very much.”

You smile weakly at him. “I know, and I like you very much as well. It’s just…” You can picture the dawning horror on Ron’s face and the grimaces on Hermione and Harry’s. 

Theo’s mouth turns downward and he asks, “Why do you care what they think?”

“Don’t you care what your friends think?”

“No,” he says firmly, adding, “Plus, Mattheo likes you so who’s to say everyone else won’t?”

“Theo…”

He repeats, “Why do you care?”

“I just don’t want anything to ruin this, ruin us.”

“They can only ruin it if we let them and we won’t.”

“You don’t know that for sure! We’re still in the early stages of our relationship.”

“Do you not have faith that we’ll stay together?” he asks.

“I do! It’s—” You sigh in frustration, brow furrowed. “I just want to preserve what we have without outside influence. Please, can we just wait a little to tell everyone?”

You wish you didn’t see the way Theo’s expression falters, hurt passing across briefly before he wipes it away.  He’s studying your face, eyes dark and unreadable but he nods. “Fine. But you have to promise me that it’s just for a little while.”

“I promise.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Mattheo not to open his big mouth.”

“Thank you, Theo,” you say. This time, you reach for his hand and peck his knuckles. His shoulders lose their tension and he bends towards you, mouth ghosting against your neck. You squeal and giggle and you feel him smile against your skin.

author's note: at long last, the theo nott fic i teased months ago... this fic was supposed to be a lot longer but i when i went back to college and hit a major writer's block, it just languished. i'm proud of what i've written, which is why i want to post it, but please excuse the kind of abrupt end. there is a potential continuation in the future <3

[seriallover]

Shatabhisha- Stuck in a loop!?⭕️

Ruled by Rahu and situated in a sign governed by Saturn, Shatabhisha Nakshatra intertwines the themes of Rahu and Saturn.

Rahu represents obsession, addiction, perfectionism, illusion, desires, and the material world. Saturn, on the other hand, symbolizes restriction, ambition, delays, and discipline. This nakshatra is intriguing to observe because Saturn is often seen as the only planet capable of controlling and restricting Rahu. Addiction is a recurring theme for those heavily influenced by Shatabhisha Nakshatra.

Rahu, symbolizing the insatiable head/mouth, constantly seeks satisfaction. People with strong Shatabhisha influence may struggle with feeling perpetually unfulfilled.

The main symbol of Shatabhisha is an empty closed circle, representing restriction, karma, and limits. ⭕️

This reminds me of a snake eating its own tail, a metaphor for self-destruction often seen in these natives. They may feel stuck in a loop, constantly desiring more than they have, feel, or can access. This symbol illustrates their urge to break free from patterns and limitations.

Shatabhisha also embodies the power to heal, represented by the 100 physicians and healers. Individuals influenced by this nakshatra often have a strong desire for self-improvement, healing, and spiritual growth. They are driven to push boundaries and explore their limits, often oscillating between extremes—addiction to unhealthy behaviors or a "perfect" lifestyle.

Lewis Hamilton is an excellent example of someone who effectively harnesses the energy of Shatabisha. His ascendant lord, Venus, is in Shatabhisha, conjunct his Mars in the 5th house. His Rahu is in Krittika of Taurus, with Venus as the dispositor. Lewis follows a plant-based diet and is very strict with his fitness regimen, as even a small weight gain can affect his racing performance.

This year, he launched a non-alcoholic Blue Agave Spirit, Almave, produced in Mexico.🥃

Krittika, associated with the deity Agni, the god of fire, governs cooking, drinks, and digestion. Agni has the power to burn/purify, reflecting his disciplined approach to diet and lifestyle.🔥

Another example, she’s Shatabhisha Moon.

Another example that comes to mind is Emily Blunt, who has her Sun in Shatabhisha, fittingly playing a role in “Edge of Tomorrow” that mirrors the themes of this nakshatra, as well.

In the film, her character, Sergeant Rita Vrataski, helps Major William Cage (Tom Cruise) break free from a time loop by repeatedly facing and overcoming challenges. Rita’s journey in the movie reflects the Shatabhisha themes of perseverance, healing and ultimately, breaking the cycle to achieve a greater purpose.

Dealing with Rahu's influence can lead to excess, a desire to experience, feel everything or nothing.

However, understanding one's restrictions and seeing the bigger picture can bring freedom. Recognizing and accepting personal limitations allows one to channel obsessive desires into sustaining something meaningful in the material world.

By acknowledging and respecting these restrictions, individuals can transform Rahu's chaotic energy into focused ambition and disciplined action, leading to significant achievements and personal growth.

[pascals-doll]

AGORA HILLS

ellie williams x reader

『••✎••』 after your date turns into a night of hell, love is there to show you how sweet life is about to get. | 7.9K

ೀ THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE

ೀ SERIES MASTERLIST | CH.3

ೀ i wanna say a biggg thank you to bookie @openupforme for encouraging me to whip up the scene where ellie tries readers ethnic food and also being the sweetest 🥹 love u bb!

ೀ description: MODERN AU! VIOLENCE! ANGST! DESCRIPTIVE MENTION OF BLOOD L/FIGHTING! MAJOR FLUFF !!! FLUFF, MILD ANGST, latina!reader, mentions of smoking weed and drinking, mentions of Joel throughout, ellie learning spanish!!! (i lowk had too much fun this), kissing/makeouts, ellie and jesse indulge in reader and Dina’s ethnic food, mention of y/n (___).

CHAPTER FOUR

❝ i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke ❞

❝ what the fuck did you say? ❞

Ellie’s voice rang through your shut-out ears inaudiblely.

it felt like the entire world just stopped moving, your hearing becoming obstructed by ringing, muffling any sound or voice as your mind completely shut down.

you felt your entire system almost reset with pure rage, absolutely loosing it.

your mind might’ve shut down but your body senses didn’t fail you as the only thing that continue to ring through your mind was each word that left that man’s mouth.

your brain pounding with the words.

❝ i wonder— ❞

❝ how he would feel if he knew—❞

❝ if he knew his girl was—❞

for you, it was all unraveling in slow motion as your minds clouded your conclusion thinking.

for Ellie, she was ready to punch the man, speaking up “what the fuck did you just say?” but within the blink of her own eyes, you had already charged at the man.

your vision was vermillion, blinded by rage.

your body was auto-response, having a mind of its own. your manicured nails dug into the skin of his flesh as your hands clawed onto him after charging at him.

your first punch was sloppy and impactful, the adrenaline was enough to numb the painful sensation that would bring you hell later, your manicure scratching his face.

your knee dug into his rib-cage as you were onto of him, each one of your hands landing their very own ablaze blows to his head and face. you didn’t care to check if you had broken a nail or for anything in that matter.

your only focus was him like your own mental target as he was clearer than day, now under you while his hands struggle to force away your own. your anger gave you enough adrenaline to strengthen yourself; overpowering his attempts of trying to roll you under him.

you had finally recognized the motherfucker.

it was your ex’s ex-coworker from his old job, he had met you a couple times when you and your ex-boyfriend would hang out with his old group of work friends.

if it wasn’t for his stupid name-tag, you wouldn’t of even remembered that the prick’s name was Cameron.

yeah, that name definitely rang a bell.

the only reaction to your own proper thought was your impact against his face plaguing him more than before, your furry only festering more.

all you could think about was your ex.

he cheats on you and then he goes around telling his friends, what? come after you for leaving his ass? like they had the goddamn right?

your mind was in a tormental frenzy, one frantic thought being replaced with another, now all you could hear was his words again.

❝ how he would feel if he knew—❞

❝ he—he—he—he ❞

each mental repeat was violent scratching hit to his face.

Ellie just stood there, awe-struck because of how quick everything emersed into a violent situation. she was ready to charge at the man, but she wanted to talk her shit first.

she was a shit talker as much as she was a fighter.

but you? there was no words, just raging punches.

you were sure your fists were red, cut up, and sore; possibly even fractured but you couldn’t see with the hair in your hair and your body thrashed against his hands that tried to grab a hold of you aggressively.

you could hear mumurs and gasps from people, heavy footsteps of the restaurant staff buzzing around you as his hands punctured a squeeze into your arms your hand managed to pick his head and throw against the restaurant floor.

your throat gutted out a shriek of anger, suddenly being pulled off by random hands off the now, bloody bruised man.

the second ellie heard you scream, she was pulled out of her struck-stuck trance, immediately running to the staff member that was able to pull you off of Cameron.

“don’t you fucking touch her!”

ellie yell echoes through the restaurant, another staff member running up infront of ellie “If you get involved, we will be pressing charges!” the random restaurant staff member warns ellie.

she shrugs off the staff members hands off of her before running over to you as you were yelling for the random staff member to let go of you, trying to wriggle yourself out of their embrace.

“you need both need to leave this establishment now!” another staff member yelled at the both of you as Ellie reaches out to grab you, the staff member letting go of the tight hold they had on you to release you towards Ellie.

you’re body was shaking with violent thrill, laughing almost manically. “you need to check the people you fuckin’ let work here!” you spat back loudly, you look around at the crowd of other restaurants guests began to form around the entry room.

“FOR EVERYONE’S INFORMATION, I JUST BEAT CAMERON’S ASS WHOM YOU MAY NOT KNOW BUT IS THE TRASHY WAITER THAT YOU DON’T CARE TO TIP CAUSE HE LOOKS AND IS BUILT LIKE AN ASSHOLE”

you didn’t care that you looked crazy making the announcement as you squirmed in Ellie’s hold, flanting your blood-covered arms around with each yell and your dress also slightly being covered in someone’s blood; not caring if it was yours or his.

“____, your arm!” Ellie said, immediately reaching out to hold it.

you adverted your gaze from the crowd, who know looked at the man who had now stood up from the floor; surrounded by the staff as the crowd whispered to each other.

he broke through the flesh of your arm when he squeezed you, slightly dry, yet oozy blood beading down your arm.

“leave now before we call the police!” the staff warn once more.

you heard ellie softly reassure in your ear. you leaned into her as her back against the front door.

but you had one thing to say before you left.

“go ahead and tell him, then tell him i said, ‘i fuckin’ dare him to show up to my work again. he will end up alot worse than you’—” you began as your eyes burned into his fucked-up face.

you didn’t care if anyone was looking nor caring for anyone else; making sure he picked up on every single word you said.

“tell him—its not a threat, its a promise fuckin’ marícon!”

just like that, Ellie’s back pushed against the front door.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

what a great way to end the fucking night.

you both walked across the bumpy asphalt pavement of the parking lot. the cold breeze finally stinging your wounds, you couldnt help but let out a loud wince.

youre entire body felt on fire, mental completely overwhelmed by all types of emotions.

you were shaking with leftover furry, you wanted to cry your eyes out, you felt embarrassed, and most of all, you were scared.

you weren’t scared of what just happened or what your ex wanted from you. you were scared of how ellie might see you; you were scared of the questions she might ask.

your body was worn out, your legs wobbly as they ached from all the thrashing around. you guys walked closer to her car but eventually your legs gave out.

you slipped onto the floor, tripping over nothing but the own pain inflamed in your ankles and knees.

that was all it took for you to breakdown.

“hey hey, we’re almost there—talk to me.” ellie catches you almost immediately.

she laid you softly onto the dirty rocky pavement alongside you, resting half of you ontop of her. she couldn’t of cared less about the dirty floor, frankly caring to have you lay on her instead of the dirty public pavement.

she lulled you and hummed against your ear as you sobbed uncontrollably in her arms, no thoughts just tears. “c’mon baby, we’re almost there and everything will be okay” her whispers sounded like angels talking as she covered your shaking body with her arms.

you gasped out through choked sobs “i—can’t—go home like this!” you cried out, you can’t imagine what you would have to tell your parents; with them having to see you bloody with bruises.

Ellie mustered up her strength to pick you up from ontop of her, her hands strongly holding you up by your waist; hauling your body softly “s’okay, its all okay—i can talk to Joel—shit! lets cross everything off tonight!” she jokes light-heartedly, trying to ease up the overwhelmed tension inside you.

it works, of course it works.

she knew how to make you laugh, you couldn’t breathe almost from how much you laughed earlier during dinner. you couldn’t help but let a teary smile tug your flushed face as you looked into Ellie’s eyes, giving her small meek chuckle.

her heart shattered just seeing you cry, she takes one of the hand that was around your waist tightly; once you reached the doors of her car, she took your face and wiped the tears that dripped down your cheeks.

Ellie felt a hulking weight on her shoulders seeing you breakdown the way you did, she could care less about the ravenous rage she just seen you go through. she cared more about the fragile woman she had in her arms.

this was completely different, this moment exposed your vulnerability; not only yours, but Ellie’s aswell, to each other.

this whole situation completely contrasted the side you showed to everyone, the side Ellie was used too. the woman who walks into any room with her head held high, challenging, and ready to take on anything with your fierce self.

“I really really dont want to meet your dad covered in blood and bleeding” your tone was no longer shaky or croaked, still keeping its sensitive tone as you spoke back light-heartedly.

ellie knew you were serious through your playful tone. she gave you a soft smile as she opened the car door for you, even helping your aching body get in carefully.

once you were both in the car and settled, you calmed down more; even quicker than you thought with the help of Ellie’s embrace and reassurance.

“can you take me to Dina’s—you can come, but i understand if after tonight—” once you began to speak, you were cut off by ellie immediately.

“no, i don’t care to hear what leaves your mouth—it ain’t true, pretty. wherever you go, im going.” ellie poured out, looking into both of your eyes like she was searching in them.

“if that’s okay with you” she finishes, her eyes glistened softly as her eyes loved on you.

you could almost start crying again. well, you did.

“put dina on the phone—let’s call it night, alright?” she wiped each singular tear that dropped from each of your eyes, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie helped you up the apartment hallway stairs, helped you all the way towards the elevator till you were at Dina’s front door; even holding you up as you jingled the keys into the lock.

this was a definitely story-time.

you unlock the door, hand turning the knob as you let yourselves in; almost immediately you hear your name being called out by Dina through her apartment.

you were greeted by your bestfriend who ran up to you, engulfing you. you rocked back slightly, catching yourself on your feet at the impact of her hug.

“are you okay? what the fuck happened?” Dina’s rushes out, anxiety evident in her voice.

“Jesse?” you heard Ellie call out as your eyes examined the room, falling onto the man who was sat on the couch.

“i was here when Dina got the call…you good?”

it was endearing watching them, the way he picked up on how ellie didn’t even want to speak, just leaning into his side for a hug.

you let out a sigh, your arms grew weak as they loosen trying to embrace her. Dina held your body as she motioned for you to step out of your shoes.

your legs wobbled out with each little movement.

“hey jesse—sorry i look like a crime scene.” you joke out which he just gave a slight smile too “you look bad-ass.” he chuckles causing you to giggle, finally stepping your bare-feet onto dina’s wooden floor.

“you gonna be okay, ___?” jesse was concerned just as much through his wittiness. you give him a confident smile and nod, not wanting to let up your vulnerability again.

“im gonna get her cleaned up, ellie would you like a change of clothes?” Dina lets them know, wrapping her arm around you to hold you up, leaning herself into your semi-limp body to help you step.

“i’d appreciate it Dina, thank you!—also i hate to fucking ask but i need a smo—”

“Bong’s on the kitchen table, Jesse has the pack.” Dina smiles out before helping you down her apartment hallway into her bathroom.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

“remember Cameron?” you nettled out, breaking the silence between the two of you as Dina bathed you.

“that one guy you tried to get me to go on a double date on with you and your ex?”

“yeah, him—he works at the restaurant we went to eat at.”

“jesus christ—” you cut her off.

“he recognized me the second he got to our table Deens—he was giving me this fucking look.”

“what the fuck did he say?”

“he didn’t say anything at first—as we were walking out of the restroom—”

“i thought you guys were eating, why were you both in the—”

“Deens, let me fucking finish!” you whine out as she continues to scrub down your naked body with the personal loufa you leave for when you sleepover; washing away the blood into the water down into the bath-drain.

“sorry sorry—im listening.” she gets up momentarily to open one of her bathroom cabinets.

“we were about to literally leave, Dina—so close through those fuckin’ doors—he goes ‘i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke’ i just lost it.”

“wait, ‘he’ as in….” Dina began to trail off.

“yes!—hearing ese’pendejo mention him—then that fucking word.” you grumbled out, feeling angry again.

Dina came back with hydrogen peroxide, rubbing alcohol, and a couple healing ointments along with the cotton pads to tend to your wounds.

Dina had already got done helping you finish washing up in the bathtub, the hot water was still running to keep your tense muscles from aching continuously.

your knees were a bit scraped up, slight yellow tint underlying in your skin;you knew you would wake up with those to be purple the next day.

Dina picked up one of your arms first, later on tending to the other.

“he did this?”

she looked at each puncture in your skin, a crease-cutting through indents of each five nails digging into each of your arms.

you scoff. “Si no lo hubiera hecho en su lugar de trabajo, me estarías rescatando de la cárcel ahora mismo.” (if he didn’t do it at his workplace, you would be bailing me out right this moment.)

you weren’t kidding. Dina knew you weren’t, even with the slight giggles you both let out to lighten the mood as she tended to all your wounds precisely. she finished up by aiding each arm, wrapping around a white gauze around before putting her fluffy robe on you.

you both made it back to your room for you to change into comfortable clothes and pick out some of your clothing for ellie to wear.

the midnight definitely made up for the encounter you and ellie had to go through earlier. the four of you spent the night passing the bong around, you and ellie specifically getting so high out your asses.

you were all indulging in the sweet playful haze the terpenes fogged inside your bodies. nothing was serious, popping jokes left and right; shit, even the whole shitty was situation turned into a meer joke with the four of you.

“anything is fighting attire for this one!” Dina laughs out pointing at you, coughing out the smoke after.

“eesh! i believe it—you should’ve seen—she looked like a cheetah pouncing with that dress on!” ellie chuckles out, following Dina’s joke as her high low-eyes rake through you.

“idiotás…” you laugh out as you pass the bong to Jesse.

“hey! i’m not the one callin’ you ‘national geographic’—what does that even mean?” Jesse retorts playfully before hitting the bong.

“bro just add the ‘ass’ to idiot” Ellie makes fun of Jesse playfully while completely butchering the spanish syllable.

“oh ellie, stop talking!—your first spanish lesson will be with ___ tomorrow.” Dina teases.

you all soaked in the Dina’s living room full of marijuana smoke until the high laughter shared between all of you would take you all out into a slumber. it was later than 3 am by the time you all knocked out.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

it was the next morning, probably the best morning’s you’ve ever had even with the excruciating pain you woke up with.

you woke up entangled in ellie’s arms, you both fell asleep on Dina’a couch while Jesse and Dina slept in her bedroom.

you fluttered your eyes open, head on her chest while each one of her arms was wrapped around you almost protectively. you could hear each beat of her heart as her chest heaved softly, mumuring in a pattern underneath the side of your head.

the feeling of her heartbeat was like listening to the pleasing sound of rain tricking against a window; bringing the same bliss, maybe even more as listening to her heartbeat lulled you in and out of sleep.

‘esto tiene que ser como se siente el paraíso.’ (this must be what heaven feels like)

ellie had her hands loomed into and through the texture of your hair, holding the back-side of your head slightly; cradling your head almost.

the atmosphere was incensed by the mixture of body-heat you shared through each others bodies. the warm felt like something stronger than a blanket.

the sun-ray shines through Dina’s tall curtains that covered her wide-spread windows, enhancing the two of you under nature’s glow.

you took in the way her fair skin contrasted your bronze one beautifully, the way her tattoos illuminated, especially the tattoo of her fern and moth; you admired all her small other tattoos.

she had a a cursive J on her other wrist, Joel’s initial.

on the same arm, on her arm cephalic she had a line that was a thin as a guitar string. you observed the small prominent ink and the way it wrapped around her arm.

ellie’s tattoos were simple but you knew they were symbolic in some way which made her tattoos completely beautiful to you. unknowningly, your hands had been caressing the soft skin of her arms as you traced over her tattoos; getting lost in her shut eyes.

“buenos días” you could hear ellie’s morning voice, her thick rasp as she grumbled out.

your eyes widen slightly taken aback, you were hoping she hadn’t sensed you staring. you dipped your face into the crevess between eachother’s arms; slightly embarrassed.

“mírala, primera día conmigo y ya sabes.” (look at her, first day with me and you already know.) you played with her as you hid your face away.

“hold on hold on, don’t get too confident in me now.” ellie retorts quickly, her eyes completely widen out of groggy slumber at the smooth quick pace of your accent; almost not catching onto any of the foreign words.

you let out a bit of louder laugh, god, she could even wake you up with a laugh.

“buenos días, bombón” the tension was like dripping sugary corn syrup, the most honeyed atmosphere you had ever been engulfed with and exposed too.

there was no way you could ever compare your ex to ellie. not in one singular way could the love you were feeling for ellie ever be compared to the love you have felt.

“should’ve payed more attention to spanish in highschool and Joel’s tutoring.” you tease her with a smile at the mention, how she miserably failed all four years of spanish even with Joel’s basic—practically ‘personal google-translate’ help.

Ellie grabs the pillow she was laying her head on to playfully hit you with it. your arm reflexes and reaches out your hand, just in time to stop the pillow from hitting your side. you both burst into a fit of giggles as you begin a soft playful morning tussle.

you grab ahold of the pillow that ellie tries to push closer to you with her hands, you eventually find the perfect moment to slip it out of her tight grip and throwing it across the room; taking one leg and hoisting it on her hip as you both laid on your sides.

Ellie rolled you over, trying to tip you onto Dina’s huge black furry carpet. you immediately caught yourself on the rest of couch arm-rest, leaving you on top of her, each leg bent to each of her sides.

this position was compromising in someway, you felt more connected to her like this. the smiles from your faces didn’t falter for second, but only shifted into admiration.

you both admired eachother, both of your eyes holding overflowing adoration. your essences soak into each other as ellie traces your tattoos. she replicated the treatment you were showing her from earlier as you studied the shape of her lips, how long her lashes were, and the way her hair fell down; few strands falling onto her face.

you were so used to seeing her with her hair up, she mentioned to you how it was just more comfortable for her, how she grew to enjoy the feeling of the breeze of her neck. maybe it wasn’t a big deal, but it was for you.

in some way you felt this as a way of ellie’s vulnerability, dropping her guard and allowing you to see her with such intimacy and in ways you had never seen her before,—you knew this was different for her too.

that was the thing with her, your thoughts to yourself continue as you lean closer into her, chests pressing together; aligning heartbeats as you got lost in a strong energetic haze.

the scene was ethereal.

the sun glowing trancing your deep embrace, silhouetting your skin-to-skin held contact onto the shined-on carpet covered floor. the way your head laid ontop of Ellies as her own dipped into the clavicle of your shoulder, her deep breathing feathering your collarbone and tickling you.

eventually your heads meet, foreheads touching as your eyes poured into each other. you watched the way Ellie’s eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, then repeating. it seemed like an all natural action when your lips met.

the kiss was so gentle and soft, yet overfilled with so much. your lips tingled against the warm feeling of Ellie’s tongue swiping over your bottom lip, wanting more of your lips.

there wasn’t a single worry between the two of you. you brought your gauzed up hand to caress her cheek which she softly grabbed your wrist, departing from the kiss you shared to peck your bandaged bruised knuckles.

“i’m sorry about—”

”don’t you ever apologize for something you don’t have too.” Ellie told you sincerely, cutting you off.

“but you don’t understand—” you continued to push.

“ill understand with you, and if i don’t. you will teach me.”

Ellie didn’t even want you trying to protest once more, pulling you back into her lips softly. your lips continuing moving in a plush motion.

your hands found their way to her hair, entangling them through her smooth straight locks, massaging your fingertips into her scalp. you hummed contently into the savorful kiss that you shared; your mind wanting more, craving and needing more.

it felt like each wet passionate lock between each other was an eternity of bliss.

Ellie’s hands caress up and through your back, her fingers tracing your spine before resting them onto the dip of your hips.

“lesbians are making on my couch—okay! going back inside my room!” Dina calls out before quickly retreating into her own bedroom.

you both whipped your heads around, breaking your kiss instantly; just to catch the door closing shut.

you both fell into a fit of giggles as each other’s doed out eyes soaked into the morning aroma together.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the way the four of you spent the day together.

you all started off the day by settling to go to the classic old diner down the road for a good breakfast. it was 10:20 AM by the time you guys were smoking out of your purple ‘alien-looking’ pipe, as described by Ellie, herself.

maybe it was this morning, maybe last night.

it has now more than ever became clear to you exactly how Ellie had you feeling, being more handsy on both ends. you couldn’t help but feel as your skin was burning, if her hands weren’t there to cool you down.

definitely now more than ever, it was crystal clear.

“uhm, earth to the both of you!” Dina clears her throat, calling out loudly to the both of your attention.

a moment ago, your legs were on ellies lap as her hands caressed all up and down your exposed legs due to you wear some simple shorts. it wouldn’t be believable but you didn’t understand how quickly just a couple loveable leg rubs led to a mini make-out sesh behind Dina and Jesse in the passenger seat.

you both jumped away from each other, as if you had both been pulled into a trance as you both blinked away at your friends reactions.

“lets go before y’all eat each other for breakfast.” Jesse jokes out as he opens his passenger door causing a heat to rush onto ellie’s cheeks shut up—you kept us up all night.—ellie’s smart and quick to remark teasingly.

once finally seated into the cute diner, very vintage americana looking diner. the four of you were all seated into a red-seats booth that had a table with fake cherries for table decor.

you scanned the menu below, taking in all the options of different breakfast entrees; the variety of omelettes, sandwiches, toasts, and pancakes. you settled on frosted fluffy strawberry french toast while you ordered coffee.

“jeez, you and Joel—coffee lovers, bleh!” ellie grimaced in fake disgust and disbelief, making a forced disgusted noise after ordering herself.

“why thank you, Joel and I have taste.” you sarcasm out, giggling slightly. Ellie just admired the way your smile tugged your cheeks and creased your eyes joyfully.

Ellie matched your small chuckle as you spoke up. “we will mock your hate over our hot cup of coffee!” you lean in, bringing your pointer finger to poke at her dimpled cheek which she reactively crinkle her nose.

everyone finished ordering their choice of meals, indulging in humorous banter all together. you learned about how about ellie’s summer this one time Joel had a fling with this sweet mexican woman he completely fell infatuated with, how it was probably the best summer of her life due to the countless of grill-outs they both loved to have.

“oh so, your thing for latinas runs in the family?” you quirk causing Jesse to let out a holler as Dina snorts out, using her hand to cover her mouth.

“uh—what—how did you even come up with that?” Ellie stumbles over her word.

“nah yeah, it definitely run in the family.” Jesse chimes in with a smirk causing you to clap and laugh out just more.

“the both of you don’t have a single fuckin’ idea on what your on about!” Ellie retorts, for some reason, her cheeks rushing fusion.

as you were about to speak up, the waitress came with each one of your plates. you all ate silently, yet peacefully and happily. the silence connecting you all more if anything.

one hand held your dullish knife as your other hand held your fork; you held your toast down with your fork as your cut off a piece off your toast, gathering the maple syrup along with the topped frosted butter. you let out a moan of content as the sweet combination hit your tastebuds as your eyes widen in pure foodie-bliss.

the scene of you trying a delicious meal, savoring it too was possibly the most adorable and gorgeous thing you’ve done in the past month you spent with her, exploring eachother. you took a few more bites before your little amused grin while you swallowed your bites of food turned your grin into a smile as you began to cut another piece of your toast. you repeat the same steps before asking, well not really.

you held the fork up as you hummed loudly and excitedly—ready to airplane a spoonful into Ellie’s mouth.

“tè va a’ gustar…” you muttered under your blissed breath.

Ellie opens her mouth, grinning as she hears the little spanish sentence fall from your lips. you playfully do a small swerve, then eventually holding it close to her mouth for her to close her lips around. she kept eyes contact with you as she ate the piece of toast off your fork, eyesbrows raising in delight which you only nod your head, knowingly too.

Jesse and Dina watched the both of you amused before returning to their own conversation, how it was dina’s dream to roadtrip to California. you could hear her small talk drown out from your ears as the world felt like it spun, making it feel like it was just you two.

“it’s delicious, mama.” she hums out.

“i know, now say ‘que deliciosó’!”

Ellie tries her best to repeat after you, stuttering over her pronunciation.

“that was absolutely!—horrendous.” Dina fakes enthusiasm before completely deadpanning her expression.

“i would love to hear Jesse try!” Ellie claims, leaning into her own seated side of the booth.

“kay!—deli—si-o-so!”

you shared an awkward glance to Dina as Dina lips flatline completely, biting back a laugh as Ellies eyes meet yours before glancing at Dina. the table was silent as Jesse questioned what he said wrong, not holding in your laughter as you all laugh collectively.

“just stick to english, babe.” Dina consoles teasingly as you and Ellie try to catch your breath.

“i definitely did not sound like that!” Ellie laughs out, trying to catch her breath.

“easy Jesse!” you follow along, laughing in sync.

“the spanish lessons are for Ellie—not me.” Jesse immediately raised his hands up in the air as defense before going back to dig into the omelette he ordered.

now it was Ellie’s turn, she picked up the loaded crossiant sandwhich carefully. you shot her a small smile, moving your hair out the way slightly as you leaned in to take a bite out of her breakfast sandwich. you savored the buttery bread from the crossiant as the mix of cheese, hash brown, and mapled sausage mix into your mouth.

“ta—tè gusta?” she stumbled but managed to say it right. if your stomach wasn’t fluttering like a swarm of butterflies before, it definitely was now.

“mm!, muy rico.” you smile as you hear Dina clap, putting her fork down onto her plate of pancakes.

“okay spanish 101!, call Joel!—tell him Carne Asada at my house!” she exaggerates.

“girl, i know you kidding, but now, i want carne asada.” you tutt out before sipping on your coffee.

you all enjoyed your dinners together, laughing, conversating, and more importantly, bonding all the same.

“so, we hittin’ the store after this?” Jesse chimes with a stupid smile.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the trip to the grocery store was definitely….something.

Ellie and Jesse were like toddlers while you and Dina spent time hunting for the ingredients throughout the store.

“how about you get the drinks and let the—ahem, adults handle this.” Dina clears her throw, pointing back and forth between you and her.

“uh what—” Ellie began to protest.

“you—i need you to get limes, cilantro, and white onion.” you listed as you pointed to Ellie, whom immediately stopped talking.

“yes ma’am.” was all she said, before pulling you in for a kiss which you instinctively went to place your hand behind her neck gently, momentarily before pulling away.

“my beautiful man in the entire universe of ugly rotting men—who also happens to be of legal age!—get your sexy girlfriend liquor?” Dina remarks sweetly and dramatically.

“wow!, coarsing me into buying alcohol for you guys—that’s illegal.”

“look at you! knowing the law and shit—get us a bottle of Pátron Silver.” Dina quirked, giving him a kiss on the lips.

you all split up, each to their own getting what they needed. you picked out rice, brown beans, queso fresco, pepper/jalapeno, avocados, and of course, the steak. Dina grabbing any other ingredients needed.

once everyone was set, meeting at the store cart that Ellie strolled around.

“awe look at you guys! wasn’t so hard, huh?”

Dina playfully snarks out as you guys walk towards self-checkout. you watched the way Jesse playfully smacked Dina’s butt, kissing her forehead while at it. then, feeling a small arm sneak around the back of your waist.

“look at that straight shit.” she playfully icks out, getting a small giggle out of you.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

once you entered Dina’s—it was go-time.

the sound of the kitchen rustling with a bunch of noise coming from the hustling around from yourself, along with Dina. you got to marinating the steaks as Jesse got the mini grill that was outside of Dina’s balcony.

music tunes through Dinas personal handheld speaker as you got your freshly washed hands dirty. you cut multiple limes, then bringing out the salt and pepper.

the entire time, every time you grabbed a piece of raw steak; squeezing the lime juice onto the meat before sprinkling bit by bit salt & pepper, Ellie watched.

she couldn’t help not too stare.

she admired the concentration you carried with the biggest smile on your face—especially impressed by the way you squeezed the half-piece lime with one hand completely.

“what’s meat in spanish?” Ellie asks innocently, slightly hovering closer to you.

your smile widen, your teeth glimmer as you passed the seasoned steak onto an empty glass platter for Dina to take outside.

“say carne, baby.” you keep an eye on her as you spoke.

“carne—oh!, its in the name.”Ellie slightly confuses.

you lean in to give her a small peck “ay cariño, you are so cute.”

“you did say spanish 101 today—what did you call me?”

“special nickname—just for you!” you shot her a playful wink. you could still see unsurity in her face. “nothing bad, baby—it’s a term of endearment.” you finish off, placing the second marinated steak onto the glass plate.

“venga para acá, let me show you how.” you signal with your messy hand. Ellie made her way around from the counter she was leaning on, walking uo slightly behind you before standing next to you.

“come over here, empieza a poner sal y pimienta—start to put salt and pepper.” you repeated after yourself. you obeserved carefully the way she began to pronounce each foreign word.

“slow baby—you got it, pi-me-yen—tà.” you her at the end as she didn’t sound too bad for her first try. Ellie tries once again as she lathers the meat in the salt and pepper, flipping the meat over to do the same on the other side.

you got closer, leaning your head on her shoulder as your hands went to grab the salt as she rubbed in the lime juice. you pour a bit of salt onto your hand as you get ready to sprinkle it. Ellie’s hand made moved away slightly before going back to the spots you sprinkle salt to rub it in; the both of your arms ontop of another, almost entangled as you both began to season together.

the intimacy was different, yes it was romantic; definitely not sexual—this entire moment shared together gave you both a sensibility of home. the sweet tension divert into domestic parallels as Ellie’s back met your chest like magnets, feeling the way your breath feathered against the back of her neck in gentle rhythm.

it wasn’t just the physical touch that made the both of your bodies feel like electricity firing through each other’s veins.

the senses you both individually carried feeling like it invisibly oozed into each other, interlocking your connected hearts.

Ellie melted into you, her head moving the tiniest bit. you took it as a signal to dip your head intonthe crevess of her neck and peppering kisses as both of your hands smeared among the meat. you hward the way a sweet little symph of a hum was enough to have your heart jumping out your chest.

you gave a Ellie’s hands a bit of space, letting her transfer the piece of meat with the rest of the seasoned pieces on the glass plate. Ellie turned her head to the side, the side of her face, partly almost facing you completely; that was till she turned her head completely, moving a hand away in the process to not keep her encaged.

you just poured into each other’s eyes, neither of you wanted to leave the aroma of this feeling.

Ellie leaned in, eyes jumping from your eyes to your lips. you both kept your hands lowered as they were covered in the seasoning and lime juice; nothing stopping her from the way her lips locked into yours intoxicatingly.

“lets take these out to them, mama” she pulls away with a goofy smile, hinting at the meat.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the sun had set and the late evening arrived, watching the way the orange sky smiled back at the four of you as you all created a night to remember.

the sound of Bachatá Xtremè’s ‘Te Extraño’ playing through as you and Dina took slight dance-like steps between each shot, chasing it by sucking on a piece of lime.

you both started off chill at first—making yourselves a little drink to sip on as you finished cooking and smashing the beans, dina finishing up the rice, and making the guacamole—the more spanish bangers came on, your amount drinks had gotten hefty.

Jesse was on the Grill, occasionally being pulled away from a very drunk dina to dance with her—kudos to Jesse though, he kept a pretty good pace.

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: AGORA HILLS

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

right now, you were sat ontop of Ellies lap, puffing on the blunt she rolled. she had one arm cradling the back of you as the other passed the smoke between the both of you.

Ellie spent the day admiring the way you ran around all day, now that you were here; with her sat and seated. it was your turn to admire the strong gorgeous woman.

although the sun had set, the slight glow from the toned out blue sky perfectly sharpened her freckles specking across her soft face, the way her t-shirt hugged her, and especially the small muscle in her biceps that flex each time she took a drag.

“whatcha lookin’ at, mama?” she caught you, giving you a small smile as she passed you the Dutch.

“sorry—really wanted you to pass the blunt already.” your sarcasm lacing your sweet tone as you gave her fake look of dissatisfaction.

“oh! really!?” Ellie gawks, playing into fake offense.

you gave her a big smile you couldn’t falter. you brought the cigarillo up to your lips, inhaling and then exhaling before speaking, “i never said thank you.” you began.

“thank you for what?” she questions, the hand she used to hold the blunt to caress your face.

“for standing up for me, for being there, for literally—being here. you could’ve ran off and you didn’t.” your voice was sincere, nothing more.

“i would do it all again in a heartbeat, mama.”

your entire heart felt like a floodgate opening, allowing the sweetest taste of serotonin rush through.

“there isn’t a single thing i would do differently—change—now, i would give everything to not meet that jack-ass waiter.” Ellie says, her eyes not leaving yours as her words went straight into your heart.

you chuckle out “fuck him—that guy’s a friend of my ex. i didn’t even know he worked there.” you explained, reminiscing a bit.

Ellie was quick to stop any moment longer. “fuck them both, they mad to see you doing good.” she devotes, pulling you into her to kiss your forehead. the reassurance made your stomach flutter up.

“and with someone greater, too—in all ways.” you whisper out, leaning your head down slightly so your foreheads met.

you were in love with Ellie Williams, a feeling that you had never felt so strong.

“i wanna tell everyone you’re mine—show you off, make them all fuckin’ mad.”

before Elle could say anything else, you hear a drunk Dina cheer Listos para comer! (we ready to eat!) .

you all helped bring the food inside, setting the dinner table as chatter wisped between the four of you. the dinner table was scattered with all the delicious plates you all bonded over cooking.

it was like a cute family dining scene from a movie.

you all began to dig in, Dina looking over at you with a look that you knew exactly to return as you both silently waited at the table; your eyes moving from meeting Dina’s to Ellie and Jesse, watching them chew. you both waited with big grins as they both let slight moan and gasp from their savorful meals.

you and dina cant help the fit of laughter you break into which only confuse the both of them.

“don’t know what’s funny—you’re not gonna be laughing when im on one knee though.” Ellie was dead serious.

“ouh! i better be a bridesmaid!” Dina exclaims excitedly.

needless to say, you were beaming a deep rose through your cheeks, bringing your Soda Jarritos to try to cover your face.

the dinner bled into the night, completely being filled with overjoyed laughter and deep conversations—still, slightly making fun of their spanish pronunciations.

Ellie was sat right next to you.

“pass me a tortilla, amor.” you let it out without a thought, you caught yourself, slightly stumbling as you tried to excuse the little epithet that left your lips.

you saw the way a wide shiteating smile tugged her lips as she reached her arm aceoss the table to pass you the traditional tortilla warmer for you to make tacos out of the asada.

you thought Ellie pretended to not hear atleast, as you began to bite into your taco; Ellie leaned into your ear.

“we’re gonna make sure everybody knows you’re mine—as i’ve been yours since that night, mama.”

dolls-taglist: ̗̀➛ @snowy-vee @elliesleftflap @tphmnv @starrkissezz @we-loveebony @lavenderhazelsworld @marsworlddd @kissthedewdrops @elliewilliamsgirl3 @graviewaviee @gato-chino @bunnyrose01 @bready101 @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @cosmopolitanaut @yumimak @elliewilliamgfooc @evangelinexo @yondaimekazzy @moonyvs4 @tearouthearts @ride4els @luzthenarnian

a/n: i am indeed the mexican woman ellie is talking about that used to date joel 💖💓💞 matter of fact he in my bed rn !!! also i didnt add lyrics because i feel like the scene was too short ( might add them later still thinking)

in all seriousness though, thank you so much for the patience cus its basically EXAMS MONTH for my ass 😭 yall are amazing and @openupforme for keeping me going😽

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The thirst to subjugate (Part 3)

Summary: In the midst of the battle, the Alpha Legion finally takes you for themselves and subjugates yo u whole.

Corvus Corax/fem!Reader, Alpharius and Omegon/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, drugs, manipulation, dubcon

Word count: 2204

Song: Hatari, CYBER - Hlauptu

@kit-williams, @moodymisty, okay in the last days everyone remembered about Alpha Legion so... I hope we will talk about them more

Corvus was so afraid of losing you. Lose sight. He kept you in the shadows, hidden from prying eyes. But at the same time, closer to yourself. And this was quite dangerous with Horus' betrayal. Escessaily because Corax was supposed to come to Isstvan V to punish the primarch.

“I never loved him. Ever since the day he put my Legion in danger. He didn’t have the charisma to deceive me.” - the man gently puts his head on yours and kisses your hair. - “We are the majority. Soon my brothers will pay for their betrayal.”

He told you about this with dark fury and a touch of melancholy. His massive body lay on your bed, his arm wrapped around your waist like a wing. You involuntarily pressed yourself against him, grabbing his clothes. Afraid that he will leave. That he will leave you.

And instead of the primarch whom you loved, to whom you opened your heart... he will be replaced again by that same monster. Which will devour your flesh, break your bones and consume your soul. Touch, comfort and breathe into your ear, breathe, breathe.

“The Alpha Legion will be with us.” - the man almost whispers and you hide under his armpit. You still remember the primarchs of the primarch because of whose attention you ended up here. In a cage. - “Don't worry, you're safe here. They won't find you."

"Found."

Human. Man. In this room. Not Corvus. Someone else. How many years has the Primarch of the Raven Guard kept you captive with him? Probably for a very long time because your reaction to a stranger was, to put it mildly, inadequate.

You are sitting in bed, covered with a blanket from head to toe. It's like you're in a cocoon or like a child hiding from a monster. You can’t squeeze out a sound, opening your mouth like a fish. Did you want to call Corvus to save you? Or did you want to ask Alpharius to take you?

You don't see his face. He's wearing a helmet. But it's him. The man takes a step towards you, encouraging you to press deeper into the blanket. You whine, hiccup, choking on tears. You will be offended. They will take it, tear it to pieces and make it their own. So it was with Corvus, so it will be with the primarch of the Alpha Legion.

“Ooh, little one, aren’t you glad to see me?” - the man mockingly strokes your back. - “It seems our brother doesn’t know how to treat nice ladies at all. It’s fine, we’ll be gentle with you~”

You only squeeze harder when they lift you up. "We". Surely. You're not crazy, it didn't seem like it to you. There were two of them. You told Corvus about this, you warned him. But those who sit in the shadows cannot know all the secrets. He cannot fully see and realize what is difficult to understand, but what is in sight. But you can.

And you pay for it.

***

Hydra is different. You don't like it here. Everything unfamiliar and frightening, other people, other Space Marines. Crowds, crowds of people scurried around while you were carried along the board. Noisy. Too loud. You're already unaccustomed to this. Previously favorite sounds now are disgusting. And light. There is too much light here. It's almost blinding.

You wanted everyone to shut up, so that it would become a little darker. Nest. You wanted to return home, where everything is familiar. Where you will be safe in the arms of the monster. But that's why. That's why you didn't want to come back.

The primarch clearly noticed your condition. Therefore, before leaving you in your new chambers, he made sure that you would not hear any extraneous sounds. And there will be less light in the room so that you don’t squint in pain. The gesture was... nice. You were not forced to live in a new way, you were not thrown into a new place without preparing you. And he made sure that you were comfortable.

Corvus wanted to be so caring. But he didn't succeed.

You were treated like a savage. The food was brought out carefully. They were given a change of clothes and washing supplies. The serfs were clearly ordered to establish contact with you. Talk to you, touch you. So that you remember what it's like. To be a human among people. Have you really gone wild?

And you studied. Communicate again, touch again. But in small doses. You still didn't trust. You were in danger. This is not your home, your primarch is not around. And you feel this most acutely when two men came into your room one day. With the faces of primarch. Absolutely identical in everything. Facial features, facial expressions, gestures, height. Even the voice.

“Are you feeling better now little one? We were so worried.” “But you look more like the prior you we once saw. It’s already better.”

You back away from the clones, hiding in the far corner of the room. The darkest one you can hide in. You can dissolve. Almost like Corvus. Just let them leave you alone. Let them not mock. The “twins” sensed your fear and smiled. Eerily identical.

"Who is who?"

"What?" - You look from one to the other in confusion.

“The first time you met Alpharius. Then we didn’t pay attention to you.” - the one on the left spoke first, until the man on the right continued after him. - “For the second time you saw Omegon. Have you noticed that we are different? So tell us again~”

"Who is who?" - the men again ask the question in unison, flashing their white teeth. Taunting. Mocking. And at the same time, encouraging and inviting to play their perverted game. - “Who is Alpharius? Who is Omegon?

Your legs begin to shake and you sob quietly. You look at the faces, at the movements, at the identical, but so different natures. Short sighs turn into weeps, and then into sobs. Let them stop making fun of you. You don't see them. You can not see.

Hysteria takes over you and you start hitting yourself on the head. Feeling the gaze of the “twins” and something else on you. You scream at the top of your lungs, it seems like a little longer and you will never be able to speak.

"NOBODY! NOBODY!" - Tears and snot are flowing down your face, and in your attempts to wipe them away, you only smear them more. - “Alpharius is not here. There is no O-omegon. You are not them, I don't know you. No one, no one, no-.”

“She's amazing,” a deep voice echoes in your brain, keeping you rooted to the ground. What?

“She doesn’t even realize how much.” - you can imagine how the man’s lips break into a smile from what he sees.

You forget how to breathe. The uncontrollable hysteria suddenly stops, and the heart beats like a rabbit. You look in horror at the “primarchs” in front of you. They smile silently, looking somewhere behind you. To where the voices came from.

You didn’t have a single chance to do something, to somehow resist. One arm grabbed you from the back, pressing you to your broad chest. You didn’t even have time to breathe when you felt a sharp pain in the form of a needle in your neck. And a sweet bliss passes through the body.

The mouth fills with saliva, and either heat or sweet bliss passes through the body. Eyes were clouded with fog and tears. And you begin to feel even more strongly someone else’s hand squeezing your right breast like a toy. And you see a figure approaching you, a little larger than its copy. Alpharius smiles as if everything is fine and flicks you on the nose.

“Don't cry, honey. But this is necessary for you to enjoy it too.”

“But it won’t hurt you” - Omegon inhales the smell of your hair, pressing your supple body harder. - “And we want to be very, very gentle for our first time with you~”

You really wanted to be in the saving darkness. In a place where you can hide. But strangely enough this did not happen. You were in a fog, in a semi-conscious state. But at the same time clearly saw how they began to take off your clothes. They made you watch.

You won't even be given a chance to turn away.

***

It was unbearably hot. You felt disgusting and at the same time so good. For some time now, sweat has been dripping down your flesh. Your body was soft, terribly pliable and sickeningly sticky. Just like your brain turned to jelly after drugs.

There was no resistance despite all your desire, buried somewhere in the depths of your consciousness. The only thing you wanted was to survive. Because the primarch still couldn’t leave your cunt alone. Fingers slowly widened the entrance while the tongue licked and sucked the tender skin.

Maybe in the back of your mind you were screaming in horror and disgust. But you couldn't resist. And besides... it was amazing. Your thighs rest loosely on the man’s shoulders, sometimes squeezing around his head when he touches particularly tender spots. His light chuckles echo in your head.

As well as the cooing of his half-soul brother, nestled on the bed with you. The man caressed your hands, gently supporting you while you moaned loudly. Everything was blurry and yet you clearly saw his mischievous smile and growing arousal.

“Do you like it, honey?” - the voice from above bursts into laughter when it hears your uncontrollable, hypergasmic moan in response. - “I see you do. Do you see how caring and gentle we are?”

“We not only take, but also give~” - the voice from below sounds seductively promising until he begins to forcefully attack your sex. Something in you is shifting.

You scream as if you are being cut, fidgeting on the bed. Your strength returns a little and you scratch the primarch sitting above you. He giggles at the sight. How parents are touched by their children, and how they are cherished their pets.

Your legs fall onto the bed and you hear, feel how he adjusts. Adjusts near your hips. No, no. They brought you to the peak so much, but it’s still not enough for them. A little more and the unwanted pleasure will turn into pain.

“D-don’t”

“Little one, this is why we prepared you. Dealing with two primarchs is not an easy task.” - man's hands stroke your sides, squeeze your lower abdomen, enjoy the soft and pliable flesh. - “This will be even better, then you yourself will ask us about it.”

“Be a good girl and take us in.” - someone else's hands grab your breasts from above. You feel something sticky and musky running across your face, leaving marks on your forehead, nose and lips. - “You liked it, didn’t you?” No effort is needed, just relax, we will do everything ourselves.”

“But I’m tired, Alpharius,” you whine from powerlessness. The primarchs stopped abruptly and you froze along with them, but this time from fear. The men looked at you, surprised, you knew they were surprised.

And with desire which they began to splash out with renewed vigor, touching and biting every part of the body. Taking turns contorting themselves in awkward positions to kiss you on the lips with their tongue. Subjugating.

Oh, they weren't going to wait forever. They had enough courage and confidence to take you and not break you. And despite their secrets... they weren't going to hide this desire.

“Even in this state, you can see~” - Alpharius strokes your head, carefully wiping away your tears. - “I wonder what needs to be done to confuse you.”

“One day we will find out,” Omegon abruptly invades you and you groan from his cock. Your walls tighten and you hear the primarch himself let out a moan of satisfaction. Before you even had time to think, your mouth was immediately unceremoniously invaded. You are choking on saliva and a foreign object inside. - “Come on, honey, let it go. We see that you want this.”

Let it go.

Relax.

Submit.

The words flowed at you in a flood, echoing in your head. The sounds of flesh on flesh and moans filled the chambers. It seems at some point you finally opened up. It wasn't the substance coursing through your veins that made your body relax. But at your will. And it was wonderful.

How your walls clenched around the invading cock, how your throat managed to swallow more of the other. How someone else's hands and eyes caressed you. And not just the eyes of the primarchs. You knew you were being watched. They were ready to join if ordered. Not hiding in the shadows because they knew what you would see. They wanted it.

So that the secret is cracked open like a nut and its contents are taken out. And your tired consciousness allows them to reshape themselves in a different image. They will cherish you in their perverted understanding, without hiding your true essence. And you were more than happy with that.

[elitehanitje]

Vince McMahon Sabotaged Christian Cage's Career

In February 2009, Christian made his surprising return to WWE and debuted on the ECW brand. The moment was exciting for fans, as Christian had made a big name for himself during his nearly four-year stint with TNA Wrestling.

Some fans don't look back on the moment fondly though, as commentator Todd Grisham didn't have much enthusiasm in his voice for the return of a legend. As it turns out, Vince McMahon himself instructed Grisham to have a low demeanor about Christian's return to the company.

Right before I walked out of the Gorillia position before the show. Vince McMahon called me over and said, “When Christian walks out..don’t get excited at all simply say ‘it’s Christian’ and that’s it. Understand me?” Me: “Yes sir”

Tony Khan responded to Grisham's post, calling the behavior insane.

In a recent interview, Kurt Angle stated that there isn't much difference between Vince McMahon and the character of 'Mr. McMahon'.

Reacting to a post criticizing his commentary on X, Grisham recalled the infamous moment. The former WWE personality detailed how McMahon ordered him to say those exact words when Christian returned. Grisham could do nothing but accept and follow his boss’ instructions. Over the years, this moment has become a running online joke. 

For some reason, McMahon never saw Christian as a potential main-event talent in WWE. Therefore, Captain Charisma failed to reach similar heights as his best friend, Edge (Adam Copeland). Even after winning his first World Heavyweight Championship, the Canadian star ended up losing the belt in five days. 

The story reignited the long-standing debate around McMahon's supposed dislike of Christian (rumors mentioned that Jay wasn't a yes-man and didn't want to be involved with any shenanigans backstage involving Vince and his bullying/harassment way).

The latter was once one-half of his most profitable tag-team stable with Edge. However, following their diversion into single competitors, the former 'Captain Charisma' was never treated as a prized asset.

Former WWE star Lance Storm confirmed the official WWE program incorrectly billed Christian at 5’ 10” when the man whose real name is William Reso is 3-4 inches taller.

McMahon's old WWE lead writer Alex Greenfield later revealed the billionaire once pitched to have Christian's face covered by a blue dot.

"Right before I started, there was a big show, I think it might have been in Toronto. Christian was just so completely over, and everybody thought he was going to get a push at, I think it was the World Heavyweight Championship at that point. We were on the plane one time shortly after I started, and Vince was just like 'God damn, I just don't like his face. His face really bothers me.'

"I was like, 'He's ugly, Vince?'

'No, it's not that he's ugly, it's just, I don't know, it's ratty!"

WWE executive Bruce Pritchard even waded in on the theory, by explaining McMahon was never a major fan. "[Vince] didn’t feel that [Christian] had the personality to connect with the audience in a big way. He didn’t think he was larger than life and at that time Vince wanted the top guys needed to be larger than life. You needed to be The Rock, needed to be Stone Cold, you needed to be Undertaker. Every time you would come up with an idea for Edge or Christian it would be like okay, there is a lot of excitement there with Edge."

"‘Oh by God, we could do this with him. We could do this with him, a big good-looking bastard and then we’d get to Christian and it would just be, ‘Ugh, God, do we have to shoot him? Do we have to see that face? The fuck’s he gonna say?!’"

Even after winning his first World Heavyweight Championship, Christian ended up losing the belt within five days.

He inducted long-term partner Edge into the WWE Hall of Fame in 2012 but is conspicuous by his own absence from the list over a decade later. The veteran wasn't offered a new WWE contract following a separate return at the Royal Rumble in 2021.

He has since found a home in AEW under Tony Khan's leadership, who reacted to Grisham's story further in an additional post that read: "Christian Cage is the man."

[nade2308]

Lieutenant Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, USN, Naval Aviator, "Top Gun", 1986

Lieutenant Junior Grade Daniel Kaffee, USN, JAG Corps, "A Few Good Men", 1992

Colonel Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg, Geman Army, "Valkyrie", 2008

Roy Miller/Matthew Knight, CIA operative, "Knight and Day", 2010

Ethan Hunt, IMF agent in disguise as General Anatoly Fedorov, Russian Army, "Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol", 2011

Jack Reacher, ex-Major and investigator for the 110th Military Police Special Investigation Unit, US Army, "Jack Reacher", 2012

William Cage, public affairs officer and Major, US Army, "Edge of Tomorrow", 2014

Jack Reacher, ex-Major and investigator for the 110th Military Police Special Investigation Unit, US Army, "Jack Reacher: Never go back", 2016

Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, USN, Naval Aviator, test pilot and flight instructor for the Navy, "Top Gun: Maverick", 2022

Barry Seal, airline commercial pilot for TWA, "American Made", 2017

"A man becomes the creature of his uniform."

- Napoleon Bonaparte

@thethistlegirl @malewifebillcage

[scullysexual]

We'll Meet Beyond The Shore.

Somewhere beyond the sea, she’s there watching for me, and if I could fly like a bird on high, then straight into her arms I’d go sailing.

Tags and Warnings: Major character death, enemies to friends (to lovers), doomed lovers.

n/a: People seemed interested in this so I thought I would make this official and give it a go writing it. I have four chapters written already so hopefully I'll stay on top and keep writing more. Please read the warnings and tags carefully; you'll probably hate me for this (and this fic) so I'm very sorry in advance but I'm evil and this is literally my playground. Anyway I hope you read and enjoy :)

Chapter One: The Reaping.

Fox Mulder awakens from his nightmare in the dank, dark basement he has called home for the last year. Skin clammy, heart hammering against his rib cage, he swings his legs off the bed and breaths in and out slowly, counting to 10 each time, willing his heart to slow down.

It was just a nightmare, he repeats to himself.

But it wasn’t just a nightmare.

A memory. Old but still as fresh in his mind as it was two years ago. District Seven’s town square, the smell of wood and sweat as the sun beamed down on him, a bowl full of names- girl names- and one called out.

Samantha Mulder.

In his dream he teleported, in the way one does in a dream, and he was right there, helpless, watching as his 12 year old sister was bludgeoned to death. She didn’t even make it past day one’s bloodbath.

He watched as his mother sunk away, a shell of herself, his father leave not 3 weeks later.

Mulder left himself, eventually, vowed to kill the Capital as they had killed his sister but he was just one boy, grief-stricken and angry, and his cries for an uprising went unheard. Mostly. The Peacekeeper’s had come down on him hard, punished him severely for it, but not executed, not as Mulder wished to be, his father’s influence was far too strong.

So Mulder left completely, snuck away in the dead of night with a band of merrymen. They had a boat and a dream to get far away from Panem as they could.

Their boat and their dream capsized on day 5, a strong wave knocking their tiny boat to pieces. Only Mulder survived, clinging on to a plank of wood, drifting unconscious for 3 days, into the territory of District Four.

A ship found him.

At first Mulder thought they were Peacekeepers but upon closer inspection he found they were dressed as simple fishermen. He was pulled aboard, introduced to the captain, the father of the boy who helped him up, who introduced himself as William Scully and his son, Bill.

Captain Scully took him to a pub, fed and watered him, and didn’t ask where Mulder had come from.

The pub became his job, the basement his bedroom. A week later he registered as a resident of District Four and his name was entered five times.

He hadn’t escaped. The hadn’t destroyed the Capitol. He never would.

Mulder shakes the dream, and memories of another life, from his brain. He puts on the clothes he wore yesterday and climbs the staircase leading to the pub.

He finds Wade at the bar, pouring drinks for the old sailors who have nowhere better to be. Mulder nods once at Wade who nods once back, a mutual good luck said between them. Wade is 18- the same age as Mulder- but his name sits waiting in that bowl 35 times to Mulder’s meagre 5.

Mulder bypasses the bar and heads towards the kitchen. He almost smacks into Kehlani, hands and arms full carrying three plates food. She knows exactly what he is here for.

“You’ll have to get in line, Mel’s backed up and it’s only half 7,” she tells him before she’s rushing towards her table. Mulder looks around the near-empty pub before he pushes on the kitchen door.

Melvin is frying fish in a pan. It stinks and Mulder resists the urge to cover his nose.

He really, really hates fish.

“Get lost 7,” Melvin shouts over his shoulder. “I’m backed up in here, you’re gonna have to wait.”

“Yeah, Kehlani said,” says Mulder. He throws the fish in the pan a distasteful look. “You got anything other than fish on the menu?”

Melvin smiles at him and Mulder counts one less tooth from yesterday. “This your first time in Fish District?” He cocks his head towards the door. “Saw a tree on my way in, maybe you can eat some bark?”

“Ha-ha maybe you should’ve been a comedian, Frohike,” Mulder says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He nabs the bowl of fruit sitting on the counter and leans against it.

Frohike and Kehlani were the only ones who knew where Mulder came from. Sat in the basement, the expensive bottle of whiskey between the three of them, Mulder finally told them he had been born in District Seven after their constant prodding. More questions and he told them what it’d been like living there. They stared at him in awe, soaking in every bit of information. They’d asked him which he preferred, Mulder hadn’t answered, keeping that one to himself.

“Hey,” Melvin calls, a sudden seriousness looming over them. “How’re you feeling today?”

Today.

“I’m good. One more year, right?”

Melvin nods. “One more year.” Then. “I found Kehlani crying this morning. I didn’t know what to say to her.”

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing. What do I say to her? This shit’s fucked.”

Mulder looks towards the door, conscious of who could hear them, then quietly whispers. “Yeah…”

Kehlani bursts in then and looks at the two of them.

“Slacking off, Mel?” she admonishes , hands of her hips, the perfect imitation of Laguna the landlady.

“No!” yells Frohike turning bright red. “Just waiting for the fish to fry.”

Kehlani turns her attention onto Mulder and her eyes narrow, staring at the bowl of fruit.

“That was my fruit Mulder,” she tells him with a pout, dropping the imitation.

“Shit, sorry Lani.” Mulder holds the fruit bowl out to her. As her hands touch it to take it, Mulder says, “Good luck today, yeah?”

Kehlani looks to Frohike who quickly casts his eyes away. She turns back to Mulder and gives him a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, you too.” Mulder lets go of the bowl and she steps back. “I’m gonna go eat this,” she says to Melvin. “Mulder can be a waitress for a bit.” Then with a smile backed by a memory. “Don’t drop the plates this time, yeah?”

“I’d forgotten about that,” says Frohike with a laugh.

Mulder tosses him a glare and watches Kehlani leave wondering if this could be the last time he ever sees her.

.:.:.:.:.:.

The gulls caw, flying overhead. Dana watches them, committing them to memory. Her bare foot grazes the water, committing that to memory also, along with the breeze and the smell of seawater and sand. A ritual each year because what if it’s the last?

“Dana!”

Dana sighs and turns her head down the pier. Melissa approaches slightly out of breath.

“Mom’s looking for you. She wants us to eat before we go.”

Dana turns away to look back out into the ocean. “I’m not hungry,” she says.

Missy sits down opposite her. They used to do this all the time, sit out here together. Dana found her one time, when Missy had just turned 12 two days before the reaping, her eyes red from crying. It became tradition, each year 11 and 13, 12 and 14, 15 and 16…all the way up to last year when they were 17 and 19, when Melissa was free but Dana was still stuck with her name in the bowl 14 times, double the amount it should be.

“You have to eat,” says Melissa with concern.

“I’ll eat after the reaping.”

“Dana—”

“I’ll eat after the reaping,” Dana repeats louder and harsher. If she eats now she’ll throw up and that’ll be a waste, not when Melissa, Charlie, their mother can have more servings.

Melissa sighs, resigning herself. She looks out towards the ocean.

“I hate it,” she says.

“What?” asks Dana.

She points to beyond them. “That. The ocean. I’ve hated it for 3 years.”

“I love it.”

Melissa looks at her. “Only because Dad loved it.”

Dana shrugs. “You should come out with me and Billy on a ship some day.”

Missy shakes her head. “I’d just get in the way.”

That was true, Melissa wasn’t made for ships. But still…Dana smiles at her.

“What are you smiling at?” Melissa asks her, weary.

“If I’m not reaped, you have to join us on the ship.”

Melissa looks at her, aghast. She frowns, conflicted, and then relents.

“Fine…” And Dana smiles some more. “But only because I really don’t want to wish you were reaped.”

They both look out towards the ocean again, their smiles fading.

“I’ll see it again, won’t I?” Dana asks quietly.

“Yeah,” says Melissa with so much confidence Dana actually believes her. “And who knows, maybe Isla will finally be reaped.” Missy’s smile is cruel.

“You’re really going to hold that grudge forever, aren’t you?” Dana asks, shaking her head.

Melissa nods. “Yep, never letting it go.”

They smile at each other once more before movement on the other side catches their attention, hoards of people making their way towards the town square.

Dana’s stomach twists. It is time.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

People flood in like waves. Mulder navigates his way to where the cluster of 18 year olds stand. He finds himself next to Wade who’s eyes are down and he is white as a conch shell. His eyes meet Kehlani’s across the way standing with the other 15 year old girl’s. He smiles, she smiles back. He pulls his eyes away and looks down.

One more year.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She holds onto Charlie’s hand for as long as she can, until the Peacekeeper blocks their path and pulls them apart. She watches as Charlie walks towards the other boys before she is gently shoved towards the direction of the girl’s. Dana glances at them only briefly before she is staring straight ahead, eyes on the bowl, a bowl that holds 14 pieces of Dana Scullys.

One more year.

.:.:.:.:.:.

The Mayor, Walter Skinner, Monica Reyes.

The Mayor, Walter Skinner, Monica Reyes.

The Mayor, Water Skinner, Mon—

“The boys!” Monica Reyes calls out, as she does every year. She always starts with the boys. Mulder clenches his fists, tries to tamper down his nerves. Wade is shaking beside him, Mulder can feel it rolling over him in waves. Reyes places her hand into the bowl, searches around. Mulder glances at Wade, the other boy is…crying? Reyes pulls her hand out, unfolds the piece of paper. It’s Wade, Mulder thinks. That piece of paper has Wade’s name written on it.

“Fox Mulder!”

It’s Wade Firth—Wait. Mulder freezes. All eyes on are him.

Did she just say Fox Mulder?

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

It’s not Charlie. Thank god it isn’t Charlie.

Dana releases her breath, one of two she holds.

It isn’t Charlie.

Instead it is Fox Mulder.

Dana had heard of him, a strange boy. It was rumoured he was the boy her father had found out at sea the year before, the boy from another place. His surname was familiar. 6 years ago a girl with the same last name had been pulled from the bowl, 12 years old, she had died almost immediately, everyone around her was just thankful it wasn’t their own.

Fox Mulder was the boy tribute but who would the girl be?

Monica Reyes places her hand in the right-hand bowl. Dana holds her breath, watching. She wants to close her eyes, hold her hands over her ears and be anywhere but here; sat on the pier watching the waves in the water, sailing on the ship pulling up nets of a hundred fishes, anywhere but where she was standing right now.

Monica pulls her hand out, unfolds the piece of paper. The name is said crisp and clear, there was no mistaking it. Somebody familiar cries out just as it all sinks in.

Dana Scully is the girl tribute.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Fox Mulder and Dana Scully stand on the stage. Mulder looks towards Dana, she can feel his eyes on her, she stares ahead. Scully, is all Mulder can think as he stands there, like William Scully? He wants to know but Dana gives him nothing, she can’t.

Reyes tries to get the crowd to clap but there is nothing but dead faces staring back at them. This isn’t District 1 or 2 where celebrations are held. District Four might not be the worst of the Districts but one will still find no jumps for joy here. All are still scared. All are still angry.

The doors close and they are all submerged in darkness.

[scotianostra]

Robert the Bruce was born in Turnberry Castle, Ayrshire on 11th July 1274.

Well where do we start with this one? I think the majority of us know about Robert and how he led us to victory at Bannockburn so I will put a bit background together of his immediate family.

His mother Marjorie, Countess of Carrick, I think nowadays the term we would use, and it's quite appropriate , is battle-axe. According to what has been written about her she held his father, Robert de Brus, 6th Lord of Annandaleprisoner until he agreed to marry her, it was through his mother that he drew most of his Scottish ancestry. The marriage must have worked for as well as Robert they had 7 more children.

After the Battle of Methven his wee brother Nigel de Brus was captured at Kildrummy Castle and was taken to Berwick to be hanged, drawn and beheaded for high treason, he was protecting Robert's wife, Elizabeth, his daughter Marjorie, his sisters Christina and Mary Bruce, and Isabella MacDuff, Countess of Buchan and helped them escape, although they were later captured by Balliol's army and handed over to Edward I. Nigel was executed for high treason by being hanged, drawn, and quartered in September 1306 at Berwick-upon-Tweed by the English. Two of his other brothers, Alexander and Thomas were also judicially murdered at Carlisle on Februaey 17th 1307 after being captured at Loch Ryan Galloway in 1207, after landing an invasion force consisting of eighteen galleys trying to take land from Dungal MacDouall, who was a supporter of the Comyns,.

Arguably the most famous of his siblings was Edward Bruce, if you have been paying attention you will remember his part in fighting with Robert at Bannockburn, he later went and fought in Ireland and indeed became King for a short time but lost his life in the Battle of Faughart, the, it's said the victor John de Bermingham then took his head to England to be put on display before Edward II.

Robert's sisters, Christina and Mary, as I said earlier were captured after the siege at Kildrummy, along with Isabella MacDuff, now Isabella crowned the Bruce at Scone, it was tradition that the MacDuffs performed the crowning of Scottish monarchs, Isabella arrived the day after Robert had been crowned but the Bruce agreed to second crowning as otherwise some would see the ceremony as irregular, not being performed by a MacDuff.Isabella was imprisoned in cages for four years of Isabella, Edward Longshanks is said to have commanded "Let her be closely confined in an abode of stone and iron made in the shape of a cross, and let her be hung up out of doors in the open air at Berwick, that both in life and after her death, she may be a spectacle and eternal reproach to travellers."

The sisters faired a wee bit better, Isabel Bruce became Queen of Norway as the wife of King Eric II., so escaped the First War of Scottish Independence. Christina and Mary, also captured after Kildrummy, were sent into solitary confinement at a Gilbertine nunnery at Sixhills in Lincolnshire. Mary Bruce was given the same treatment as Isabella MacDuff, but held at Roxburgh Castle.. The sisters sspent eight years as English prisoners, and returned to Scotland in October 1314 as part of the ransom for the Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, who was taken prisoner after the Battle of Bannockburn.

There is not a great deal of detail about the other sisters, Margaret married one Sir William de Cairlyle. Lady Elizabeth Bruce married Sir William Dishington of Ardross, in Fife, and finally Matilda, (Maud) Bruce married Hugh 4th Earl of Ross.

Robert was married twice in his life, first to Isabella of Mar, who died in 1296, , with whom he had a daughter Marjorie, from whom the Stewart dynasty was to trace its lineage. His second wife was Elizabeth de Burgh, with whom he had five children – Margaret, Matilda, David, John (who died in infancy) and Elizabeth. His eldest son succeeded his father as King David II of Scotland.

The photo shows Isabella MacDuff and King Robert I in “The Crowning of Bruce” part of an exhibition at Edinburgh Castle.

[mychoombatheroomba]

Don't Let Go

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 36

You get some unexpected support, and you and Leon come to an understanding that neither of you likes.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

They had the day off, but the first thing that everyone wanted was answers.

To his credit, Krauser took the time to answer them all as best he could. 

“Why didn’t you warn us?” 

“I didn’t know.”

“Do they have the authority to even do that?” 

“. . . Yes.” 

“What are they so afraid of us blabbing about?” 

“You’ll be learning that in the coming weeks.” 

“Are those assholes really going to be staying?” 

“Yes.”

Leon stood in the back as the rest of the squad learned what he already knew: what they’d suffered for. What some of them were being sent home for. No one was happy with the answers given, but most understood. Leon understood. The reasoning, at least. Not the practice. Not the torture. He would never understand that. 

Nor would he understand the answer to the question Valeria hissed out, one that had been eating away at Leon, too. The one thing he wasn’t reasonably sure of, on Krauser’s end regarding the whole experience. 

“They had our letters,” she said, her foot tapping against the floor beneath where she sat on her bunk. “From months back.” 

Leon watched shadow overtake Krauser’s eyes, that crease between his brows deepening. 

“Hadn’t heard from my mom. Is it because they held those letters from us?” 

Krauser nodded once, his gaze unwavering even if it was full of regret. “Yes.” 

“And you knew?” Valeria pressed, hurt evident in her features. 

Another pause, before Krauser nodded. “Yes. STRATCOM procedure. No communication with the world outside during training.” 

“So any letters we sent home . . .” 

“. . . Were never sent.”

Top-secret shit, even before the bioweapons were brought into play. 

Not that it made the pill any easier to swallow. 

Still, the Major didn’t try to shift the blame off of himself, even as Valeria fixed him in a scalding glare. If looks could kill, Jack Krauser would be a pile of ash on the ground. “That’s bullshit,” Valeria snapped. “Sir.” 

“Watch that tone, Soto,” Krauser met her, steel for steel. Leon had seen the man make soldiers give him fifty push-ups for mouthing off . . . but he’d also seen him allow Leon to speak his mind. He’d seen the Major listen to Leon’s own concerns, even if the Major seemed to like quite literally everyone else better than him. So, even if he barked at Valeria now, Leon wasn’t surprised when a moment later, the Major just gave her an apologetic look. There were a lot of those that he gave that morning, until there were no more questions. 

None that anyone was brave enough to ask, anyway. 

Their personal effects were passed back out to them - the ones that had been abandoned in the Humvees when Reed and Hellman had taken the squad. Three days ago. Three days and a lifetime, it felt like. 

Just like how Raccoon City felt like a lifetime in one night. 

Pain had a way of doing that, didn’t it? Warping the world. A day became forever, forever became attached to the idea of something terrible. A cage with no bars. He wondered how long he and the rest would be stuck in that cage? How long the bruises would take to heal, how often, like last night, someone would hear movement in the barracks and jolt awake, expecting a blow for having fallen asleep . . .

Everyone was still so quiet as they unloaded their freshly returned packs. Hard not to be when Andersen and the other three who had failed were there, not bothering to join in the unpacking. What was the point if they were going to be gone by tomorrow anyway?

As for the rest, the day was theirs to do with as they pleased, and no one had any idea how to spend that free time. 

Not until heavy footfalls against the floor made Leon and those around him - Alenko, Williams and Valeria - look up, and they found the Major standing there, his hands behind his back. He looked at each of them, gaze sweeping from right to left before landing on Leon and hardening. Sharpening. Leon was sure then that he was about to hear a speech about his failure. About how he’d broken and the only reason that he and Valeria were being allowed to stay were because of Krauser’s own intervention. Or maybe that this entire thing was because of a request that Leon made. He could think of no other reason for the loathing in that stare. 

Instead, the Major looked back at the group as a whole. “Heard you had some trouble back at Fort Benning,” he said, and Leon’s brow furrowed. So the conversation wasn’t going to be about the beatings taken in those cells, but rather the one that he and the others had taken in defense of one another. “Got a call from Commander Cortez a few days back. Said you got into a fight. That you put twelve of his men in the hospital. That true?” 

That, too, seemed like a lifetime ago. Alenko was the one to nod and answer Krauser’s question. “Yes, sir.” He frowned as he spoke, the expression tugging at the splotches of blue and purple on his face. 

Krauser nodded once, his face set in stone. 

“Good,” he finally said, and Leon recognized veiled pride in his eyes. “Make sure you don’t end up in the hospital too, next time.” 

It was one of the few orders that Major Krauser had given in his time here that Leon agreed with. 

Of course, when the Major unclasped his hands and tossed what he’d been holding onto the bunk nearest him, Leon felt an entirely different wave of emotion sweep through him. The little radio rolled onto its back as it landed amidst the scratchy blankets, leaving a flash of recognition to cross Williams’ and Alenko’s faces as they saw it. The same radio that had been in Cortez’s office. The same one you’d somehow stolen for them, that you’d all been listening to on the ride home before everything went wrong. 

Krauser was giving it back to them. 

“And don’t make a habit of stealing from your Commanding Officers.” 

Leon might have laughed, under different circumstances. 

Instead, he found himself even more surprised as Krauser went on, this time looking towards Valeria. “Your letters,” he began, “they were from your mother?” Hellman must have told him, then. Or maybe Krauser had read the letters himself, after the fact. Leon hoped that wasn’t the case. He hoped he hadn’t read through Sherry’s letters before Leon even had the chance to. Still, he knew enough about the contents to ask.

Valeria’s mouth twitched down, and she nodded once in response, stiff and all too plainly upset. 

Krauser nodded too, and again Leon saw conflict in the Major’s face. Whatever combat his thoughts were doing, though, it was over quickly. “I’ll do what I can to get you clearance to write home. All of you.” 

That was all Krauser said . . . but just before he turned away, his eyes found Leon again. Fixed on him like crosshairs. The words spoken were all that were said, but Leon could see that Krauser had more to say. Something lurking just beneath the surface, unformed but sharp. Leon only glimpsed it for a moment, but it was there all the same. Leon almost didn’t care if the Major was angry, now though. Because even if he didn’t have a home to write to, really, he could write to Sherry. 

He might be able to tell her he was sorry for not answering her letters. To tell her he was okay, to make sure that she was alright too. 

So, whatever was behind the sharp look that he received now, Leon just met that sharpness with gratitude. He didn’t get much but a moment of that gaze losing its edge. Just a second or two, and then the moment was gone, and so was Major Krauser, moving down the rows of bunks. He hesitated as he neared Andersen, the older soldier sitting on the edge of his bunk, looking shell-shocked. 

Krauser looked down at him, his jaw tensing as he reached out a hand, patting the other man on the shoulder. 

Then, lifting his chin, he left the barracks. 

More silence followed, until at last, Williams spoke up. “Looks like Sarge was right about him being proud,” she muttered, watching as he stepped through the door. 

There was no doubt in Leon’s mind. Jack Krauser was an asshole. He had a sadistic streak. He liked to push people and he would never apologize for doing it. All of that was still true. 

But maybe you’d been right about more than just Krauser being proud of you all. 

“Do you buy it?” Alenko asked, looking over at Leon. “That he didn’t know about Reed and Hellman?” He didn’t sound overly skeptical. Just like he wanted to be sure. That he needed that one last opinion that reinforced his own. 

You had faith in the Major. Leon had criticized you for that, once. 

Now he understood it better. 

“He’s telling the truth,” Leon nodded, and he could have sworn he felt hell freeze over because he was defending Krauser of all people. “You saw how he reacted to . . .” to your injury. Leon had seen it up close and personal. The shock that mutated into rage. Rage enough to make Krauser nearly do something stupid. 

“Yeah,” Alenko conceded, knowing well enough what Leon was referring to. They’d all seen the concern the Major had for you. The regret he’d hidden poorly as he answered the questions today. He had not meant you all to come to harm. Not like that. 

Didn’t change the fact that you were still going to be hospitalized for who-knew-how-long. 

“Never seen him worried like that,” Williams nodded, shaking her head. 

“Never seen Sarge hurting like that either,” Alenko said, and tensed when he felt Valeria’s gaze turn on him. She was still feeling guilty, Leon could see it. Alenko could too, shutting his mouth when he realized he’d just reminded Valeria of what she’d inadvertently caused. 

Because Reed and Hellman had asked about the two of you specifically. That’s what Valeria had said last night, and those words had Leon on edge. That’s what made him worry even now that there was danger, even now that they were all free of those cells. 

You’d told him last night that you couldn’t risk him being there, and you hadn’t known how right you’d been. 

The two of you had been obvious with your care for one another. So, even if she’d given up information about you two being close, Leon didn’t blame Valeria for what happened. Even if it was clear that she blamed herself. 

Maybe that was why, after a moment, she reached for the radio that Krauser had left on the cot in front of her, and stood. “Come on then,” she said to the group, and her voice had more resolve in it than Leon had heard in a long while. 

“Where are you-”

“We weren’t the ones that stole the radio, right? And Sarge is gonna get a lot more use out of it than we are.” 

It was a day for looking past old angers, Leon found. He hadn’t liked Valeria much before the trip to Fort Benning. That had changed steadily while there. Now, though, as she marched off in an effort to try and alleviate your loneliness, whether to lessen her guilt or because she genuinely cared for you, Leon didn’t care. What mattered was the effort. It mattered that someone besides him cared enough to think of that before he could even voice it. 

And Leon, for the first time in the last few days, smiled. He didn’t hesitate as he stood alongside her, following her as she moved towards the door. It didn’t take long before Williams and Alenko were following along, too. 

⧫⧫⧫

As soon as you heard the knock on the door, you steeled yourself. 

You weren’t sure how you were going to tell Leon. Distancing yourself had been the first instinct. You were good at that. It would be easy. Well, not easy, but doable. You’d done it once before, after all. 

It had left you feeling like shit, and it hadn’t solved anything. 

You’d both promised to talk about what you were feeling. It was a promise you regretted now that it made things more difficult, but you wanted to honor it. You owed him that much. So, you’d torn your mind apart all morning trying to put together the right words. 

Krauser knows-

Reed and Hellman will be watching-

We can’t-

All of them seemed like bullshit, even if the concerns Krauser had raised were valid. Real. Just as the happiness that Leon Kennedy brought you was real, too. The most real thing you’d felt in months, besides that old and aching pain that you could never be rid of. Pain that was dulled and, sometimes, forgotten around the man you’d come to care for so much. The man you’d watched grow into a stronger person, inside and out. The man you would take a thousand hits for. 

You couldn’t just let that go. 

So when you heard that knock, you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do because Leon wouldn’t want to end this. Not now. And neither did you. 

The door opened and you found yourself speaking on instinct alone. “You shouldn’t be in here,” you repeated the words from the night before, not looking up from that spot on the floor you’d chosen as yours. 

And then you regretted not looking up as soon as you heard a smoky but strained voice reply. “Nice to see you too.” 

Your head snapped up and you pushed yourself up from bed, thanking the pain meds in your system for allowing the movement. Valeria didn’t wait to be invited in. Neither did any of the three people following her. Alenko and Williams gave you gentle, apologetic smiles as they followed the shorter woman in, and you felt your heart splinter because you’d thought to spend this day alone, like the last time. You thought you’d have to push Leon away the moment he stepped through the door, just for the sake of keeping up appearances. 

Instead, you found yourself looking at your squad mates with wide eyes. 

And when Leon did walk through the door, you felt that splintered heart break apart when he smiled at you. 

“Hey,” he greeted, and you knew this conversation was going to hurt. Both of you. 

But what conversation was it going to shape up to become? 

You didn’t know, and, as you looked at the four visitors in front of you, you decided that maybe you didn’t want to know, either. 

“Hey,” you said. “What are you all-”

“We got the day off,” Valeria answered. “Figured you could use the company.” 

“If you wanted it,” Leon added, giving you an understanding look. 

You’d been alone during your recovery from Finland. Krauser had checked in on you when he could, but he had a life and duties to attend to. The nurses that pitied you had made for shitty companions. Not that you’d wanted anyone, anyway. Solitude. That had been your companion and your shield. You’d thought just Leon had the ability to break down that barricade around you. 

You’d been wrong. 

It wasn’t quite a smile that you gave the group as you nodded, but it was close enough. “Okay.” 

That surprise and that slight smile only grew as Valeria held out her arm and presented you with none other than the little radio you’d stolen from Cortez’s office. “Think you’re missing this, too.” 

You weren’t sure what to think as you took the radio from her. Valeria seldom did anything without cause. What was her reasoning for this? For being, well, downright kind to you? You didn’t know, and, honestly? In that moment, when you had been so sure you’d been condemned to isolation in every possible way, you decided that you didn’t care, either. 

So, you settled the radio between your hands, fighting back the new kind of pain in your chest. One not born of your cracked ribs or the fear that Krauser’s words had instilled in you. 

This pain was sweeter. One you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, looking from Valeria, to Leon, and then the rest. 

Valeria just shrugged. “You’re no fun when you’re miserable. So pick a station and let’s fucking relax for once.” 

You couldn’t really argue with that, so you flipped switches and dials until you heard a synth beat and vocals you hadn’t heard in so long. A song from another life. 

“. . . there’s no turning back.”

“Even while we sleep . . .”

“Shit,” Alenko smiled wide as he took a seat a ways away from the bed you sat in. “I love this song!”

Williams just nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall. “Least it’s not the Spice Girls,” she mumbled over her split lip before she looked over at the rest of you who, back in the Humvee, had made her sit through one of their songs. It seemed her opinion of them hadn’t improved. “Respectfully, they’re shit.” The near-apology was delivered with a near-smile to match. 

“Well, Williams,” you found yourself saying, even if your words were muted by the ordeal you’d just been through. Still, there was something familiar there. Something you’d rediscovered at Fort Benning, and were glad to find at your fingertips now; humor. That was what ever-so-slightly colored your words as you told Williams, “ respectfully, go fuck yourself.” 

An Army brat like you, Williams just smirked right back. 

“Help me make the-”

“Most of freedom and of pleasure-”

“Nothing ever lasts forever . . .” 

It made it easier, having them there. There weren’t many words, but there didn’t need to be. You all just listened to the song as it played, finding a comfortable state of quiet between each other. Valeria moved to lean against the wall by Williams’ side. Leon . . . you could tell he wanted to move closer to you. You wanted that too. You wanted it to be just the two of you, like in the hospital in Fort Benning, but Krauser’s warning hung over your head. 

“There’s a room where the light won’t find you-”

“Holding hands as the walls come tumbling down-”

“When they do, I’ll be right behind you . . .”

Being alone with him was dangerous, more so now than it ever had been. That didn’t change simply because you wanted his presence or company. Your desire for him wouldn’t be pitied in a court martial. Not if Reed and Hellman were already looking at you like an infected limb that needed to be cut away.

You needed to heal, and Leon needed to finish this training. You both did. You’d just never thought it would be apart. 

“So glad we almost made it . . .”

So . . . you would be alone with him one more time. At least for a while. 

“So sad they had to fade it . . .”

You hoped he would understand that this was for the best, for now. 

The song eventually finished and you looked up to meet his eyes. You’d learned to speak without words to each other, now. So many stolen glances and nights spent side by side, in training or with him pressed up against the wall of the mess hall, you had a language all your own. Insight into each other’s thoughts. And as you looked into those ocean blues, you saw your own thoughts reflected back at you. 

There was a talk to be had, and both of you knew it. 

⧫⧫⧫

The day went on and eventually the others left. Alenko was first, saying he was going to go in search of food. Had to be desperate, to want what the mess hall served, but Leon didn’t begrudge him. The hunger of those three days had left them all empty just as much as the rest of the experience had. 

Williams went next, saying she needed to move, to make up for those days spent in captivity. Valeria didn’t take much convincing when asked to join her.

Leon almost told them to be careful. To not let the agents see them. 

To not end up in the predicament that the two of you were in. 

A situation that became clear and present, once the two of you were left alone, the radio playing on. 

“How are you feeling?” He knew what the answer would be, but he asked anyway.

“They gave me pain meds,” you shrugged as best you could, “so not that bad right now.” 

At least there was that. Even if you shouldn’t have had to be in the infirmary in the first place. “Have they told you how long you’ll be on bed rest?” Leon asked, because he didn’t want to have the other conversation. Not yet. 

The mirth that had been present on your face, however muted, faded. “It was a six week recovery last time. For the bones.” 

“Six?” The number sounded so much worse than what Leon had imagined. He remembered his own long recovery from the gunshot wound he’d suffered in Raccoon City. It had seemed long then, but he hadn’t been kept from anything. It hadn’t stopped him from living his life. Not that he’d done much living after that night anyway. Still, he couldn’t imagine what this was like to you, because it would be six weeks without physical training. Six weeks without sparring, without being able to clear your head in the way Leon knew you would need. Six weeks of what would be hell to you. 

And if you couldn’t train for combat like the rest of them . . . would you be able to graduate with the rest? With him? 

“You need to keep practicing,” you told him, and by the stiffness of your words, Leon could tell that you were thinking of exactly what he was thinking of. It sounded like you were telling him to go on without you. “Train with the others, but ask Krauser to spar too. He’s the best. He’ll kick your ass, but he’ll make you better.”

“You say that like you’re not gonna-”

“I’m not gonna be able to spar with you, Leon. Not for a while. I’m not gonna be there. You can’t let yourself fall behind with me.” 

The words, while well intentioned, were painful to hear aloud. True, but painful because after months of training with you, he couldn’t imagine not being by your side. He didn’t want to have to train for hell on earth and not know that you would be there to face it with him. 

But you were right. 

As unfair as it was, as completely and utterly shitty, you were right. 

“Okay,” he nodded. “But then when you’re better, we’ll catch you back up.” Because he knew you would need it. He knew you’d want it, too. That after so long letting your body heal, you would want nothing more than to throw yourself back into the swing of things. 

The trouble was-

“Leon . . .” you shook your head, and he knew that the conversation he’d dreaded was here. “Krauser knows.” 

Just like that, the color drained from his face. You’d never been one to beat around the bush, but those words were like being doused in ice water.

“About . . .”

“Us.” 

He felt a pit open up in his stomach that threatened to turn him inside-out, and all he could do was sit on the bed beside you. The jaws were closing in. Had that been the cause of that look from Krauser earlier? Had the Major been looking at him with such disdain because of that?

“. . . Fuck.” It was really all he could say. Why even warn you about Reed and Hellman if the game was already over . . .

“He’s not going to report it.” 

. . . or maybe not as over as Leon had thought. 

“What?” he blinked, turning to look at you without bothering to hide his confusion. Major Krauser hadn’t exactly been by the books, as far as Leon knew, but he’d been so adamant about respecting the order of things. This whole mess had happened because he’d not wanted to step outside the bounds of red tape. Why the hell hadn’t he reported fraternization? 

“Said he doesn’t care. But he also said that Reed and Hellman will.” 

Leon nodded, trying to reconcile all the mismatched thoughts and solutions buzzing around his mind. 

“So he’s saying he won’t stop us but if we get found out we’re fucked.” 

You just nodded, the air growing heavier and heavier with each moment. Because Leon knew where this was going, just as much as you did. 

Leon pursed his lips, looking down. “They asked about us during the interrogations,” he finally said. “Reed and Hellman. Valeria told me they were asking.” 

It was your turn to frown, he could see it out of the corner of his eyes. He wouldn’t rat Valeria out, but you deserved to know that the agents were onto you, even if Krauser wouldn’t be the one to confirm it.

Why wouldn’t he confirm it?

“Then they’ll be watching.” 

Leon nodded once, feeling emptiness beginning to set in. “So what do you want to do?” he asked, dreading the answer because he’d heard the distance in your voice last night, and he could hear it even then. He’d heard it once before, after you’d kissed him that first night and tried to convince yourself and him that it was a mistake. 

The difference was that, then, he’d seen that emptiness in your eyes, too. He’d seen you retreating into yourself. 

He knew you well enough now to know that the look that he saw in your eyes didn’t match the attempt at distance in your voice. Because, as you turned your gaze up towards him, Leon could see only conflict. Only you, a casualty of the crossfire between what your mind had to be telling you and what your heart wanted. When you answered, that conflict was all the more apparent. “You know what I want. But we have to be smart about this. Because if Krauser knows - and has for months now - then Reed and Hellman will pick up on it too, and they’re already gunning to cut me for this shit,” you gestured down to your ribs, and Leon swore he heard your voice waver.  

“They wanted me out, too,” Leon admitted, and he watched some fear seep into your expression. “Krauser convinced them to let me stay.” 

And again, Leon found himself wondering why?

“They wanted . . . why?” you asked. Why they’d wanted Leon gone - that’s what you were asking about. 

“Because I broke,” he admitted, his voice hushed. Not ashamed, but overwhelmed by other emotions. “When they were hurting you, I had to get them to stop. So I was going to tell them what they wanted to know. Right before Krauser got there.” 

You looked at him then, silent, your eyes piercing his own. Searching and seeing straight through him, just as you always had. 

You had suffered on account of him. It was the last thing he ever wanted for you, but you’d endured it. You’d taken pain for him, in fights and behind bars, and you’d been taking pain from him for far longer. With your company, with your touch. You’d helped each other learn to walk again. It was what had made him fall in love with you, even if it had been something that happened to him at the end of your knife. 

He loved you. So, he made a decision. 

“Look,” he went on, turning to face you more, feeling something in him building. A resolve or a desperate hope, he wasn’t sure. “I’ll focus on training. I’ll work with Krauser, I’ll . . . I’ll only visit you with the others, if you think it’ll be less suspicious. But I’m not leaving you here by yourself. I’m not letting go of this. I can’t do that. Not if you don’t want to let go, either.” 

He watched you, feeling emotion overtaking him. Bearing down on him, nearly making him shake because it had all been too much. Raccoon City. STRATCOM. All the hurts he’d suffered - that you’d suffered - and the best thing to come from it all had been this. You. 

So, his throat constricting, he hoped that you felt the same way. 

For a moment, he worried, because you were staring at him like he was something you could never have. He saw the regret in your eyes, the tension in your body, like you were bracing for some great pain. It all faded, though, and the corners of your mouth turned up just a bit. The dark of night graying as the sun tried to appear once more. 

It was all the warning he had before your lips were on his, and Leon felt the resolve he’d built up for months, the guard he’d put around himself in that prison, crumble. Emotion and relief flooded him, and his hand shook a bit as he lifted it to your face. It was different from the kisses the two of you had stolen in the shadows. Different than the sweet one he’d given you in the hospital at Fort Benning. This was all longing. Wordless in its declaration. He held you gently, no longer needing to memorize the feel of you but trying to hold on to every detail anyway. 

Because he didn’t know when he’d next get the chance to kiss you. Or hold you. Or be with you the way he wanted. 

But he wasn’t letting go. 

“I don’t want to let go, either,” you told him, your lips against his. “I don’t know when we’ll be able to-”

“Neither do I,” Leon admitted, as the words tore at him. “But . . . we’ll find a way.” 

He had to believe that. 

He had to believe that this wedge being driven between the two of you wouldn’t change what he felt. And to that end, he would watch. He would find moments of safety for the two of you, he would learn to play the spy game if it meant he could steal a few heartbeats with you. He’d wait for those moments, and he’d wait for you. 

However long it took. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

[petermorwood]

YA or not YA, that is the question...

This started out as a response to Diane’s post here about YA literature and its long history prior to what some people think inspired it, but got longer (Oh! What a surprise!) and wandered far enough from the initial subject that I decided to post separately.

So here it is.

*****

Many years ago my town library (in Northern Ireland, so following UK library practice, I suppose) had just two sections, Adult and Children. There was no YA section, and the Children’s section covered everything from large-format picture books through to hardback novels and the usual amount of non-fiction.

(Library books were almost always bought in hardback for better wear, and even the softback picture books were rebound with heavy card inserts.)

There were classics like “Treasure Island”,  “Kidnapped”, “King Solomon’s Mines” “Under the Red Robe” and “The Jungle Books”.

There were standalone titles like “The Otterbury Incident”, “The Silver Sword”, “The Sword in the Stone” and “The Stone Cage”.

There were series about characters like William, Biggles, Jennings and his counterpart Molesworth, the Moomins, Narnia and Uncle.

There were authors like Alan Garner, Nicholas Stuart Grey, Rosemary Sutcliffe, Henry Treece, Ronald Welch… And of course there was J.R.R. Tolkien.

The first time I got "The Hobbit", "Farmer Giles of Ham" and "Smith of Wootton Major" they were shelved in the Children's section. This was about 1968-69.

In the early 1970s the library moved to larger premises, which allowed room for Very Young Children (where the picture books now lived) and Children (everything else), still with no YA section, though with more advanced picture books like “Tintin” and “Asterix” * in a sort of no-man’s-land between them.

( * These included editions in the original French, which turned out very useful for making language lessons at school a bit more fun and gaining extra marks in exams through judiciously enhanced vocabulary.)

“The Hobbit” et cetera were still on the Children shelves, but now that the library was larger and more open-plan, volumes of "The Lord of The Rings", normally in the Adult section, occasionally got shelved there as well by well-meaning non-staff people.

I never saw “The Hobbit” mis-shelved alongside “Lord of the Rings” among the Adults, but Farmer Giles” and “Smith” sometimes turned up there, courtesy of those same well-meaning hands.

It’s probably because the first, with its sometimes complex wordplay and mock-heroic plot, reads like a humorous parody of more serious works, while the second, if read in the right frame of mind, can seem quite adult in the style of Sylvia Townsend Warner’s “Kingdoms of Elfin” - which is in fact a good deal more adult than “Smith of Wootton Major”, even if you squint.

*****

This “Hobbit” / “Rings” confusion is a lightweight version of assuming a particular author writes every book for the same age-group. This is very much not the case.

Sometimes the thickness of the book is a giveaway. Compare, for instance, @neil-gaiman’s “American Gods” with “Coraline” or indeed “Fortunately, The Milk”.

Sometimes the cover is a hint, for example the difference between “Live and Let Die” by Ian Fleming...

...and “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, also by Ian Fleming...

...although the original James Bond novels are – apart from some extremely dated attitudes – a lot more weaksauce than many YA books nowadays.

(More weaksauce still now that Fleming, like Roald Dahl and Agatha Christie, has been censored to conceal the extent to which - let's call them Certain Attitudes - were a standard feature in British popular fiction. Apparently (I haven't read any Newspeak Bond so can't confirm) the redaction was done in a curiously slapdash way, removing some things while leaving others.

These novels have become, IMO anyway, period pieces as much as Kipling, Doyle, Dickens and Austen, and erasure probably has less to do with sensitivity - maybe with some "brush it under the rug and they'll forget about it" involved - than with keeping them marketable, so Fleming doesn't go the way of other once-bestselling writers like "Sapper" and Sydney Horler.)

It would also be a mistake, despite advisory wizards Tom and Carl, to think that @dduane’s “Young Wizards” books are meant for the same age-group as her “Middle Kingdoms” series – although, once again, the later YW books and all of the MK slot into what a modern YA audience expects from its fiction.

But sometimes there’s absolutely no doubt that This Book by This Author is not meant for the readership of That Book by The Same Author. I’m thinking of one example which caused a certain amount of amusement.

“Bee Hunter” by Robert Nye is a retelling of the Beowulf story for children, though IIRC occasional bloody episodes as Grendel takes Hrothgar’s housecarls apart make it more suited to older children. 

I’d brought home a copy from the library when much younger, and borrowed it again years later in company with another Nye novel, “Falstaff”...

...which was poetic, historic, melancholic, often bawdy, frequently funny and at all times most emphatically NOT for children, as indicated by some of these chapter headings - I draw your attention to XX, XXII, XXXII and especially XL... ;->

Yes. Quite... :->

*****

I was familiar with card index systems from quite early in my life, because my grandfather’s grocer’s shop had a fairly simple one for keeping track of customers, suppliers, stock and so forth, and since the library’s index card system cross-referenced in the same way, I was already home and dry.

If I could remember a title, I'd find the author, and once found I could track down other titles by that author (which, as shown above, can be educational...) Even if I could only remember the subject - historical, adventure, comedy - I'd still have narrowed my search window more than somewhat.

(This from-here-to-there mindset later became virtual train travel by way of the electronic timetables which SBB – Swiss Railways – used to issue on CD, and which let me “travel” anywhere in Europe, complete with a map. Those CDs are long discontinued, but I can still do virtual travel courtesy of the SBB website. Complete with a map…)

This is the last one we got, kept for sentimental reasons and occasional outdated train-travel on an equally outdated XP netbook.

As you do.

Or as I do, anyway. :->

*****

I also knew about title request cards and interlibrary loans, and was a frequent user - never more so than when I started reading “The Lord of the Rings” for the first time.

The town library didn’t have all three volumes, just “The Fellowship of the Ring” and “The Two Towers”, so I checked them out on a Friday to read over the weekend.

You can already see where this is going… :->

I finished “Fellowship” late on Saturday afternoon, went straight into “Towers” and by Sunday evening was all of a twitter (no, not that one) or as my mum would have said, up to high Doh, as I fretted about Not Knowing What Happened Next.

Fortunately school was no more than a brisk bike ride from the library, so I devoted my Monday morning break to zooming down and filling in one of the most urgent title requests I’ve ever made, then spent the rest of the week on tenterhooks, looking in every lunchtime and each afternoon on my way home.

Just In Case.

Some kindly librarian must have pulled strings or stamped the request "Expedite Soonest", because when I went back to school after Thursday lunch, I had “The Return of the King” burning a hole in my saddlebag.

I wanted to start reading it at once, but good sense prevailed; imagine getting caught between chapters at the back of a boring Geography lesson and Having The Book Confiscated…

I didn’t pay much attention in class on Friday, due to being half-asleep after starting “Return” in the evening after prep and finishing it in the wee hours of the morning.

But being tired didn’t prevent me from starting with “Fellowship” again on Friday night, and this time being able to read right through to the end without needing to stop.

It Was Great…

[abisbookcase]

100+ songs that remind me of kiribaku/bakushima: the ship between eijiro kirishima + katsuki bakugo from my hero academia (anime)

best friend - rex orange county

sunflower - rex orange county

just a friend - jordi

pluto projector - rex orange county

i love you so - the walters

falling for ya - from the "teen beach movie" - grace phipps

line without a hook - ricky montgomery

mr. loverman - ricky montgomery

the only exception - paramore

devil town - cavetown

falling for u - peachy! & mxmtoon

best friend - laufey

let me down slowly - alec benjamin

anxiety - blackbear & FRND

training wheels - melanie martinez

like or like like - miniature tigers

would you be so kind - dodie

i like me better - lauv

nothing - bruno major

paper rings - taylor swift

puppy princess - hot freaks

i wanna be your boyfriend - hot freaks

let's fall in love for the night - FINNEAS

every summertime - NIKI

cloud 9 - beach bunny

wish you were gay - billie eilish

wish you were sober - conan gray

the king - conan gray

sports - beach bunny

say you won't let go - james arthur

fight or flight - conan gray

are you bored yet? - wallows & clairo

heather - conan gray

cruel summer - taylor swift

comfort crowd - conan gray

lemon boy - cavetown

apocalypse - cigarettes after sex

can i call you tonight? - dayglow

this is home - cavetown

everybody talks - neon trees

someone to you - BANNERS

i love you - billie eilish

this side of paradise - coyote theory

mystery of love - sufjan stevens

always forever - cults

silence - marshmello & khalid

safe & sound (taylor's version) - taylor swift, joy williams & john paul white

safe and sound - capital cities

sweet tooth - cavetown

astronomy - conan gray

me and my husband - mitski

my love mine all mine - mitski

as the world caves in - sarah cothran

strawberries & cigarettes - troye sivan

pierre - ryn weaver

eyes closed - ed sheeran

perfect - ed sheeran

photograph - ed sheeran

can't help falling in love - elvis presley

talk to me - cavetown

we fell in love in october - girl in red

hey there delilah - plain white t's

crush culture - conan gray

for him. - troye sivan & allday

make you mine - PUBLIC

loving is easy - rex orange county & benny sings

i hear a symphony - cody fry

daylight - taylor swift

wildest dreams (taylor's version) - taylor swift

juliet - cavetown

this is what falling in love feels like - JVKE

this is what heartbreak feels like - JVKE

what was i made for? - from "barbie" - billie eilish

reflections - the neighbourhood

oh no! - MARINA

cabo - ricky montgomery

partners in crime - set it off & ash costello

it took me by surprise - maria mena

seventeen - MARINA

this december - ricky montgomery

never ever getting rid of me - waitress original broadway cast

guys dont like me - it boys!

deja vu - olivia rodrigo

drivers license - olivia rodrigo

1 step forward, 3 steps back - olivia rodrigo

bad idea right? - olivia rodrigo

teenage dream - olivia rodrigo

meant to be yours - ryan mccartan, barrett wilbert weed & michelle duffy

verbatim - mother mother

lovers rock - TV girl

lover - taylor swift

freaks - surf curse

electric love - BØRNS

sure thing - miguel

ribs - lorde

sofia - clairo

boys will be bugs - cavetown

i wanna be your girlfriend - girl in red

people watching - conan gray

as the world caves in - matt maltese

two birds - regina spektor

i can't handle change - roar

cardigan - taylor swift

pretty boy - the neighbourhood

cigarette daydreams - cage the elephant

history hates lovers - oublaire

numb little bug - em beihold

where's my love - SYML

dark red - steve lacy

heart to heart - mac demarco

chamber of reflection - mac demarco

for the first time - mac demarco

my kind of woman - mac demarco

kids - current joys

christmas kids - roar

10 things i hate about you - leah kate

boyfriend - dove cameron

my blood - twenty one pilots

my blood - ellie goulding

drumming song - florence + the machine

you belong with me (taylor's version) - taylor swift

sparks fly (taylor's version) - taylor swift

enchanted (taylor's version) - taylor swift

i knew you were trouble (taylor's version) - taylor swift

all too well (10 minute version - taylor's version) - taylor swift

don't blame me - taylor swift

gorgeous - taylor swift

bags - clairo

open arms - SZA & travis scott

all i wanted - paramore

the great war - taylor swift

i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

afterglow - taylor swift

you get me so high - the neighbourhood

runaway runaway - lullaby layla & keevin

the night we met - lord huron

watercolor eyes - from "euphoria" - lana del rey

late night talking - harry styles

shameless - camila cabello

those eyes - new west

here with me - d4vd

golden hour - JVKE

what a time - julia michaels & niall horan

we belong together - ritchie valens

can't take my eyes off you - frankie valli

i like you (a happier song) - post malone & doja cat

sweater weather - the neighbourhood

K. - cigarettes after sex

out of my league - fitz and the tantrums

until i found you - stephen sanchez & em beihold

loverboy - a-wall

set fire to the rain - adele

mrs magic - strawberry guy

je te laisserai des mots - patrick watson

rises the moon - liana flores

last dance - scratch massive & maud geffray

crush - cigarettes after sex

trust fund baby - why don't we

hooked - why don't we

jenny (i wanna ruin our friendship) - studio killers

not another song about love - hollywood ending

the red means i love you - madds buckley

i won't say (i'm in love) - disney cast from "hercules"

first love/late spring - mitski

love grows (where my rosemary goes) - edison lighthouse

stereo hearts - gym class heroes & adam levine

did i mention - cast from "descendants"

bad romance - lady gaga

sunsetz - cigarettes after sex

still into you - paramore

i kissed a boy - jupither

bang bang (new version) - K'NAAN & adam levine

dress - taylor swift

midnight rain - taylor swift

baby i'm yours - arctic monkeys

falling - chase atlantic

say yes to heaven - lana del rey

cry - cigarettes after sex

sweet - cigarettes after sex

my type - saint motel

they don't know about us - one direction

something just like this - the chainsmokers & coldplay

no one compares to you - jack & jack

yellow hearts - ant saunders

if we have each other - alec benjamin

hey stupid, i love you - JP saxe

if i saw him, i'd still kiss him - mccafferty

i love you like an alcoholic - the taxpayers

i am falling for you - loving caliber

dream boy - waterparks

disaster - conan gray

@ my worst - blackbear

golden - harry styles

start a riot - BANNERS

i love you - woodkid

maniac - conan gray

there is more in the spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/08jACx5UDxnojbTv4I5NR0

if you have any other recommendations for songs please let me know and they will go straight into the playlist. also, please don't be disrespectful and this is a reminder that these are my opinions, i hope that you enjoy the playlist!! ❤️🧡💋

[moviemunchies]

Both critics and audiences loved this movie, though it didn’t do as well as hoped (even though it wasn’t a complete flop) because it ran against the unexpected juggernaut that was The Fault in Our Stars.

Anyway! I thought it was about time that I saw this movie.

Edge of Tomorrow is Groundhog Day but in a war against an alien invasion. There, I saved some time.

Or…. okay, so it goes like this: the world is invaded by seemingly unstoppable aliens called mimics, who quickly take over continental Europe. The war is not going well. Major William Cage works for the military, but only as a guy promoting recruitment. When he’s sent towards the front during an assault across the English Channel, he tries to weasel out of it. It doesn’t work! He’s sent back as a private, and promptly gets killed.

Except then he wakes up at the beginning of the previous day. He’s stuck in a time loop! And he gets killed in battle repeatedly, until a run-in with war hero Rita Vrataski, the Angel of Verdun. She tells him to find her when he wakes up. He does so, and discovers that Rita has also previously went through a time loop, which is how she got so good at killing Mimics. She’s hoping to guide him and end the war once and for all.

Once again, I am not familiar with the source material, a Japanese novel called All You Need Is Kill.

I believe I have reviewed two other time-loop movies on this blog? I’ve done Palm Springs and Groundhog Day. And all of them have different takes on the idea: one is a comedy about a reporter in a small town, another is set during a wedding weekend, and this one is in a war with aliens. Or, in short, it’s an action movie. And DANG is it good as an action movie. Lots of shooting, explosions, and our heroes fighting their way through hordes of enemies. The time-loop bit makes it feel a lot like a video game, especially with areas that you can’t quite get past because you don’t know how to beat certain enemies.

[The Librarians has an episode like this, I think? The video game concept?]

Of course, the makers of the film had the sense to realize that we didn’t have to see every single cycle of the loop. When we come across situations that are new to us, we are often surprised to learn that they’re not new to Cage, who has only gotten this far in the previous scenario. Watching the same attempts over and over again would be really grating, and would make the entire film really tiring to watch, in the same way that getting killed over and over again at the same part of a video game is incredibly annoying to go through.

And Cage is clearly very frustrated by his situation, especially bonding with Rita and seeing her fail over and over again, often in death. Which makes an interesting dynamic, because on her end, she’s only known him for about a day, whereas Cage has to go through this several dozen times. I’m not thrilled with the notion that this would lead to romance, which the ending suggests, but it’s also not wildly out there.

I do understand that watchers may be annoyed that this might feel, once again, like that action movie trope of a woman who is incredibly capable, but doesn’t get to be the hero and has to guide a man to that place. It’s not like Rita is a nobody in this movie, though, she does contribute quite a bit to the action throughout. YMMV on whether she still should have been the hero, though.

[This movie did re-jump start Emily Blunt’s career, though. She was going to really get going in the Marvel Cinematic Universe as Black Widow, but had to pass because contractual obligations made her star in… Gulliver’s Travels. She got back in the action game with this movie, though.]

A problem this movie definitely has, though, is that I have no idea how Mimics work. Like, we get explanations on how they’re directed and led, but I mean… why are they called ‘Mimics’? And given how their bodies look, why does shooting them (albeit, shooting them a lot) seem to work? I wish we got a better grasp of what these aliens were like before the action really got started.

Edge of Tomorrow is, in my opinion, a darn good action movie. It’s also a demonstration of the kinds of cool things you can do with time loops, and science-fiction films in general. If you like action and science-fiction, you should try out this movie for the way it cleverly utilizes the time loop concept.

[celisconfused]

The Bird-Locker-Room (aka. La Locker Room Aux Folles)

Having just rewatched The Birdcage in preparation, I am now ready to wildly speculate about how Ted Lasso episode 9 could parallel Folles. We have 3 confirmed queer main characters and 3 directions this can go. I could see each of these options happening individually or I could see some combination of them.

Side note: if you are in the US (or have a VPN) The Birdcage (1996) is currently free with ads on youtube.

Also for those who don't know, this weeks episode title "La Locker Room Aux Folles" is a reference to La Cage Aux Folles, a french musical with songs in the show's soundtrack. It was then adapted into the movie The Birdcage with Robin Williams.

Here are what I see as the essential elements of La Cage/Birdcage:

An elaborate scheme to overcompensate and hide one's sexuality

Well meaning character asks gay character to act straight

Media Circus

Drag (the fourth element of Total Football is Drag :) )

Option 1: Colin Hughes

Obviously, we know that Colin's plot line is going to play in the next episode. It's in the first line of the episode summary. Here are the ways I could see that playing out. Many of these I don't want to see happen but I am saying they could.

Colin concocts some kind of elaborate rouse in order to try to convince Issac that he is straight and those photos of men were just a joke

Issac asks Colin to be more careful in order to protect the reputation of the team

Issac takes Colin to a drag show to be supportive but the press show up

Some kind of interaction with a conservative politician. Could mirror Sam's experiences and change Colin's mind about wanting not wanting to be a representative for the queer community

Michael. Just think he's going to be involved

Option 2: Trent Crimm

Realistically, I think it is likely that Trent plays into this next episode mainly as an accessory of Colin's story. That said there is the opportunity here for a B plot that mirrors Colin's A plot.

Trent attempts to play off a boyfriend as a friend around the club (similar to how Colin introduced Michael in Episode 3)

Trent finds ways to subvert the media circus or throw off the trope. Think of this as: what the Birdcage might have been like if the reporters were gay and wanted to respect everyone's privacy

Less likely but what all the Tedependent girlies (ungendered) want, fake dating trope

Option 3: Keeley Jones

I don't think Keeley is going to play a major role in this episode simply because we have seen so much of her in the last 2 episodes. Typically we don't see the show focus on one character (other than Ted) for 3 episodes in a row.

Keeley as publicist could be involved in the media circus and/or subverting the media circus

Other wild connections to Ted Lasso that I made while watching the movie:

The Fiance and her family have the last name Keeley

Agador trying to wear dress shoes reminds me of Dani at the funeral

Armand's mustache and a certain other mustached protagonist

Things I'm hopeful about:

Jokes. One of the strengths of The Birdcage is that it is a comedy. It takes a very serious topic like coming out and makes it appealing to a broader audience by making it funny. I'm going to call it now, this episode is going to get backlash. By cutting it with jokes like they did in the Birdcage/La Cage, the reception might be better.

This being an extremely homosexual episode

Things I'm nervous about:

To many jokes. They are walking a line. We all know it.

Not enough drag. It's such an important part of the original but I can't see it happening in Ted Lasso

The fact that my mom is in town and will be watching with me

[aydaptic]

Saw you saying that Nines is "canonically the exact opposite of Connor." and I'm really curious about where that's said? I looked up the scene where we see the RK900 and looked up a picture of him in the gallery. Isn't he just an upgraded version rather than an exact opposite?

Although I've answered this question before -- here and here -- not everyone has the time to go through my "Q&A" tag, so I'll repeat myself.

It's been canonically confirmed by the writers Adam Williams and David Cage in a QD Twitch livestream that Niner is canonically "not likable, not sweet, but intimidating and scary" as well as "a bad guy." Anyone who fits those criteria is the logical/common sensical opposite of Con.

Connor RK800 -51 is "likable" (to the vast majority, but not me)

Connor RK800 -51 is "sweet"

Connor RK800 -51 is "not intimidating and scary"

...and again, before anyone says that Con "is only these things bc the player decides it," no. Con makes decisions/acts a certain way, etc. independent of the players' input that supports all these claims.

As much as ppl like to think they shape Con's personality, at its core, they simply embrace/renounce it bc he's an already defined character. Just like Kara and Markus. They all have pre-existing personalities that can't be changed bc they're integral to who they are as individuals.

[galleryofart]

Songs Without Words

Artist: John William Godward (Brittish, 1861-1922)

Date: 1919

Style: Neoclassicism

Medium Pencil, Watercolor, Paper

Collection: Private Collection

Description

John William Godward was a shy and reclusive artist, which has resulted in something of a dearth of information concerning his life and works. He belonged to the second generation of classical painters who followed in the footsteps of Frederic, Lord Leighton and Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema and is now recognised as one of the major neo-classicists, a painter of considerable technical skill with an immediately recognisable aesthetic. Song without Words dates from what Professor Vern Swanson has termed Godward's ‘Middle Roman Years’. Godward moved to Rome in 1912, and would spend nearly 10 years there before returning to London in 1921, a year before his death. Both the Italian climate and the ever-present historic heritage of the Eternal City served as an inspiration for the backdrops of the artist’s Greco-Roman images, which frequently depict a single female figure in classical dress set against a Mediterranean view or within a classical interior.

Song without Words belongs to a series of similar compositions in which the figure is seated on a marble bench with a calm blue sea behind her forming a stark horizon. The beautiful girl, in her striking orange gown, holds a flute in both hands. Her impulse to play has been halted by the captivating song of the small caged meadowlark, whose voice is implicitly of such beauty that it requires no real accompaniment. A watercolour version of the subject appeared in 1919. The paintings created while the artist was in Rome are among the most iconic examples of his style, and all convey a feeling of serenity which transports the viewer to another time and place.