#EGGS AND BACON BAY

[jctko]

i will never make fun of an indigenous australian name. Mount Disappointment, on the other hand...

[cunthq]

always the people that live ages away selling the stuff i want

[uniivrz]

mic'd up

katie mccabe x reader

+ summary: reader, still on the acl squad, has been approached by the arsenal media staff asking if she'd go mic'd up in the stands for one of arsenal's games.

+ warnings: ACL injury mentions right off the bat. swearing. made up game (arsenal v tottenham). reader really embracing the WAG life.

a/n: i came across a video of katie during one of the covid matches, and due to the empty stadium you could hear everything she said— and that's where i got this idea :) my first post, hope you enjoy!

like any other football player, you hated the dreaded three letters that would take whoever was the unlucky soul out of the game for a long while.

of course it had always been a fear in the back of your mind, you just never thought it would actually happen to you.

that day you went down on the pitch had been one of the worst. not just for you, but for katie as well as the rest of your arsenal team.

everything had been fine. arsenal was up by two, and half time had just ended. it was around the 52nd minute, when a purposely bad tackle from a chelsea player left you on the ground, clutching your knee as you attempted to keep the tears at bay. (only to fail).

some time later you were holed up in one of the physio rooms of the stadium, when katie came in, the look on your face confirming her worst fear.

honestly, it was getting quite scary how many arsenal players were getting ACL injuries.

she had been by your side for all of it, constantly making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed, as well as driving you to and from appointments.

the downside meant you weren't able to travel with the team for away games, forcing yourself to be holed up in your flat you shared with katie— often inviting the rest of the ACL squad over to watch the game together, knowing you'd be insufferable on your own.

luckily for you, today was a home game. you woke up before katie that morning, hobbling down the stairs on your good leg, (and nearly eating shit in the process), you'd prepared her a proper breakfast, consisting of pancakes, bacon, & eggs.

the brunette soon appeared in the kitchen behind your unsuspecting frame, an adoring smile crossing her face at the sight of you lightly nodding your head to whatever song came from the speaker on the marble counter.

nearly jumping out of your skin at the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, your body relaxed as you registered the familiar feeling of katie, her arms clad in her arsenal training jacket.

you leaned into her touch as you finished up with the bacon, her thick irish accent rang through your ears as her nose brushed against your neck gently. "you should not be on your feet,"

rolling your eyes fondly, you forced yourself to suppress a smile. ever since your injury, katie had been treating you as if you were a porcelain doll— going to break at the slightest touch.

while sometimes it became a little overbearing, it warmed your heart for her to be this protecting with you, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"i was cleared to walk without my crutches, katie," your giggled, relishing in the ticklish feeling of her light breathing against the back of your neck.

"still. ya should have waited for me." she murmured. "i could have carried you down here."

you rolled your eyes once again.

for the first few weeks/months of your injury, she had insisted on carrying you everywhere. from the bed to downstairs, from the front door to the car. no matter where it was— she wanted to carry you. wether it was bridal style, your legs wrapped around her waist, or giving you a piggy back, she didn't care.

after breakfast was finished, you rushed back up to change. you settled on one of katie's hoodie's, along with her jersey which you threw on top, and a pair of her sweatpants. nearly everything you wore was hers.

when you'd returned downstairs, she grinned widely at the sight of you dressed in her attire, and couldn't restrain herself from letting her hands roam your body as you shoved your feet into some sneakers.

"oi hands off, mccabe."

the ireland captain chuckled, tapping your rear end before you stood back up, sending you a cheeky wink when you glared at her.

arriving at the emirates with your personal chauffeur, the two of you made your way through the grounds, greeting any staff members you'd passed by and waving to the media staff as you each made your way toward your separate destinations.

you had a brief session with a physio to assure everything was still fine and dandy with your knee, whereas katie was heading off toward the locker room with the others.

as you left your meeting 15-ish minutes later, you had been wandering the halls when you were stopped by one of the media staff, claiming they had a task for you.

since you were going to be in the stands again, they had asked if you would go mic'd up, thinking it'd be a fun video idea for arsenal's youtube channel.

you agreed quickly, thrilled at the idea. they had informed you that there would be a camera a little ways away from you, to capture your reactions in both your voice as well as your actions.

one of the members clipped a small square microphone device to the collar of your (katie's) jersey, as another member held a camera and recorded your actions.

Youtube

Y/N L/N MIC'D UP • ARSENAL V TOTTENHAM

Arsenal 578K views 6:38

0:00

[Camera fades in from black to show you, stood in one of the many corridors of the Emirates Stadium.]

grinning, you gripped your shirt and pulled it closer, "we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! can you hear me?" you asked, looking into the camera that was recording you.

[Laughter is heard around you before the scene cuts and fades into a brief black screen. When it returns, the camera is unfocused, going in an out before focusing on you, looking at the camera as you don't realize it's recording.]

"is it going?" you asked with a dopey smile, the cameraman behind you nodding. "right. hi, i'm y/n l/n and today i'll be mic'd up as i watch tonight's game." you giggle, pointing at the microphone clipped to your shirt before you make your way toward your seat.

[Camera follows you down the hall before cutting to you sat with Beth, Viv, and Leah, the former two sat in the row below you. You pull a small, barely noticeable box out of your pocket. The camera zooms in on your hand, revealing the box is actually a miniature uno deck.]

"i know how we can pass the time," you grin micheviously.

0:45

[Camera cuts to the four of you playing uno, Beth and Viv swiveled in their seats to face you and Leah above them. It catches Leah attempting to peek at your cards before you shove her head away, the scene then switching to a new clip of the four women arguing.]

"absolutely not, beth cheated!" leah yells, hands dropping dramatically onto her thighs with a loud smack.

"you fucking wish! you just suck williamson!"

[Viv is seen trying to keep the peace as you laugh loudly, the four of you gaining looks from surrounding match watchers— only for them to look away at the sight of four of arsenal's own. Your laughter becomes louder as Leah slams her tiny cards aggressively onto your thigh, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair with a pout.]

"oh, cheer up captain," you pout mockingly, reaching to pinch her cheeks between your fingers.

1:02

[Camera cuts to the teams walkout, briefly showing Katie McCabe before turning back to you, a large grin on your face, never failing to leave.]

"that's my girl!" you shout, hands cupped around your mouth to make yourself louder. "let's go number fifteen!"

1:39

[Cuts to you leaned back in your seat with your arms folded. An amused look is on your face as you shake your head. Camera pans to the big screen as Katie's name is shown, a yellow card next to it.]

"it's been like thirty minutes and she already has a card," you giggle to yourself before sighing fondly, a gentle smile on your face. "that's my girl."

2:06

[Different camera shows Katie sliding her foot in front of a Tottenham player, successfully and cleanly retrieving the ball from her feet before panning to you with your elbows propped up on your knees, head resting in your hands.]

"oh my god, she's so hot." you sighed absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting about those surrounding you and the microphone attached to your collar.

[Beside you, Leah bursts out laughing, the sound picking up through your mic as the blonde discretely turning to the cameraman who has now directed it toward her, pointing at you before fake wretching.]

3:21

[Camera shows you jumping up out of your seat, annoyance clear on your face as your hands are perched on your hips.]

"oh, come the fuck on! that's so clearly a foul!"

4:38

[During halftime, the camera follows as the four of you briefly leave your seats to join the girls in the locker room. The cameraman does not enter, only filming the door, however you can be heard from inside.]

"north london is what?!"

"north london is red!" an irish voice answers you.

"hell yeah it is!" you reply, then followed by the sound of palms smacking against each other.

another voice cuts in, "alright, simmer down you two!"

"oi! put her down, she's fragile!"

4:50

[Camera cuts to you stood with your hands on Katie's shoulders, giving her your usual half time pep talk, brushing stray fly-aways out of her face as she smiles at you. The sound is cut off, so the viewers can only see the motion of both players' lips moving as you speak to each other, the final thing being Katie moving toward you, scenes changing just before any PDA is shown.]

5:47

[Camera pans from Katie running around the pitch celebrating, arms in the air and then back to you, the four Arsenal players chanting together, you being the loudest and most enthusiastic of the four.]

"we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! i just don't think you understand! she plays out on the wing! she hits it with a zing! we've got katie mccabe!"

6:25

[Video closes out with you and Katie stood outside of the stadium, her arm wrapped around your shoulder as you do the outro.]

"that was me mic'd up, i hope i was entertaining enough for you all. thanks for watching." you grin shyly, waving with both hands. "leave a comment if you think katie should get mic'd up next."

[Katie laughs before kissing your cheek affectionately, the brunette waving bye with her free hand before the video fades to black.]

Instagram Posts

ynln

Liked by victoriapelova and 51,094 others

ynln Watch me go Mic'd Up as I watch Arsenal Women's recent match against Tottenham!

Video is out now on the Arsenal Youtube Channel and the Arsenal Instagram Account!

— view all comments

katie_mccabe11 It's a good one 😉

⤿ bethmead_ We know why you think that 🙄

username petition to get yn mic'd up again, sign here

⤿ username signed

⤿ username signed

⤿ ynln signed

leahwilliamson Alternate title, YN thirsting over Katie for 6 minutes straight 🤢

⤿ katie_mccabe11 Jealous are we, Williamson?

Twitter/X

ynsmccabe that new video arsenal posted of y/n l/n is now my favorite thing

⤿ the clip of her and katie in the hall OMG

⤿ mccardlover no because they literally the only couple ever

⤿ meadema99 leah getting upset over beth cheating in uno after she literally tried to look at y/n's cards ��😭

username pls the amount of bleeps they had to add to this video because of yn 😭

⤿ username never heard someone curse so many times in 6 minutes

katiespelova oh i need more mic'd up videos with the rest of the team now

username if my relationship isn't like katie's and yn's i don't want it

[garciaasfluffypen]

take care of me (like i take care of you) pt.1

pairing: jemily x adhd!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: emily smokes in this one (SMOKING IS DANGEROUS LADIES, GAYS AND THEYS pls dont ruin ur lungs), reader is mentioned to vape but it is not shown, female terms of endearment - "little miss", y/n has a minor flashback to a previous relationship where they got belittled that leads to an rsd breakdown a/n: THIS PART GOT TOO LONG AND I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE MAIN PLOT POINT UNTIL 2.4k WORDS IN so its being split into two parts teehee :) also... i should have put this in the first part, but the house they live in is jj's house from cm evolution bc i'm quite literally obsessed with it anyway pls ignore the fact that it's clearly not three femme presenting humans holding hands i couldn't find a gif like that anywhere

you all had been blessed with a whole week off. a whole week that you got to spend with your favorite people in the entire world and not have to worry about being called in.

it had been ages since you had a whole week where you didn’t have to worry about a single work thing bothering you. the last time you had done this, you had convinced your then best friends to take you to their favorite park and have a picnic, go to the movies and even take you to the trader joes to get your favorite snacks. but this week, this week was different. firstly, you were now dating your best friends, and had been told to stay at theirs as long as you wanted to. you hadn’t left except to go to your apartment and grab a suitcase full of clothes. secondly, the case you had just finished drained the hell out of the three of you. a majority of the time was spent curled up on the couch cycling through shows on netflix and amazon prime, everyone taking turns picking a show to watch while eating leftover chinese food and cuddling. but today you were determined to get out of the house.

the local zoo was holding a sale to celebrate the birth of a new baby giraffe, which happened to be some of your favorite animals ever. so naturally, you got three tickets for the three of you last night and made sure you were up before both of your girlfriends to ensure you got your hands on tickets to feed the giraffes. it had been on your bucket list for a long time. ever since you were little, giraffes had intrigued you. they just looked so soft and cuddly. and you wanted to touch one. so, so bad. 

which is how you found yourself up at seven in the morning, squeezing yourself out from between the two older women and seaking downstairs, curling up in the armchair that you had claimed to yourself and grabbing your ipad. well, technically it was emily’s but she barely used it so therefore it was yours. you had all your favorite games on it anyway, so it was only fair that you used it more since you liked to play games on the jet. making sure you got to the website bright and early, you went to the page where you needed to buy the giraffe experience tickets and waited patiently until 7:30am hit and the first wave of tickets were sent out into the interwebs. within minutes, you had the three tickets you needed in your email. the next step to buttering up your girlfriends for a day at the zoo was to make breakfast. 

you knew exactly what breakfast each of them liked, and had memorized it a few weeks prior for moments like this. emily loved her bacon crispy, her eggs over easy and a marlboro gold by the bay window. jj, on the other hand, loved when you made the pillsbury biscuits with honey and butter, some sort of potato and getting kisses from both you and emily. considering emily usually woke up a little bit before you and jj on a typical day, you decided to start on hers first. you grabbed the box of cigarettes from her purse and put it over by the seat next to the kitchen table, opening the window so the cool dc air would flow through the kitchen as you cooked. sometimes you were tempted to light up a cigarette and see what they were like, but you couldn’t let go of your favorite fruity little flavors. that was another thing you added to your mental list of things to never let emily find out, since you knew she’d give you the look that she gives you whenever you’ve somehow disappointed her. 

jj had found out by a total accident a while ago, clocking your antsiness before you even did. you had stepped out for a breath of fresh air, not realizing that jj had followed you until you were mid hit and felt a presence behind you. while she had been disappointed, she knew that the oral fixation couldn’t be stopped if you weren’t chewing on your chewy necklace. you did your best to wear it, but sometimes the need for the nicotine buzz was stronger than your little necklace and you wanted to feel the dopamine. she sat with you outside while you tried to explain the way it made you feel, and she sat there the whole time and listened to you. she made you promise to lower the nicotine level, which you agreed to, but kept forgetting to go down whenever you stopped by the shop. 

despite the fear looming over you of disappointing emily, you couldn’t help but realize everything had been so easy with them. from communicating your needs to even just asking for them to sit with you. they made sure you were their number one priority. to this day, you were still scared of waking up in your dingy one bedroom all alone and still single. but now, here you were, slowly moving your stuff into their apartment and preparing to leave most of your old appliances at the local goodwill. it was a pleasant change, knowing you were moving somewhere nice and calm and where people supported your every move. where they wouldn’t yell at you when you forgot to refill the soap, or restock the cheese drawer after a grocery trip. 

shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you heard the bedroom door creak open and the padding of emily’s sock feet grew louder as you started smiling. 

“you’re up early,” emily beamed at you. “what’re you doing?”

“taking care of my girlfriends.” you shrugged. “cigs are on the table for you next to your window.” 

emily narrowed her eyes playfully at you. “you have a plan for today, don’t you?” 

“maybe i do, maybe i don’t.” you playfully smiled back at her. “you gotta wait for jayje to wake up.” 

“you know, you can be bad at hiding things sometimes.” emily came over to you and wrapped her arms around your waist. “you have the cheesiest grin on your face right now.” 

“can i not just make breakfast for my girlfriends when i want to?” 

emily placed a peck on your cheek, then captured your lips in a kiss. “you’re a devious little thing, lovey.” 

“and you adore me for it.”

“that i do.” 

you placed another kiss on emily’s lips before ushering her over to her window, grabbing the sheet pan of biscuits and slipping them into the oven. you relished these small moments with emily, where it was the two of you. you got these moments with jj at night, since emily typically stayed at the office later than you guys did. taking the mornings with just the two of you was something you tried to do more often than not, since you craved quality time with both of them. you loved having time with both of them together, but alone time with each of your girlfriends was something you cherished. you made sure to get emily’s coffee mug filled just the right amount and bought it over to the table, wrapping your arms around her from behind as the smoke flowed from between her lips. you had at least five more minutes before you had to start cooking the bacon and eggs, which meant you could sit with emily and bask in the moment. 

before you knew it, jj made her way into the kitchen, smiling widely as she came and wrapped her arms around you as you stood over the pan. your eyes momentarily closed as you leaned back into the blonde, letting her place a few kisses on your neck before turning around and capturing her in a kiss. you smiled at her before turning back to the bacon, making sure that side was crispy as you could get it before flipping it around. 

“what’s all this?”

“well… i uh, i had a plan for us today.”

you saw emily struggle to hold back a chuckle out of the corner of your eye.

“can you guys both be ready by nine thirty? no wait, be ready by nine fifteen and in the car by nine thirty because we need to be at the place by nine fifty in order to beat the crowds and get to where we need to be on time for our tickets because our tickets are for eleven.” you paused, looking at your girlfriends. “can you be ready by nine fifteen?” 

“i mean, yeah.” jj looked over to emily. “do you know the plan?”

“just that little miss over here woke up before us and i woke up with no blankets on me because in the midst of everything you stole all of them.” emily joked, poking her tongue out at jj. 

you started rocking up to the balls of your feet. “so um… there might be a new baby giraffe at the zoo and i might have gotten us tickets because i really really wanted to see the giraffes and they’re my favorites and they were running a sale because of the new baby and--” 

jj chuckled. “you are adorable, did you know that?” 

“is that a yes?”

“of course it's a yes, bubs.” jj placed a kiss on your cheek. “i’d love to go to the zoo with you.” 

“emmy?” you looked over to emily, the new nickname slipping out of your lips with ease. “can you come to the zoo with us? you’ll probably say no which is okay because i can always invite penelope or tara but-”

“why would you think i’d say no?” 

negative feelings overflowed your system as you remembered vividly the face that had been pulled when you asked to go to the zoo or do anything you considered fun. you felt yourself slipping into a dissociative state, fingers looking for something to stim on as you worked through your feelings. the harsh words of “why the fuck would you want to go to the zoo?” reverberated through as memories of one of your previous flings flew to the front of your mind. the shame you felt for wanting to enjoy your time together became unbearable and overwhelming, making you realize that your girlfriends could become annoyed with you like that and change their minds. what if they thought you were childish? what if they figured out you were too much for them?

emily looked over to jj. “did i say something?” 

“i don’t know. i don’t think so?” jj looked over to you, your eyes glazed over. “um.. shit wait, okay, i think they’re having an rsd episode, i’ll get their work bag. the marble fidget they use to calm down is in there.” 

emily scooted out from behind the table as she put her cigarette out, sneaking behind you to grab the pan off the stove before the bacon burned. she put her arms around you and pulled you close, running her hand up and down your back lightly as she waited for you to come out of your funk. she locked eyes with jj as she came back into the room, digging through the bag for the fidget toy in question, sticking it in your hands before you could start scratching at the side of your nails. a few minutes passed before you came back, the feeling of both emily and jj’s arms around you grounding you in the present, pushing the negative feelings to the back of your mind.

“‘m sorry.” 

“it's okay, lovey. do you want to talk about it?” 

“um… can you just… i’m not too much, right?” 

emily pulled back. “what makes you think that?” 

“whenever i asked about doing things that i liked, nobody really wanted to do them.” you looked down shamefully. “i shouldn’t have presumed you’d want to go with me.” 

“y/n y/l/n” blue eyes looked into your own. “you don't need to hide yourself with us. never hide yourself with us. you’re allowed to have your likes and act on them.” 

“but-”

“ah ah,” jj tilted your chin up, making you look at her. “don’t you dare.” 

it was almost as if a switch had been flipped in jj, her eyes darkening slightly as she stared at you. it caused your legs to turn to jelly, rendering you practically useless in your girlfriend's arms. you weren’t entirely sure what was happening, but it sent a wave of excitement through your veins. 

“we’re going to the zoo with you, we’re going to have fun, and we’re going to have a good day.” jj shot emily a ‘we need to talk about this’ glance before continuing. “go get dressed and ready for the day, we’ll finish our breakfasts and go enjoy the zoo.” she gave you a pointed look. “capeesh?”

all you could do was nod, your eyes widening in… whatever this feeling was that you were feeling. 

“words, y/n.”

“y-yes.” you swallowed. “okay.” 

jj smiled, switching back to her normal self and placing a kiss on your lips. “thank you for breakfast, by the way. it smells delicious.” 

you shyly smiled back. “i wanted you to be in a good mood before i asked you to go to the zoo.” 

emily pulled you in for a hug. “you never have to do anything for us to be in a good mood around you. we-” she paused. “there’s nothing you could do to put us in a foul mood.” 

“are you sure?”

“we’re sure. now go get ready, lovey, we’ll be up in a little bit when we finish our breakfast.” it was emily’s turn to kiss you. “don’t forget your meds.”

“oh shit, my meds!” 

emily and jj watched you run out of the room, both of the older women chuckling. emily wrapped her arms around jj, placing her head on her shoulder. 

“we’re going to need to work on talking about feelings, huh?” 

jj nodded. “it seems like it.” 

“would it be too much to castrate the exes who hurt them?” 

“uh… yes? we’re not castrating anyone.” jj lightly slapped emily’s arm. “go finish your bacon, we have places to be.” 

“we do need to have a serious talk with them about it, at some point.”

“yeah,” jj agreed. “lets just… they need to know we’re here for them. let’s focus on them the rest of the week and go from there.” 

emily nodded. “we’ll go from there.”

taglist: @jayden-prentiss

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Mushrooms

The edible parts of fungi are the fruiting bodies that are produced very dramatically by huge spreading masses of mycelia, which draw their nutrients as parasites from roots and decaying vegetation.

BAY BOLETUS (Boletus badius)

Usually found in woodlands, this fungus is pale to brown in colour.

Has light yellow pores on the underside and these stain blue if damaged.

The flesh also stains a bluish colour when cut and smells very mushroomy.

The stalk has no frills but is smooth from base to cap.

Can be stored by slicing and drying or flash freezing.

They taste fine raw when sliced and make great soup.

SHAGGY INK CAP (Coprinus comatus)

Very common but distinctive mushroom.

Easy to identify with its egg-shaped shaggy cap.

Often grows on newly disturbed ground in large clusters.

The cap is covered with beautiful white scales and there is no veil on the stem when the cap opens to a bell shape with a dark black underside.

Need to be young and fresh to make good eating.

Shaggy ink caps make a wonderful mushroom soup.

These mushrooms do not store well, so they are best used fresh.

GIANT PUFFBALL (Langermannia gigantea)

Can grow to 80 cm diameter.

The huge white ball of a giant puffball is not hard to identify.

Must be used young before the spores have time to develop and the insects have time to take their share.

Slice them up like rump steak to cook them.

By themselves they have little flavour, but fried quickly with a little bacon they are delicious.

HORSE MUSHROOM (Agaricus arvensis)

Can be found on old pastures that has been grazed by horses or cattle.

Has a slight aniseed smell and does not shrivel up when cooked.

Just beware you don’t over-indulge if you are lucky enough in these times of chemical farming to find a crop of these.

The cap of the horse mushroom may be yellowy in colour, but be careful not to confuse it with the “yellow stainer” fungus, which will make you ill.

CHANTERELLE (Cantharellus cibarius)

May be found in woodland clearings.

Seasoned mushroom hunters will keep their locations a close secret as they tend to grow in the same places each year.

Are fairly small – up to 4 inches (10 cm) across but usually smaller – with a distinctive yellow colour and a slight smell of apricots.

The caps become like small, fluted trumpets as they age and the gills are heavy, irregular and run down the stems.

Best stored in good olive oil or in spiced alcohol.

PARASOL (Macrolepiota procera)

Usually found in open fields and has large brown scales in a symmetrical pattern around a pronounced central bump.

The cap can grow up to 10 inches (25 cm) across and the gills are white.

The stem is long and tough with a large ring around it.

Will dry well for storage.

Make a delicious dish by dipping pieces of the parasol in batter and deep frying.

PENNY BUN (Boletus edulis)

Also known as the “cep” mushroom and is a great prize for the mushroom hunter, as it has an unusual nutty flavour.

Found in woodland or sometimes in heather with dwarf willows, the “cep” can grow quite large – over 2 pounds (1 kg) in weight.

When picking, cut the cap in half to check for maggots. These work their way up through the stems.

Its cap looks just like freshly baked bread.

The colour darkens as the mushroom ages.

The underside will have yellow pores, not gills.

The stem is bulbous and solid white with brown stripey flecks.

Stores well if dried in thin slices.

HONEY FUNGUS (Armillaria mellea)

This yellowy-brown fungus is a tree-killer – but highly edible for humans.

The active part of the fungus is a black cord-like rhizomorph that covers huge areas under the soil and seeks out trees, which it destroys.

Normally grows straight out from trees and stumps, usually in large clumps.

The flesh is white and smells strong and sweet.

The gills vary from off-white to brown and the stalks are tough, often fused together at the base and with a white, cotton-like ring below the cap.

The caps become tough if you dry them so it’s best to freeze.

ORANGE PEEL (Aleuria aurantia)

An extraordinary, brightly coloured and very striking fungus.

Found commonly in large clumps in grassland on bare earth from autumn to early winter. The caps soon become wavy and are of fairly robust texture.

Quite small – up to 2 inches (5 cm) across – the fungus is bright orange on top and a lighter shade on the velvety underside.

These store well if dried.

WOOD MUSHROOM (Agaricus silvicola)

Only found in woodland.

A more delicate version of its close relative, the horse mushroom.

Does not grow out of a volval bag like the death cap and its gills are pink to brown in colour, not white.

The flesh does not discolour when cut and the smell is of a slight aniseed.

The cap is a creamy-yellow colour that darkens as it ages and is smaller than the horse mushroom, growing to only 4 inches (10 cm).

THE PRINCE (Agaricus augustus)

Resembles a stocky version of the parasol.

Grows up to 10 inches (25 cm) wide and is found in woodland.

The top is flecked with brownish scales.

The gills are off-white when young, turning dark brown with age.

The flesh is strong white and smells of mushroom.

The stem is very strong and often scaly with a large floppy ring under the cap – it is too tough to make good eating unless cooked in stews.

It has a strong flavour and can be frozen or dried for excellent winter meals.

FIELD MUSHROOM (Agaricus campestris)

Undoubtedly the best known of all mushrooms, before the days of chemical farming whole fields would be covered by the prolific field mushroom.

Get up early after a hot summer spell has been followed by rain to pick.

The silky white caps grow up to 4–5 inches (10–12 cm), the gills are pink, and the smell mushroomy.

The ring around the stems is very fragile and often missing.

Maggots can be a problem – check older specimens by cutting through the stems.

Can be stored by flash freezing or drying.

WHERE TO LOOK

You will always harvest your best specimens early in the morning. Fungi grow in a wide variety of places, but they will not tolerate chemical fertilizers or sprays.

They say it will take 20 years for the horse mushroom to appear in grassland after the use of chemicals has been stopped.

In fact, the majority of edible fungi grow in the proximity of woodland and many have close symbiotic relationships with particular tree roots.

But wild grassland does always produce an excellent crop of fungi every autumn and you will find each season’s crop in similar places to the previous year’s.

WHAT TO AVOID

There is probably no need to warn you of the fly agaric, as this bright red and white spotted fungus is so well known.

The most dangerous of all fungi is the death cap (Amanita phalloides).

A single death cap contains enough toxins to kill several people:

Usually it grows in woodland, particularly with oak trees. It can vary in colour, being similar in size to a field mushroom, but its characteristic features are white gills on the underside and a “volval” bag at the base. Any fungi growing from a “volval” bag are best left well alone for many are poisonous.

A death cap has white spores, not brown like most edible mushrooms.

Another mushroom to avoid is the “yellow stainer”, easily confused with field or horse mushrooms:

It has the distinctive feature of turning bright yellow when bruised or cut. It also smells rather like disinfectant.

NOTE. There is no easy way to determine whether a fungus is toxic just by looking at it. You should never ingest any unknown fungi. Fungal fruiting bodies can be picked out of the planter pot and thrown in the trash if there is a concern that pets or young children could ingest them.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ Writing Notes & References ⚜ Food History

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 11

Synopsis: Jason continues to stick around and take care of you.

Notes: I am so happy you guys liked the last chapter. She was my baby while I was sick. Moving forward, we are going to keep going with the comfort because it's just nice. Jason is very touchy in this chapter. I mentioned somewhere about Jason’s love languages and this chapter is covered in them. He is out here taking care of Reader the way he would want to be cared for (even if he won't admit it out loud). Enjoy!!

Masterlist

You spent the night tossing and turning, drifting between the realm of asleep and awake. Aside from a warm hand luring you back into the dream world, you don't remember much. When you do wake finally, it’s raining. You can hear it pattering against the window of your room, the cold of it seeping in where it can. Your hand reaches for the warmth you had felt through the night to find it gone. You open your eyes to find yourself alone. An achy loneliness claws at your throat for a moment until you hear a clattering followed by a muffled curse. There’s silence for a moment before movement continues.

You turn to look at your alarm, quickly reminded of the pains from the night before. 11:48. You don’t know what time you made it home or what time you actually fell asleep. You still feel exhausted, but you don’t know if you could drift off. You take your time sitting up in bed, staring at the covers as you push down a wave of nausea. You slide out of bed, movements slowed by short waves of dizziness. You’re cold the moment your feet touch the ground. You grab a zip-up sweater and some fuzzy socks. You slide the sweater over your shoulders gingerly and take your time to pull your socks as you listen to shuffling from the kitchen.

You move quietly out of the bedroom and toe your way down the hall, peaking around the corner to see the kitchen. Jason stands in front of your stove. The smell of bacon invades your senses, and your earlier nausea tries to show itself. You watch him as you quietly pull a stool from under the island and sit down. He moves easily through your kitchen and before you fully settle in your seat, he has a glass of water and a couple of pain pills in front of you. You glance at the items and then up at him. He cracks a fond smile at you and a tender gnawing feeling starts in your chest.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice just slightly gravellier than normal. You had only heard his voice like that once before when he took you to watch the sunrise on the bay. The memory warms you.

“I’m okay,” you say quietly tugging at the sleeves of your sweater where your arms rest on the counter. He catches your movement and leans across the island, grabbing your hands and pulling them slightly forward. He pushes your sleeves down. Twisting your hands this way and that, he examines the bruising with a disapproving frown.

“It’s okay if you’re not; you went through something traumatic,” He gives your hand a rub with is thumb before he sets your hands back on the counter and turns back to the stove, “I was worried, you were seriously out of it last night.”

Your mind flashes through everything from the moment you made it to your apartment. You feel warmth creep up your neck and you bury your face in your hands. God, he had practically seen you naked. Talk about skipping a few steps in a relationship. Over your embarrassment, you feel a flood of gratitude because, despite the vulnerable position you had been in, Jason never took advantage of you. You hear a clink as something is set down in front of you. You peek through your fingers to see a plate loaded with bacon, scrambled eggs, and fried potatoes. Your nausea flares again.

“I’m not hungry.” You say, swallowing around nothing.

“You feel sick?” he asks. You nod and he’s quick to respond.

“It’s because you’re starving. I know you didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday because you were working all day and you definitely haven’t had anything today.” He states. You drop your hands to squint at him suspiciously.

“How do you know I was working all day yesterday?”

“I called Jackie’s,” you open your mouth to complain but he keeps talking, “There was no way you were going to go to work today. You have a concussion. You need rest no heavy lifting and plenty of good food.” He nudges the plate closer to you.

“Oh, yes, bacon. The most healing food out there.” You pick up a piece and bite into it. Despite the nausea, it tastes amazing. You finish the piece and your nausea ebbs away. You glare at Jason for being right. He just smiles and turns to make himself a plate. One slice of bacon in your stomach and you take the pain meds he had gotten for you. As you’re gnawing on a potato, you notice that the TV is on, volume so low you hadn’t noticed it at first. It’s the news, something about a car chase earlier that morning. You take your plate and cup of water and settle on the couch, crisscross. You had thought Jason was going to join you, but you hear the sound of the kitchen faucet running.

“You don’t have to wash my dishes. I can do it.” You call out. You hear a scoff before he responds.

“I made the mess; I’ll clean it up.” He says. You sigh because you know that there were more dirty dishes in the sink than the ones that he used but you don’t have the energy to argue. You continue eating, zoning out on the TV. Jason sits next to you, your knee pressing to his thigh, when the news changes. The anchor woman’s sharp voice evoked urgency.

“Breaking News. This just in. The Penguin has been arrested on accounts of multiple homicides and involvement in a human trafficking ring run through his club The Iceberg Lounge. Late last night at a known body dumping sight just north of Aparo Park, The Red Hood was seen pulling a young woman from a warehouse just minutes after Penguin had left the scene. The GCPD knew about the dumping site but had no evidence connecting it to him until now. At the warehouse, Police found the body of Ted Jackson. Jackson has been wanted by police for months on accounts of sexual assault and homicide. His body was brutally mutilated and the woman’s official statement states that Red Hood was responsible. For those not aware, Red Hood has been playing by Batman’s rules of no killing for the last four years. Is this sudden change in ethics a bad sign for Gotham? Or has The Batman lost his hold on this vigilante? We’ll see what our commentators think after the break.”

You set your plate on the coffee table, appetite gone. You tip your head back against the couch and slouch with a sigh, eyes closing. You rub your hands against your face in frustration. You wish you could just forget last night but you can feel it, just hovering at the edge of your mind, ready to pounce if you were to relax even a little bit.

“You okay?” Jason asks again. You peek one eye at him from the cracks in your fingers.

“You going to keep asking me that?”

“Only until you give me an honest answer.” He gives you a knowing look and you drop your hands.

“I’m not but it won’t change anything. I’ll get over it.” He snorts at your comment, and you glare at him.

“We can make you a Gothamite yet.” He grins at you.

“Shut up,” You try to smack at his arm, but he catches your hand. He holds your hand softly and gently rubs over the scraps on your knuckles and fingers. They tingle but don’t hurt. Your mind slips for a moment to how you got them, knife in hand, dragged by the ankle.

No. You snap yourself out of it and pull your hand from his. You meanly press your hands together in your lap. You keep your chin tucked watching the way your fingers squish together. You can feel Jason staring a hole into your cheek but you ignore it. A strange awkward silence creeps into the space. You hadn’t known awkward silence with Jason, ever.

“So, Red Hood? Good thing he showed when he did, huh?” He finally says. There’s a weird forced nonchalant to the question and you wonder if maybe he’s a fan.

“No, that asshole,” you mumble under your breath. You feel a sudden unbridled anger towards that man that had been coming in through your window. It was his fault you got kidnapped and then he showed up just to ditch you outside. He didn’t even do anything!

Jason must have heard your words and tone as he lets out a shocked, “What?”

You shake your head because you had to explain how you’re feeling to Jason, you would have to explain a bunch of other stuff too. Mostly you didn’t want to tell Jason that it was you who had killed Ted Jackson, not Red Hood. You didn’t want Jason to look at you any differently than he usually does.

“It’s nothing. He’s a great guy, did his job and all that.” You say with a less than enthused tone. You can see in Jason’s eyes that he wants to question you on the matter but instead, you get a different question.

“Wanna watch a movie? Keep your mind off of everything?” you eye him like he might jump you with a different question. His brows raise, still waiting for an answer.

You finally answer, nodding, “Yeah, okay.” You drag your blanket from the other side of the couch and pull it into your lap. “Nothing action-y or gore please.”

Once you have the blanket settled, you glance at him to find him gleaming at you.

“What? What do you watch?”

“Pride and Prejudice?”

Your face crinkles and you respond, “Do you have no other personality? Just Jason, Pride and Prejudice fan.” He chuckles at your comment.

“Unless there’s something else you want to watch.”  You don’t have anything else in mind, so you concede with a head shake. He offers you the remote. You stare at it.

“Just look it up,” you tell him, still shuffling your blanket. He stares you down like he’s about to tell you something devasting.

“I’m going to be honest,” his tone serious, “I had a really hard time just finding the news this morning.” You laugh quietly into your hand.

“Don’t worry. I honestly didn’t even know I had the news.” You steal the remote from his hand and do a quick search through your streaming services. As the movie starts you snuggle back into your blanket, propping your feet on the coffee table. You lean over just slightly your shoulder pressing to his. He tenses for a moment and then relaxes again.

“I think it’s really funny that you suck with technology.” You whisper.

“I don’t suck at it. It just doesn’t make sense sometimes.” He whispers back to you like you’re in an actual movie theatre. You giggle into your blanket but quiet up, focusing on the movie. You don’t pull away from your touching shoulders and neither does he.

Jason does the opposite. He copies your slouch against the couch and props his feet on the table next to yours. The slouching pushes his shoulder tighter to yours and you just settle your head against his shoulder. Body relaxed against the heat of him again, you fade in and out of sleep. Moments of dancing, arguments in a drizzle of rain, and a warm body keep the cold dark corners of your mind at bay.

When you wake, you find yourself on your side, lying across the rest of the couch. Your legs had somehow ended up in Jason’s lap. You turn your head slightly just to watch him. His eyes focus on the TV as his hand moves up and down your calf, absentmindedly massaging the muscle before squeezing at your ankles, feet, and toes through your socks before repeating the process over. You take the time to just stare at him.

His black hair curls at the tips and you wonder if he styles it. You quickly brush the notion off because you can’t picture him doing that. He must have curly hair then. You follow the line of his face and smile at the intense stare he has on the TV. You pause at the scar on his cheek. Your old mental jar does rattle, although it’s not as loud as it usually is. Red Hood left you, Jason hadn’t. you still focus on the scar and your mind drifts to your conversation with the penguin.

“Do you have a job?” you ask suddenly. Jason glances at you out of the corner of his eye. The corner of his lip twitches up.

“Tired of me already?” he says as he gives your calf another squeeze before rubbing up and down.

“That’s not-” you pause for a second and close your eyes trying to collect your thoughts, “We’ve just never talked about it. Obviously, you know where I work. I don’t know where you work.” You don’t want to admit that Penguin, of all people, was making you question whether or not he was a criminal.

“I work in security.” He says easily.

“That’s beautifully vague.”

He chuckles at your comment, “A security subcontractor. I can make my schedule and only take on jobs I want.”

“Oh, like a mercenary,” you feel him tense at the word, “but you protect people instead of killing them.”

He shifts uncomfortably where he sits and you wonder if it’s you, so you try to pull your feet from his lap. His hand tightens around your ankle, keeping you there. You don’t think he realizes it.

“Yea, something like that.” He nods finally. “You should get a new door lock.” You want to roll your eyes.

“I can’t. This apartment is a rental.”

“You already changed your window locks and installed a shitty alarm system.” You snort.

“I didn’t-” you stop yourself, once again not wanting to tell Jason about Red Hood. “If you want to change my locks you can take it up with my landlord.” You offer instead of arguing.

He seems content with the offer, returning his gaze back to the TV with an “I will.”

Once the movie ends you stand to stretch, a slight twinge still in your back. You use the restroom and when you come back there’s a glass of water where your plate was, and Jason is wiping down the island with a rag.

“Will you stop cleaning my apartment?” you ask. He does a final wipe-down and shakes the rag over the trash.

“I’m stopping.” He rounds the island to stand in front of you. His hands find your arms, moving up a down slowly. “How you feeling?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not answering that.” Hands move down your arms to hold your hands and pull them up to his eyes. The sleeves of your sweater slide down enough for him to look at the bruises on your wrist again. You want to pull your hands away and brush off his staring, but you like the way his hands feel holding yours. Rough and warm. You’d let him hold you for hours if that’s what he wanted.

“We should get you some bruise cream. They still hurt?” he says finally.

“Only a little. What do you mean bruise cream? I thought you just waited out bruises.” He stops staring at your wrists to look at you. Your hands hang loosely between you two, but he doesn’t let go.

“You could but my grandfather used to use this stuff on me when I was younger, the bruise wouldn’t disappear, but it did make it hurt less. One of those natural remedies sort of thing.” It was rare that Jason talked about his family and rarer with a tone of fondness. He has the same happy look that he did when he told you about the best cookies in the world. You wonder if the same man is responsible for those.

“Okay, do you make it?” You don’t think you have any ingredients for magic bruise cream, but he shakes his head.

“We can buy it; I think you need some groceries too.” He squeezes your hands and lets go, “I made a list.” You blink at him.

“You made a list?” you ask incredulously.

“Yea, you want to come with me, or do you want to stay?” The easy way he’s managing your apartment and getting ready to go grocery shopping for you throws you for a loop but you're even more caught off guard by his question. You don’t really want to leave your apartment just yet. The thought of what could be lurking in the shadows outside is enough to make you sick. You don’t want Jason to leave either. You know he would come back but you don’t think you’re ready to be alone yet. He must see your worried mental debate.

“No rush on the decision. We can watch another movie while you think on it.” You shake your head at his offer.

“Why don’t we just have it delivered?” you feel selfish asking. You’re sure he wants to go out but if he’ll let you keep him longer, you want him to stay. He gives you a confused look.

“It's not pizza. It's groceries.” You laugh at the surety of the statement. Your unknown scrunched shoulders relax. You’re once again reminded of how out of the loop with technology Jason seems to be.

“Everything can be delivered now, especially in the city. I just need my…” you trail off. Your phone. You don’t remember the last time you saw it. Definitely not today. Last night before you taken? You pat at your bum like it’ll be in the back pockets that don’t exist on your PJs.

“Phone?” You finally finish your sentence. A look of recognition crosses Jason’s face. He walks over to your dining room table where there’s a pile of papers you hadn’t noticed before along with your phone on top of it.

“The commissioner stopped by to drop it off this morning. They found it in the warehouse last night. He also dropped off some extra information if you need it, help lines stuff like that.” You were shocked that the commissioner would offer resources for help but you guess Gotham has enough crazies as is. Your shock changes to confusion.

“My phone was in a different place than my purse?” Jason's brows furrow.

“What?”

“Last night, you had my keys. You said that they had found them in the warehouse and gave them to you. But if they found my phone in the warehouse it would’ve been somewhere else since they didn’t give you my phone last night.” Jason presses his lips together and nods along as you speak.

“Sound thought process to me.” He hands you your phone. You get the strange feeling that Jason is hiding something from you but there’s nothing in the conversation to hide so push down the thought. You settle on the couch and show him how to order groceries online. An hour later and halfway through The Notebook, your groceries are delivered. You try to help Jason bring them in but he shoos you off. Then you try to help put them and he shuffles you to one of the stools at the island. You watch him put away the groceries easily. You get the feeling he had a lot of time this morning while you were sleeping, enough to make a grocery list and know where everything in the kitchen went. You don’t feel uncomfortable with the idea like you thought you would. Jason wasn’t a strange man rummaging through your apartment. He was your friend (or something more? You seriously needed to talk about that) and he was looking into your world and taking care of it and you.

Groceries put away he comes to stand next to you. He easily pulls your stool out more and turns your seat. Your heart jumps at the display of strength but you ignore it. He has a small jar in hand and you can only assume it’s the bruise cream he was talking about. He opens it, sets it on the counter, and pulls one of your hands from your lap. His ever-gentle touches are back, pushing your sleeve up to your elbow. He dips his finger into the cream and swipes it onto the bruise. You gnaw at your inner cheek, periodically glancing between his face and his hands. His eyes focused like he was worried he could hurt you by accident at any given moment. You focus on his hands as his fingers rub the cream until the white becomes clear. He takes your other hand and repeats the process, Warm, sturdy, and tender hands caress your skin and your heart aches just a little with that gnawing emotion you don’t think too hard about.

His thumb rubs at your knuckles for a moment and his other hand dips back into the jar. Cold cream is dabbed into the bridge of your nose, startling you enough to tip backward, nearly falling off of the stool. Jason moves quicker than you anticipated. His hand wraps around your waist pulling you forward. Your legs spread, accommodating him as he accidentally pulls into your space. Your hand curls into his shirt at his stomach, where you had grabbed in momentary falling panic. You stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Careful,” he murmurs, “your nose is bruised.” He adds in explanation. His hold on your waist loosens but doesn’t remove his hand entirely as he goes back to rubbing at your nose. You stare into his blue-green eyes as he rubs, relaxing in his hold. A surge of gratitude overtakes you again. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of you and you’re not sure if it was with a tenderness like this.

“Jason?” you say his name quietly. He hums in response, fingers no longer rubbing along your nose but moving to hold your face. You want to say how thankful you are for him and happy that he’s in your life. The words choke in your throat. He’s watching you again, the way he always does. You think you know what it means now but you’re not emotionally ready for that conversation.

“Will you stay the night again?” you finally get out, “Please.”

He nods, “Course.” His hand slides from your face to hold at the back of your neck. Your hands slide from his front to around his waist in a hug as you press your face to his chest, hoping it conveys what you’re feeling. You’ll have to have a conversation, eventually, but not today. Today, you’re content with Jason holding you.

Additional Note: This is Jason domesticating himself. I picture Jason as a watch-and-learn type of person and he’s been watching her as Red Hood how she keeps her apartment clean to her standards for a while. He’s going to use that knowledge. This chapter and the next chapter are definitely filler type chapters but its okay, we’ll get somewhere eventually. Drop a comment if you want, I like everybody's thoughts. Thank you for reading

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @tetsuroubaby, @herodedicatedblog

[ryemackerel]

[3/4] EDD - CREATURES FROM MUM’S BASEMENT

Tord: “Hallo. I have no idea where to start.”

Matt (in the distance, whispering loudly): “INTRODUCE THE BOY!”

Tord: “OH. LOL OK.

So. Here we have Eggward. Lead vocalist and our other guitarist in the Creatures band. Very cool guy.

He makes a lot of appearances in our songs, and pretty much is lead vocalist for practically almost all of our songs. We switch around who’s singing and who isn’t pretty often, but for the songs that we cover, his voice is pretty much perfect for a shit-ton of them.

I admire his talent a lot. No I’m not being a dickrider or anything. He covers a lot of the calmer songs with lots of ease, and whenever he gets to the louder parts, he DEFINITELY struggles sometimes haha, but he pulls them off really well. I think Love Song by Hobsons Bay Coast Guard was one of the slightly louder songs he does incredibly in. Not SUPER loud, like Matt or Tom, but raising his volume and his voice, kinda. But then he has a very mellow tone most of the time.

We often pay attention to Matt when it comes to guitar, since he’s lead in most of them, but you really gotta admire Edd’s guitar skills. Then you put them together, and it’s like. I don’t fucking know. Eggs with bacon. YES! Eggs with bacon!!!

The eggs is Edd because he rhymes with egg, and Matt is bacon. Or no wait. Maybe it’s switched.

Anyways Edd is really cool. Did I say that already?”

Tom: “Yeah you did, you gayass.”

Tord: “OK OK SHUT THE FUCK UP IM NOT GAY”

Matt: “That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever said, Tord.”

Tom: “HAHAHHAAAAAA!!”

Tord: “?!?!?!?!?!??”

[south-of-heaven]

Rhea celebrating her birthday with reader?

Knucklehead || Rhea Ripley x Reader

Summary: It's Rhea's birthday. You've prepared breakfast for her to enjoy in bed. Barry seems to think it's his breakfast.

It was Rhea's birthday, and you had a plan to make her day special right from the moment she woke up. As the sun's first rays streamed through the curtains, you slipped out of bed, leaving Rhea nestled under the covers.

Barry, her playful bull terrier, was the first to join you in the kitchen. He'd always been a mischievous one, and today was no different. As you prepared breakfast, you could see him eyeing the plate of food, his tail wagging furiously. The scent of bacon and eggs must have been too tempting.

With a knowing smile, you set up a plate with Rhea's favorite breakfast, complete with a small birthday candle. Barry's dark eyes never left the plate, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he contemplated a daring theft.

Taking a deep breath, you carefully carried the breakfast on a tray and walked back to the bedroom. Rhea lay there, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow, her tattoos contrasting beautifully with her pale skin. She looked like an angel in the soft morning light.

Placing the tray on her lap, you lit the tiny candle, the flame flickering. "Happy birthday, love," you whispered, leaning in for a kiss as you set the tray down on the bed.

Rhea's eyes sparkled with delight, but her attention was quickly drawn to Barry, who had now jumped up onto the bed, determined to have a share in the birthday feast.

With a laugh, Rhea playfully scolded him, "Oi knucklehead, this is mine!" She tried to keep him at bay with one hand while picking up a piece of bacon with the other. "You want some too, huh?"

The bull terrier was unrelenting, his eyes never leaving the food. You both laughed, trying to negotiate with the persistent pup. "Come on boy, it's Mami's special day, can't you let her enjoy it?" you urged.

Rhea took a bite of her breakfast, trying to keep it away from Barry's advances. His antics and her laughter filled the room. It was moments like these that you cherished most, the simple, genuine moments of happiness.

Eventually, Rhea gave in, offering Barry a small piece of bacon. He wagged his tail in triumph and devoured it with glee. Your girlfriend looked at the pup with a soft smile, appreciating his enthusiasm even if he did interrupt her birthday breakfast.

You leaned in for a kiss, the candle's warm glow casting a soft light on your faces. Sharing this morning with Rhea, her beloved pet, and her favorite breakfast felt perfect.

As you enjoyed your meal together in the warm cocoon of your love, it was clear that the best birthday gift Rhea could receive was having you by her side. It wasn't about the fancy presents or grand gestures; it was about these quiet moments of joy and laughter, filled with love.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

land softly

Summary: Ghost & Soap are snowed in at a bed & breakfast. Fleabag voice: This is a love story. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Part 2 - Johnny performs a chore

When Johnny opens his eyes in the morning, he checks the time (0600), whips his head towards the bay window for a quick inspection (pure, blinding, snow white), and then groans.   The weather app on his phone confirms what he’d suspected: there’s no way he’s making it to Glasgow—he’s not even making it out of Yorkshire.

But he does need to figure out his situation at the inn, and groans aloud at the idea of convincing the grumpy innkeeper to let him stay another night.  Two, if the horrid weather persists.

His unasked question is answered when he ambles his way down to the kitchen at 0700, freshly showered, and the masked fella’s already there cooking streaky bacon.  The table’s been set for two and the smell of fresh coffee entices Johnny to take (what he thinks) are sneaky steps, but he gets caught out anyway.

“Morning,” the grump mutters, and Johnny carefully returns the greeting.  “Can’t leave in this weather, can ya, mate?”

“Uh…”  

“It’s fine,” the man mutters.  “I ain’t goin’ anywhere either, looks like.”  He turns around and motions to the empty chair.  “Sit.  Eat,” he orders, brusquely, and sets a full English in front of Johnny.

Johnny can’t help but wonder about the abrupt 180 in the giant’s mood from the previous evening, but he lets it go, considering he’s being fed a mighty big breakfast.  He’s shovelling eggs into his mouth with all the gentle decorum of a mountain bear pre-hibernation, when the giant takes the seat opposite him and stares.  No food in front of him, no coffee.  

Johnny squirms from the unblinking attention, on edge from the dark mask that hid his lower face—a mask adorned with the bottom half of a skull.  Eerie and fucking weird, but who was Johnny to judge.

In his line of work—ex line of work, he corrects himself bitterly—he’d seen much worse.

“You dinnae have to do all this, ah appreciate it!  Ye must have family tae go visit for Christmas and I’m holdin’ you up here, ah’m so sorry—”

“No family, s’ fine.”

Johnny’s eyes slide carefully to the ring on his left hand and back to his face, only to flush when he’s clearly been caught looking.  “Ah, ah’m sorry, I just saw the ring and thought ye were married, sorry, that’s—”

“I was.”

“But the ring—” Johnny blurts, before he can help himself.

“Ring stays.  Name’s Ghost,” the man says without missing a beat.  

“Yer name is Ghost?  Did your mam hate ye?”

“Dunno.  She’s dead.  Eat.”

Johnny nods absent-mindedly, and picks up his forgotten cutlery, sneaking glances at the—at Ghost.  

His attention remains unwaveringly on Johnny, though, and he stares intensely at Johnny through the whole thing. 

“I work ‘ere,” Ghost continues, as if the conversation had never stalled.  “Maintenance ‘n that.”

“Okay…”

“The kitchen’s stocked, if y’need to eat.  Help yourself anytime.  There’s coffee, tea, all sorts in there.  Stay as long as you need, there’s no drivin’ in this weather.  Give me a shout if you need me, I’ll be around.”

Ghost flings facts at Johnny at hyper-speed and Johnny’s unsure about what to do with this information.  

“Do—do ye need help?  Ah’m no’ doin’ anything anyway.  Be happy to help for yer lettin’ me stay—”

“Place needs a Christmas tree.”

Johnny chokes on his coffee.  Ghost merely leans back on the chair and waits him out, while painful, hacking coughs leave his body.

“Ye want me to put up yer tree?”

“Christmas in a couple days, innit?  Boiler needs lookin’ at too,” Ghost states and then narrows his eyes.  “I’ll sort that,” he says quickly, when Johnny looks like he was going to offer to do that instead.  “Pulled the tree ‘nd that outta the attic, it’s in the main room.  If you want to help.”    

“Alrate, I can decorate a tree.”

***

Johnny finds that he cannot, after all, decorate a tree.  He really struggles with it, really struggles with a fuckin’ Christmas tree—he can’t remember the last time he’d done this, which comes as a nasty shock—and decides that a change of strategy might be in order.  

He’s determined to do this right, though, and so he acknowledges (with a cringe) exactly what he needs to do.  

He bounds up to his room and grabs his phone.  It only rings twice before his sister answers.  “Too early, Johnny!  Wake my child and I’ll kill ye.”

“Sorry,” he laughs.  “Alright love?”

“S’ all good, pup.  But ye’re not gonna make it fer tonight either, the weather’s stirred up somethin’ awful.”  

“I know!  Never seen snow so bad this time o’ year.”  Johnny has to pause at the irony.  “Mother Nature herself isnae wantin’ me to meet my mother.”

“Yer not funny.”  He hears his sister sigh.  “Gonna be strange without ye here, y’know?”

“Ah know.”  But Johnny knew what his sister was too polite to say—that it might be weird without him there, but not necessarily bad.  He didn’t blame her. 

“Anyway.  Why’re ye calling so early?”

“Ah need your help…with a Christmas tree.”

“What?”  His sister’s voice had taken on an incredulous tone, two octaves higher than usual but when he explained to her what he wanted to do, and about the mysterious weirdo Ghost that ran the bed & breakfast, she was beyond intrigued.  “...kind of a name is Ghost?  His mam hate him?”

“‘S what I said!  But he’s lettin’ me stay here, even though the place is closed.  Fuck, ah’ll decorate his tree for ‘im.  Whatever.  Doesnae matter, can ye help me?”

“Such a brat, Johnny.  Fine.  Here’s what ye need to do.”

As she speaks about tinsel placement and an even bauble to tree ratio, Johnny  realises with a start that he hasn’t looked forward to a project like this for a long, long time.  Johnny’s only looked out for Johnny for so long that something as trivial as putting up a Christmas tree for someone else’s benefit felt like an undeniably selfless act of charity.  The thought disgusts him, he has to shake his head to distract himself from the dark line of thought.

The occasional glance out of the window reveals the constant, seemingly endless snow falling from the skies, but he’s grateful to at least be warm.  And while he separates the baubles from the tinsel from the tree lights, exactly as instructed, Johnny finds his thoughts straying from him.

Nothing’s caught his attention, nothing’s made him want to do something for someone else for a while.  Or maybe it’s just the gruff, stoic, kind of charming innkeeper.   And that thought comes as a surprise, seemingly out of nowhere. Huh.  

The only other constant apart from the snow seems to be the 80s music playing softly from upstairs.  Johnny knows it’s where Ghost is fixing the boiler, and occasionally, he’ll recognise the cheesy song playing from the vintage radio that Ghost seems to carry around with him along with his tool box.  It’s…beyond strange.  

Come afternoon and Johnny finds that he’s still not made as much progress as he’d  have liked to.  The front room of the inn is so messy, he’s thankful for the lack of any other guests at the place—there was hardly any place to walk around in the room.  

He doesn’t find that he has too much of an appetite—too engrossed in planning where he’d like the wreath to go in the room—but he hears Ghost rummaging around for something in the kitchen anyway.  And of course, it seems like where Ghost goes, so does the radio.       

And that’s it, isn’t it?  Johnny finds himself completely intrigued by Ghost.  He’s gorgeous under that mask, Johnny’s confident of it, but if he’s being completely honest, there’s only a few facts that he knows for certain about Ghost.  Special Forces.  Inn-keeper?  Listens to The Police a lot.  Cooks a decent breakfast.  Ah, he’s worked with less in the past.   

“Yer going to clean up after y’self, yeah?”

He’s a bad soldier for how the voice startles him and Johnny’s resentful to admit that he almost jumps a foot in the air from it.

“...yeh yeh, ah’ll clean up.  Almost done here, how’s it looking?”

Ghost stands up straighter, almost like he didn’t expect to be asked, but he crosses his arms over his chest and uses his chin to motion at the tree.  “Lights.”

“Aye, sir,” Johnny mumbles, rolling his eyes at the barely concealed command, and turns the lights on.  When he does, Ghost’s eyes widen slightly, and Johnny has to turn away to hide his smile.   “And?”

Ghost doesn’t say a word, but it’s like Johnny can see his entire frame melt.  It starts up at his shoulders, makes him uncross his arms which fall down to hang limply at his sides.  It’s like the entire tough demeanour falls away to the side, while he watches the lights of the tree and the decorations in the front room, and when he inhales, it’s shuddery.  He appears shaken up by what he sees, and Johnny can’t even begin to guess why. 

“Would ye like to put the star up on—”

“L-lunch is in the kitchen, help yourself,” Ghost mutters, then strides out, aiming for the front door.  Just before he leaves though, with a hand on the door handle, he pauses, and turns halfway to address Johnny.  “Thank you.  I, uh.  I appreciate it.  You didn’t hafta.”

“It’s no’ a prob—”  But Johnny doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence because the front door slams shut, and Ghost is gone.  “Steamin’ Christ,” he mutters.  

It’s only two hours later, when Johnny’s picking at his food in his own room, when movement outside the window catches his attention.  He sets his plate down and walks over, only to choke on his own breath like someone had punched his throat, hard.  He stands there, frozen, staring, wondering what on Earth was in his food that’s made him lose his mind.  

But, no.  Ghost stands there below his wind,  his all-black attire contrasting starkly against the blanket of snow.   In the middle of a snow storm, Ghost stands outside Johnny’s window, axe in hand, chopping wood.

It’s hypnotising, mesmerising,  Johnny finds, watching Ghost and his movements.  It’s surprising how none of it is surprising to Johnny—not the action, not the fact that Ghost is outside in a snowstorm to do it—but Johnny finds himself unconsciously holding his breath and clenching his fists while he observes the movement of Ghost’s body as he does it.  

There’s nothing lean about his body.    

He’s all powerful, rippling muscle under a healthy layer of fat, his chest gorgeously broad, expanding under a black hoodie that strains and relaxes under the movement.  Even from two storeys up where Johnny looks down at him, nothing about Ghost fits in.  Nothing about him looks like it belongs in this picturesque scene, and nothing about him can be glanced over.  He demands Johnny’s absolute attention, even when he doesn’t know it.  Especially because he doesn’t know it.  

Johnny takes a deep breath, and runs shaky fingers through his hair with his exhale.  The movement catches Ghost’s eyes because sharp eyes turn up to look at Johnny instantly.  Johnny’s caught unawares and regrets his finger-wave and chin-nod combo as he does it, embarrassed at having been caught ogling at the man while he’s on the job.  

And while Johnny can’t confirm it, not being able to see Ghost expression from the distance, when he gathers the logs of wood and walks them to the back entrance of the inn, Johnny’s sure Ghost stands taller and walks cockier.

It feels like the atmosphere in the inn becomes a bit more hospitable, and the ice between them melts a little.  At least…that’s what the knock on his door on Johnny’s door in the evening indicates.  It’s tentative, like even Ghost can’t believe he’s doing it.  Except, unlike Ghost, Johnny has had an entire afternoon to accept that he’s got a stupid crush on the hot innkeeper, and he’s flinging the door open.  

Ghost looks uncomfortable.  There’s no other way to put it—Ghost’s open hands twitch at his sides, his foot taps a quick staccato on the floor and he looks at anywhere but Johnny.    

So Johnny waits.  

“I, uh, wanted to know.  You want some dinner?  We got some.”

“Bit early fo’ dinner, Ghost.”  Johnny’s smile is wide, only widens when his hip leaning against the door frame catches Ghost’s attention. 

“Got a bar we can raid.”

 Johnny’s eyes sparkle with interest, before he pushes off the door, agrees easily.  “Must warn ye though, Ghost,” he says, as they make their way down the stairs, Johnny trailing the bigger man, enjoying the view.  “Best have a stocked bar.  I’m a Scotch man, meself.”

“Shocking.”

“What?  Not a fan?”

“I drink bourbon.”

“Like a good ol’ boy…”

Ghost’s sharp inhale makes Johnny hold his own breath for a moment, before they both relax.  “I like Kentucky,” comes the small whisper, almost a defensive after-thought.  Ghost rounds the corner into the kitchen with a quick stride and Johnny, rather unconvincingly, hides his sudden laugh as a cough.

Ghost’s scoff from the kitchen tells him how unconvincing that really was.  

***

“Ye got me right pished,” Johnny accuses, finger pointing to where Ghost’s form doubles and triples in front of him.   

“Only so I could ‘ave my way with you.”  The completely deadpan response he receives sets Johnny off, and only the crinkles around Ghost’s eyes make the ugly snort that leave his mouth worth it.  

They quiet after a while and then Ghost’s eyes lift and fixate on the hundreds of tiny lights around the room.  They looked gorgeous, and Johnny was proud of himself.  “You did well.  With the tree and that.  Thank you.”

“Ye…looked like ye didnae like it.  Earlier.”

Ghost scoffs, but the sound is sad.  “Sorry ‘bout that…didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.  About yesterday too.  It’s, er…’twas a strange day.  Wasn’t you.  Sorry.”  

Johnny melts at the awkward sincerity in Ghost’s voice but freezes when Ghost turns his face to look at him.  Oh.  Oh holy fuck.  His eyes aren’t brown, Johnny realises, horrified.  He’d looked at them earlier, dismissed them as a generic “dark,” but fuck.  

Holy fuckin’ shit, they’re not fucking  “dark,” they’re actually—

“Green!” Johnny blurts.  He’s sure getting shot at has been less painful than the hot, searing feeling of embarrassment that crawls up his chest and manifests as bright, embarrassing, pink across his face. Ghost stares at him blankly, and fuck, if Johnny isn’t in the most awkward three seconds of his life.  “Alright, that’s enough of that,” Ghost mumbles finally and stands up, wincing at his cracking knees as he does.  “Dinner?”

[velvet-paradox]

Heartstrings (Part One)

Fandom: Sleep Token (Band) Pairing: eventual Vessel x Female reader Length: Medium Summary: Memories haunt our beloved frontman, some he'd like to forget and some he's been hiding. Warnings: eventual NSFW, 18 + ONLY, strong language, tobacco use, alcohol consumption, supernatural (no, not the show) element, a twisted little game. Tagging: @synnersaint as always, @megangovier20 

NOTES: I’ll be reposting to @roman-is-a-horse as well as that’s my little hole in the wall for all things masked men and Sleep Token

ENJOY!!!

He's exhausted. He's all sweat and grit, dirt beneath his fingernails, mud on his boots. 

He could care less. 

What he needed was sleep. Glorious, pillow soft sleep. And the deity let him. 

He dreamt of monkey bars, chipped green paint, orange creme popsicles, a dizzy tire swing blurring in the distance, a familiar face hanging upside down from a wound up swing set. The air is light and the sun is high. He learned why ancient Egyptians rimmed their eyes with kohl. Learned the proper pronunciation for Persephone. Had his first kiss. Got into his first of many, fist fights and tasted blood and why you don't pick at knuckle scabs. The taste of woodchips. 

And then he met you.

Vessel woke with a jolt, restless leg syndrome, jerking him at the worst of times but helpful on the stage. 

"You're pretty when you cry." That silky voice that lulled him to the dreamworld sang down to him. Above his head, resting oh so carefully upon his pillow was Sleep, taking the form of a smoky red cat with six black slits for eyes. The deity grinned sharp, bone white fangs before leaping into the air at Vessel's recognition that he was indeed crying, his cheeks and lips streaked with salt. Sleep hung in the air above him, wagging its tail.

"Bad dream?" Sleep asked, resting its face on its paws like some teenager, coiling the phone cord, awaiting the latest hallway gossip.

"I'm fine," Vessel sniffled and turned on his side, an attempt to ignore his maker.

Sleep rolled onto its' back, little red paws pointing up to the ceiling before floating in front of his face and purred. "That's not what I asked."

Vessel blamed it on his uncomfortableness, the bed was cold and the sheets icy against his bare legs. Sleep wasn't buying it, squinting all six eyes at him as he tossed and turned for the rest of the night. ....

"That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, brother, get used to it."

"You big troll, that's the last can!"

"Watch it you little gremlin or I'll step on you and put you out like a light."

Brotherly threats floated up stairs along with the smell of someone cooking breakfast. Cinnamon butter, scrambled eggs, no doubt since his heathen brothers refused to eat them any other way. Roasted earthy mushrooms, peppered bacon.

Vessel clung to the staircase watching three others maneuver around someone's rented home in the highlands. Through a large bay window he could make out the silky green grass and sparkling yellow daffodils dancing in the wind.

SpaghettiOs. 

III and IV were giving II shit in between grabbing plates, poor thing was jumping up and missing terribly the can of the tomato sauced rings. Vessel shook his head and jumped down the last two steps before they all stuttered to a stop, III hid the can behind his back as if he were about to be scolded.

"Never gets old, huh?" He asked and snagged a piece of less burnt bacon.

"Not a chance." III resumed his taunts until II gave up, growling low in his throat and angrily shut off the stovetop, marching outside into the daylight.

"Package came for you this morning." IV mumbled through a mouthful of eggs as he found him out on the porch swing. Vessel took the box with more questions than answers.

"Who knows we're here?"

IV shrugged and joined him on the bench, crossing his legs as the wooden slats swayed.

Vessel looked it over. Just a standard brown box, wrapped in a weeks worth of clear packing tape. Just several stamps -international corners, a beating or two in a mail office dented one of the boxes sides. He took the switchblade IV handed him, scoring the edged until it came loose.

He shook whatever was hidden, another box came tumbling out into his lap along with a folded piece of cardstock. He handed it over. Though as he dug around inside, he should've looked at the note first because IV's eyes, already on the large spectrum, had bloomed into bright blue saucers.

"What? What is it?"

"Look and see."

Vessel dropped the note to the ground as it were on fire. Explosive. A grenade of nostalgia and pain, if not sudden death.

ARE YOU GAME?

No.

No no no no no.

He could feel IV's eyes on him as he fumbled with the spare box, careful with the folds, peeling back the layers on carefully placed and wrapped tissue paper. His fingers ghosted over the jewelry or what was left of it before holding it up in the afternoon sun.

Vessel began to panic, anxiety was never far from him as he thumbed over one of the personally laid coins like a treasured rosary and if he were totally honest; it was just that. ....

Vessel had recently gotten into a band called Immortal the previous summer, expressing himself in a similar manner of covering his face (still experimenting with paint on his hands, he was always on the look out for the best greasepaint his first high school job could afford), in black and white paint, cut off jackets and ripped denim. Had attempted to look as cool as possible with a cigarette behind his ear. He never smoked it, just toyed with his mothers' addiction. The girls dug it so there was always that.

His friends chased squirrels until the popular girls noticed them, could've been a dare, could've been a prank but that didn't stop them from turning and chasing them instead. Their shrills squeals of laughter sang through the halls, tickled pink for attention in the back of classrooms.

The boys had ditched him once again as they left him at the playground, holding on to his bullet belt as he made his way, by foot, across town towards his job. He was going to be late, but the owner of the coffee shop couldn't care less; he was probably a few beers in as it was only three that Saturday afternoon. 

Louie could really pound them down.

He was almost there when he stopped short. There on a park bench were a pair of shapely legs. Just sitting there in the air. Torn fishnets with shin high striped socks and boots, scuffed and beat up, much like his own when he looked down.

He crept by slowly, curious if they were a mannequin's legs or if they were real or, God forbid they were just that. No body attached! How scandalous! 

A murderer on the loose and Vessel would be the first witness to the crime. His stomach had flipped at that.

But still, the young man proceeded forward, cautiously now as he left his usual path and got closer, squinting when he saw one of the ankles twitch. 

Vessel made calculated steps around he bench and saw- gratefully of course, that the legs were indeed attached to a body, the body of a girl his age that he'd never seen before. She was laying upside down with her eyes closed, arms bent and on the ground beneath her head so she wouldn't roll off and crack her skull. An opened can of SpaghettiOs sat next to her, along with a sad looking purse.

"What are you doing?" 

"What's it look like I'm doing, smart guy? 'm thinkin'." Was her response. She didn't even bother to open her eyes and acknowledged him. Foreigner for sure, he thought.

"Upside down?"

"I get all the cobwebs out better this way," then she cracked one eyes open, searching for him in this state and she smiled, the brightest smile he'd ever seen on a person. Stunning. Absolutely fucking stellar. "You should try it."

"Doesn't all the blood rush to your head like that?" Vessel turned his head to see her face better.

"That's the point, silly! When my brain talks to much the best way to shut her up is to rush her out, let her out. Come on, try it. There's plenty of room." She quipped and wiggled over in the bench, using her hands for leverage.

Vessel looked at his watch; twenty minutes until his shift started and he'd need to be there and get his apron on and punch in his timecard and Louie might not be drunk and waiting for him patently at the doors with a pained expression and angry, uncaffeinated patron waiting to get their fix.

He had trouble moving his body and wincing when one of the bullets jabbed his hip bone, but all in all he managed her similar position. Fucking wild. His jacket creaked when he moved his hands to the earth below, mimicking her position.

"Good job. Now watch me. Just breathe in and out like this, don't think about anything other than that and you'll be clear as a Koi fish pond."

He frowned but went along with it, looking at her as instructed he slowly shut his eyes, long legs growing tired he let them hang over the back of the bench instead and controlled his breathing.

He wasn't thinking about school or work, his thesis he had yet to start that was due in two weeks time. Not what he was going to have for dinner or which skirt II was trying to get under this week. Probably Jessica. II was always after Jessica.

"See. How do you feel now?" She asked. 

Vessel couldn't even answer her at first, too caught up in the sensations, more aware of her perfume when his senses kicked into overdrive with his heartbeat pounding in his ears like this.

"Weightless. Clear." He mumbled.

"Exactly."

Then her hand was on his, carefully he opened his eyes and his world felt like his house of cards were about to tumble down if he breathed too loudly. 

"I'm Y/N." ....

He thought about you as he ran the rest of the way to coffee shop, the little blue and white striped awning coming into view as his boots pounded pavement. He was just seconds away from being late, clocking in just in time and wrapping a brown apron around his jacket in the backroom.

He thought about as he rang up a pretty dark skinned girl, fresh faced and smiling at him.

He thought about you when a crotchety old woman barked her order and waited too close to the counter until he could brew it, which she made him do it twice. He thought about you when a regular by the name of Johnny Two-Step came in, grooving to the beat of whatever song which was playing softly in the background. 

He thought about you on the walk home, every park bench he passed by, with his hands in his pockets were shockingly empty.

Would he ever see you again?

Where you from? What were you doing here in this small seaside town? And why were you eating cold SpaghettiOs right from the can like a cat with a tin of tuna? ....

"Straight from the can?!" III asked the following day, sitting on his roof with an open notebook, ready for some action along with a stolen can of his father's beer. It would go unnoticed. They always went unnoticed.

III's dad would give a shrug and mumble about needing to slow down though he never did, he just went out and bought more, stocking the fridge in the garage for the next day.

"Never seen anything like it."

"I would hope not! Sounds like she's a screw or two loose."

"Maybe."

Maybe you did. Maybe you were what his mother would call 'quirky' or carefree, the possibility of being a hellion might be written in the stars for you too. Either way Vessel was into it.

"No no no, that's not how you do it. Here, you're just gonna' make a mess of it. Now look, you take the can like this..."

Vessel couldn't help be drawn into the kitchen of a house party a few weeks later, he'd toyed with the cigarette again, holding between his two front teeth as some girl in an obscenely short dress chatted him up outside. He told her to hold that thought and maneuvered through the bodies. Sweat and beer lingered on the air, music pulsed and couples and a possible throuple but Vessel's standards were making out in a dim corner.

The snap of a beer can had him joining the little circle around the sink. A few guys cheered. A few girls made noises, he couldn't decipher whether it was a good or a bad thing at the moment.

Vessel towered over the group, watching II wipe his mouth over the sink before slipping his trusty balaclava back up over his nose. He saw someone and when he looked, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline in an instant.

It was you.

It was really you!

You cheered in delight, gave him a high five and grinned.

"Whose next? How about you pretty lady?" You waved Jessica over, who was shy at first but followed your lead in her pink and yellow bellbottoms and halter top.

After your next shotgun you hugged Jessica who looked worse for wear and slumped against II who was more than happy to help her stand and move out out of the kitchen. II passed him in the doorway, giving him a fist bump to the shoulder, talking to his love interest, lost in the haze of beer and clouds of weed smoke.

"You! There you are you big tall drink of water."

Vessel turned just in time to see you, focused and barreling straight towards him, a look of drunken excitement on your face. You weren't stopping and then you were lunging at him, embracing him in a hug that should feel all sorts of foreign and wrong but... was welcomed and warm and you smell like floral perfume and beer foam.

You looked up at him with silly grin. "Hi."

"Hi yourself. Having a bit of fun I see."

"Wanna' shotgun a beer with me?"

"Maybe later. How many have you had already?"

You made a goofy sound in your throat, released his waist and took his wrist in your hands, dragging him outside. Something made of glass shattered somewhere inside the house as you two ducked out and sat down in a little gazebo on the property. Vines and little white flowers coiled up and around the lattice.

"You gonna' smoke that?" You asked, digging those same weathered boots into the dirt.

"You want it?"

"Can I share it with you?"

"You can have it. I actually don't smoke."

Your expressions ranged and rivaled those of a comic strip as you looked at him. "What the what?! You don't smoke, yet you just casually have a cigarette behind your ear?"

Vessel shrugged. "It's just an accessory at this point."

"Next thing you'll be telling me is you're not a real jester!"

"A jester?"

"The makeup! You're not a clown either? Some practicing mime? Although if you were a mime you wouldn't be talking, would you?" You drunkenly mused and Vessel wondered how many beers you’d already rushed into your bloodstream.

Vessel snorted and shook his head. "Afraid not. I'm just a guy."

"A handsome guy." You huffed and lit up the cigarette, leaning back on your elbows as you smoked.

Vessel snorted, unaffected by the tobacco hanging around your heads as you both looked up at the moon. Tethered to it's soft glow over the treetops. "I've been called a lot of things, but handsome ain't one of them."

You bolted upright, cigarette renting space between your teeth and burning his eyes as you grabbed his face like you were old friends. 

"That's a damn shame. I'm going to make it my mission to tell you everyday I see you how good you look. Even if you are talking mime!"

Part Two Part Three

[angelsdevils]

Debt of the Heart

Tag List: @reiners-milkbiddies @maraya-007 @shelly-ya @galactict3a @bontensbabygirl @thisbicc

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Playlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chaper 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 |

The rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains of the massive room in Ran’s mansion, causing you to tug the silk sheets over your head. You were exhausted, after everything that happened yesterday.

After you guys arrived at Ran’s mansion yesterday, he had hired people to bring your stuff in the mansion, though you didn’t have much, everything only fitting into one or two suitcases. He insisted that you both should share a bedroom because you were a married couple now. You protested and you both agreed the first week, you will sleep in the guest room but after that you will move into his room.  

Now, it was morning again, and you didn’t want to leave bed. For the first time, you didn’t have to wake up for work because he didn’t want you working in that café anymore. It was a new day, and you didn’t know what to do. You could explore your new home, or you could stay in bed. You were going to opt into staying in bed, but then your stomach growled. You didn’t hear the familiar sound of the coffee pot or the familiar sound of sizzling bacon, which only made you miss home.

You got dressed, deciding to stay in something comfortable yet still acceptable. You treaded down the stairs, your bare feet silently moving down the stairs. There wasn’t a creek which only made the mansion more eerie.

In the dining room, a breakfast spread awaited you. Ran sat at the table, he looked up and gave you his famous, charming smile.

“Good morning, I hope you got the rest you needed.” His tone was gentle, as he watched you sit across from you.

“I wasn’t sure what you normally ate, so I made sure you would have a variety to choose from,” he said.

“This… is too much, I would have been fine with eggs, pancakes and bacon or even toast.” You said, looking at the food laid out before you. You noticed there were different Japanese dishes laid out, but also a mix of western style too. So, you settled for toast, bacon, eggs, and mixed fruit.

You ate in silence, and he set his phone down.

“(Y/N), I know this is difficult for you,” he said softly. “But I want you to feel comfortable here. This is your home, so if there is anything you need, don’t be afraid to ask. Anything to help you adjust to this new life.”

You looked up and nodded your head. Your face didn’t change as you kept your emotions at bay. “I just need some time; this is a lot to take in.”

Ran nodded his head with a soft smile and he grasped your hand gently in his.

“Got any plans today? I have work, so I won’t be able to stay here all day, with you,” he said.

“I was either going to bed rot, or explore, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind if you decide to explore,” he said. He smiled and you nodded as you finished your breakfast. He stood up with you and kissed your forehead. “Have a good day, and here. This is your own bank card, buy what you want.”

With that he left the mansion, leaving you alone. You looked at the bank card, it was black with golden designs on it, your first and last name was engraved on it. Well, your new last name was on it. (Y/N) Haitani.  You set the card down and left to explore the mansion.

You roamed around the mansion to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. The place was huge and Ran had a lot of cars. After a few hours she came across one of the sitting rooms, and inside had a huge piano. It stood in the center of the room facing away from the door, gleaming under the sun rays. She walked close to it, her fingers lightly brushing the keys.

Memories flood her mind as she remembered playing it all the time. She hadn’t played in years, but muscle memory came back as she sat down and began to play one of her favorite songs she used to sing with her dad. For a few moments she lost herself in the melody, forgetting the turmoil of her current situation. She sang softly, yet beautifully.

“You tucked me in, turned out the lights, kept me safe and sound at night. Little girls depend on things like that. Brushed and combed my hair, had to drive me everywhere. You were always there when I looked back. You had to do it all alone, make a livin’ make a home. Must have been as hard as it could be. And when I couldn’t sleep at night, scared things wouldn’t turn out right. You would hold my hand and sing to me. Caterpillar in the tree. How you wonder who you’ll be, can’t go far but you can always dream. Wish you may and wish you might, don’t you worry, hold on tight. I promise you, there will come a day, Butterfly, fly away. Butterfly, fly away, butterfly, fly away. Flap your wings, now you can’t stay. Take those dreams and make them all come true. Butterfly, fly away, butterfly, fly away. We’ve been waiting for this day. All along and knowing just what to do. Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, fly away.”

You continued to play the song, humming along with the lyrics. You were unaware that you weren’t alone or that you were being recorded by your brother-in-law. When you finished playing, Ran had already left before you even noticed him. You got up and stretched your arms, before deciding you wanted to shower and lay down. You did enough exploring for one day and found your new safe haven. After your shower, you crawled into bed, and scrolled through your phone. Your friends were busy in school and working, so you didn’t want to disturb them, so you decided to take a small nap.

You woke up to the feeling of someone stroking your eyes fluttered open, meeting Ran’s. He gave you a smile.

“Ran? What time is it?”

“It’s 4:00, I just got off work.”

You sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“I slept for too long, it was only supposed to be a nap.”

“Well, you have been lacking sleep, you just needed the rest. Here, I got you a gift.”

“I don’t want it,” you said getting out of the bed, but Ran gently grasps your wrist.

“Open it at least,” he said. You sighed softly, taking the small box. You hesitated to open the box to see a gorgeous hairpin in the shape of a butterfly. It had small diamonds on the rings. “I noticed you like to wear hairpins a lot, so I saw this and thought of you.”

“Thank you,” you said. You put the hairpin on your vanity, not trying it on. Ran was hoping you would wear it but decided it would take some time.

“Anyway, what do you want for dinner?”

“I am fine with anything,” you said. He nodded his head, texting someone.

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

[erxxi3]

Bliss! You're an amazing writer that needs an Idea?

Since it's Easter! What about a Fluff fic of RE4R Leon and Reader doing an Easter Egg hunt, proposing to Reader with a Golden egg as the ring is inside! It sounds so cute😭

Idea is so vivid making me picture this and make fake scenarios before I go to sleep, but yes I love this idea!

This is so cute Leon egg hunting with the reader <;33

— Egg Hunting Proposal

Pairings: Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: Leon takes you easter egg hunting in town square, he planned a secret proposal and you had challenged leon in finding the golden egg bc you get this amazing prize, and when he found it he called you over to him getting down on one knee….

Cw. Straight up just fluff, egg hunting w Leon who is dressed in a suit with bunny ears on, the reader admiring the cute children running around them and hunting for eggs, kissing, hand holding, and leon proposing to the reader in front of almost everyone all eyes on both of you. NOT PROOF READ!

Character Count: 10.7k

Waking up on a late sunday morning was never quite as pleasant and relaxing as it had been in the summer. Even if one didn’t have a very strict work schedule at the moment. The sky outside their large bay window, though still heavily overcast with dark grey clouds, was already beginning to lighten into soft pinks and oranges.

There were two things that could make waking up so much more tolerable than this. One would be a fresh cup of coffee and the other would probably be the smell of freshly brewed pancakes and bacon frying. As you turned around and stretched your arms above your head you noticed something missing from the bed besides the empty space. You sat up and looked around. It took you a moment or two, but eventually your eyes landed on a sticky note that was on the table reading.

`I went to get groceries, but I might be back and now cooking breakfast for you, love. <3 ` After you read the note you headed. out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen, which your boyfriend smiled at you, looking up from his spot in front of the stove. “Morning. Hope you slept well, my love.” You kissed him softly and nodded. “Mmm...it was good.” You replied. “Did you have any trouble?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head and smiled warmly at him. He was an excellent cook who loved to learn new recipes, especially ones that seemed to appeal to his creative side. But, most importantly, he was always extremely kind and considerate even when cooking, just like everything else about him was. You loved that about him. “It was perfect actually.” you said. “Thank you, honey.” He added and gave you another quick kiss, then continued making breakfast. Your job was simply to keep him company while he cooked. Then he checked his phone and got a reminder that today was easter, which he had knew and also forgotten.

He cursed under his breath and looked up at you apologetically. You just chuckled at his silly expression. His face broke into a grin as soon as he saw the look on your face. “What is it?” You asked. “No, nothing…” he said with a smile. “Well then….what is it?” you asked again. This time he let out a sigh before answering. “I forgot that today is the day that we celebrate…” ‘’What do you mean by celebrate?” You asked. “Easter….you know….the holiday that everyone celebrates?” he responded with a hint of amusement in his voice and a small shrug. You couldn’t help laughing.

This wasn’t the first time someone forgot that Easter celebrated this day too, but it certainly hadn’t happened often before.

“Oh….yeah..I kinda forgot about it. What did you plan on doing?” He shrugged again. “I don’t know...maybe we could go to town square? Just to take a break and relax before the next long week of work.” He finished with a smirk on his lips, which you returned with a fond shake of your head and a sigh.

“Sounds great…” you said and leaned in to kiss him again. “Now eat up, baby, or it will be crowded by the time we get there.” You told him with a wink. That made him chuckle. He nodded and began cutting up his food.

After both of you had eaten and cleaned up the dishes from breakfast, they got ready to leave for town square, where people were already gathering. As the two of you walked hand in hand towards town center, they talked about what they planned to do during the week and whether or not they would do anything special with each other.

You found yourself thinking about how much you loved the feeling of your hand being held by his, intwined by a bond that cannot be broken. The two of you walking in the park, waiting for the egg hunt to start you were watching the children play and enjoying themselves immensely.

There were many different games and activities going on everywhere: there were games and games, and people running through the park chasing each other around, trying to catch them as they ran away from you.

At one point, one girl tried to throw one of her eggs into the air and catch it with the net attached to the end of a stick. She succeeded, but only after she fell down and scraped her knee. Her mother rushed over to her and helped her up. You laughed at the sight of the little girl’s mother fussing over her daughter, who was clearly embarrassed. You thought to yourself that it would be a blesssing to have a child of your own someday. Your partner must have sensed you thinking these thoughts because he squeezed your hand gently, letting you know he was listening.

A smile grew on your face at the thought of having a kid one day. When the egg hunt started a group of kids came sprinting past you on their way to their next target: a basket full of eggs. It reminded you of when you were little, yet you could still make memories similar.

The speakers propped around town went off `Egg hunt will begin in two minutes`, followed by a countdown of three.

All of the children ran back to where their family was standing and started playing. You and Leon joined meeting up at the plaza to begin, not having pay attention to the fact that Leon had been talking to the mayor.

After saying hi and taking pictures, you were on your way to the eggs when a little girl had gotten lost from her group and ended up behind you and beside Leon, who happened to be standing right in front of you. The little girl was holding a large stuffed rabbit, with its ears drooping sadly and its big sad eyes peering up at you. You felt like you needed to say something to comfort the child. “Oh...poor thing.” You said softly as you crouched down to her level and picked her up in your arms. The girl looked up at you with huge doe eyes and sniffled, “Thank you.” you smiled at her and put her back on the ground.

“Do you need anything else while you wait, sweetheart?” She grabbed both Leon’s and your hand leading you to the golden egg in the middle of the square. “Here, take this!” She offered Leon the egg. He took it in surprise and looked at it for some time. “Um…is this what you want?” you asked, looking back at the girl, nodding vigorously. “Okay…” Leon replied with a smile, tucking the egg inside his basket, as he went to do something.

You reached out to the child, but stopped short when you heard another voice behind you. You turned around quickly, expecting another little kid to collect her. It wasn’t, but Instead it was Leon taking the golden egg out of his basket lowering himself down on one knee as he faced the you. Opening the golden egg to a beautiful silver ring, looking into your eyes, “My heart, my soul, and all of my treasures towards the one girl I love. Would you marry me, Y/N?” He asked softly. You looked up at him, tears filling up the corners of your eyes.

“Yes!” you cried. You dropped to your knees in front of him and took his hands in yours, smiling up at him brightly. “Yes, of course I will, my love. Of course I will.” You answered. He smiled at you, his eyes filled with happiness. You wrapped both of your arms around his neck and stood up. As soon as you did he pulled you close and placed his soft lips on yours. Kissing him deeply and passionately.

You could hear the crowd cheering around the square, but all you could concentrate on was Leon.

You didn't care about anything else, you could have been kissing anyone, but you knew that it was him and only him that mattered.

He pulled you closer and you rested your forehead against his, smiling into his skin. Your hands moved up to his face and stroked his cheeks lightly. Your thumbs brushing across his slightly chubby cheeks before resting against the corners of his lips. He opened his mouth to speak when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Both of you separated abruptly, turning around, surprised that someone was there. The little girl from earlier had taken the basket of eggs from his arms and was looking at them with wide eyes as well as a shy and confused smile on her lips. You knelt down and smiled at her. “Hello, dear….do you need anything?” you asked. “Uh….no….” She mumbled, but still looking up at you with big round eyes and said, “Could you braid my hair?” You grinned widely and looked back at Leon who had a loving look on his face.

“Of course, why didn't you ask sooner!?” You exclaimed excitedly,Leon took the basket from you and you kneeled down in front of the girl. You carefully brushed her messy blonde hair, which reached her shoulders, to either side of her face. The little girl giggled at your actions and you couldn’t help but smile as well as you braided her hair.

Once done you let her sit on your lap as you tied the last knot with a blue ribbon you had brought with you earlier in case your hair was in your face. You stood up with the girl in your arms. “You have such pretty hair, missy.” You commented as you admired her braid. She nodded and then looked up at you with a grin.

As the three of you continued to walk down the street together, the little girl began talking, telling you about how fun it was to be here, and also explaining to you how much fun Easter was to everyone. You and Leon had listened carefully to every word she said, even though it was a bit hard for you to understand because most of the words seemed to come out of left field sometimes.

Yet, it somehow didn't matter because you didn't need to understand everything she was saying, just enough to listen to what she had to say until you saw her mom walking towards the two of you. “Thank you for watching my daughter, I was worried sick where she could have went!” the woman said as she gave you a hug. You patted her on the back and replied, “It’s no trouble, really, any parent would have been scared if their child disappeared.” She smiled at you and kissed her daughter on the cheek, causing you and Leon to smile too.

“So…where should we go now?” Leon said, grabbing your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, and giving it a small squeeze. You shrugged “We should be heading home and spending the rest of the day together.”

“Sounds nice.” Leon agreed and began making his way slowly backwards toward your house. Before you got too far ahead of him, Leon turned towards you and asked with a mischievous look on his face “How about we have a little getaway party?” You chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him “A little getaway party? That sounds like a lot of work…”

“Come on, you know you want to~” Leon smirked at you seductively. You stared at him for a moment longer before rolling your eyes playfully and walking faster so you could pull away from him. Leon laughed aloud and ran after you, trying to keep up with your speed, which you knew you could easily overtake. By the time you had caught up to him again, you both doubled over with laughter, and then you began walking back home.

[masonmiamor]

breakfast in bed - small mason blurb.

made this super quick since i couldn’t fall asleep

your eyes desperately wanted to open but the feeling of dryness made you rub your eyes. you could feel your hair messy and all over the place as you propped yourself on your forearm on the bed. you yawned louder than usually and stared out the bay window. the sunrise being replaced with a bright sun, but the tints of pink, purple and orange tones still present.

you looked over behind you and saw the empty space, you laid back down annoyed that you couldn’t wake up next to mason. you checked the time and saw it was over a little 8 am. you contemplate whether to get up and be productive or lay down for a few minutes that would turn to two more hours of slumber. you yawned for the second time in a span of five minutes and sat up against the headboard.

you tied your hair into a small pony attempting to brush the flyaways back as well. you saw the open chat with yours and mason’s conversation beginning to text him “good morning”. you looked up and your heart began to race as you heard small and quiet steps coming up the stairs. you grabbed the remote next to you prepared to throw it or defend yourself with.

the white door opened and it revealed a shirtless mason carrying a wooden tray with what presumed to be breakfast. he saw your aw face and blushed a bit, he placed the tray on your lap and kissed your temple, “good morning gorgeous. nice hair you got,” he joked to which you rolled your eyes playfully.

“ha ha. very funny. what’s all this?” you asked, waving your hand to the set in front of you. he had made scrambled eggs with a side of crispy bacon, toast to your liking with cream cheese, a small bowl of fruit, your daily vitamins, and coffee to your preference. “just wanted to make you something during my day off,” he smirked.

“you’re off today? how come?”

“just wanted to spend today with you, that's all. we haven't had time to spend together and i was missing my beautiful girl like crazy,” mason admits. he sits to the right of you watching as you take a sip of your coffee from the white mug and humming in delight. “thank you for this. now come help me eat. you need your protein as well.”

you grab his chin gently and give him a kiss on the lips thanking him for breakfast again, his stubble ticking the palm of your hand. “i’ll never get tired of you doing that. till this day you make me nervous,” he confesses and laughs, his freckled cheeks blushing profusely. you giggle as you eat your fruit bowl, “trust me i feel the same way handsome.”

the two of you eat quietly and play the news in the background to be kept up to date with what’s going on. he watches your every move, from the way you smile, talk and wave with your hands, and as you gently place your small hand on his bicep when you laugh. “since you're off today i was thinking we did something later in the evening?” you asked curiously squinting an eye as you saw him nod.

“what did you have in mind to do?” he spoke, rubbing his larger veiny hand along your bare thigh. “i was thinking we go to that restaurant we have been fancing going to, i’ll pay, and then walk around the city, join a club and have a drink together?” you say taking the last final bite of your egg, now starting on your toast.

“sounds great, but i’m paying, not you,” mason says but you refuse. “no no no. i’m inviting you so i’m paying. you paid last time and you know how i get mase,” you groaned slightly. he kisses your lips softly, feeling the tingles run down your spine when he does. “i know i did but i love paying and spoiling you. let me pay today?”

“no. you already made me breakfast in bed, it’s my turn,” you said. “fine. i guess,” mason says, in his head already planning to call the place to change the payment method to his information. he watches as you get up, your shirt rising up as you stretch, he gazes at your bare things and lacey underwear. “i love you mason.”

“i love you too y/n.”

he sees as you walk into the restroom closing the door when you’re inside, he hears the water run “and don’t even think about calling the place. i changed the reservation under a different name so goodluck,” you scream out. he laughs at himself and decides to join you in the bathroom.

“did you forget who i am sweetheart? i’m mason mount? i can easily make them cancel a reservation and place it under my info,” he says, wrapping his warm arms around your waist, snuggling his head in between your neck. you turn around and cock your head to the side smiling at him.

“you wanna play that game i see? do it and you’ll never see the headset again,” you say. he tenses and looks up to make eye contact with you. “fine you win. hurry let’s get in! i’m getting colder by the minute standing here,” he shivers.

“let’s go.”

[idontknowreallywhy]

Got myself in a cycle of stress editing / rewriting particular piece which will not go the way I want. So I abandoned it for now and challenged myself to just write a one-off scene that has lived in my head for a long time with no going back and editing or adjusting but just a linear splurge of words and silliness.

It’s entirely ridiculous but here it is anyway (with an affectionate nudge to @crunchyluigi @obeyweegee214 @galaxytransman)

It’s a Secret No-One Knows

6pm on Tracy island and all was quiet as Scott made his way up the stairs into the lounge.

Virgil, Gordon and Alan were still in the air on the way back from a tricky mine rescue in Northern Europe. He was grateful that success had been confirmed on comms as he’d been on the point of ignoring John’s pointed comments about flight hours and heading north.

He’d have been there with them of course if, when the call came in, he and One hadn’t already been plucking panicking, inexperienced climbers off of one of his favourite crags in the Blue Mountains. His nimble ship was always the most suited to such environments and frankly he could have done it in his sleep.

Oh, but it was such a waste of his time and fuel! Enough awful disasters happened around the world every day without people putting themselves into danger because they were more focussed on researching what shots they wanted for their vlog than on the rating of the climb they were undertaking. The names the Aussies had assigned to each route didn’t exactly help - the latest gaggle of idiots had got half way up “Does my Bum Look Big On This?” wearing entirely inappropriate shorts for the weather and got themselves tangled in each others’ safety lines while trying to take selfies from a distinctly unorthodox angle. It had taken every last ounce of self-restraint he had not to accidentally drop their phones into the ravine.

And the next one to use the word ‘gnarly’ was going to experience an Incident with the passenger loading bay door.

Over the ocean.

At Mach 19.

When had young people got so ridiculous?

And when had he stopped being one? He sighed and dragged his hands down his face. Damn, he really was getting old and grumpy.

And probably hangry, now he thought about it. Well that was fixable even if the inexorable march towards irrelevant middle age was not. He made a beeline for the fridge and found himself uninspired by the array of pre-prepared high calorie low effort snacks they usually favoured post mission. He craved something… nutritious…

Ignoring the imagined old-man mockery of the younger brothers who resided in his brain, he pulled out every fresh ingredient they had in stock: Eggs, bacon, sausages, three types of cheese, peppers, spring onions, basil… ah Ha! He knew exactly what this was going to be. A quick rummage in the larder turned up a bag of potatoes and he hefted it over his shoulder, flicking the switch on grandma’s ancient radio as he went past.

Ooh, ‘Happy 90s Hour’ was starting. One of his guilty pleasures as a teenager in the early 50s…

The repetitive peeling and dicing task combined with the irrepressibly cheery pop bangers slowly eased the knot of grouchiness in his chest. By the time he scooped the mountain of potato cubes into the dustbin-lid sized frying pan he was singing along with both halves of the Barbie Girl duet. A pleasing sizzling ensued and he grinned to himself. This was going to be epic. A little prodding with the spatula to cook them evenly then he turned the heat down and did a little slide sideways to fetch the meat and a shuffle and a hop back to add them to the pan.

As John popped up on the kitchen comm, his big brother was too busy volta-ing through the kitchen with a cheese grater to notice. Because you can’t just walk across a room when Ricky Martin is playing. John’s quizzical single eyebrow was rapidly joined by its twin as he spotted the pan on the stove… he cut the connection and leapt into the elevator, sending a message to Virgil to put his proverbial foot down.

Frittata Night was not to be trifled with.

And so it was that all four younger brothers took the elevator up from the hangar together and arrived in a state of some excitement for the culinary experience that awaited them.

As the door opened however Virgil threw out his arms to prevent them piling out. The chatter stopped immediately as they peered round the wall of brother to spy their eldest dancing to and fro at the stove and belting out the words to some ancient pop song:

So hold on to the ones who care

In the end they’ll be the only ones there

When you get old and start losing your hair

Can you tell me who will still caaaaare?

As the chorus dropped so did the jaws of Alan and Gordon for who knew their biggest brother could move his hips like that? And why was he waving the spatula that way? Alan looked wide eyed to John and pointed with a shaking hand as if to ensure his space brother was seeing the same thing he was. John, didn’t acknowledge him, instead staring straight ahead, tapping a finger on the doorframe in time with the beat. Gordon turned to Virgil unable to verbalise beyond “bu.. bu… bu…” only to find his tank of a brother smiling broadly and… his jaw dislocated further… also swaying his hips in time.

Then he was gone.

… And so was John!

Both of them jigging across the floor to join their brother in an honest to goodness dance routine while the three of them sang nonsense words. Alan lost control of his knees and collapsed cross-legged to the floor. Gordon desperately tried to grab his phone to record the moment but fumbled and dropped it down the back of the couch. And then it was over.

And there was frittata.

And if the Tinies were unusually quiet during the meal, the elder three didn’t notice as each treasured the memories of their little dance trio ‘performing’ for their biggest fan. While eating her signature dish.

Fin.

*****

You want the dance routine? Course not… but here is is anyway (Scott starts singing at about 0:40, chorus and excellent hip action kick in at about 0:52)

Edit to add: Weirdly specific note because the precise image is apparently super important to me (clearly been sucked in by the child watching Strictly) and because I forgot there are two types of Volta… this is the move I mean - the samba one (skip to 1:44 of the video and it’s just a few seconds).

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Act II- Chapter Eighteen Mukozuke

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Crying, Implied Death, Death, Attempted Murder/Assassination, Cannibalism, Talks of Attempted Suicide

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY-

a sharp knife as it opens an OYSTER, and then another… BACON sizzles as it is laid in a hot pan. the fat blisters and then POPS with a stinging hiss… An EGG as it flies up in the air and comes down – CRACK! -- on the back of the sharp knife. The chef twists his wrist -- the Benihana trick -- and magically, the egg yolk and white drop where he wants them.

An ESPRESSO MACHINE sucks and DRIPS into a china cup. A REFRIGERATOR door opens and hands reach in to take a PITCHER OF JUICE. The refrigerator door CLOSES. Reveal HANNIBAL LECTER, in his bathrobe, as he places his ingredients on the plate to create a beautiful breakfast.

BSHCI - WILL GRAHAM'S CELL - DAY-

Is placed on the table. WILL GRAHAM, in shorts and T-shirt, sits and regards his reconstituted eggs with distaste. Around him, the sounds of the asylum waking up.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - DAY-

Hannibal places the breakfast tray in front of Jack who still wears a rumpled suit from the night before. He takes in the food. Hannibal sits opposite. “You have to eat something, Jack. You've been up all night. Feed the body, feed the mind.” Jack stares at the food for a long moment, then: “She knew she couldn't beat the cancer, so she was going to beat it to the finish line. One way or another, she was going to win. It's a strange cocktail of pride and despair.”

“One way or another, she will. All you can do is hope she finds more reasons to live than not to.” Hannibal says as he looks to the stressed and dishelvled man. “I can't blame her for wanting to control how she dies.” Jack says softly, he just wants to understand why he isnt enough of a reason for his wife to stay alive.  “I believe those who can no longer function at an acceptable level have the right to die.” Hannibal says genuinely “She cast you in the role of executioner. She wanted you to let her die. I'm grateful you didn't.” Jack says as he struggles with his emotion, tries to keep it at bay. “As a doctor, I had no choice. As a philosopher, I had too many. It wasn't what I could do for Bella, it was what I couldn't do to you. I'm a better friend than therapist.” Hannibal says honestly as he takes a bite of his own food. 

“You're a great friend. My wife is alive and I feel like I'm mourning a loss. There's a numbness where relief should be.” Jack says as Hannibal studies Him, genuinely sympathetic. “Do you think she'll try again?” Jack asks with pained eyes.

“I don't know. Bella wanted to die. Your wife took actions to die. I violated her trust stopping her.” Hannibal answers honestly. “You may have violated her trust, Hannibal, but you've earned mine.” Jack says as Hannibal is considering this.

BSHCI - WILL GRAHAM'S CELL - DAY-

Hannibal Lecter stands opposite Will Graham's cell. Will stands beyond the bars, appraising him. “Surprised Chilton let you see me. Said I was no longer your patient. I'm under his exclusive care.” Will says as he turns around. “Unfortunately, I had to insist. Were you lying to me, Will? When you told me you wanted my help?” Hannibal asks, usually he wouldve brought Y/N to these but he feels as though she shouldnt be here today. 

“No.” Will acknowledges. “Dr. Chilton accused me of using unorthodox therapies during our conversations. Suggested that I drove you to kill.” Hannibal says “That's not what I believe.” Will approaches the bars, lowers his voice. Hannibal steps closer to better hear as Will's volume is but a whisper. “Chilton gave me a narcoanalytic. Said it was sodium amytal. But it was more than that. It felt like a hypnotic. Midazolam or temazepam.” Will  says gently and cautiously. 

“Hypnotics that alter perception and render you easily suggestible.”

“I remembered strobing lights in your office. You putting a needle in my arm, injecting me.”

“What was happening while you were experiencing this memory?” Hannibal asks. “Chilton was doing the same. Putting a needle in my arm, injecting me. Fluorescent lights were flickering and he was telling me what I remembered. I could see it like a memory, like it happened to me.” Will says confused and slightly ‘scared’. 

“A memory of injection while you were being injected.”

“Yes.”

“I've treated patients whose situations were not dissimilar to yours. People who discover that some part of their memory, as they know it, is based on a falsehood.” Hannibal expresses his concern.

“Why is he doing this to me?” Will acts with faked tears in his eyes, he could make it big in Hollywood if he really wanted too. Hannibal falls for it. He looks around and leans forward: “He trying to Alienate us, Because you don't know what you can trust to be true. You only know what you wish to be true. That can be taken advantage of, Will. We both know it is a painstaking process to reconstruct a coherent personal history, piece by piece, when so many pieces are missing. Does Y/N Know about this?”

“No Y/N doesnt Know. Even so the pieces I remember don't correspond to fact anymore.”

“Certainty will be found with those who care about you, not those who condemned you as a psychopath.” Hannibal says gently, 

“You've never condemned me. Y/N never did either. You've always been my friend.” Will Admits as Hannibal allows a small smile to bloom on his face...

OBSERVATORY - DAY-

Jack Crawford and Dr. Y/N L/N, followed by an armada of FBI SEDANS and POLICE SQUAD CARS, emerges from a car. They march grimly for the entrance. To one side, two UNIFORMED OFFICERS are with Freddie Lounds. She sees Jack and breaks away. Comes toward Jack and I. She's the last thing he needs. Jack goes to brush past her, but Freddie gets in the way. Genuine. Horror still on her face.

“Send someone else in there, Jack.” He looks at her, sees genuine concern. But he can't follow her advice. Goes to brush past. Freddie stops him. “You should prepare yourself. She's one of yours.” My heart drops….Please don't let it be her….Freddie steps back. Jack and I enter the observatory.

OBSERVATORY - CONTINUOUS- 

I lead the way through the observatory. I stop. I stare at the sight in front of me and Jack. In shock. BEVERLY KATZ Stands in PROFILE to Jack and I, fully clothed, backlit by the light coming from the open TELESCOPE DOORS. For a second she looks alive, frozen in a moment.

Me and Jack move closer and I see that Beverly has been sliced vertically down the middle. Her near third is encased tightly in between VERTICAL GLASS SHEETS. The rest of her body as been CUT INTO THIN VERTICAL STRIPS.

Each encased in glass. These displays are aligned across the floor of the observatory like a shocking set of museum cases housing priceless antiquities. In PROFILE, these displays show a bloody, visceral cross section of Beverly's innards. Tears fall from my eyes as I slump to my knees in front of the sliced body of my friend. One of the only people who really asked if I was okay. And here she was Sliced like Deli Meat. 

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

The corridor revealing JIMMY PRICE and BRIAN ZELLER sitting opposite Jack Crawford at his desk. Both men's faces have fallen with grief and shock. No one speaks.

“At approximately 9 a.m., I received a call from Freddie Lounds... Following an anonymous tip, she discovered a female body and immediately alerted my office…”

BAU - MORGUE - DAY-

The cold steel table. Light glints off stainless steel fittings and neatly-arranged autopsy tools. “I and Dr. L/N were among the first on the scene. The victim was our colleague, Special Agent Beverly Katz.”

BAU - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

Across the static-free room where Beverly worked. The fiber-collection brush rests unused on a countertop. “She was killed in the line of duty. Result of direct adversarial force.”

BAU - WAR ROOM - DAY-

The heads of gathered AGENTS sitting in rows, all the BAU team is congregated with other agents, all looking at Jack Crawford at the front of the room. “She will be memorialized at FBI Headquarters and field offices so that her ultimate sacrifice will always be remembered.” Dr. L/N, Brian Zeller, and Jimmy Price sit in the front row, still numb. Other agents take in the terrible news. The room is stunned.

Y/N’S HOUSE- LIVING ROOM- NIGHT- I'm sitting on my couch scrolling through my photo album on my phone. My face is hot and my cheeks are stained with mascara trails. My mind races with the intrusive thoughts i've had to live with forever. Ones that my mind conjures in the darkest parts of my soul. They tell me ways to hurt others or hurt myself. I never act on them. But sometimes i wish i did. I wish I told her not to investigate Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I wish she told me her plan. I wish I went with her. But that's all they are, Wishes. You can't Wish someone back to life. No matter how hard you try you cant do anything about death. Except get justice for those who were wrongfully killed. 

Winston Jumps onto the couch and lays his head on my lap as a way of maybe trying to comfort me. Hes like the Little piece of Will that I have. And in this moment i am grateful for it. BSHCI - PRIVACY ROOM - DAY-

He sits at the table, Y/N by his side. Faces somber. Their lips moving, but the words are MOS, in SLO-MO, their faces slide IN AND OUT OF FOCUS. BEVERLY KATZ Stands in the doorway behind the glass. Will Graham averts his eyes, numb with shock.

Jack Crawford and Y/N sit opposite him, their mouths moving, but Will doesn't hear the words. The AMBIENT HUM slides away and Will's voice comes up --“I want to see her.”

BSHCI - WILL GRAHAM'S CELL - DAY-

Quick shots, impressionistic: WILL IS YANKED INTO A STRAITJACKET by MATTHEW BROWN (late 20s, white) and another MALE NURSE. FETTERS (LEGCUFFS) ARE ATTACHED TO WILL'S ANKLES. DOUBLE-LEVER-LOCK HANDCUFFS ARE PLACED ON WILL'S WRISTS. WILL IS LED BACKWARD INTO AN UPRIGHT WHEELCHAIR. SHACKLED TO ITS FRAME. behind the chair as Matthew approaches with a BITE-GUARD MASK.

as the mask is raised toward his face. It comes closer and closer. ANGLE from behind the chair on Matthew and a male nurse as they buckle the mask to Will's head --

OBSERVATORY - DAY-

With a BSHCI logo van unloading Will from the back of it. The SHUTTER clicks repeatedly. Freddie Lounds as she uses a LONG LENS to capture him in the mask and restraints. 

Y/N'S REFLECTION Oblique, seen within the glass side of one of the SLICES of Beverly. Her image imprinted on Beverly’s viscera. 

OBSERVATORY - DAY-

behind the slices, moving across them, Jack and Y/N in and then out of sight. Behind them, OUT OF FOCUS, a figure is moving closer. l it is Will Graham being pushed in his restraints by Matthew and the male nurse. Will's EYES as he sees what Beverly has become. Horror. I could see the horror of the tableau reflected in his eye...

“Leave us alone.” Jack says. Jack comes to Will and looks him in the eye, and then moves

round behind him to unstrap the mask. It falls away from Will's face, his eyes never leaving Beverly. Y/N leans in close and begins to UNSHACKLE Will. so close together. Y/N pulls STRAPS and BUCKLES, releasing Will. does a full circuit, we now see that Will is free.

Jack stares at Will. A nod, then exits. Leaving Will and Y/N alone.

Will stares at the glass enclosures of Beverly's body. The echoing, dull PLIP-PLOP of dripping WATER and BLOOD as she defrosts in her glass containment. He can't do this. Sits down and puts his head in his hands. Breathing RAGGED. I sit next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. Two minds becoming one. Two souls shared between the two. 

BEVERLY KATZ Now stands over Them. She regards her dead self. “You said you just interpret the evidence. So interpret the evidence.” And just like that, Will is alone with Y/N again.

WILL STANDS UP. He stares at WATER and BLOOD DRIPPING between the glass partitions, from Beverly's thawing body. Clear puddles slowly CLOUDING WITH RED. Will forces himself to take in the tableau itself. I watch with soft and sad eyes. 

The AMBIENT HUM of his CIRCULATORY SYSTEM sounds in his ears. He closes his eyes.

A PENDULUM Swings inside Will's mind. FWUM. His eyes OPEN. Now the PENDULUM swings outside his mind, across the scene before him. FWUM. The sheets of glass SLIDE TOGETHER, the slices of her separated by inches instead of feet. FWUM, the sheets of glass SLIDE UPWARD, out of sight, leaving a whole Beverly standing, staring. There is bruising on Beverly's neck, indicating strangulation. FWUM. The PENDULUM swings and the bruising disappears. Will stands facing Beverly. FWUM. The PENDULUM swings once more, and the observatory DARKENS around Will. Will raises his hand to Beverly's throat as she stares inscrutably, but can't bring himself to actually touch her.

“I strangle Beverly Katz, looking in her eyes. She knows me. I know her. I expertly squeeze the life from her, rendering her unconscious.” She lies FROZEN, Will standing over her.

“I freeze her body, preserving shape and form so I can cleanly dismantle her. She cuts like stone.” The BLADE OF A BANDSAW moves down the length of her body.

Will stands opposite Beverly Katz's inscrutable body. “I pull her apart, layer by layer, like she would a crime scene.” SUDDENLY, the glass sheets drop from above and separate Beverly. They accordion outward to their original positions. Will is staring at the full tableau once more.

“This is my design.” He stares at Beverly Katz sliced into pieces.

“I will leave no usable evidence. But she found something. She found me. What she found is already gone.” behind the glass sheets, we see the WENDIGO MAN STAG moving opposite Will, as if stalking him. The Wendigo slides behind the terrible images. “But what did I take from her?” A TEAR spills from his eye. It leaves his cheek and drops.  Cloudy with blood where the teardrop joins it.

WILL TURNS To see Jack Crawford standing behind him. Y/N still sitting on the floor staring ahead at the body feeling utterly Hopeless, Like she could’ve done something. But she couldn't. She wouldn't have been able to. And if she went with Beverly. She could've ended up like Beverly did. Dead. And without a clue to who Her killer is. With people wondering what they could've done to prevent her Death. 

“It's the Chesapeake Ripper.” Jack says. “The Ripper and the Copycat. One killer. Two masks. Same monster beneath. Beverly helped me see it.” Will says as he crouches beside Y/N and softly rubs her back as a way to comfort her. “Help me see it.” Will stifles his initial response, knows Jack can't hear it. “She was looking for a connection between the Copycat and the Ripper.”

“And you think she found it.”

“She found something. Where were you last night?”

“I was at the hospital with my wife.” Will considers that, then: “I told Beverly to go to you, tell you everything she knew. Instead, she went looking for evidence. She met the Ripper last night, Jack. She'll be missing organs. He had to take his trophies.”

“Who is he, Will?”

“Beverly made her connection to the Ripper. You have to make your own, Jack. I can't make it for you.”

“Then what did I bring you here for?”

Will glances over his shoulder at dead Beverly Katz. And stands himself and Y/N up. “To say good-bye.” He says with one look glazing across Will Graham's face. grief...

Y/N’S CAR - DAY- I get into the driver seat of my car, tears about to spill over. “Why?!?! Fucking Why?!?!” I scream as i repeatedly hit the steering wheel of my car. Why did me and Will push her! This is My fault…. I slowly calm from my distressed rage and My breathing is shallow and quick. I feel as though i cant breathe… i gasp for air as i place a hand on my sternum. I choke up a sob, once the first tear falls the rest follow. My friend is dead…. My boyfriend/partner is  incarcerated at the Baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane…. And My new partner who used to be not only my former teacher but also my psychiatrist made both things occur….. I feel alone……utterly and completely alone…….What am i supposed to do? Move on? No… i could never….. Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham have Twisted themselves into my soul….My heart….My mind. For who shall i tell and theyd actually believe what i say….. Noone. Maybe that was their goal….. Get me so shut off from everyone else to the point that i would have noone else to run to but them. For How does one wash the blood off their hands if they're constantly knees deep in it. 

BSHCI - THERAPY HALL - DAY-

DR. CHILTON stands opposite Will Graham perched in his cage. “Would you like to talk about what happened at the observatory?” Chilton Asks. Will stares into middle distance, unresponsive, then: “You discussed my therapy with Hannibal Lecter, Frederick. Counter to our agreement.”

“I gave him a peek before I snatched down the shades. Then you whispered I was planting false memories with hypnotic benzodiazepines.” Chilton says annoyed with the curly haired man. “I have appearances to maintain.”

“Is that quid pro quo?”

“Tit for tat.”

“Beverly Katz paid you a visit before she was murdered. What did the two of you talk about?” Will rolls his eyes. “You mean, you weren't listening?”

“You met her in the privacy room, it's the only room in the facility I'm not legally allowed to monitor.” Will stifles a scoff, but allows: “And you let that stop you? We talked about the Chesapeake Ripper and then she went and found him.”

“Psychopaths can be indifferent to those sorts of setbacks. I consulted with the FBI on the Chesapeake Ripper murders years ago. The first time he killed one of Jack Crawford's people. It's becoming very personal for Jack.”

“I'm taking it personally.” Will says Numbly.

“I know something about the monster you're dealing with. He's a well-educated man. A socially-competent man. He has surgical experience or, at the very least, know-how.” Chilton says as he circles the man. “You thought Abel Gideon was the Chesapeake Ripper.” Will tilts his head. “Evidently, I was wrong about that.”

“Gideon knows who the Ripper is.”

“And I suppose you do, too.”

“Wouldn't it be interesting if we both said it was the same man?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Shame we can't talk to Abel Gideon about the Chesapeake Ripper. Just think, Frederick, you could be the one who catches him after all.” Will says as CHILTON takes that in...

BAU - MORGUE - NIGHT-

Beverly Katz lies on a morgue drawer, two thirds of her body sliced vertically in narrow slabs. Jack Crawford stands over her, quietly pushing the drawer back into its steal casing and closing the door with a sad sense of finality. He remains there a moment, by the closed morgue drawer. Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller nearby, watching. “Beverly isn't your responsibility. You should be allowed to grieve the loss, not wade through it.” Jack says Grimly “What about you, Jack?” Jimmy asks sadly, “I can't afford the luxury of grief.”

“No luxury in feeling this way.” Zeller says with a bitter tone on his tongue. “If I grieve Beverly, I'm not catching the Ripper.” Jack says cooly, He cant Have emotion. Hes not allowed. Emotions leave room for error. And in this case we Cannot have errors.  “We're not running away from what happened, Jack. Beverly wouldn't.” Jimmy says as he tries to comfort his boss.

“I've already double-checked the autopsy. What you found at the observatory wasn't all Beverly.” Zeller says grimmly.  KIDNEYS They are mid-dissection on an evidence tray. “These kidneys were placed into her body after she was killed. They're not hers. I typed them against DNA samples. They belong to the Mural Killer. James Gray.”

“Whoever killed James Gray and sewed him into his mural also murdered Beverly. Swapped out their kidneys.” Jack says as he starts to pace. “The Ripper harvests organs. Now he's swapping them out?” Jimmy says confused about this killer. He’s untraceable. “Used to think he killed in sounders of three or four victims, then nothing for months, even years. He wants us to know he never stops. He just kills as different killers.” Jack says as he stops pacing and leans on another autopsy table.

“Beverly. James Gray. What about the bailiff and judge at Will's trial?” Zeller asks also confused. “Will was convinced whoever killed the bailiff was not the Ripper.” Jack says. “Still leaves the judge. There was no physical evidence that linked his murder with the bailiff's.” Jimmy states.

“Beverly was looking for connections between the Ripper and the Copycat. I want to know every move she made. Trace her cell phone, her GPS. We have to find what she found.”

“Right now, all we have to go on is, find her kidneys, find her killer.”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT-

Hannibal observes the kidney a moment, turns it just so, a flash in his eye. He pats the kidney dry, then – In a series of QUICK CUTS: He deftly trims the membrane from the kidney-proper.

He then pushes the kidney through a hand-cranked grinder. Thick coils of minced kidney extrude from the other side. A HEAVY, CAST-IRON SKILLET. The minced kidney is laid into sizzling clarified butter. Hannibal hits it with a splash of cognac. A FLAME curls high from the skillet.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

Hannibal takes a forkful of kidney and a sip of red wine.

BSHCI - CELL BLOCK - DAY-

The security gate BUZZES. Matthew and another nurse and accompanying SECURITY GUARDS lead a shackled Abel Gideon through the gate and down the hall, using PRODS attached to a belt around his JUMPSUIT. Dr. Gideon takes in his surroundings, unfazed by his fetters.

One of the guards OPENS the cell and Gideon is shuffle-walked inside and unshackled. He glances out into the corridor to see Dr. Chilton leaning on his cane, watching the proceedings. “Frederick. Turns out, all the king's horses and all the king's men could, in fact, put Humpty back together again. Is everything where I found it?” Gideon says amused.

“With one or two exceptions. I know people consider me autocratic, not the most loved of administrators. But that nurse you murdered. She was well-liked. So were the attendants you killed.” Chilton says coldly. Matthew and the other nurse EXIT down the corridor, leaving Chilton with the two security guards still inside the cell.

“There's nothing like grief and trauma to pull people together. Welcome back, Dr. Gideon.”

BSHCI - THERAPY HALL - DAY-

SHACKLES unlocked. The inmate sits in the cage. The door mechanism locks shut. Reveal this is Will Graham. Matthew and the nurse have just secured him in his cage. Dr. Gideon watches with interest, wincing and grabbing his ribs as he turns. Matthew and the nurse move away.

“Mr. Graham. You always did look like the boy next door. Is it true that you ate that poor Hobbs girl?”

“You can call me Will now that we're of equal social standing.”

“Is this Frederick's idea of punishment? Group therapy with the man who tried to kill me.”

“I'd like to talk to you about the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Thought I was the Ripper.”

“You're the pretender to the throne.”

“Are you my new therapist? Somewhat radical approach. Then, Frederick always did like that sort of thing. What did you offer him to bring me back? I'm the last person he wants to see. I give him a visceral chill in his guts. What's left of them.” Gideon says with a sadistic smile. “You know who the Chesapeake Ripper is. You've met him.”

“So Frederick gets to catch the Ripper after all. What do you get?”

“I want to stop the man who murdered my friend.” Will says calmly. “The Ripper's playing out a mannerly dance, getting close, but not too close, offering tokens of goodwill, but not giving away too much.”

“He gave you away. I remember the night in Dr. Lecter's house. The night I took you there.” Will says through the bars of his cage. “The night you tried to kill me.”

“How do you think I found you? He sent me to kill you, Abel.” Will says with a smile. Will has changed. Morphed into a darker version of himself. The old righteous version of Will shattered under the will of Hannibal Lecter. “Am I your evidence? Oh, you're in trouble, Mr. Graham.”

“Why would you protect him?”

“He's done nothing to me. You were happy enough to try and kill me yourself. You have it "in you," as they say. I'm intrigued to see what you try when I say no. He's the Devil, Mr. Graham. He's smoke. You'll never "catch" the Ripper. He won't be caught. If you want him, you'll have to kill him.” Gideon says nonchalantly with a smile.  “Fair enough."

BSHCI - THERAPY HALL - DAY-

Abel Gideon smiling to himself in his cage. “You don't have to stand way over there. I'm a cutter, not a pisser.” Hannibal walks toward him. Stops outside the line on the floor. “Hello, Dr. Gideon.”

“Our brains devote more space to reading the details of faces than to any other object. Dare I say, I've never seen yours before.” Gideon lies with a smile on his face. “I'm Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I was Will Graham's psychiatrist.”

“He's not a great advertisement for your abilities, Dr. Lecter.”  “That remains to be seen.:” Gideon grins at Hannibal. “I bet you're a devil at the bridge table. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure's mine.”

“Course, now that I know your name, I'm aware of you by reputation. Esteem in psychiatric circles still eludes him, even as it clings to you. He very much wants to be you.” Gideon says with a snicker. “He should be more careful what he wishes for.”

“You should have been more careful with Will Graham. That young man has got a bone to pick.”

“With me?” “Who's to say.”

“As a therapist, I'm concerned with finding ways to overcome resistance, not build it up.”

“You built up something, Dr. Lecter.” Gideon says as he looks at Hannibal taking that in...

BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE - DAY-

Hannibal is exiting the asylum as Freddie Lounds is coming the opposite way with her bag slung over one shoulder. She pops the cap off her camera and snaps a shot of Hannibal. “Rude of you, Miss Lounds.” 

“Did you think I was above that sort of thing? You seem disappointed.” Freddie says as she replaces the cap. “We evolved the ability to communicate disappointment to teach those around us good manners.”

“Unfortunately, I didn't evolve the ability to feel shame.”

“You should explore that in therapy.”

“The one time I saw a psychiatrist, it was under false pretenses.” Freddie smirks, “Happy to entertain you for a more- genuine conversation. So what brings you to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane?” Hannibal asks Respectfully. “I'm interviewing Will Graham. At his request. Imagine that.” Hannibal is surprised. “I'm trying.”

“Lot of effort to get me through the door. Will must have the chief of staff wrapped around his finger.” She carries on up the steps. “I may take you up on that genuine conversation, Dr. Lecter.” Hannibal watches her go. “Please do.”

BSHCI - THERAPY HALL - DAY-

Matthew leads Freddie Lounds toward the privacy room. “Do not pass him anything but soft paper. No pens, no pencils. Do not accept anything he offers you. Do not let him touch you. Do not touch him. I will be right outside.” 

“I know the drill. If you ever want to make a buck by dropping a dime, give me a call.” She hands him her business card. They have reached the privacy room. Will sits inside, shackled to the table. Matthew opens the door. Freddie and Will regard each other. The door closes behind Freddie. She doesn't sit. Stands and appraises Will. “It's good to see you again, Will. Let me rephrase that. It's good to see you in here. Where you belong.”

“Thank you for coming.” Freddie places a recorder on the table in front of Will. “Beverly Katz. She was murdered by the Chesapeake Ripper, wasn't she?”

“I don't want to talk about that.” Will shakes his head.  “You don't want to talk about your friend that was killed. Maybe you want to talk about mine. You ever think about Abigail Hobbs?” Will scoffs. “Think about her. I grieve her.”

“You murdered her. Why am I here?”

“You have a wide readership.”

“We know the Chesapeake Ripper is a fan. Enough for me to be his first call regarding Beverly Katz.” Freddie says as she sits in front of Will. “I have an admirer. And he seems to fit your demographic, too.” Will says with a gesture.  “My demographic is murderers and people obsessed with murderers.”

“Talking about the man who killed the bailiff and judge at my trial.” Will says bluntly. “And you think he's your admirer?” She looks at him confused. “He killed the bailiff to give me an alibi, and he killed the judge because he threw that alibi out.” Will explains his thinking. “So is your admirer crazy?”

“I don't think anybody who is as careful as he is could be crazy. I think he's different. A lot of people may believe he's crazy, and reason for that is, he hasn't let people understand much about him.” Will says calmly.  “But you understand him. Are you trying to catch him or contact him?”

“I would like to establish a line of communication. Your website seems like a good place to do that.” Will with hesitation. Y/N is going to freak the fuck out when the article drops thats for sure. “I could open it up for you. Ads, editorial, chat rooms, monitoring incoming mail. I could be discreet.”

“In exchange for?”

“Exclusive rights to your story.” Will stares at her a moment, considers, then: “It's all yours, Freddie.” Will says as She smiles, studying Will, then: “You want to talk to your admirer, we'll have to send an invitation.”

A WEB PAGE -- THE TATTLECRIME.COM BANNER Beneath it, an iconic full-screen image of Will Graham in the BITE-GUARD MASK stares from a screen. Under it, a headline: "Exclusive: Will Graham First Interview. The Mind of a Killer."

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

The website is on an iPad on the desk.  Part of the article reads ‘....I believe this man wanted to help me, even though his motives for that are unclear. He killed people in my name. I'd like to ask him why…’ Hannibal reads the screen, his emotions unreadable.

BSHCI - THERAPY HALL - NIGHT-

Will Graham sits in his cage.  Matthew standing nearby, watching Will. He studies Will a long moment as Will simply stares into middle distance. “Would you like a book, Mr. Graham?”

“I have my imagination.”

“We have the most sophisticated virtual reality system known to man right between our ears.”

“How much longer are they going to be inspecting my cell?”

“It's a routine inspection. Shouldn't be much longer.” Will drifts back to his imagination. A moment, then: “I read your TattleCrime interview. You're a very articulate man. I agreed with a lot of what you said. You're right. People don't understand much about me. Or you. At least we understand each other.”  WILL as he absorbs this. Matthew comes closer, quieter, leaning on the bars of the cage as he speaks:

“There's something we don't have. Or maybe we just evolved not to need. Like losing the vestigial tail or being born without an appendix. You were hiding inside the FBI. That's talent. If you hadn't gotten sick, they would've never found you.”

“You chose a great place to hide.”

“If you spend time in a mental hospital, you pick up the drill. You could pass as an orderly, get a job doing it when you get out. They may never suspect you were ever in.”

“You realize Chilton records everything said in this room.” Will says confused about the man. “Who do you think wired the mic? Or unwired the mic, as it is right now.”

“You killed the bailiff during my trial.”

“Thought it might exonerate you. I read your file often enough. Easy to recreate your work. It was so specific. Though the bailiff was a bitch to get on that stag's head.”

“And the judge?”

“I shot the bailiff, but I did not kill the judge. That was somebody else.” As Will takes that in, a BUZZER SOUNDS. Matthew and Will turn to see TWO GUARDS ENTER from the far end of the hall. “We're all done.”

“They're all done.” Will appraises Matthew, cool and controlled. Matthew opens the cage and unshackles Will as the guards approach. “Why were you trying to help me?”

“You ever see the way smaller birds will mob a hawk on a wire? You and me, we're the hawks, Mr. Graham.”

“Hawks are solitary.”

“That's their weakness. Enough of those little birds get together and they chase hawks away. Imagine if the hawks started working together.” They walk toward the waiting security guards who escort them through the large glass doors at the far end of the hall.

BSHCI - STAIRWELL/CELL BLOCK - NIGHT-

Matthew guides Will down the stairs, toward the cell block, flanked by the two security guards. He waves at a NURSE in the station and the block doors OPEN. The two security guards wait outside the block as Matthew leads Will down the hall. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

“I need a favor.”

“I'm always happy to do a favor for a friend. Just say the words.” They stop outside Will's cell. The bars slide open and Matthew leads him in. Unshackles Will. Now Will is free. The two men regard each other. Matthew smiles. WILL looking at the deadly Matthew. A choice to be made.

“I want you to kill Hannibal Lecter.” Matthew smiles and steps out, and the bars slide back across Will Graham. Matthew turns and walks back down the corridor. Matthew wont just Kill Hannibal Lecter, He will remove Y/N L/N from the equation as well. Just as what he thinks is a courtesy. 

Gideon watches Matthew walk past, then grins in the shadows.

BSHCI - WILL GRAHAM'S CELL - NIGHT -

Will Graham sits on his bunk, head down, contemplating Hannibal's murder. He jerks his head, attempting to crack his neck. He rubs his shoulder and his fingers move over a bump. Will runs his hand over his back and finds another bump. He takes off his shirt, glancing over his shoulder. Small SPIKES are protruding through the flesh of his back, pushing out as they grow into a RACK OF ANTLERS. He doubles over in pain. the ANTLERS as they grow to reveal the rack is attached to Will Graham's skull.

The ANTLERS RISE INTO THE LIGHT revealing Will has become a horrible figure, HIS PERSONAL VERSION OF THE WENDIGO.

“Will?” The haunting horrible figure that Will now strikes turns. She stands on the other side of the bars. WILL Perfectly normal, stares at Y/N. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I smile sweetly and in relief. “Sorry to drop in unannounced. I just- Felt like I needed to see you.” They smile at each other, connection always strong. “What's on your mind Honey?” Will asks and I sigh softly.

“You. You gave an interview to Freddie Lounds. You despise Freddie Lounds, Will. Almost as much as I hate the Bitch. It just seemed…”

“Suspicious?”

“"Uncharacteristic" is the word I'd choose. And slightly worrying.”

“Don't have to worry about me.” “I’m always Worried about you….” I love you….. I would say it but I can't. I look at him. I Want to hold him. “We've gone through so much, Will. I don't want to lose sight of who We are.”

“I haven't lost sight of who I am. If anything, I'm coming into focus.”

“I know you feel Angry about what happened to Beverly and you want to do something about it. Hell, even I want to” I say as I remember the feelings my friend felt in her last moments. “Would that be so bad?” Y/N looks interested by that. “Depends what you're thinking about doing. There is no solution to our grief, Will. It just is. No matter what we do about it.” i say as my chin trembles

“Beverly died because of me. Because she listened to me.” Will says and i shake my head, a single tear falls. “No. I- I pushed her too. Its my fault too.” I cry and Will looks helpless by my tears. “I won't let it happen again.” Will looks at Y/N. Wants to tell her.

“Will? What have you done?” I sniffle, Whatever he did…. Scares me- no. excites me. “What I had to.” He turns from the bars and walks back to his bunk. Y/N watches him for a beat, but he doesn't look up.

BSHCI - STAIRWELL - NIGHT-

Y/N waits briefly at the gate. Finally, it BUZZES and OPENS. She walks through to find Dr. Chilton on the stairs. “What is it about you, Dr. L/N? The most sinister neurochemistry in the field can't help percolating in your presence. The interesting ones just fall at your feet. Will Graham, Abel Gideon, they're chatty as can be. You're like catnip for killers.”

“Hello, Frederick. I understand Abel Gideon has returned to the roost.” I say politely, “I believe you, Dr. Bloom and I are his only surviving psychiatrists. Pulled the tongues out of all the rest.” Chilton says with a smirk.

“Pulled more than that out of you. Have you noticed anything different about Will since Gideon arrived?” I ask Chilton with a polite smile. “That's certainly the point. Gideon's part of Will's therapy, helping him reclaim his past.”

BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE - NIGHT

Adrenaline racing, Y/N Moves quickly down the steps. Hands trembling, she pulls her cell phone from her purse. Scrolls through her contacts urgently. Finds Hannibal Lecter's name.

And hits "CALL."..... She starts walking quickly to her car. Footsteps trail behind her as she gets to her Car. she goes to unlock her car when a she feels someone behind her. She places a hand on her holster but before she can turn around and fire. A NEEDLE pierces her neck and injects her with a anesthetic. OFF Y/N Drops to the floor, Cracking her head open–

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Empty. A telephone ringing off camera. CAMERA pushes into --

THE KITCHEN

It's empty, too.

AN OLYMPIC-SIZED SWIMMING POOL SHOT FROM ABOVE, the water FILLS FRAME. Smooth, like a sheet of glass. A blue, chlorinated piece of modern art. And then a slight ripple signals the coming of – A FIGURE As he bursts THROUGH FRAME, swimming a powerful freestyle stroke. The only sound, the minimal splash of the swimmer's powerful arms as he cuts the water.

PRIVATE CLUB - SWIMMING POOL - NIGHT-

An otherwise-unoccupied private pool in a high-ceiling, ornate space. The tiled walls flicker with reflections and shadows.  Soaring across the surface of the pool, keeping time with the lone swimmer who does a perfect flip turn and glides back toward the other end. It is – HANNIBAL Glistening. Moving gracefully through the water.

UNDERWATER We watch him come down the pool toward us, his breathing regular, stroke powerful. Totally engrossed. As he clears THE LIGHT, we catch a rippling glimpse of a FIGURE standing at the edge of the water. But before we can even hope to ascertain who it is, we are back with --HANNIBAL Closing in on the end of the pool, he executes another flip turn. The figure steps into THE LIGHT. Swim cap. Tinted, reflective goggles -- it's Matthew. IN THE POOL

Hannibal's swimming hard, unaware that he's no longer alone. With a powerful kick, Matthew is suddenly swimming next to him. Keeping pace. Even crowding him. Hannibal kicks it into another gear. Pulls away. Hannibal, leaving Matthew behind. AT THE EDGE OF THE POOL Hannibal stops. Wiping the water from his eyes, he turns back to size up his overly-competitive pool partner.

He turns to find Matthew standing over him, partially silhouetted against the overhead lights. Matthew raises his hand to reveal he's holding a TRANQUILIZER GUN. He FIRES a dart into Hannibal's chest. Hannibal jerks at the sting. Pulls the dart free, its cargo already having an effect. Hannibal reaches for the side of the pool, but his hand misses. His eyes roll, he goes under, Matthew becoming a dark, blurred phantom.

Rays of reflected light strike the water as Hannibal's body, unconscious, balletic, artful -- sinks beneath the surface...

PRIVATE CLUB - STEAM ROOM - NIGHT-

The white-tiled space of a large steam room. Long, with a raised set of steps at one end. Grand and ornate. Heavy steam hangs in the air, softening and dilating everything. An indistinct figure moves at the far end...

A RIVULET OF BLOOD Runs down a central drain in the floor. we follow it through the steam to where the BLOOD drips off the bottom step. MOVE UPWARD to find – HANNIBAL LECTER The blood comes from DEEP CUTS in his wrists, which are bound to a broken mop handle running across his back, arms outstretched. CHRISTLIKE. He is standing on a BUCKET, a NOOSE around his neck, the taut rope disappearing upward. His feet shuffle precariously on the bucket.

Dr. Y/N L/N had been disgarded to the floor, her Head and Wrists bleeding. Shes unconsious. She had been changed to a white flowy dress that is currently being stained red with not only her blood but Hannibals as well. Like a bloody angel. 

“Judas had the decency to hang himself in shame at his betrayals.” Matthew steps INTO THE LIGHT. Now clothed, the DART GUN in his waistband. “But I thought you'd need help.”

BSHCI - WILL GRAHAM'S CELL - NIGHT-

Will Graham sits on his bunk. Nothing more he can do now. The pieces are in play. the sink and The steady drips hit the basin. PLOP. PLOP. PLOP. Water continues to drip in a steady succession. DRIP. DRIP. DRIP. And then the water becomes BLOOD. DRIP. DRIP. DRIP. The BLOOD-DROPS marble the water collected in the basin.

PRIVATE CLUB - STEAM ROOM - NIGHT-

DRIP. DRIP. DRIP. Blood spatters on the marble. Hannibal losing the fight to stay conscious. He wobbles, but regains his balance. He gazes at Y/Ns body, he could tell she’s Alive. But for how long depends on if the FBI finds them or if he gets out of his restraints.

“Did you know that the phrase "to kick the bucket" came from exactly this situation? You could kick it away now yourself and it'd all be over. Quicker than bleeding out. It's a choice. Life is about choices. Good choices. Bad choices.” Matthew says as he Crouches beside Y/N, he gently brushes hair out of her face with a sadistic smirk on his face.

“Hobson's choice. Another old phrase. You're a nurse at the hospital. You're setting a standard of care. Are you Will Graham's admirer?”

“We have a mutual respect.”

“Will's not what you think he is. He's not a murderer.”

“He is now. At least by proxy.”

“He asked you to do this?”

“What are friends for?” Hannibal considers that, impressed by Will's moxie. And the fact that Will would order Y/N to be Hurt. Hannibal looks at Y/N sadly. “Oh Her…. She wasn't his order, She was a courtesy. Now I'm going to ask you a few yes-or-no questions while you still have enough blood coursing through your brain to answer them. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Did you kill that judge?” Hannibal stares, but it's enough for Matthew to hear "yes."

“I can ask you yes-or-no questions, you don't have to say a word and I'll know what the answer is. The pupil dilates with specific mental efforts. You dilate, that's a "yes." No dilation equals "no." Are you the Chesapeake Ripper?” Hannibal smiles and his head lolls forward and his feet slip. He recovers and looks down at the grinning Matthew.

“How many times have you seen someone cling on to a life not really worth living? Eking out a last few seconds. Wondering why they bother.” Matthew says from down beside Y/N and takes his Knife and drags it along her Thighs. 

“I know why. Life is precious.” Hannibal says as he strains to look at Y/N. Matthew stands up and looks at Hannibal, incredulous, then starts to laugh.

PRIVATE CLUB - SWIMMING POOL - NIGHT -

Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom come into the pool area. Jack is disappointed to see the pool empty. Motions to a door at the far end. They look at each other. Jack draws his gun.

PRIVATE CLUB - STEAM ROOM - NIGHT-

Matthew kicks Y/N to the side and stands in front of Hannibal as he DRIFTS and then

STARTS, regains his balance. Steam wreathing them. “Look at you. The Chesapeake Ripper. Wonder what they'll call me. The Iroquois used to eat their enemies to take their strength. Maybe your murders become my murders. I'll be the Chesapeake Ripper now.”

“Only if you eat me.” Hannibal's eyes flutter open and closed as he takes his last look at Y/N. Past Matthew. JACK CRAWFORD Coming through the steam at the far end. Hannibal looks down at Matthew. The dart gun in his waistband.

“Hands where I can see them.” Matthew looks frozen. Looks at Hannibal who smiles. Matthew shrugs. Not about to die. He starts to raise his hands.

“He's got a gun, Jack!” Matthew stares at Hannibal, face falling. BAM! A high-caliber bullet crashes into his chest and sends him spinning. Y/N, smoking gun outstretched. After she goes plummeting to the ground due to blood loss. 

Matthew coughs up blood. Looks to Hannibal. And KICKS THE BUCKET BENEATH HIS FEET. HANNIBAL HANGS. JACK, horrified, running toward Hannibal. He slips in the WATER and BLOOD.FALLS TO THE TILES And what seems like an eternity away, Hannibal Lecter struggles at the end of a rope. 

Kicking as his throat is crushed under his own weight. Things dim. The world is fading. Jack scrambles to his feet. And then Jack is there. He lifts Hannibal up. Holding him around his thighs, his clothes becoming SLICK with Hannibal's blood. Jack pushes him higher to create slack. Hannibal's eyes meet Jack's. As Jack holds on --

ALANA BLOOM Stands in the steam room. Jack holding up Hannibal. Her face falls in horror. And Rushes to Y/N. Alana grasps both of Y/N’s Wrists, desperate to try and stop the bleeding As Y/N is gasping for air.

“Call an ambulance!” SHOUTS JACK CRAWFORD as he holds the weight of his friend, blood dripping onto his face. Soaked and desperate.

[simplyafountainpen]

An Epicurean Feast

Oho? What’s this? It’s seems as though your head Butler is preparing a large feast! Now the only question is…

…Who Will You Invite?~

Hello, and welcome to my first milestone event; One held in the honor of my 100 followers.

This event will be limited to a total of nine slots, so that I won’t over work myself. So please, do not hesitate to send in a request. I assure I will be more than happy to oblige.

Here is our Menu for this Fine Evening

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{𝓓𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓼} ~ {𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹}

♰ White Tiger’s Milk ~ Romantic

❝This is a rich and indulgent cocktail that delivers a creamy flavor profile through a harmonious blend of Applejack, milk, cream and white sugar with a sprinkle of nutmeg to top.❞

♰ English Milk Punch ~ Platonic

❝This creamy and refreshing Milk Punch is a blend of Brandy, pineapple, cinnamon, Green Tea and lemon, mixed with milk and boiled till curdled, strenuously strained and garnished with nutmeg and a lemon rind.❞

♰ Sleeper ~ Familial

❝A stiff and intoxicating mix of Rum, sugar, coriander seeds, and cinnamon, served freshly boiled with a clove buds and a cinnamon stick to garnish.❞

♰ Tip-Top Punch ~ One Sided

❝This light and fruity cocktail is the perfect blend of Champagne, Curaçao, soda water, sliced pineapple and powdered sugar mixed till fully combined and served with a pineapple wedge.❞

♰ Apple Toddy ~ Enemies

❝A warm and aromatic drink made up of Cider Brandy, baked apple and white sugar, mixed with boiled water and topped with powered sugar and a pinch of nutmeg.❞

♰ Earl Grey Cream ~ Friends with Benefits

❝A smooth and rich tea, made by mixing Earl Grey tea leaves with natural bergamot oil and a bit of vanilla.❞

♰ Wild Rosebud Tea ~ Stalker

❝A gentle and floral tea, made simply by steeping dried wild rosebuds of different variety with boiled water with a drizzle of honey.❞

♰ Pearl Tea ~ Yandere

❝A tea of Chinese decent, made by combining Camellia Sinensis Plant with mint tea and boiling it at medium heat, mixed with sugar and a splash of honey.❞

{𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓼} ⛧With Lemon ~ Yandere Reader ⛧With Lime ~ Stalker Reader ⛧With Ice ~ Older Reader ⛧With Sugar ~ Younger Reader ⛧With Cream ~ Polyam/Multiple Characters

{𝓐𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽𝓲𝔃𝓮𝓻𝓼} ~ {𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓓𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}

♰ Mulligatawny Soup ~ M/M

❝Inspired by a curry of Eastern Indian, this is a sweet, spicy and decadent soup, it's made with shredded chicken, onion, carrot, celery, garlic, sweet potato, apple and Indian Spices, all served in a lentil broth.❞

♰ Clear Soup ~ TM/M

❝This dish is made by simmering various vegetables or meats in a broth and removing them later for a flavorful 'clear soup'; ours is made with celery, mushrooms, carrots, beef, cabbage, broccoli and sweet corn, left to simmer over high heat and later served with a dash of salt.❞

♰ Scalloped Brill ~ M/TM

❝Brill is a flat fish that when cooked is sweet in flavor, we pan-sear and baste in a butter sauce with salt, plated with herbs and fresh tomato.❞

♰ Jellied Eels ~ Reader POV

❝Our eels are resourced directly from our river, taken immediately to be chopped into chunks and placed in spiced stock, left to cool for hours, and once jelled we serve them on ice.❞

♰ Fried Soles ~ Character(s) POV

❝Sliced into fillets, we batter with egg and breadcrumbs then fried, parmesan is then shredded over top and garnished with brown sugar, tarragon sauce.❞

♰ Lamb's Sweetbread ~ No One's POV

❝The thymus of a lamb is battered with egg wash, milk and breadcrumbs, fried, dashed with salt and pepper, then served on a bed of fresh lettuce and topped with chives. ❞

{𝓜𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮} ~ {𝓢𝓕𝓦 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮}

♰ Fricandeau of Veal and Spinach ~ Beach Day

❝We take a leg of veal, lard it with fatty bacon and stew with bacon, potatoes, onions, carrots, bay leaves and spices till boiled, baste it with liquor, bake in the oven and glaze, served over a plate of spinach.❞

♰ Croquets of Fowl with Piquant Sauce ~ Reconnection

❝Our fresh Cochins chicken is shredded, mixed with condensed soup, bread crumbs, celery, and seasoning, and breaded again, fried and served with a piping hot piquant sauce made with a fine dark roux, tomato, onions, green bell peppers, seasonings and chicken.❞

♰ Curried Lobster with Rice ~ Character Death

❝We butterfly a lobster tail, cook it till opaque with curry powder and then steam it with rice, onions, butter, tomatoes and annatto oil, plated with parmesan grated on top.❞

♰ Roast Capon ~ Kidnapping

❝These roosters are hand picked from our fine selection, killed and plucked on site then slow roasted with onion, herbs, lemon the salt and pepper, we then take the drippings and combine them with Sherry for glaze, served with roasted potato.❞

♰ Stuffed Saddle of Mutton ~ Shopping Trip

❝A whole saddle of lamb is taken and deboned, stuffed with sautéed salted spinach, finely chopped garlic, shallots, black olives, and lightly fried lamb kidneys, then baked in the over, served with mint jelly.❞

♰ Lancashire Hot Pot ~ Moonlit Picnic

❝We place chopped mutton and onions in a dish to simmer, adding carrots, onions, stir in flower, stock and bay leaves then place potato slices on top and bake for hours to ensure all flavors are melded together, served with a mint sauce.❞

♰ Roast Goose with Apple Stuffing ~ Masquerade Ball

❝First we stuff a goose with specialty made stuffing, consisting of apples, bread, currants, butter and thyme, cover the goose in spices and slow roast with celery, potatoes and garlic, and covered in a homemade gravy.❞

♰ Collar’d Pig stuffed with Forcemeat ~ Memory Loss

❝The meat is butterflied and washed in butter then stuffed with forcemeat, which is a mixture of apples, bread and chicken broth, finally seasoned with cranberries and thyme, and finally slow roasted for tender, easy to pull apart meat.❞

♰ Cottage Pie ~ Idiots in Love

❝We take farm fresh beef and brown it, combining with fresh onions, garlic, peas, carrots and oregano, add Worcestershire sauce and tomato paste then cover in fluffy garlic mashed potatoes and bake till golden at the top.❞

♰ Devonshire Squab Pie ~ Long Distance

❝In a pie crust we mix spiced lamb, apples, onions, prunes, stock and sugar, bake low and slow then wash with egg, served with a helping of clotted cream.❞

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓽} ~ {𝓝𝓢𝓕𝓦 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮}

♰ Meringues ~ Trapped Together

❝A sweet dessert made only with egg whites and sugar that are beaten till stiff peaks are formed, light and airy with a fluffy texture, the perfect way to end any meal.❞

♰ Chocolate Cream ~ One Bed

❝A thick and creamy treat made with whole milk, heavy cream, sugar, egg yolks and chocolate simmered and cooled over a period of time, served with a dollop of whipped cream.❞

♰ Lemon Cream ~ Hole in the Wall

❝Much like our Chocolate Cream, this is a thick and creamy dessert but is instead made by combining water, lemon zest and rind, sugar and egg whites, simmered and cooled and served with raspberries and blackberries.❞

♰ Tipsy Cake ~ Cross Dressing/Cosplaying

❝This is a decadent Savoy cake made with lemon, White Wine and sugar, drenched in an especially sweet Rum and Brandy then glazed with vanilla custard, topped with almonds.❞

♰ Blanc Mange a la Vanille ~ Tied Up

❝This dessert is made by boiling milk, cornstarch and sugar, then adding cinnamon, lemon zest and vanilla, after which it is allowed to cool over an overnight period and served with chocolate shavings on top.❞

♰ Nougat Almond Cake ~ Sadism/Masochism

❝First we caramelize honey, add it to a sugar, water and egg white mixture and allow it to get to a foamy state, add our almonds and vanilla and allow to cool.❞

♰ Trifle ~ Free Use

❝A sponge cake made with custard and vanilla is brushed with Brandy and smothered in jam, layered with fresh picked strawberries, custard, whipped cream and more cake, topped with even more strawberries.❞

♰ Iced Oranges ~ Hateful Intimacy

❝Lemon zest and sugar is heated with water until clear, then oranges are grinded into the mixture, later they are frozen until a sorbet texture is achieved, it's then placed back into an orange peel and decorated with mint leaves.❞

♰ Crystalized Fruits ~ Power Imbalance

❝Fruits of different varieties are drenched in sugar and Liquors of matching flavor and left to set for hours, leaving for a revitalizing and refreshing dessert.❞

♰ Macedoine of Fruits with Jelly ~ Brand New Piercings

❝We take a light, fruit flavored jelly and mold it into marvelous shapes, filling with interior with fruits of every kind.❞

{𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓯'𝓼 𝓘𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽}: ❝It’s customary to have more than one meal at a Feast! You are encouraged to pick up to two meals from every course showed. Don’t bother with drinks however, I wouldn’t want you getting too tipsy, after all.~❞

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❝ Ah! Master. It seems you’ve made selections for this evenings dinner. Might I ask your order? And, of course,

Whom you’d like to invite?~ ❞

In order to have your request received, it would be most natural to relay this order to your most faithful Butler, yes? Here, an example of one such order may look like this:

❝Firstly, I crave a Tip Top Punch - with lemon please, followed by Jellied Eels as my appetizer. For the main course, I desire Roast Capon; and please, send a letter to Sebastian Michaelis? I have a feeling he’d simply adore this feast.~ ❞

I hope you find this meal most satisfactory, Master. Of course, it is this lowly Butlers everything to be able to serve a wonderful person such as you.

𝓑𝓸𝓷 𝓐𝓹𝓹é𝓽𝓲𝓽, 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 ~

{𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮}

Special thanks to my editor and @sister-lucifer, I know for a fact I wouldn't be here without either, and so, many thanks to each of you.